15 Best Psych Episodes, Ranked

We know, you know that we’re telling the truth when we say “Psych” was one of the greatest procedural shows ever made. The USA mystery series followed the case work of private investigators Shawn Spencer (a fake forensic psychic, played by James Roday Rodriguez) and Burton “Gus” Guster (a nervous pharmaceutical salesman, played by Dulé Hill).

Each week, the two man-children — often in half-reluctant collaboration with a dysfunctional Santa Barbara Police Department — would use their particular set of skills to bring criminals to justice, in stories that delightfully dumbed-down the overly self-serious crime procedural subgenre to make it work as wacky, irreverent, and subversive comedy.

In anticipation of a potential fourth sequel film from Peacock, we’ve delved back into the case files to find our favorite mysteries. No deceiving, no bending — here are the 15 best episodes of Psych, ranked.

After a banner first season, “Psych” kicked off its second outing with “American Duos,” a spoof of the (then) culturally ubiquitous reality singing competition “American Idol.” Tim Curry guest stars as Nigel St. Nigel, a cruel British judge on the titular fictional reality show (a parody of Simon Cowell) who contacts Shawn and Gus after he begins to suspect someone is trying to assassinate him. Of course, this logically means the duo must go undercover as contestants on the show themselves … for some reason.

As the “Psych” season 2 premiere, “American Duos” showed the series’ growing audience two things: One, that the amusingly goofy first season had neither been an accident nor a fluke, and two, that things were only going to get bigger, weirder, and funnier as its stage increased. (In addition to Curry headlining the guest ensemble, prolific comedy filmmaker John Landis was brought in to direct.) The case at the center of the episode has just enough thrills and twists to satisfy an observant mystery fan but never overtakes the breezy comedic tone that carries the musical murder mystery to its curtain call.

Jumping ahead to season 3, “Murder?… Anyone?… Anyone?… Bueller?” takes the “Psych” boys back to their high school stomping grounds where — surprise, surprise — someone winds up getting killed. As not-so-subtly implied by the title, the episode is an homage to the work of filmmaker John Hughes — if he had made an early aughts police procedural, we guess. What it lacks in its ability to emulate Hughes’ style and energy in such a specific context, it makes up for with unique humor and twists, as well as a barrage of superficial references, the last of which is no less amusing even though you’ll see it coming from a mile away.

There are plenty of classic “Psych” moments that remind one why viewers were so loyal to this show — murderers hiding a corpse in a mascot, Shawn revealing that he somehow joined the custodial union as a teenager so he could break into the school, Lassiter (Timothy Omundson) finding a reason to arrest his own date. But more than anything else, this is one of those episodes that delivers the full potential of the series’ premise by sidestepping the detective agency storyline and making Shawn and Gus feel like chaotic superheroes, springing into action when called.

On Friday, February 13, 2009, fans of the “Friday the 13th” franchise were given a thrilling, surprising, and surprisingly effective love letter to the horror behemoth that surely reminded them why they fell in love with Jason Voorhees in the first place. Of course, we’re not talking about the reboot that dominated the box office in the late 2000s (despite being less entertaining than a rainy day at summer camp) — we’re talking about “Tuesday the 17th,” a season 3 episode of “Psych” that aired on the exact same day.

Like most great “Psych” episodes, “Tuesday the 17th” anticipates where the viewer’s mind will naturally lead them when they understand the premise and gets ahead of it to keep them guessing. The story sees Shawn and Gus returning to their old summer camp after one of their friends makes the questionable decision to buy and revamp it despite grim rumors surrounding its closure. While the episode does deliver on the promise of a “Psych” take on the slasher subgenre, even returning viewers may find their expectations subverted by the end.

Alfred Hitchcock is known for crafting some of the most iconic thriller and horror films in the history of cinema, and it was only a matter of time before he became the fixation of the dark sense of humor of “Psych.” A sequel to the season 3 finale “An Evening with Mr. Yang,” “Mr. Yin Presents…” ended season 4 by reopening arguably the show’s most compelling case. When they discover that the enigmatic serial killer Mr. Yang may have secretly had an accomplice who’s still at large and out for vengeance, Shawn and the Santa Barbara Police Department must work against a ticking clock to save their loved ones and themselves.

“Mr. Yin” may divide some fans, creating an unusually serious and even tragic atmosphere that doesn’t provide the “Psych” viewing experience one might expect. That said, it’s because of this departure that the episode stands out, ending the series’ fourth season with an emotionally riveting finale that raises the stakes and changes some elements of the status quo. Overall, it proved that “Psych” knew how and when to take itself seriously. Corbin Bernsen, who plays Shawn’s father Henry in the series, noted in a 2014 USA marathon special event that “Mr. Yin” is his favorite episode of “Psych.”

For fans of the late and legendary filmmaker David Lynch, “Dual Spires” should be at the very top of their “Psych” watch (or rewatch) list. The beloved season 5 episode is an homage to arguably Lynch’s defining work – the chilling ’90s mystery series “Twin Peaks.”

As Shawn and Gus descend into an unexpected and increasingly unsettling murder case during their visit to the secluded town of Dual Spires, writers James Roday Rodriguez and Bill Callahan and director Matt Shakman (the prolific TV director who would go on to helm Marvel Studios’ “The Fantastic Four: First Steps”) imbue the story with every ounce of love they clearly have for Lynch’s work. This includes a litany of subtle dialogue, visual, and stylistic references, as well as an ensemble of guest stars pulled right from the show.

Ray Wise returns to “Psych” as Father Peter Westley (having first appeared in the “Exorcist” homage “The Devil Is in the Details… and the Upstairs Bedroom”) and is joined by Dana Ashbrook, Sheryl Lee, Robyn Lively, Lenny Von Dohlen, Sherilyn Fenn, and Catherine E. Coulson. Their presence, along with the show’s pitch-perfect amalgamation of the two series’ energies, results in a worthy — and, in the wake of Lynch’s passing, bittersweet — pastiche. Rodriguez is particularly proud of how the episode turned out and claimed it as his favorite episode of the series.

In the 2000s, soap operas were a prime target for parody. “Psych” couldn’t miss out on the fun and took its own stab at skewering the genre in season 2’s “Lights, Camera… Homicidio,” a send-up of the distinct telenovela subgenre. Shawn and Gus are hired by the Santa Barbara Police Department to investigate one of their most confusing murders yet — a man who was caught on camera stabbing a woman, yet claims he’s not the true culprit and was somehow framed. As the case grows, they realize someone may have employed a bit of television trickery to end a rising star’s life.

There are admittedly some parts of “Lights, Camera… Homicidio” that haven’t aged all that gracefully, not least of all the difficult subject matter of an accidental on-set death involving a swapped prop weapon. Otherwise, it’s a particularly great showcase for James Roday Rodriguez, giving him a delicious amount of runway by inexplicably having Shawn get roped into the actual cast of the fictional telenovela. Between his attempts at performing and his work solving the case, hardly a minute goes by without a laugh.

“Psych” often has to strike a delicate balance between the charming stupidity of its premise and characters and the necessary intelligence of both being a detective and the murder mystery genre at large. “Office Space” pretty much abandons this balance entirely, diving headfirst into a slapstick-level setup that unravels into an even more ridiculous mystery.

A (very loose) riff on the 1999 film of the same name, the season 7 episode begins with Shawn and Gus being forced to solve the murder of Gus’ boss not because it’s kinda their job and/or the right thing to do, but because their god-level incompetence has led them to accidentally forensically implicate themselves and Juliet (Maggie Lawson) in the crime. Does this premise hold up to any external logic whatsoever? No, and neither does almost anything that follows it. And yet, “Office Space” is executed with such gleeful, seemingly willful ignorance of reality that it gives way to maximum dumb fun.

Four seasons in, “Psych” was still trying to find new ways to prevent its procedural premise from driving the show at a stagnant pace. Perhaps aware that even genre mashups and faithful homages would eventually run out their welcome if relied on too heavily (a lesson they arguably forgot in later seasons), the show played with its structure to give us episodes like “Shawn Takes a Shot in the Dark.”

Airing in season 4, “Shawn Takes a Shot in the Dark” separates Shawn from the rest of the crew, beginning the story with him having been kidnapped by a strange man and held captive in the back of a truck. The story that follows broadens the scale in a more grounded way than flashy episodes like “American Duos” or “Lights, Camera… Homicidio,” giving it the feel of a weighty action thriller unique to anything else in the “Psych” library.

Though you have to wait until the middle seasons to experience many of the top tier “Psych” episodes, season 1 does have a number of hits that remain series classics. “Cloudy… with a Chance of Murder,” “Shawn vs. the Red Phantom,” and “Woman Seeking Dead Husband: Smokers Okay, No Pets” are all early high points that helped capture viewers during the show’s inaugural season — but none were quite as decisive as “Scary Sherry: Bianca’s Toast.”

One of the scarier entries in the series as a whole, “Scary Sherry” largely follows Juliet as she goes undercover in a college sorority to investigate a supposed ritual suicide that may well have been a murder (unsurprisingly, this episode is the favorite of actor Maggie Lawson). Shawn and Gus are called in to help with the case, dutifully serving the Santa Barbara Police Department by imposing on the sorority house’s pajama party.

This episode is one of if not the earliest example of the series managing genuinely dark subject matter within its decidedly goofy tone. Your mileage may vary in the 2020s, but we found that “Scary Sherry” still mostly holds up, especially as a solid standout of “Psych” season 1.

Yet another high point coming out of the third season of “Psych,” “Lassie Did a Bad, Bad Thing” upsets the show’s regular formula by making one of its stars the prime suspect in a crime. Carlton Lassiter is an inherently bizarre character, with Timothy Omundson playing him as an antisocial parody of the stock procedural cop. Both he and the writers dial this up to 11 by staging a scenario in which Lassiter is suspected of having killed a gang leader he apprehended at the beginning of the episode.

There’s not really much tension around whether or not Lassiter actually committed the crime — of course, the series isn’t about to take a dark heel turn with one of its beloved malcontents, and it smartly gets Shawn on the same page as the audience almost immediately. The tension (and comedy) comes from Shawn’s attempts to prove Lassie’s innocence in spite of the fact that he is the precisely sort of antisocial, hyper-violent vigilante oaf who would frantically and extrajudicially execute a prisoner to prevent the FBI from giving them a sweetheart deal. Omundson is in top form throughout, using every scene to show different sides of Lassie as he reckons with who he might be.

“Psych” had only a handful of recurring antagonists over the course of its initial eight-season run. Outside Mr. Yang and Mr. Yin, none were as memorable as the comically devilish Pierre Despereaux. Originally portrayed by Cary Elwes in the season 4 episode “Extradition: British Columbia,” the actor reprised his role for a sequel a season later. Despereaux is a literal mustache-twirling art thief, and in “Extradition II: The Actual Extradition Part,” he lures Shawn and Gus back to the Canadian province only to escape custody, leading them on a wild — and potentially murderous — goose chase.

Anytime “Psych” does a sequel, it’s something of a guilty pleasure already. The cast and crew seem to step up their game as they retrace old steps and indulge in the self-congratulatory revival of old characters. It’s almost always at least pleasant, even when the sequels don’t live up to the original. In “Extradition II,” however, everything about the original “Extradition” is one-upped in terms of scale, pace, and stakes. Elwes also remains the MVP of this storyline, perfectly understanding the tone of the “Psych” world and how his villain should fit within it.

When “Psych” chose to tribute a popular film or television show, it did so in exemplary fashion. Rather than recreating moments beat for beat to scrutinize the plot of its target, the show took a broader look at the ideas and themes that made that particular film or television show worth talking about in the first place.

A light-hearted procedural like “Psych” was never going to be able to touch the moral depths through which the classic noir “Chinatown” wades — and it shouldn’t have even tried. Yet, with the season 6 episode “Santabarbaratown,” “Psych” manages to pay tribute to one of the all-time greatest detective stories in an impressively serious way. The episode sees one of Henry’s old cases at the Santa Barbara Police Department revived after the body of a missing woman is unexpectedly discovered decades after her disappearance. What follows is a story of betrayal and corruption that ends the season on a distressing cliffhanger, making for one of the series’ most audacious narrative twists overall.

Like any network procedural, the balance of quality highs and lows in “Psych” got a bit out of whack as the series continued to aimlessly drift forward. That said, the series did manage to stick the landing with a series finale that sends each character off in a satisfying way.

The mystery, though at first seemingly underwhelming, subtly serves as a thematic backdrop to the episode’s central plot. Shawn, feeling that he could free Gus to grow on his own by moving away from Santa Barbara to be with Juliet (who had departed earlier that season), decides to “break up” with his detective partner once and for all. As they work together on one last case, the episode interestingly avoids an overabundance of callbacks to previous episodes and instead uses this chance to explore whether or not Shawn and Gus are actually good for one another. It’s a surprisingly mature move for the series and one that pays off in several emotionally effective beats — Lassie’s reaction to Shawn’s goodbye video still brings a tear to our eyes.

In contrast to its last few seasons, it should be no surprise to anyone this far down the list that we consider season 3 of “Psych” to be the series’ absolute best offering to date. But far above even the likes of “Murder?… Anyone?… Anyone?… Bueller?,” “Tuesday the 17th,” and “Lassie Did a Bad, Bad Thing” is the season 3 finale — “An Evening with Mr. Yang.” The episode kicks off the multi-season Yin-Yang killer storyline, with Shawn, Gus, and the Santa Barbara Police Department fighting to uncover the identity of Mr. Yang before he (or she?) executes another of his (or her?!) twisted crimes.

We’re trying not to spoil anything here, even though the episode is over 15 years old at this point, but take our word that it boasts some of the most satisfying twists and turns in the entire series (taking some subtle cues from David Fincher’s “Zodiac”). And if that’s not enough, “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” alum Jimmi Simpson steals the entire hour as a socially awkward criminal profiler named Mary.

For better and for worse, “Psych” (with its jocular exploration of masculine gender norms) quite often falls within the bounds of the unofficial “dudes rock” comedy subgenre. As such, there’s arguably no better film for it to tackle than “The Hangover,” a peak “dudes rock” movie that, along with its sequels, defined the comedy genre at large in the late 2000s and early 2010s (y’know, back when studios would still make big-budget comedy movies).

In season 6’s “Last Night Gus,” the dudes of “Psych” — including Lassiter, Henry, and Woody the mortician (Kurt Fuller) — all wake up from a night on the town with little memory of what occurred after they left the bar. As one may have guessed, it eventually becomes urgent that they piece together whatever went down in order to solve a crime (especially given that they’re all apparently too drunk to remember their own alibis). Juvenile, snappy, and endlessly surprising, it’s a perfect “Psych” adventure that encapsulates everything great about the series.