What’s your favorite Christmas TV episode?

“The Best Chrismukkah Ever” is a perfect snowglobe of an O.C. episode: pristine from the outside, with its palm trees, party dresses, and pretty cheekbones, but always with the threat that one jolly shake-up will disrupt the winter wonderland within. Fittingly titled, our introduction to Chrismukkah—a bi-religious tradition created by Seth Cohen (Adam Brody) to honor his “Waspy McWasp’’ mom (Kelly Rowan) and his Jewish dad (the forever well-browed Peter Gallagher), consisting of “eight days of presents followed by one day of many presents”—is not only the series’ best holiday episode but one of its best episodes full stop.

It has everything you could want from the teen soap: the endless but endearing quips from Seth (“I’ve got Jesus and Moses on my side, man”), the messy melodrama of Marissa Cooper (shoplifting from a department store, chugging a Sandra Lee-level volume of vodka and befriending the lump of coal that is Oliver all in the same episode), shady business dealings to keep the adults busy (again, you have to give those Gallagher brows something to work with), and the sweet swelling of Ryan Atwood’s Grinchy heart, as he’s given a stocking for the mantle and a place in the annual Cohen family Chrismukkah card. The episode aptly shows that no festivity or family is entirely perfect, no matter how fabulously decked the halls or how indie-twee that Bright Eyes “Blue Christmas” cover is. [Christina Izzo]

“Ho-fucking-ho,” says Christopher, summarizing the push-pull hustle and bustle of the season of strong-armed sentimentality. One of the funniest installments of one of the funniest seasons of The Sopranos opens with Tony stalking an empty Asbury Park boardwalk, haunted, like all of us who have had to murder our best friend for being a rat, by ghosts of Christmas past. But most of the episode is really a pitch-black comedy tour of north Jersey holiday angst, or, as Dr. Melfi calls it, “Stress-mas.” Tony tells It’s A Wonderful Life “enough already;” Bobby is told “you’re Santa, so shut the fuck up about it;” Janice struggles in a Carlo Rossi-fueled Christian contemporary songwriting sesh, despite encouragement from narcoleptic Aaron (“it’s a great mother-jumping lyric”). We get the backstory of the pork store becoming the family clubhouse: Old man Satriale put a bullet in his own head after a bust-out. There was a lot of sadness on the block, yet, it was “nothing a Christmas ham couldn’t fix.”

But lingering dread is mostly bestowed by the looming shadow of Big Pussy—excellent Santa, bad friend. We see him in flashbacks and feel his unholy ghost in the hilariously chilling callback provided by a Meadow-gifted Big Mouth Billy Bass. It’s a writerly metaphor for seasonal pangs of nostalgia and a sendup of how we enter this strange, forced year-end reckoning that that jolly home invader brings about every December. Maybe Paulie Walnuts, giving us a modern update on “humbug,” says it best: “In the end, fuck Santa Claus.” [Todd Lazarski]

Christmastime is about tradition. And few have a regimented Yuletide schedule—exchanging presents in bed! Having a massive drink!—like Peep Show’s Jez. But something is off in the series’ only Christmas episode as he and Mark desperately attempt to get in the holiday spirit amid a barrage of routine familial horrors. There is an undercurrent of resentment in Mark and Jez’s flat as they host Mark’s parents for the first time. Mark’s cheerful mother, horny sister, and ornery father complicate Jez’s recreation of childhood memories as Mark sheepishly tries to hide his new relationship from his father’s barbs. That parent deserves a verbal lashing, but it’s Mark’s unloading on Jez over the Christmas turkey that brings the sober reality of the holiday to light: There’s no such thing as the perfect Christmas, and the more Mark, Jez, and Mark’s father impose their traditions on everyone, the worse things get. The real Christmas miracle is that Mark stands up for himself (albeit after looking like a dick in front of Dobby), telling his father that cauliflower isn’t traditional and allowing everyone to celebrate the day in their own way. The oppression of family has never been so festive. [Matt Schimkowitz]

Each holiday season, there are five Christmas episodes I rewatch without fail: The Simpsons’ “Marge Be Not Proud,” that aforementioned Sopranos one that Todd Lazarski wrote about so wonderfully, Gavin & Stacey’s first Christmas special, The Office’s “A Benihana Christmas,” and then this gem, which doubled as a surprise series finale. And if I was forced to pick just one, it’d have to be this, a funny, cringey, depressing, but ultimately sweet sendoff for a remarkable show. There’s so much to like—David telling Finchy to fuck off, and Gareth trying to be boss-like high among them—but it’s the last moments, with Dawn approaching Tim and the two finally getting together, that still, two decades later, wreck me. [Tim Lowery]

I will always go to bat for Lost season four’s “The Constant”—arguably the best episode of the show overall—as an ideal holiday watch. After all, nothing screams Christmas more than a man’s consciousness traveling through time to remind him of his one true love, right? Right? In this fine hour, Desmond Hume’s (Henry Ian Cusick) disoriented mind goes back and forth from 2004 to 1996 in an attempt to connect with ex-fiancé Penny (Sonya Walger), whom he hasn’t seen in years. (Getting stranded on a faraway, mystical island will do that!)

There’s intriguing sci-fi aspects to “The Constant” that are too complex to get into for a list like this, but the feel-good crux of Desmond and Penny’s love story is what makes it a holiday favorite. Desmond finally gets through to Penny after she answers his phone call exactly when he told her to eight (!) whole years ago, and on Christmas Eve, no less. The scene of both of them weeping after listening to each other’s voice with a bright Christmas tree in the background? I dare you not to cry. [Saloni Gajjar]

An ambitious, big-swing episode that for pretty much any other show would be its best—we gave that particular award for The Bear’s fantastic second season to “Forks,” the installment that followed this one—”Fishes” starts quietly, with Abby Elliott’s Sugar having an outdoor smoke. But then you hear the front door creak open and the chaos of conversation happening inside a toasty suburban Chicago home and you’re quickly tipped off that, like the series’ premiere (which this episode references plenty), this flashback will be soaked in anxiety, always tipping on the edge of melting down. One of the many tricks it pulls off is that, despite its many famous drop-ins—Jamie Lee Curtis, Bob Odenkirk, John Mulaney, Gillian Jacobs, and MVP Sarah Paulson—it never takes you out of the story or distracts from a Christmas from hell that explains so much about why Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) is Carmy. [Tim Lowery]

“Comfort And Joy” is an outlier in the first few seasons of Cartoon Network’s Justice League: No multi-episode arc, no massive threat looming over Earth’s most powerful heroes. Instead, we get a series of gentle character pieces, as Green Lantern and Hawkgirl, Superman and the Martian Manhunter, and Flash and (improbably) his enemy the Ultra-Humanite share sweet moments of holiday cheer. I’ve always had a soft spot for the Flash bits, but the obvious stand-out is watching distant outsider J’onn J’onzz’s alien reserve melt under the unrelenting force of a Smallville Christmas. The episode’s most famous scene is also among its funniest: The Kent family happily laughing with their visitor over a young Clark’s obsession with Christmas. “We used to wrap his presents in lead foil so he couldn’t peek!” Pa Kent crows. Suddenly, Superman’s eyes narrow, his tone stiffens. “You mean Santa wrapped them.” Peak wholesomeness. [William Hughes]

Despite being raised as an agnostic Jew, I get more full-bore caught up in all things Christmas than a lot of actual, y’know, Christians. So it’s no surprise that “Abed’s Uncontrollable Christmas” makes me weep candy cane tears every time I revisit it. In this episode shot entirely in stop-motion, Abed Nadir’s (Danny Pudi) bout of Yuletide dissociation pulls the study group—plus a Scroogy Professor Duncan (John Oliver)—into a Rankin/Bass–style winter wonderland to search for the true meaning of Christmas. Transformed into toys, the gang gets booted from this fantasy world one by one, but they come back together to help Abed come to grips with the harsh reality he’s been using this particular genre to escape. But rather than plunging him into despair, this moment leads our hero to a revelation: “The meaning of Christmas is the idea that Christmas has meaning,” he says, “and it can mean whatever we want.” Community is all about a group of people with entirely different values systems finding common ground; so it’s only fitting that the holiday means something profound—and profoundly different—to everyone, from the Muslim Abed to the devoutly Christian Shirley (Yvette Nicole Brown) to the atheist Britta (Gillian Jacobs). The holiday contains multitudes, and that’s what makes it beautiful—no matter what the Christmas Warlock says. [Jenna Scherer]

Arthur is a much-beloved figure among my friends and family, so this PBS Kids classic holds a (Christmas) special place in my heart. It shows how different citizens of Elmwood City celebrate the holidays, not just through religious traditions but brand-new specific family ones like Baxter Day. It has all the show’s usual heart, humor, and character foibles from the supporting cast—like Muffy’s bordering-on-problematic insistence that Francine’s Hanukkah celebration isn’t as important as her holiday party. Muffy learns her lesson, as does Arthur (not every holiday will match your exact expectations!), as does the show’s target young audience. There may be helpful reminders for an older audience in there too, but mostly it’s a “Perfect” blast of nostalgia from Christmas past. [Mary Kate Carr]

Few IPs have been as ruthlessly fracked as Charles Dickens’ 1843 yuletide novella. Everyone—Magoo, Muppets, Murray—has stepped into Scrooge’s slippers to take a ghostly ride through time and space and regain their humanity. Yet no one flipped the script as cleverly as Richard Curtis and Ben Elton, creators of the historical Britcom Blackadder, which centers on the titular selfish bastard, ace flinger of insults. The concept of this holiday standalone: In poverty-stricken Victorian London, shopkeeper Ebenezer Blackadder (the great Rowan Atkinson) is the most generous, selfless ... sucker in the city. Even his dimwitted servant, Baldrick (Tony Robinson) looks askance as his boss gives away their meager profits and Christmas turkey to obvious grifters. (“Mrs. Scratchit, Tiny Tom is fifteen stone and built like a brick privy. If he eats any more heartily, he shall turn into a pie shop.”) That Christmas Eve, our philanthropic hero is mistakenly visited by a Spirit of Christmas (the late Robbie Coltrane), who reluctantly shows Ebenezer how badly behaved his ancestors were. After delightfully wicked vignettes from Blackadder with Elizabeth I (Miranda Richardson) and the idiotic Prince Regent (Hugh Laurie), Ebenezer has a most un-Dickensian revelation: “Bad guys have all the fun.” [David Cote]

Christmas and PTSD. Who knew they could make such a potent combination? Aaron Sorkin, that’s who. In this unforgettable episode, Josh (Bradley Whitford, doing some of his best work in the series) is struggling in the aftermath of the shooting in Rosslyn in the season-one finale. He talks through his trauma with a therapist (guest star Adam Arkin) until he finally puts together that the sound of Christmas music is a trigger that subtly reminds him of the ambulance sirens from that day. There’s an extraordinary montage set to Yo-Yo Ma’s performance of Bach’s cello suite in G major, but that’s not even the highlight of the episode. For me, that would be Leo’s speech about the guy who falls into a deep hole, and the friend who jumps into it with him because he knows the way out. Knowing that John Spencer isn’t with us anymore makes it even more emotional. I think it’s worth remembering that the Christmas season can be a difficult time of year for some people, and “Noël” reminds us to have empathy for those who have trouble getting into the holiday spirit. [Cindy White]

I’m prepared to Die Hard on this hill: The Documentary Now! episode “Original Cast Album: Co-Op” is a Christmas episode. While not overtly filled with seasonal spirit, the faux musical has two tracks worthy of the Christmas canon: “Christmas Tips,” a helpful reminder to treat your doorman to a holiday gift, and the even more Christmassy “Holiday Party (I Did A Little Cocaine Tonight),” a semi-relatable anthem about social anxiety at holiday gatherings. “Co-Op” is not only a hilarious, pitch-perfect parody of Stephen Sondheim’s Company, it’s a welcome respite from all those other boring, expected musical Christmas interludes on TV. This one’s way funnier, and it has performances from Richard Kind, Alex Brightman, Renée Elise Goldsberry, and Paula Pell. We’ve crowned Christmas canon for less. Let’s give “Co-Op” it’s due! [Mary Kate Carr]

“Arnold’s Christmas” is a mandatory holiday watch for me, an episode so full of the feels that perfectly capture the spirit of the season. The installment breaks your heart when Mr. Hyunh separates from his daughter to allow her to escape to America—and then puts it back together when you see them finally reunited. So yes. I watch “Arnold’s Christmas” every year, and every year it makes me cry. And if you can get through it without shedding a single tear, I have to assume you are some kind of robot. Which, to be fair, would be pretty cool. [Peter Scobel]