Top 20 TV Shows That Made Men Cry

It hasn't just been the cast that's drastically changed across 60-plus years of “Doctor Who”. The 2005 revival has notably adopted a more dramatic tone to the pulp sci-fi of a shapeshifting alien exploring space and time. The Doctor and their companions encounter many deep aspects of the human–or humanoid alien–condition. The inevitable ends to their partnerships alone are consistently touching. Some companions and the Doctor themselves have even died. The drama in a time-travel show may be fast and loose, but these adventures regularly get at the heart of connection, loss, and other meaningful themes. “Doctor Who” is a bigger deal in guy geek culture than ever for its emotional nuance as much as its vast mythology.

The perils of space travel are raised in “For All Mankind”’s alternate history. Decades of intense science and politics following the Soviets landing on the Moon have led to much tragedy. Still, you can never predict major characters’ fates or the impact that will have as far as the whole world. Some of our heroes get the uplifting resolutions they deserve. Many, sadly, are killed off in sacrifice, political upheaval, or just bad luck. “For All Mankind” is one of the few contemporary shows still willing to make you love its characters, then take them away. It's the kind of mature drama whose versatile intelligence extends all the way to the emotional.

The uniquely female-driven “Grey’s Anatomy” may have broken the record for the longest-running medical drama on American primetime. But “ER” set a grittier tone for portraying the difficult professional and personal lives of healthcare workers. The emergency room at Cook County General Hospital placed viewers on the frontline of shocking medical crises week after week. As early as Season One’s “Love’s Labor Lost”, in which a woman dies in childbirth, many one-off characters made bold impressions. Of course, a show that ran 15 years was bound to kill off main characters. In particular, Lucy Knight’s was considered one of TV’s most heartbreaking deaths at the time. “ER” truly revealed that modern audiences, however painfully, can handle TV doctors not always saving the day.

“Lost” started out on high emotion as an island survival drama. Even as it expanded into supernatural sci-fi to draw a cult following, the characters remained at the forefront of storytelling. Their backstories are moving enough, especially with regard to family hardship. Paternal conflict is a particularly touchy recurring theme to resonate with male viewers. But between shocking deaths and uplifting reunions, the show was never lost for emotional impact. Even the controversial afterlife twist in “The End” offered profound closure for the relationships built across six seasons. “Lost” continues to captivate pop culture for its cerebral twists and deep thrills. The human touch, of course, is what kept fans coming back for more mind-bending and heart-breaking.

The linchpin of “Mr. Robot”’s political, crime and cyber thrills is the tragic psychodrama of Elliot Alderson. His development was a groundbreakingly esoteric portrayal of crippling anxiety, mental illness, and underlying childhood trauma. Elliot takes viewers on an emotional rollercoaster rarely dramatized in a dangerous social revolution. And the hallucinated interactions with his late father get more heartbreaking as the series progresses. From the early twist that Mr. Robot is really an alter ego, to the climactic revelation of Elliot’s repressed sexual abuse, the father-son dynamic is consistently devastating. At the heart of “Mr. Robot”’s unique mix of tension and humanity is the beautiful agony of one of TV’s most underrated antihero arcs.

The true story of the Central Park Five is heartbreaking just to hear. When audiences saw it dramatized in the miniseries “When They See Us”, it was a visceral experience. Ava DuVernay thoughtfully follows the aftermath of a violent crime and the young men who wrongly spent over a decade in prison for it. The soul-crushing drama, intense tone and brilliant acting rarely let up on viewers. And the final bittersweet triumph of justice is no less moving. The complicated themes of masculine strength further resonate, especially for the young Black men who are most vulnerable to this sort of tragedy. “When They See Us” is not an easy test of will, but it is an important one.

From Damon Lindelof, the tear-jerker behind “Lost”, comes a drama all about loss. “The Leftovers” depicts humanity's individual and collective reaction to the disappearance of 2% of the world’s population. It's a mind-bendingly twisty epic, but the most important part of the story is how every character deals with confusion and grief. With that comes loaded allegories on the natures of trauma, faith and connection. These universal themes are beautifully written and acted to awaken audiences’ deepest anxieties about people around them vanishing. It's not likely that they'll do so in a seemingly supernatural way. Still, “The Leftovers” rivals its intrigue with a gripping look at the pain of loss and the salvation in those who remain.

Ricky Gervais is always good for an uncomfortable laugh, and gets plenty as the maker and star of “After Life”. Still, he never treats Tony Johnson’s grief over his late wife as a laughing matter. This is a thoughtful study in how a man grapples with catastrophic loss of a loved one and purpose in life. Taking care of his dog Brandy seems to be the only thing keeping Tony alive. However, as he gradually opens up, especially to other bereaved people, he finally finds peace. “After Life” is an uncompromising comedy about a universally relatable drama. Gervais’s quirkier observations of the human condition may keep you going, but the heavier material’s impact and tranquility really hit home.

The definite zombie apocalypse saga may be more depressing than tear-jerking. For loyal viewers, though, “The Walking Dead”’s methodical pacing and bold drama really flesh the characters out. Flesh-eaters end up being the least of their woes. Fatigue, betrayal and loss overwhelm the heroes’ journey to survive without compromising their moral compass. Even those who have are given tragic backstories to earn viewers’ sympathies. Certainly, they should be consistently struck by major character deaths, whether shocking or slow, gruesome or graceful. That makes the rare moment of joy in the wasteland all the more poignant. While this dramatic formula persists across its many spin-offs, the human depth of the original “The Walking Dead” really sinks its teeth in.

The Fisher family business is a matter of life and death, literally. The grind of running a funeral home is usually comedic in “Six Feet Under”. Still, there's equally deep drama in the driving themes of family dysfunction and existentialism. Obviously, many clients bring heartbreaking or life-affirming stories with their deceased loved ones. As for the Fishers themselves, they all have powerful stories of self-determination. Nate’s strife in bearing others’ burdens and terminal illness was especially groundbreaking in how it approached sensitive male subjects. Even bolder was David’s crises and triumphs as a gay Christian. Culminating in one of the most moving series finales of all time, “Six Feet Under” boasts all the joy, pain and beauty of life itself.

Mike Flanagan is known for chilling horror driven by character drama. The anthology series “The Haunting” exemplifies that with modern, poignant twists on classic supernatural literature. “The Haunting of Hill House” reimagined Shirley Jackson with a family's tragic lives after their matriarch’s death in the haunted family home. This yielded piercing allegories for grief, mental health and reconciliation. “The Haunting of Bly Manor”, inspired by the works of Henry James, is even more moving. It's a ghost story from the perspective of the ghosts. Contrasted with that are redemptive love stories that enrich themes of life and remembrance. For all of Flanagan’s general mastery of mixing thrills and emotion, “The Haunting” is particularly… Well, the title says it all.

Raw emotion helped set “The Last of Us” apart from most action video games. Perhaps more shocking is how it sets HBO’s adaptation apart from most TV dramas. In its first season alone, the zombie opus earned a reputation for establishing many rich characters, only to quickly kill them off. At least Bill and Frank went out on their own terms in the third episode’s beautifully developed love story. Mostly, heroes Joel and Ellie must reckon with gruesome death, sacrificed principles, and human horror. They never seem to get desensitized to it, nor does the audience. Every hardship raises the stakes and enriches complex characters. Each episode of “The Last of Us” is an emotional ride, well worth playing through.

Anyone who’s worked in the culinary industry probably has more reason than others to cry at “The Bear”. It’s a darkly comedic portrayal of frantic professional and financial stress, until it’s a well-balanced underdog story. Carmy Berzatto leads most of the heartbreak as he struggles to maintain sobriety against family trauma and reviving his late brother’s restaurant. Self-destructive masculine passion ends up being a key theme in his bitter drama. It’s even harder to swallow for his employees’ own personal turmoil. But the hard-fought triumphs of their community and dreams ultimately hit the spot. “The Bear” blends a lot of flavors into an intense experience, with as much heart as meticulous presentation to leave its patrons emotionally satisfied.

Much of “Breaking Bad”’s renown may be based on its masterful tension, but so much of that is based on fans’ emotional investment. The show develops its characters so thoughtfully that their heavy fates often rise from shocking to heart-rending. Their moral tragedies really stand out, particularly in a complex representation of masculine hubris. Walter White enters the drug trade to provide for his family, only to become consumed by his power in the criminal underworld. His toxic downfall culminates in “Ozymandias”, widely considered the show’s best episode. Walt clearing his wife as his accomplice with a cruel phone call symbolizes men’s deepest dread. Altogether, though, “Breaking Bad” deserves more recognition as one of TV’s most wholly emotional achievements.

An animated talking horse mounting his acting comeback surely leaves you in tears from laughter. But for all of the ingenious satire in “BoJack Horseman”’s animal lore, it’s a Trojan horse for heavier human allegories. The title character’s struggles with alcoholism and remorse, stemming from a loveless childhood, feel shockingly raw. Developments like the drinking death of an old costar BoJack enabled are bold for any genre. With the animation, however, the bitter and the sweet moments take on an expressionism that makes them even more impactful. BoJack’s turmoil and ultimate redemption is still just one of many caringly defined character arcs on “BoJack Horseman”. It's simply the final word on how even the quirkiest cartoons can deliver the realest emotion.

Machismo is at the heart of the thrills and frills of “Rescue Me”. As irreverently as the dramedy handles the dynamics of New York firefighters, it holds their work and woes in high regard. Their tireless efforts to save lives is always emotionally intense, and sadly not always successful. This weighs heaviest on Tommy Gavin, a complicated antihero enduring alcoholism, family dysfunction, and 9/11 survivor’s guilt. The show is the gold standard for representing PTSD among firefighters. All of that's just the beginning of the hardship that Tommy and company must face to realize the men they should be. For all its charms, “Rescue Me”’s consistently searing drama drives home that even the toughest among us break down.

Mastering gritty drama with his work on “The Shield”, Kurt Sutter went harder with “Sons of Anarchy”. There are no heroes in a motorcycle club’s criminal exploits, yet the gripping thriller so carefully develops the characters’ morally ambiguous dynamics that you feel their relentless tragedy. Jax Teller holds down the sentimental core by struggling to redeem his late father’s club for the sake of his own sons. After he loses the honorable Opie Winston in Season 5, each devastating death represents Jax’s downfall. Sutter skillfully reconciles violence with raw emotion and distorted redemption. The spin-off “Mayans M.C.” continued that uniquely brutal form of consequential drama. But “SOA” set the extreme in cruelty and humanity to make you cry for the bad man.

With practically every episode leaving fans in tears, “This Is Us” gained an unfair reputation as a “women’s show”. Certainly, it handles the complexities of womanhood and female relationships beautifully. But its masculine themes are equally profound. Flashbacks center around Jack Pearson trying to be the decent man his abusive father never was. His example and untimely death send sons Kevin and Randall on their own difficult journeys to self-actualization. Remorse, responsibility, race, and many other themes are complicatedly nuanced under the male condition. The series finale even focuses on Jack simply teaching his sons how to shave. It’s the perfect coda for a perfect portrait of what it means to be a man. Of course, “This Is Us” is designed to make anyone weep.

Taylor Sheridan’s gritty, unsentimental drama is epitomized in the Neo-Western “Yellowstone”. But in showing how the Dutton dynasty began, “1883” finds deeper humanity in the harshness. The Duttons are part of a wagon train that must endure unforgiving elements to settle in the American West. The nuanced ensemble is led by Elsa Dutton, whose poetic narration on the beauty and brutality of nature is revealed to be posthumous. Key to the Western’s staggering authenticity is a vivid portrayal of hardship in pioneering and the trauma of Americans following the Civil War. Every episode is a visceral blend of epic thrills and poignant heartbreak. Sheridan may have mastered hardcore tension, but some fans believe the heart is what distinguishes “1883” as his masterpiece.

The HBO miniseries “Band of Brothers” transcended, not just TV production standards, but war filmmaking. Its format provides a full-scale dramatization of World War II’s Western Front, including its horror. Audiences are immersed into the experiences of ordinary men facing extraordinary carnage on either side of combat and in surrounding communities. Whether characters are developed across one episode or the series, their fates are always gutting. Amid this human cost, the episode “Why We Fight” fulfills its title with the liberation of a Nazi concentration camp. But “Band of Brothers” makes no excuses for the global bloodshed, nor do the companion series “The Pacific” and “Masters of the Air”. They simply express camaraderie and sorrow unlike any other male-driven drama of its format.


What are your favorite “guy cry” moments in a TV show? Share your feelings in the comments.