15 Best Animated Shows For Adults, Ranked

Cartoons: they’re not just for kids anymore! Then again, that’s hardly a new idea. Since the days of “Looney Tunes” and Mickey Mouse, animation has been for everyone, with adults enjoying the art form as much as their children. But as cultural forces like Disney and Saturday morning cartoons took over, animation broadly became entrenched in a more kid-friendly realm.

But that shift also sparked an equal reaction. Animation specifically made for adults — not “families,” but “adults” — began emerging from creators looking to reclaim and subvert the medium. Now, many of these shows have become TV mainstays, and “adult animation” is a subgenre located in just about every streaming service you subscribe to. Take that, Mickey!

To celebrate, let’s count down the 15 best animated shows for adults. From gutbusting comedies to ultraviolent actioners and everything in between, these shows will have you chasing your Saturday morning breakfast cereal with a shot of whiskey.

A TV show made for and by TV addicts, “Family Guy” begins with an “All in the Family” evoking theme song before deconstructing and eviscerating that — and seemingly all — TV forms before and after.

Creator Seth MacFarlane, who also voices many of the characters, throws in everything including the kitchen sink, then has one of the characters make a self-referential joke about how strange it is that “everything but the kitchen sink” is the idiom we all use. The show then zooms in on the kitchen sink itself (voiced by MacFarlane, probably) as it sings a sad ballad about feeling left out. It solidified and popularized a style of cutaway joke-telling that rewrote 21st-century American humor — so much so that a show later on this list made a whole episode clowning on it. If that’s not influence, we don’t know what is.

The Griffins live in Quahog, Rhode Island, alongside a litany of friends, family members, and coworkers. With that base reality tenuously established, “Family Guy” does anything it can to entertain its audience, often resorting to surrealism, tastelessness, and reference upon reference. MacFarlane’s magnum opus helped kickstart Adult Swim, Fox’s Animation Domination, and a tidy empire of shows created by MacFarlane himself (especially the underrated “American Dad!”).

Likely the first, and one of the best adult animated shows ever aired on American TV, “The Flintstones” took the formula of one of television’s great sitcoms, “The Honeymooners,” and transplanted it into a swingin’ ’60s take on the Stone Age, basically inventing a genre many other shows on this list would follow.

At its core, “The Flintstones” is a working-class family sitcom filtered through a prehistoric lens. Fred and Barney bounce between get-rich-quick schemes, neighborhood rivalries, and domestic squabbles, all while the series turns Stone Age inventions into clever visual gags. Much of “The Flintstones'” charm comes from juxtaposing its fantastical setting with relatable observations about modern life. Whether it’s woolly mammoths acting as vacuum cleaners or dinosaurs replacing household appliances, the show constantly finds inventive ways to parody suburban American life.

More importantly, “The Flintstones” laid the groundwork for countless animated sitcoms that followed. Its mix of domestic comedy, slapstick chaos, and adult-oriented humor proved animation could succeed in primetime, paving the way for everything from “The Simpsons” to “Family Guy.” Decades later, the series still feels like the blueprint for the modern animated sitcom. It’s a living — and a highly influential show.

A spin-off of another hugely influential adult animated shows, “Beavis and Butt-Head,” “Daria” is a strong, representative cultural artifact of Generation X. It’s “My So-Called Life” with cartoons and jokes, a coming-of-age tale that made countless high schoolers across the country feel seen.

Tracy Grandstaff stars as Daria Morgendorffer, a cynical young woman with thick glasses, combat boots, and a snarky attitude toward the typical suburban madness surrounding her. Alongside her best friend, Jane Lane (Wendy Hoopes), Daria does her best to stay sane among her dysfunctional family, cookie-cutter classmates, and a life that seems hellbent on rewarding the dummies while holding back the smarties.

If you’re not radiating with teenage angst just reading that, maybe “Daria” isn’t for you. But for those of us who remember high school with a shiver — or those currently in high school who need a character to hold on to — “Daria” remains a relatable and provocative watch. And when Daria and Jane start having little fissures in their friendship, look out.

Packed with violence, humor, and pathos, “Invincible” is an animated treat, proof positive that there remains life in the well-trod superhero genre.

The conclusion of its first episode is one of the most startling pieces of contemporary television ever produced, animated or otherwise. After spinning a compelling, accessible story about a son (Steven Yeun) growing into powers inherited from his father (J.K. Simmons), creator Robert Kirkman — adapting his own comic book series — has the dad pull what feels like an enormous heel turn. It’s an explosion of ultraviolence that promises viewers the series won’t play by the usual rules. Plus, it screams one thing as loudly as possible: “THIS IS FOR ADULTS ONLY.”

From that point on, “Invincible” continues examining fathers and sons, heroes and villains, and justice and vigilantism. It also takes the time to make self-aware jokes, explore coming-of-age stories, and carry the baton from works like “Watchmen” into new territory. “Invincible” is a deconstruction of many familiar tropes, but a fascinating, gripping, and always entertaining one. And it’s definitely not for the squeamish.

One of the more wholesome shows on this list, “Bob’s Burgers” is a nice reminder that just because an animated comedy is “for adults” doesn’t mean it has to resort to empty shock value for laughs. Instead, this beloved series digs deep into its loving, unorthodox family dynamic for character-driven episodes full of warmth and humor.

Created by adult animation pioneer Loren Bouchard, “Bob’s Burgers” stars prolific voice actor H. Jon Benjamin as Bob Belcher, a father, husband, and small-business owner running a burger joint in Seymour’s Bay, New Jersey. Supporting Bob are his kooky, fun-loving wife Linda (John Roberts), awkward daughter Tina (Dan Mintz), immature son Gene (Eugene Mirman), and delightfully chaotic youngest daughter Louise (Kristen Schaal).

Together, the Belcher family serves pun-based burgers to a cast of colorful characters while living, learning, and loving each other as an off-the-beaten-path family. Bouchard’s long-running series is an earnest work of loveliness in an often-cynical sub-genre, a tonic for what ails you.

From “The Simpsons” maestros David X. Cohen and Matt Groening, “Futurama” has a long and complicated history, bouncing between networks through myriad cancellations, revivals, and movies that are retroactively considered a kind of “lost season.” Among all of this rigamarole, one constant remains: the surprisingly accurate sci-fi comedy show possesses immense power.

Philip J. Fry (Billy West) is a dimwitted pizza deliveryman who accidentally falls into a cryogenic freezing chamber on New Year’s Eve 1999, waking up 1,000 years later on the cusp of the year 3000. Now in the far-flung future, Fry joins the crew of Planet Express, an intergalactic delivery company staffed by coworkers like Leela (Katey Sagal), a competent and intelligent cyclops; Bender (John DiMaggio), a foul-mouthed robot; and Professor Hubert J. Farnsworth (West), an eccentric mad scientist.

As the Planet Express crew visits different planets, they stumble into all kinds of sci-fi misadventures, with notable episodes involving concepts like time travel, quantum physics, and even the Devil himself (Dan Castellaneta). Most endearingly, the show also tugs at the heartstrings with beloved episodes like “Jurassic Bark” and its long-running romantic arc between Fry and Leela.

H. Jon Benjamin is back in another, much less wholesome animated spectacle. “Archer” comes from influential Adult Swim creator Adam Reed (“Sealab 2021,” “Frisky Dingo”), this time taking his talents to FX. The espionage comedy stars Benjamin as Sterling Archer, a dysfunctional, hard-living, and chauvinistic secret agent. He works for the International Secret Intelligence Service — or, uh, ISIS — run by his domineering and brittle mother, Mallory Archer (Jessica Walter).

Sterling’s coworkers include his no-nonsense on-again, off-again lover Lana Kane (Aisha Tyler); the put-upon yet competent Cyril Figgis (Chris Parnell); the increasingly unhinged Cheryl (Judy Greer); and Reed himself as snarky bomb specialist Ray Gillette. Together, the ISIS crew stumbles through all manner of globe-trotting missions while trying not to kill each other first.

“Archer” is relentlessly funny, packed with explosive jokes, visual flair, and editing techniques that cleverly blend drama and comedy. One of the show’s best recurring tricks involves opening scenes with dialogue that directly answers the final line of the previous scene. It’s also an inventively restless show, especially in its later seasons when it plays with subgenre, form, and setting in essentially self-contained arcs.

Ad now, once again, H. Jon Benjamin — this time teaming with “Bob’s Burgers” creator Loren Bouchard in a cult series that will speak to anyone creatively inclined.

Bouchard co-created “Home Movies” with Brendon Small (“Metalocalypse”), who stars as an exaggerated childhood version of himself: Brendon, a precocious youngster who makes movies with his best friends Melissa (Melissa Bardin Galsky) and Jason (Benjamin. As Brendon follows his artistic bliss, while learning the practical difficulties of making movies, he butts up against and learns lessons from adults like his mom, Paula (Janine Ditullio), and his gym teacher, Coach McGuirk (Benjamin).

Like “Bob’s Burgers,” “Home Movies” has a fundamentally sweet and earnest core, especially in the relationship between Paula and her inquisitive son. But there’s also a prickly humanity bubbling throughout the four-season series, enhanced by its partial use of Squigglevision and retroscripting — production techniques previously used in Bouchard’s underrated masterpiece, “Dr. Katz, Professional Therapist.”

Based on his own newspaper comic strip, Aaron McGruder’s “The Boondocks” is an incendiary, genre-blending work of satire. It’s gut-punchingly funny, chock full of fiery ideas about Black identity, and contains some gorgeous, fluid animation, especially in its unpredictable action sequences.

Regina King voices two young brothers, Huey and Riley Freeman. Huey, 10 years old, is socially conscious, politically engaged, and interested in dismantling the systems that subjugate Black Americans. Riley, 8 years old, is much less cerebral, enthusiastically embracing the culturally stereotypical ideals propagated through things like gangsta rap. Alongside their brusque granddad, Robert (John Witherspoon), the pair tries to live a good life while getting wrapped up in increasingly high-stakes schemes.

“The Boondocks” takes aim at enormous cultural targets, with controversial episodes like “Return of the King” zeroing in on beloved figures like Martin Luther King Jr. (Kevin Michael Richardson) through irreverence, vulgarity, and pointed satire. It’s a postmodern masterpiece of activist comedy.

While it started its life as a relatively family-friendly Cartoon Network series, “Samurai Jack” ended its run as an Adult Swim series, more than earning it a spot on this list.

The spartan premise of “Samurai Jack” is explained efficiently by the villainous Aku (voiced by Mako for the first four seasons and Greg Baldwin for the final season): In a dystopian future, evil rules the land thanks to Aku’s supernatural tyranny. But one samurai (Phil LaMarr) with the power to defeat Aku must travel back through time to stop him once and for all.

With those simple stakes established, creator Genndy Tartakovsky uses the series to experiment boldly. Episodes vary wildly in tone, form, and even genre, with some embracing quiet humor, some unfolding almost entirely in silence, and others leaning fully into science fiction. “Samurai Jack” is a love letter to many of the great genre shows of the past, from “Kung Fu” to “The Prisoner” to “Quantum Leap” and everything else in between. But even despite these homages and influences, there is nothing else quite like it.

A defining show for 21st-century comedy and adult animation, one so powerful it basically necessitated the invention of Adult Swim, “Space Ghost Coast to Coast” remains an idiosyncratic, even brave work of television art. It feels refreshingly countercultural and even a little dangerous to this day. How did showrunner Mike Lazzo and his crew pull this off?

They started by resurrecting the long-forgotten Hanna-Barbera cartoon “Space Ghost,” crudely recycling its animation assets for surreal new purposes, a technique many shows later borrowed. But instead of placing the title hero in a slew of sci-fi adventures, the series reimagined Space Ghost (now voiced by George Lowe) as a bizarro Johnny Carson — a talk show host blending the cadence of old-school entertainment with the sardonic nonsense of someone who truly didn’t give a damn.

Alongside his ornery bandleader Zorak (C. Martin Croker), soft-spoken director Moltar (Croker), and truly daffy sidekick Brak (Andy Merrill), Space Ghost interviews real celebrities like Eartha Kitt, Michael Stipe, and Beck using a barrage of bizarre non-questions that confuse guests and audiences alike. For those who got on its wavelength, “Space Ghost Coast to Coast” proved that animated TV comedy would never be the same.

If “Bob’s Burgers” represents one extreme of the wholesome-to-edgy spectrum, “South Park” sits firmly on the opposite end. The long-running, beloved, and often-controversial Comedy Central series is rude, crude, and possessing a massive attitude, pushing the boundaries despite its main characters being literal children.

Trey Parker and Matt Stone created the series based on a pair of Christmas-themed short films they made that garnered buzz for their vulgarity and unique animation style. Since then, thanks to its shortened production schedule, Parker and Stone can always keep the show fresh and provocative, making it one of television’s most durable enfant terribles. 

Over more than 20 seasons, the “South Park” gang has encountered a myriad of hilarious characters including new allies, antagonists, talking pieces of feces, towels obsessed with marijuana, celebrities, political figures, and countless other bizarre personalities. The characters have also developed in surprising ways, especially Cartman (Parker), the most arrogant and volatile member of the group. 

In standout episodes like “Scott Tenorman Must Die,” Cartman’s edginess — and, by proxy, our culturally sanded-down version of “edginess” — is pushed past the limits of acceptability and sanity. Parker and Stone’s impatience and impetuousness make for plenty of stunning, form-pushing moments like this, helping turn “South Park” into one of television’s boldest statements. 

Co-created by two of television comedy’s most influential auteurs, Greg Daniels (“The Office”) and Mike Judge (“Beavis and Butt-Head”), “King of the Hill” effectively blends their interests and tones together into one of the great TV sitcoms, animated or otherwise. Like Daniels’ best work, “King of the Hill” is subtle, gentle, and full of heart. And like Judge’s best work, “King of the Hill” is satirical, blue-collar, and has bite.

Judge stars as Hank Hill, a pragmatic Arlen, Texas-based propane salesman doing his best to raise his family alongside his more impulsive wife, Peggy (Kathy Najimy). Their son, Bobby (Pamela Adlon), is an oddball in Hank’s eyes — a sensitive, emotional kid who embraces who he is even while recognizing he’s still a work in progress.

Hank’s beer-drinking buddies include the conspiracy-obsessed Dale (Johnny Hardwick and Toby Huss), the easily rattled Bill (Stephen Root), and the perpetually mumbling Boomhauer (Judge). This small community goes through small but seismic changes, growing up with the increasingly progressive world around them as they cling to simple comforts. It’s the kind of grounded, observational comedy that appeals to just about everyone.

Alternating between joke-packed raucousness and raw, emotional devastation, “BoJack Horseman” walks a tightrope for its entire six-season run, delivering some of the best television of recent memory along the way. It’s a one-of-a-kind triumph, plain and simple.

Created by Raphael Bob-Waksberg for Netflix, “BoJack Horseman” stars Will Arnett as the title character, a washed-up horse actor who once starred in a successful sitcom and now wastes away his days with his slacker human roommate, Todd (Aaron Paul). When aspiring writer Diane Nguyen (Alison Brie) is assigned to help write BoJack’s autobiography, he finds a renewed spark of inspiration. But that spark also threatens to expose the skeletons in his closet, especially those involving his cat agent Princess Carolyn (Amy Sedaris), his dog rival Mr. Peanutbutter (Paul F. Tompkins), and his former co-star Sarah Lynn (Kristen Schaal), a struggling former child actor.

Bob-Waksberg invents a surreal version of Hollywood — called, simply, Hollywoo — where animals and humans coexist, though the former carry all the emotional baggage of the latter. It makes for fascinating, disquieting, and bitterly hilarious TV.

Arguably the most famous and influential adult animated show of all time, “The Simpsons” tops this list not just for its reputation, but for its quality, with at least its first 10 Seasons containing some of the best TV comedy ever produced.

Matt Groening originally developed the characters for “The Tracey Ullman Show” before debuting them in their own Fox series in 1989. Taking place in the suburban American town of Springfield, “The Simpsons” follows a nuclear family (pun intended) just trying to get by. From that point on, “The Simpsons” has offered just about every plot under the sun, from typical domestic conflicts to Halloween fantasias of horror. Along the way, it’s broadened the scope of American humor with intelligence, a love of postmodern homage, and gleeful stupidity. Mmm … stupidity.

Without “The Simpsons,” there is barely any other show on this list (though without “The Flintstones,” there is no “Simpsons,” a fact referenced in one couch gag). Its collision of absurdity and domesticity, its accessibility to comedy-nerd sensibilities, and its balance of heart and satire have made adult animation better for everyone.