13 Comfort Shows That Are the Adult Equivalent of a ‘Baba’

Katie Arnold-Ratliff
·9 min read

Nolan Pelletier

This article is part of SELF’s third annual Rest Week, an editorial package dedicated to doing less. Taking care of yourself, physically and emotionally, is impossible without genuine downtime. With that in mind, we’ll be publishing articles up until the new year to help you make a habit of taking breaks, chilling out, and slowing down. (And we’re taking our own advice: The SELF staff will be OOO during this time!) We hope to inspire you to take it easy and get some rest, whatever that looks like for you.

Once upon a time, beloved poet Mary Oliver wrote “let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” I have to wonder if she’d also advise that you let it watch what it watches, especially if what it watches is the same thing over and over—and over—again.

Anyone who’s zoned out in front of episodes they could likely recite knows the solace of this perfectly pointless activity, best undertaken while rotting in bed, or mopping your kitchen, or painting your toenails. It tends to be preceded by a long or tiring day, week, or season (hello, holidays!), and always involves paying limited attention: You’re also scrolling or eating or simply staring, half-listening to Rose babble about St. Olaf or Liz Lemon enjoy her night cheese. My good friend calls these series “baba shows,” baba being a common nickname for a baby bottle or pacifier.

I asked some pals about their go-to pacifying programs, and while some answers were expected (Chopped, Modern Family, SVU, Grey’s Anatomy, Living Single), a few were less so (I admit I’d never considered disassociating to Columbo). Which begs the question: What makes a comfort show comforting? Length is vital—most feature bite-sized half-hour episodes—and it can’t have so few seasons that you’ll be watching the same one again next week.

But tone is especially crucial: Thorny, thinky shows like Atlanta are mind-expanding and funny, but may be too complex to serve as cozy fare. The friend who coined the baba show concept says her go-to is Friends, a classic pick shared by countless others. After all, it has ten seasons and a steady cadence of jokes, and it relies on the premise that Joey will always be dumb, Monica will always be neurotic, etc.—and maybe that unyielding consistency helps us viewers feel like the world will go on reliably spinning.

But there’s one comfort show criterion that eclipses them all: You must love it so much you don’t care if it’s a weird pick. My go-to baba has long been Blackadder, in which Rowan Atkinson, whom you likely know as Mr. Bean, plays a self-interested cad conniving his way through various historical eras. It’s episodic, wry, and niche enough in the States that I feel like it’s all mine. Meanwhile, my husband is happy to let me keep the show all to myself—he has no interest in joining me in my comfort viewing, preferring to re-watch Anthony Bourdain’s travel oeuvre from now until the end of time. This is baffling to me; doesn’t watching it make him sad that Bourdain’s gone? No, he says, shrugging—which proves that your baba of choice only has to make sense, and be soothingly delightful, to you.

Don’t have a baba show in your repertoire? (Or you’re finally sick of yours?) Here are a few slam-dunk options to turn to when exhaustion sets in.

1. Gilmore Girls (2000-2007)

“Stars Hollow is just such a nice place,” says a friend for whom the plight of teenaged Rory and her innkeeper mom, Lorelai, is a perpetual source of solace. It’s true, the Connecticut town is crazy quaint—and even when it’s (gently) rocked by low-stakes tensions, usually of the romantic variety, things always seem to turn out okay. Comfort viewing at its comfiest.

2. Arrested Development (2003-2019)

I can’t recommend the sucky coda of this sitcom, but the first three seasons? Immaculate. After the members of the wealthy Bluth family lose their patriarch to prison (no big deal, just some light treason) they struggle to make their way, possessing zero skills or talents of their own. The show rewards repeat viewing: Never has a comedy been so invested in callbacks, which compound into jokes so layered you’ll only catch them on the tenth watch. And when a show is this packed with genius performances (Jessica Walter, we miss you), why wouldn’t you come back?

3. The Office (2001-2003)

No, not the one you’re already comfort-watching—we’re talking about the original. Yes, we all love Jim and Pam, but make room in your heart for Tim and Dawn, too, whose two-seasons-and-a-Christmas-special-length struggle to wind up together feels more urgent for being so compressed. The show’s also got an easy pace, a gentle sonic blandness (every scene features the faint sound of ringing phones), and a familiar format—the now-ubiquitous mockumentary conceit, which it helped make into a sitcom staple.

4. Abbott Elementary (2021-present)

If you aren’t won over by this crew of Philadelphia elementary school teachers, I regret to inform you that you may not have a soul. (Joking! Sort of.) The show is wholesome but not sappy, it’s real about the frustrations of education but never preachy, and its ensemble cast is so damn good. (I’m partial to regal veteran teacher Ms. Howard and insane janitor Mr. Johnson.) In fact, though a will-they-won’t-they romance animates the series, it doesn’t dominate it—every cast member is so winning that you’re equally invested in them, too.

5. Spongebob Squarepants (1999-present)

Okay, hear me out. My son and I watch this together most days—it’s his comfort watch, and I’m happily along for the ride. It’s so studded with jokes that if you miss one there’ll be another along momentarily, and it’s weirdly hopeful: Even in a town of crushed spirits (see: Squidward’s ennui, Mr. Krabs’ greed, Plankton’s hopeless quest for the secret formula), this dim little sponge remains ever joyful, an upstanding fry cook delighted by life. I admire that.

6. Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (2015-2019)

Do you hate musicals? Me too! But do you like sardonic sendups of musicals? You will once you finish this satirical sitcom, which follows a successful but unfulfilled (and, yes, somewhat unhinged) woman as she stops at nothing—seriously, nothing—to get her long-ago high school crush to fall for her. Full of dark humor, manic plot twists set hilariously to song, and dorky theater kid energy, it’s just pure wall-to-wall fun.

7. Last Man on Earth (2015-2018)

Played with a stellar blend of idiocy and malice by SNL’s Will Forte, a guy named Phil withstands a plague that destroys humanity. He spends years traveling America to find fellow survivors, stealing priceless paintings, eating Cheez Wiz, and losing his mind. Then, surprise—he’s not alone! But the only other survivor turns out to annoy the living daylights out of him. Things get increasingly ridiculous, with a parade of stars (Will Ferrell, Kristen Wiig, Jack Black, Fred Armisen; how was this not a hit?!) arriving to keep things lively.

8. Insecure (2016-2021)

A potentially blasphemous statement: I like Sex and the City, but Insecure is what that show should have been. Issa’s romantic and professional travails feel like real life, and the banter she shares with her friends and (often questionable) romantic partners is genuinely funny. One thing this show and SATC both get right is the setting; here, L.A. is spot-on. But what makes Insecure sing is Issa’s growth over the series. Watching her shed her awkwardness and aimlessness to create the life she wants is as stirring as it is fun.

9. Mum (2016-2019)

Cathy is a fiftysomething recent widow in suburban England, trudging through grief alongside her boorish relatives, forever holding it together with a gentle smile. Her late husband’s lifelong best friend, Michael, gamely offers support in her time of loss— mounting Cathy’s TV, visiting on her birthday—because, as it becomes clear, he’s been in love with her for decades. The story unfolds slowly and sweetly, one subtle gesture at a time, culminating in a magnificent moment that makes three seasons of waiting for Michael to finally speak the truth and Cathy to finally hear it well worth the investment.

10. Our Flag Means Death (2022-2024)

You probably didn’t have a show about pirates in love on your bingo card for today, but here we are. In this woefully canceled cult comedy, a wealthy poser who longs to swashbuckle takes ineptly to the seas, crossing paths with the infamous Blackbeard, who nearly kills him and his crew. Then…they fall in love. On paper it sounds improbable, but on screen it’s unforgettable, and the series manages to be both poignant and hilarious right to the end.

11. Friday Night Lights (2006-2011)

You may have skipped this network drama because you thought it was about football. It’s not about football—not really. It’s about the weight of talent and how it corrupts; it’s about being a big deal in a small town and wondering if you’ll matter once you leave it; it’s about honor and pride and teamwork; and it’s about marriage, particularly the enviable one at the center of the series, between what has to be one of the handsomest men ever to appear on television and a woman with hair so good it should’ve been named in the credits. This show makes you feel things without ever being maudlin, and while it often breaks your heart, the journey feels good every time you take it.

12. Superstore (2015-2021)

A show that walks the line between snappy and zeitgeist-capturing while still being fun and relatable is a rare find, and this one managed it for six full seasons. Blessed with another brilliant ensemble cast (including Emmy and Golden Globe winner America Ferrera), it follows the employees of a big-box chain as they deal with weirdo customers, fall into arguments and affairs with each other, and navigate American life in the mid-teens to early 2020s—an era of division and disillusionment, pandemics and paranoia, and, if this one-of-a-kind show is any indication, fractured humor.

13. The Simpsons (1989-present)

What’s the mark of the ultimate comfort show? One you enjoy even while unconscious. Each night, my husband and I conk out to the pinnacle of modern comedy, several seasons of which are essentially a religious text to diehard fans. If you’ve only seen the later era, I urge you to view the canonical seasons (3 through 8), which are almost supernaturally funny but also surprisingly moving. It’s absurd that Homer doggedly eats a rotting sandwich simply because it’s there (Season 4, episode 13), but when Bart is caught stealing a copy of Bonestorm (Season 7, episode 11) and must face Marge’s disappointment, wondering if he can ever earn her esteem again, it doesn’t feel cartoonish—it feels deeply human.

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Originally Appeared on Self

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