The Truth About What Gen Z Thinks of Today’s Most Popular TV Shows

Look, as someone who’s been watching TV since I could hold a remote (and trust me, that’s been a while in Gen Z years), I need to set the record straight. Hollywood keeps trying to figure us out like we’re some mysterious alien species, but honestly? They’re failing harder than a TikTok trend from 2019. 

Gen Z Isn’t Asking For Much

Here’s the thing about Gen Z and television: We’re not asking for much. We want characters who don’t sound like they learned slang from a dusty Urban Dictionary and plots that don’t make us cringe so hard we physically recoil from our screens. Is that too much to ask?

Let me paint you a picture. I sit down to watch a new show that’s supposedly “made for Gen Z,” and within the first five minutes, I’m already rolling my eyes. The characters are throwing around terms like “slay queen” and “periodt” like they’re reading from a script written by someone’s confused millennial cousin who thinks they understand us.

But here’s where it gets interesting. Some shows have cracked the code, and honestly, it’s not rocket science. Severance: The Workplace Horror We Relate To. Severance nails the existential dread that defines our generation. Even though most of us haven’t entered the corporate world yet, we look at those sterile white hallways and feel the same anxiety we get walking into certain college buildings.

The show taps into that deep-seated fear of becoming another cog in a machine—something that resonates with a generation that’s watched economic crises unfold while being told we need to be “passionate” about work. Plus, let’s be honest, we love a sound conspiracy theory rabbit hole, and Severance delivers that in spades through TikTok and Instagram algorithms that keep feeding us more content.

Hacks might feature a millennial protagonist, but the show understands something crucial: generational differences can be funny without being mean-spirited. Ava’s struggles with figuring out life hit differently because they’re grounded in reality, not Instagram-worthy drama. The cross-generational friendship aspect? Chef’s kiss. We don’t see enough of that on television, and when it’s done well, it’s genuinely heartwarming.

What Gen Z Wants From TV

Mike White’s The White Lotus proves that Gen Z hasn’t murdered appointment television—we just need the right series to unite all of us. Season three had my friend group gathering every week like it was a religious experience, complete with Thai takeout and heated discussions about privilege and performativity.

The show succeeds because it doesn’t try to be Gen Z. It just tells good stories that happen to explore themes we care about: social justice, economic inequality, and the performative nature of modern life. Here’s what Hollywood doesn’t seem to understand: we don’t need shows specifically “for” us. We need good shows. Shows with authentic characters, compelling storylines, and writing that doesn’t sound like it came from a “How to Talk to Gen Z” PowerPoint presentation.

We gravitated toward The Last of Us not because it had a Gen Z character (though Bella Ramsey is fantastic), but because it told a compelling story with emotional depth. We love Shrinking because it deals with real emotions and mental health in a way that feels genuine, not performative. Speaking of shows that are losing steam, can we talk about The Bear?

Look, Jeremy Allen White is attractive in that “I-definitely-need-therapy-but-make-it-sexy” way, but the show has become more about style than substance. The fourth season felt like watching someone try to recreate magic that’s already faded. Ayo Edebiri’s Sydney is what keeps the show watchable—her younger perspective cuts through the cynicism and profanity to deliver something approaching genuine emotion.

Final Thoughts

Television executives, if you’re reading this (and honestly, you should be), stop trying so hard to create “Gen Z content.” Instead, focus on creating good content that happens to include authentic Gen Z perspectives. Give us that, and we’ll show up. Keep giving us caricatures and cringe-worthy attempts at relevance, and we’ll just go back to rewatching Criminal Minds on Netflix.