The Godfather. Citizen Kane. 8 1/2. Vertigo.

The Wire. Sopranos. Breaking Bad. M*A*S*H*.

WTF with Mark Maron. This American Life. Comedy Bang! Bang!. 99% Invisible.

There is a class of movies, television and yes, podcasts for which the critical consensus is overwhelmingly “go experience this.” I’ve hardly written anything about the four podcasts listed above because much has already been said. Does the world need another 500 words on why these shows are worth your time?

For the purposes of this guide, however, I’m assuming you’ve never heard of Mars’ thoughtfully-designed juggernaut so I’ll indulge myself and tell you why you should bother. 99PI is about the things that make our lives go round that are usually taken for granted and explaining how they came to be and why. From barbed wire to the crazy-waving-arms guys at car dealerships, nothing is too commonplace for Mars.

My 99PI listening sessions usually go something like this:

“Oh come on Roman, do we need a whole show about Plimsoll lines?”

end of the show

“Wow, the Plimsoll line is pretty damn interesting.”

Despite my cynicism, Mars always makes a believer out of me. And if that doesn’t make you want to listen I don’t know what to tell you.

Recommended Episode: A Cheer for Samuel Plimsoll

My higher education revolved around language. From a double major as an undergrad upthrough to my masters, I’m well-versed on the topic though not an expert by even the most generous definition. As a consequence of my educational background I have a few friends who are surprised when I don’t pounce on grammatical errors, ensure words are used “properly,” and don’t cringe when I hear new slang pop up in regular conversation. They are sometimes annoyed when I do not stand guardian over language as if she were a helpless waif in need of my protection.

Despite (or, because of) my familiarity with language I actually tend to think of her as a shiftless raconteur who will regale the willing with ribald stories and scandalous revelations, more than capable of looking after herself thankyouverymuch. I’m not certain Helen Zaltzman would agree, exactly, but her show The Allusionist is, in her own words, “a dive under the bonnet of language to tinker with the engine,” so there must be a certain level of corroboration.

Because of language’s shifty nature it can be a bit difficult to talk about in a way that is interesting and entertaining. It’s easy to ascend the high-horse of of pedantry, to philosophize on exacting etymology and historical usage, effectively boring your audience before they’ve had a chance to decide whether they care or not. On the other end you can eschew pedantry altogether for the entertaining-but-unhelpful folk etymology, anecdotes that might be good for a few chuckles but mostly fictional. A good yarn, but not much else.

Folk etymology has its own place and is popular because it’s relatable. The Allusionist highlights the relatable bits of its linguistic subject and marries it to a historical or social context for a final product that is engaging and thought-provoking. Zaltzman’s focus isn’t the how so much as the why. The episode about everyone’s least favorite four-letter word revolves around the root of its revulsion and the consequences of said reaction. I was, in turn, confronted with my own feelings for a word I don’t think I have ever said aloud. My horizons were broadened and my self examined. I could always use more of both.

That episode, too, also has the funniest, most ridiculous introductions I can remember. I like to think this proves that when you let your hair down around language and listen for a bit she’s able to give a good laugh for your trouble.*

Recommended Episode: Detonating the C-Bomb

*originally posted 2/16/15

As declared by the title, Benjamen Walker’s Theory of Everything is about … everything. Walker’s scope is certainly ambitious, dipping his toes in technology, philosophy, ethics, and other abstractions.

While I can certainly appreciate Walker’s thoroughness of research and willingness to explore ephemeral corners of the human experience, I often found myself wishing he would find a point to make amid the sweep of his topics. More often than not I have a difficult time focusing because I’m unsure what Walker’s trying to get me to see. Leaving the listener to draw their own conclusion is admirable but a little direction would be appreciated.

Recommended Episode: Red, White, Blue & Orange

“True crime” isn’t a genre I gravitate toward, at least not without a nudge. I was, for example, drawn to Serialbecause of its pedigree and not its premise. Though I listened through the end there were times where I felt like I should have stopped, like I was abetting something exploitative. Probably an overly-sensitive reaction, but that’s where I landed emotionally when it all wrapped up.

It was then with some reservations that I approached Radiotopia’s entry into the genre, bracing myself for a return to the ethically ambiguous. Thankfully Criminal‘s showrunners Phoebe Judge, Eric Mennel, and Lauren Spohrer come at the subject of crime and criminal activity from odd angles and avoid any moral quagmires.

The stories themselves aren’t anything new. We’ve heard about murder, theft, counterfeiting, and the like. But Criminal never tells the story as I expect it to be told. Instead of learning about a murder and why it happened we hear from victims family and learn about how and why they responded the way they did. A story about Venus flytraps and the people stealing them also deals with the buyers of the ill-gotten plants and the thefts’ economic impact. We learn about a woman who started a life of crime with her boyfriend, how she got away, and how she feels about it as an adult.

Though Criminal doesn’t skirt around the sensitivity of the many tragedies at the heart of their stories I was never under the impression that the dignity of the victims and the victims’ families weren’t carefully considered when deciding how the stories should be told. It’s as close to guilt-free criminal activity as you can get.

Recommended Episode: Dropping Like Flies

Have you ever been in an abandoned barn? I grew up around farms and came across a few of them in my younger days. They’re strange places. Utilitarian and obviously built with purpose but filled with mystery when they’re not in use. I was always the kind to skirt around the edges, look through gaps in the rough hewn siding and, more often than not, decide to stay outside and admire. My brother, however, took the opposite tack, heading in with sleeves rolled up pants hiked high. “I wonder what’s over here…” he’d say and I would follow along to see what neat thing he’d found under layers of dust and tarps.

The Kitchen Sisters (Davia Nelson & Nikki Silva) are like my brother and the world is their barn. They find the forgotten or ignored at the margins and give it a good look, dust it off, and tell its story. Similar to 99% Invisible, I often find myself wondering why the subject at hand is worth a story at all, but it doesn’t take long before Nelson and Silva justify my time. When I finish I often want to read a book on the subject they’ve covered, find a map of a region they’ve explored, or look at pictures of the folks they’ve interviewed. Fugitive Waves piques my curiosity in a way few shows do and makes me wish my younger self had poked around with a little more courage.

Recommended Episode: America Eats: A Hidden Archive

You probably didn’t notice, but the cover art for The Heart is displayed at a larger resolution than the other cover art in this and other pieces. I did this because I think it’s important for understanding the podcast. The illustration of the heart is veiny, bulbous, practically throbbing. It’s a visceral representation of the heart as an organ and as the idea of the heart as the seat of emotion.

The Heart podcast (especially in its earlier incarnation, Audio Smut) is as visceral as its cover art. My instinct is to couch what follows in jokey Internet language but, I’ll ignore the impulse and just say The Heart stirred feelings and physical reactions in ways no other podcast has. My cheeks burned, my palms moistened, my toes curled. It’s no surprise that a show about feeling, sexuality, and sensuality inspires sensual reactions. I often feel deeply uncomfortable listening to The Heart, but never shamed. It’s a safe place to listen, explore, and wonder.

Recommended Episode: The Subway

I imagine Love + Radio might have begun with a thought like this: if I run into someone interesting I’m going to turn on the microphone and see what happens.

This apparent passivity drove me crazy at first — if you’ve read any of my other reviews you know how much value I place on individual perspective. However, once I began to think of the podcast as fishing with a net instead of a harpoon gun I began to loosen up and enjoy the eclectic stories trawled from the vast schools of human experience. I might not always get my favorite fish, but I never get a chewy old boot.

Recommended Episode: An Old Lion or a Lover’s Lute

I moved out of the dormitories and into my own apartment my senior year of college. On the first night in my new digs I put a metal trash can in the middle of my living room, dumped all my old love letters, journals, and notes from high school into the trash can and lit lit the heap on fire.

At the time I felt like I had to mark the occasion with a ceremony, no matter how petty. And what better way than burning the physical manifestation of my past in a piddling dumpster fire? I guess there was some catharsis at the time but after listening to Mortified, a podcast about adults reliving their most embarrassing moments of their teenaged years, I wonder if I haven’t made a mistake.

I think now it might have been better to revisit those memories as an adult and think about the mechanics of exactly why they were so embarrassing. It’s easy to editorialize our lives by putting our best selves visible on Facebook, Twitter, or our blogs but how many opportunities do we have to confront moments of shame and learn from them? I can’t do that for myself (at least not through the worst of my high school notes and diaries) but with Mortified I can get a little closer.

Recommended Episode: 03 Kevin: Final Frontier

“Hey, wait — I know this piece,” I muttered when I played the episode available in Radio Diaries catalog, “Teenage Diaries Revisited: Amanda.” I don’t know when I first heard it but the audio entry from a young girl confronting her Catholic family about her bisexuality stuck with me. Amanda was one of the teenagers involved in a project that outfitted kids with microphones and let them keep their own audio journals. There are several of these revisits mixed into the Radio Diaries catalog and the teenager’s intensity and focus are a good stand-in of the show as a whole.

Radio Diaries is similar to other real-life storytelling programs but differentiates itself by allowing the perspective of its subjects to shine through in each episode. That is, it would be more akin to Samuel Plimsoll telling the story of his water line rather than Roman Mars. Intense personality makes a diary a diary, and focused editing reveals entertaining and affecting stories of people living their lives as best they can.

Recommended Episode: #28: The Greatest Songwriter You’ve Never Heard Of

At times I feel like I’m repeating myself with these mini-reviews. They boil down to “true, deeply human stories.” Absolutely accurate, but absolutely boring to read. And write.

Lea Thau’s Strangers podcast tells true, deeply human stories about strangers we meet and how they affect our lives. It’s fascinating to me that a host about strangers, about others, doesn’t seem to have the capacity to keep anyone in that category after she’s met them.

Usually these are stories from people or stories about people — there’s a certain amount of distance between the first person narrative of the story, having the story filtered through the host, and then having the story arrive in a neatly packaged bow in podcast form. Thau has, if not demolished, at least breached the wall between listener and stranger by opening herself up to her interviewees and allowing her own compassion, hesitation, and care to show clearly. Without vulnerability strangers remain strangers forever but Thau’s openness makes it easy for me to poke through the holes walls and see who’s waiting on the other side.

Recommended Episode: Jenni Rowell: Life Interrupted, Jenni, Now

Besides being a fiction podcast, The Truth is still a bit of an outlier. Narrative in popular Western culture has moved toward serialization in the last decade but The Truth tells short, episodic stories (with the occasional two-parter).

It’s a bit of an adjustment but the format is refreshing. I’m reminded of what can be lost when stories become sagas told over many volumes: we forget to wonder “what happens next.” Even without ending on a cliffhanger The Truth hits its best beats when the story is told and leaves just enough space for me to wonder about what happens next. It’s satisfying enough, but not so much I’m not left wanting more.

Recommended Episode: In Good Hands Part I, Part II

More reviews at Ryan’s Podcast Reviews