Comic book TV will be losing one of its foundational programs in a few months. Arrow started its eighth and final season a few weeks ago, which will conclude in January after a ten-episode run and participation in a crossover with its many spin-offs and sibling series adapting the famous Crisis on Infinite Earths storyline from DC Comics. As the series that single-handedly launched the current superhero TV boom, I think it’s worth looking back on the most notable moments from the show’s long history, be they good, bad, ugly, weird, or great. So without further ado, here are the first seven seasons of Arrow, ranked from worst to best.
7. Season 4
Season 4 of Arrow is probably the single strangest stretch of television I’ve ever seen. Which isn’t a way to avoid saying it’s bad. It is bad. By the end, it’s very bad. But more than that it’s just bizarre in so many ways.
Season 4 is a mess of contradictions, which is more or less immediately apparent. It’s hell-bent on using a lighter tone than the proceeding runs (likely to better coast on The Flash‘s massive initial success) but also informs the viewer by the end of the first episode that a main character will die (the choice of who being the show’s single greatest mistake) and turns two other fan-favorites into zombified rage-monsters who need to kill to survive (temporarily). The closest thing it gives Oliver to a significant character arc is the vague challenge to continue his superhero activities without drawing on “darkness” (an idea most often included by characters alternating between giving him judgemental lectures and cheesy motivational speeches) and implies that he’s successful in doing so, only to end with him at one of the loneliest positions he’s ever been in.
But Season 4 has bigger problems than contradicting itself. The biggest one is that it forgets what the show is supposed to be. By this point in the show’s run the creators had become fully subservient to the vocal social media fanbase of Emily Bett Rickards’ character Felicity Smoak, which desired the show to revolve fully around Felicity and her dysfunctional romance with Oliver rather than focusing on Oliver himself and spreading attention evenly among the supporting cast. This culminates in what are easily the two worst episodes in the show’s history, “Broken Hearts” and “Beacon of Hope”, in which Felicity and Oliver’s characters are reduced to pathetically moping after their latest breakup. Arrow’s always had significant soap opera elements but Season 4 allows the show’s melodramatic tendencies and the interests of one particular aspect of its fan base to stop it from being a superhero story.
Felicity isn’t the only part of the show that grows out of control in Season 4 either, unfortunately. For the first several years of its run, Arrow was in a more or less constant state of escalation in terms of the scale of the crime-fighting adventures it depicted. With the exception of season finales and other climactic episodes, a given installment from, say, the middle of Season 3 completely dwarfs one from Season 1 in terms of the outlandishness of the comic book elements and the complexities of how all the characters fit into the plot. Early on, this constant growth works in Season 4’s favor. Indeed, one of the strangest things about this confounding season of television is how well many of its episodes work as standalones. Episodes like “Haunted”, which brought Matt Ryan’s pitch-perfect version of DC hero John Constantine into the Arrowverse after his solo NBC show failed, or “Sins of the Father” which effectively ended the multi-season League of Assassins storyline are still supremely enjoyable as mini-blockbusters because of the sheer comic book spectacle they pack in, even if the serialized elements they feature are often weak. But somewhere along the way in Season 4, the show forgot how to continue getting bigger while still holding onto the intimacy and humanity at it’s core. By the last quarter or so of the run it’s apparent that the creators are as overwhelmed and out of their depth while directing the story as Oliver and company are while battling Damien Darhk and his forces. By the time you get to the truly absurd season finale, “Schism”, you’ll know you’re watching the Michael Bay version of Arrow and it is not a pretty sight.
I could go on and on about all the other specific problems with Season 4 but I think ultimately the point is that this was the year Arrow truly lost its own sense of identity.
Best Episode: “Haunted”, both for Ryan’s involvement and chemistry with Amell and for being one of the few episodes in this Felicity-obsessed season to give some other characters (namely the Lance family) meaningful roles.
6. Season 6
For all its ups and downs Arrow has, for the most part, remained if not highly entertaining at least highly watchable (even if in Season 4 it was only in the way that a car fire is watchable). Season 6 is the lone exception to this, the only time Arrow was actively boring and for that I personally dislike it more than Season 4 even if I can tell the latter is objectively worse in quality.
The supremely dull nature of Season 6 is all the more frustrating because of how much potential the run has to be great, potential it squanders thoruoughly. Several important developments in the overall series narrative happen in the sixth year but they’re executed in the most lifeless ways possible. These poor storytelling instincts are on display immediately in the season premiere, which wastes Season 5’s excellent cliffhanger ending by refusing to give it the lasting consequences it deserved.
This is as good a time as any to talk about Oliver-bashing because while it’s not a problem limited to the run, Season 6 does engage in the practice to an enfuriating degree. Oliver Queen is a heavily flawed character, there’s no denying that. It’s a huge part of what makes him such a compelling lead for the series (and the Arrowverse as a whole, really) and a lot of the show’s best stories have come through acknowledging those flaws and forcing him to confront them. But weaker periods in the show’s history have mistaken doing that for allowing characters with no right to do so to criticize Oliver for absurd reasons. Some of the most egregious examples of this come in Season 6 as results of the ridiculous “civil war” story arc in which the members of “New Team Arrow” (Rene Ramirez, Curtis Holt, and Dinah Drake) strike out on their own and incite conflict with Oliver, Felicity, and Diggle because of a bunch of petty disagreements. By season’s end Oliver is somehow the one apologizing for the debacle even though his former proteges are clearly the ones in the wrong. Even if the writing had done a better job establishing New Team Arrow’s arguments I doubt this deplorable storyline could have been saved, as the creators’ clearly forgot that at the end of the day, and despite all his flaws, Oliver is the hero of the show, the one we tune in to watch, and the most likable character. Why would we want to watch a version of the show that’s just tearing him down all the time?
Best Episode: Arrow’s part of the 2017 crossover “Crisis on Earth-X” is the most entertaining but I’ll give the nod to “Fundamentals” for being one of the only episodes in this disaster of a season to tell a concise, compelling story about Oliver.
5. Season 7
The most uneven season, the most recent run is defined by excellent highs (a publicly exposed Oliver surviving prison, the unexpected friendship between Felicity and Laurel-2) and uninteresting lows (the Emiko Queen story arc and the latter season status quo of Team Arrow joining the Star City Police Department). There’s simply not that much to say about this season other than it feels like more of a group of story pieces that needed to be featured at some point before the show ended rather than a thematically coherent, singular tale. It’s never bad but at it’s worst (namely the end of the season other than the last ten minutes of the finale) it is frustratingly lifeless, as it’s rather apparent that the creators are essentially biding their time until they can really go crazy in the final season and Crisis on Infinite Earths. Let’s hope that the last run is as special as it sounds because it would be a shame if the show went out on as mixed a note as this.
Best Episode: “The Demon” takes the most advantage of the prison status quo by forcing Ollie to team up with former mentor and enemy Talia al Ghul (Lexa Doig, returning in a delightful cameo after her guest role in Season 5). Firing on all cylinders with all around excellent action, character development, and plot progression “The Demon” feels the most like classic Arrow out of any installment since Season 5 ended.
4. Season 3
Season 3 is an example of how outside factors can affect one’s opinion of a text. When first released the third run received a decent amount of criticism, and while many of the factors myself and others objected to at the time (the romantic drama and convoluted and sometimes plainly disappointing use of the villains, for example) are still problems, our negative view of the season as a whole was likely exacerbated both by how consistently excellent the second season was and by The Flash‘s exceptional first run (which, as it turned out would be its only one better than good, at least so far) airing at the same time. Because, upon a rewatch several years later I found Season 3 to be, for the most part, a fairly solid season, that, while below the standard set by its predecessors, is the last example of the show in it’s original incarnation before Season 4 and the growth of the shared Arrowverse fundamentally altered its storytelling.
Still, it is worth addressing the few major, undeniable issues that drag the season down. Season 3 is as good a point as any to discuss for the last time the Oliver and Felicity romance that has been the most controversial aspect of the series for years, as this is the season where it took that title. Believe it or not, for the first two years the fanbase was almost completely united in its praise of the Felicity character, with particular attention given to the way the character and Emily Bett Rickards’ performances brought a welcome dose of comedic levity to the often grim series, and to Rickards’ strong chemistry with Stephen Amell. Oliver and Felicity’s relationship (which began to develop obviously romantic aspects as early as Season 2) was also refreshing because their shorter history prevented the melodramatic aspects of Oliver’s romances with Laurel and others from creeping in. By Season 2’s end most viewers were at least cautiously optimistic about the prospect of a more dedicated romantic storyline for Oliver and Felicity (even if some, like me, didn’t think it should last too long) but as soon as the next run started and she was repositioned as the main love interest it was clear the show had taken a misstep. It was apparent even in the Season 3 premiere that the dynamic between the two had been shifted from the lighthearted, flirtatious, mutually supportive relationship previously constructed into an unhealthy, needlessly complicated star-crossed romance, and things only got worse from there as the melodrama returned with a vengeance.
The change in Olicity isn’t the only systemic problem with Season 3, however. There are also major issues with how it handles its villains. Season 1 antagonist Malcolm Merlyn (John Barrowman) returns in an expanded role but the show’s inability to commit to him as either full villain or gradually reforming anti-hero results in a convoluted plot and an unreliable partnership between Malcolm and the heroes that make little emotional sense on either’s behalf. It’s all clear evidence of the creators bending over backward to include Barrowman as much as possible and while he is an absolute riot to watch as the character, his presence isn’t worth the narrative confusion it creates. Similarly unfocused is the show’s approach to Ra’s al Ghul (Matt Nable), the more plain enemy of the season. The show’s version of the famed DC Big Bad is majestically terrifying in his first few appearances but his goals quickly become frustratingly inconsistent and by rooting his motivations solely in adherence to increasingly convoluted (and often contradictory) League of Assassins customs the show does not allow Nable to portray a villain worth investing in as Season 1 Malcolm, and Season 2’s Slade Wilson (Manu Bennet) was.
Despite all this Season 3 remains entertaining and worthwhile and a lot of the credit for that must go to the work it does with the supporting characters (excluding Malcolm and Felicity). This was the last season before original and long-time cast members began to leave or were written off the show en masse (leading to the influx of new characters in Season 5) and Season 3 gives a lot of these long-time players some of their best material. It’s supremely satisfying, for example, to see Laurel and Roy (Colton Haynes) finally take on their comic book identities of Black Canary and Arsenal, respectively, and this season also predictably features the most extensive use of Ra’s’ daughter Nyssa al Ghul, a frequent guest character on the show played by the constantly scene-stealing Katrina Law. But the best thing by far about Season 3 is how much of it revolves around Thea Queen (Willa Holland). Oliver’s younger sister is probably the show’s second best character all around after her brother (rivaled only by Caity Lotz’s Sara Lance, and she moved over to Legends of Tomorrow anyway), and Holland one of its most versatile and reliable performers so the fact that one of the central emotional storylines of the season is the battle over Thea’s soul is a big plus.
That leaves us with Oliver himself. Our hero’s Season 3 arc, in which he questions whether or not he can successfully operate as the Arrow (still not referred to as “Green” at this point) and live as Oliver Queen at the same time, and if not, which of those identities he should choose, isn’t as deep as the show thinks it is (and arguably has been better depicted in both earlier and later points of the show) but it does bring out some nice, vulnerable work from Amell. And, it feels like a necessary coda to the secret identity-centric storytelling that defined so much of the show’s first era, as by the end of the third run all the important people in Oliver’s life know his secret, forcing the following seasons to adjust the way they challenged his dual existence. That feels descriptive of Season 3 as a whole: it’s a necessary and meaningful part of the overall story but its actual storytelling could be sharper.
Best Episode: Most people immediately name “The Climb” for the epic first duel between Oliver and Ra’s it features but that’s only the last ten minutes of the episode, the rest of which is weighed down with the nonsensical Malcolm plot. My vote goes to “The Brave and The Bold” the first Arrow episode to be part of one of the franchise’s annual crossovers. It features excellent character arcs for Oliver and Lyla (Audrey Marie Anderson) and clever use of Barry Allen, with meaningful contrast between his and Oliver’s crime-fighting styles and a fun use of their friendly rivalry and friendship.
3. Season 5
After the chaos of Season 4, a lot of viewers (me included) would have been satisfied with a back to basics approach for the show. And early on Season 5 does go that route, with the early episodes going back to Oliver (and a reconfigured Team Arrow, but more on them later) fighting street crime and the former returning to brutal tactics. But Season 5 does much more than that. Keenly aware that it’s the last season featuring flashbacks to Oliver’s exile, these episodes represented a major turning point for the show (which was originally planned to only run for five seasons), providing epic contrast between the two darkest chapters in Oliver’s life: his time working his way up the ranks of the Russian mob, the Bratva, before returning home, and his battle against the ruthless serial killer Prometheus (who seeks to tear his life apart because of a wrong Oliver committed against him long ago) in the present day.
Part of the reason Season 5 is so impressive is that, in terms of the cast, it’s not playing with a full deck. By this point many of the show’s best characters and actors had left (like Colton Haynes/Roy) while others (Holland, Cassidy) were in reduced roles (even if the latter would return to main cast status the following year). This is addressed through the vaguely meta plotline of Oliver putting together the aforementioned new team of fledgling vigilantes. This storyline really works more as a concept (with a lot of the season revolving around Oliver finally accepting once and for all that he can’t fight crime, or live, alone) than it does in terms of actually making the team compelling. Rick Gonzalez was entertaining throughout the fifth run as obscure DC hero Wild Dog (even if his character was thoroughly ruined in Season 6) but the other recruits are bland at best and it’s something of a minor miracle that giving them so much focus didn’t result in another disastorous season. Simply put, the season that features Curtis (Echo Kellum) bumbling first attempts at being a superhero shouldn’t be this good.
But to make it seem like Season 5 is simply not bad when it could have been would vastly understate its value. This is an excellent season and a big part of its success comes down to having a captivating villain. Prometheus is the perfect antagonist for a year that meditates on Oliver’s legacy because he both serves an important thematic purpose, namely dredging up the darkest parts of Oliver’s past to make him reconsider his morality, while also being utterly terrifying and deviously clever. Josh Segarra gives a consistently unsettling performance that is both darkly funny and chilling, often at the same time. He also brings out the best in Stephen Amell in all of their deliciously tense confrontations.
Amell is in especially strong form this year in general. He’s a class act and always gives his all, and was often the most watchable aspect of the show in the weaker eras, but it’s clear he connected more with this material than he had in a while, and with good reason. While Prometheus and the Russia flashbacks are the most unique aspects, Season 5 ultimately shines mostly due to the profoundly moving Oliver story it tells as he finally accepts his status as a hero and exorcizes his darkest demons.
Best Episode: It’s a toss up between the 100th episode (and Arrow portion of the excellent 2016 crossover) “Invasion!” and the dark psychological thriller “Kapiushon”, with the choice ultimately coming down to whether one prefers a lighter (though still deeply emotional) installment or a more brutal and tragic one. I’ll go with “Invasion!” for optimism’s sake. The epic and powerful season finale “Lian Yu” would be in contention too if Season 6 didn’t immediately undermine its thrilling cliffhanger.
2. Season 1
The season that started it all is still one of the best, not just in the series but in the whole extended franchise. Ultimately it’s because of this exceptional run that the Arrowverse is possible and it’s easy to see why people were so immediately fascinated by Oliver’s story and the world it inhabits.
A lot of Season 1’s charm comes from its relative simplicity. The immediate fallout of Oliver’s return from exile provides some of the most compelling dramatic material for the supporting cast that is much more emotionally effective than a lot of the soapy subplots they’re saddled within some of the later seasons. Of course, Oliver’s homecoming also provides the man himself with some of his most interesting and powerful story points. The Emerald Archer’s transition from nearly unhinged survivor, hell-bent on revenge, to a more benevolent crime fighter is one of the strongest steps in his series-long journey. Stephen Amell settles into the role with impressive speed, and really hits his stride performing material dealing with Oliver’s PTSD in the middle and latter parts of the season.
The biggest advantage that Season 1 has that even the best of its successors lack is Tommy (on a regular basis). Colin Donnell’s charming and multi-faceted performance made Oliver’s best friend one of the show’s most plainly human and likable characters, with a powerful character arc all his own.
There’s a ton more to love about Season 1, from the spectacular action (which has maybe never been consistently better than it is here, when, thanks to Oliver’s lethal crime-fighting methods, it was free to be as brutal as necessary), Moira’s scheming, and Malcolm’s early, more purposeful incarnation, elevated to supreme villainy by John Barrowman’s electrifying work, but to avoid rambling with affection I’ll just say this: while it is outdone by one of its successors, Season 1 is a masterful achievement which paved the way for the wide range of superhero stories currently on television and is a fascinating and powerful tale all its own.
Best Episode: The pilot (which holds up remarkably well to this day), and mid-season installments “The Odyssey” and “Dead To Rights” are stiff competition, but nothing can top “Sacrifice”, the epic finale that showed how bold and ambitious Arrow can be at its best.
1. Season 2
Arrow proved that having a sophomore slump is in no way a foregone conclusion if the people behind a show maintain their passion and smarts, with a second run bigger and better even than its excellent first. Season 2 does everything a good sequel should, massively expanding the world of the show (and not just by introducing Barry Allen), and simultaneously expanding the characters’ histories and pushing them forward in interesting ways.
A significant amount of the praise for Season 2 was directed at its villain, for good reason. Manu Bennet’s intensity and charisma ensured Slade’s lasting reputation as the series’ best antagonist, towering over even greats like Prometheus and Season 1 Malcolm. But the best thing about Slade’s heel turn is how it contributes to Oliver’s character development. Season 2 features one of the most meaningful uses of the serialized flashbacks, with powerful contrast between how Oliver handles his friend’s fall during his second year on Lian Yu and in the present day.
That’s really what makes the season as a whole great. This is probably the most complicated season in terms of the sheer number of characters (with the exception of Prometheus and one or two others introduced in Season 5 all of the best characters in the show’s history appear here in some form or another) and the complexity with which various storylines are linked. But it’s also the most focused, with everything included, from Sara Lance’s return and the introduction of the League of Assassins, to the Queen family drama brought about by Moira’s mistakes, contributing in some way to the main story of Oliver’s evolution from vengeful vigilante to true hero.
Everything about Season 2 is great. The scale is immense without getting out of control, with every episode feeling like an event, the action is creative and ambitious, all the actors are on top of their games (special shout out to Katie Cassidy for the work she does with a complicated arc for Laurel that wasn’t appreciated enough at the time), and there’s simply more story packed into these 23 episodes than many shows tell in their entire lifetimes. More than just one of the best runs of superhero TV ever made it’s one of the best superhero stories ever told in any medium and great television regardless of genre.
Best Episode: This is an extremely tough call as its almost like picking the best episode in the show’s history. My mind always immediately goes to “Seeing Red” for its perfect execution of various storylines and the way in which it hides its shocking twist ending in plain sight, so I’ll stick with it. The final ten minutes of this episode are also without question the single strongest stretch of filmmaking in Arrowverse history so there’s that too. That said Season 2 is essentially made up of one fantastic hour after another so there are plenty of other gems to choose from like “Three Ghosts” or the final three episodes of the season (“City of Blood”, “Streets of Fire” and “Unthinkable”) which play out like a climactic film, with most of their action taking place over the course of a single chaotic evening.
