30 Best Shows Of 2023 On Amazon Prime

Created by Janine Nabers and Donald Glover (Atlanta), Swarm is a dark and bloody deep dive into fan culture. It follows Dre (Dominique Fishback), a young woman whose obsession with a Beyoncé stand-in takes a dark turn after the unexpected death of a loved one.

Artful, daring, and legitimately scary, Swarm is one of the bolder shows to come to streaming in a while. It doesn’t hold back, not with the commentary nor with the blood, which can be too much for some viewers, but if you were thrilled by films like Misery and The King of Comedy, then this mind-blowing take on celebrity mania will certainly have you hooked.

Imagine if Showtime’s survival epic Yellowjackets was a comedy, and being stranded with your high school friends resulted not only in ethical and moral dilemmas but a lot of witty banter and major bonding as well.

Then you’d have something like Class of ‘07, an apocalyptic series with the irreverent humor of many millennial shows out there. It’s every bit as funny, addictive, and deep as you’d hope it would be, with the show excellently blending bleak circumstances with quirky jokes and hopeful epiphanies—kind of like how The Good Place manages to make a breezy comedy out of death and the afterlife. In fact, Class of ’07 is reminiscent of many comedic gems, including Derry Girls in its all-girls setup and Bridesmaids in its female-forward crassness. And like both stories, Class of ’07 offers heartwarming insights into the power and perplexity of female friendship.

Be that as it may, Class of ’07 is a distinct charmer. This Aussie show is delightful, hilarious, and utterly watchable in its own right.

Deadloch begins like any other self-serious police procedural. A body washes up on shore, sparking widespread fear and a twisty mystery that eventually and intriguingly reveals layers of itself. Local officer Dulcie Collins (Kate Box) takes to it like it’s the most important case in the world, and for some reason, everything we see onscreen is tinged in gray, as if the town is set under a perpetual stormcloud. 

Then a joke finds its way into the dialogue, followed by another, and another. The show, it turns out, is as much of a sitcom as it is a mystery, with Dulcie acting as the straight man grounding us through the kookiness of it all. The rest of the characters are actual characters, wonderfully zany and larger-than-life as they bumble around and commit small-town gaffes. A hearse screeches to a halt when a random passerby yells, “You’re going the wrong way!”, and a millennial policewoman exclaims, “I can’t believe I’m on a stakeout! It’s so aggressively police-y.” 

It’s quite the risk to be both funny and serious, to dole out this many jokes while solving multiple murders, but Deadloch pulls it off with so much charm to spare. It’s a refreshing take on the buddy-cop series, ambitious and modern and unafraid to laugh at itself every once in a while.

It sounds bizarre to say that out of all the superhero media out there, it’s a cartoon that seems to have the most realistic storylines. But it’s also true. Thanks to its serial format and animation style, Invincible has more freedom to explore universal feelings like guilt and pressure, but also problems that are specific to this world, such as the moral ramifications of killing for good, for instance, or whether there is such a thing at all. Superheroes also question how human they are and what they deserve. It goes in deep, a bit like The Boys but with less irony and more humanity. Also, it’s just a very refreshing world to enter, watch, and explore. There are overlaps in heroes to be sure, but Invincible gives them their own spin, plus the 2D animation gives it a nostalgic charm.

The Killing Vote takes the “vote to kill” storyline and pairs an anonymous vigilante with an ambitious yet apathetic officer, creating an intriguing setup that questions how everyday inequalities extend to the justice system. The first episode is quite disturbing as it tackles child pornography, but with this pilot, the series is able to cement an expectation it fulfills in succeeding episodes: this is a severe show that tackles severe cases and severe criminals. Coupled with immersive performances across the board (the star-studded cast includes K-drama staples Park Hae-jin, Park Sung-woong, and Lim Ji-yeon), The Killing Vote is already off to a high-intensity start. If it keeps this up, it very well could be one of 2023’s best.

Structured more like a network procedural than a gritty streaming miniseries, the TV adaptation of The Lincoln Lawyer feels easy, even nostalgic, to watch. The formula is simple: in every episode, Mickey handles a new case (most of them wrongful convictions against people on the fringe), all while dealing with a larger, more complicated case and his inner demons. There to help is his trusty driver Izzy (Jazz Raycole), who gets him everywhere in his Lincoln Town Car, and his two ex-wives, with whom he shares a surprisingly healthy relationship. All these elements come together to make an entertaining legal drama. It’s not the most compelling thing out there, but it’s consistently enjoyable and endlessly likable.

Between HBO’s The Rehearsal and Peacock’s Paul T. Goldman, it would seem that genre-bending reality-based shows are having a moment. Among the more lighthearted and enjoyable ones out there is Jury Duty, which follows a trial involving improvisational actors, save for one: Ronald Gladden, a friendly everyman who has yet to realize that everything around him, from the inane case to his oddball co-jurors, is fake. Every now and then though, thanks to the sheer ridiculousness of it all, Ronald looks like he’s at the cusp of figuring it out, but the guy (bless his soul) is just too damn nice to get there. 

And that’s what makes Jury Duty so watchable. It finds a heart in the ever-hopeful Ronald who, as the appointed foreman, goes out of his way to help his fellow jurors. Whether that means reading a script with James Marsden (who plays a hilariously narcissistic version of himself here), building up nerdy genius Todd’s confidence, or even just encouraging ol’ Barbara to stay awake, he’s there every step of the way. More than just laugh at Ronald’s ignorance, we’re also asked to look at his capacity for caring for people, which makes Jury Duty not just funny and experimental, but unexpectedly endearing as well. If you’re looking for a show that’s both easy and eccentric, familiar and new, then you should put this on.

Sometimes the ability to create good drama (and comedy!) just depends on one’s attentiveness to how the world works and how people would reasonably react to it. And this new Telugu-language series illustrates this perceptiveness and empathy to great effect. Kumari Srimathi tells a story free of unnecessary gimmicks and stylization, but still manages to make clashing cultural values and the struggle to make money compelling just through an attention to detail.

Right off the bat, there’s so much that drives Siri, our title character: her love for her late grandfather, her frustration with her conservative but well-meaning family, and her outrage at all the assumptions people make about her as a single woman. All of this is channeled into her impulsive gamble to save their old ancestral home. But Siri, played by a tough and incredibly sympathetic Nithya Menen, isn’t the only star of the show. Many times these family dramas are content with assigning stereotypes to secondary characters. And this show also admittedly does this, but there are significantly more of them who feel just as real as the protagonist—all attempting to negotiate for the things that matter most to them, all coming from an earnest place.

This satire takes place in the year 2033 when it’s possible to “upload” oneself to a specific software-powered afterlife. In the variety of afterlives possible, there is no heaven or hell. Instead, class struggles persist: ads are everywhere, you have to pay for data, and there are many levels of luxury available.

Created by Greg Daniels (The Office, Parks and Recreation), Upload is an easy and funny show with an interesting and relevant premise. If you liked The Good Place, Silicon Valley, or Black Mirror, you will surely love this.

Daisy Jones & The Six is riddled with rock and roll clichés—sex, drugs, and alcohol abound—but the series has enough strengths to save it from sheer banality, the most prominent of which is the music. The original songs, performed by the actors themselves, are genuinely good. They’re true to the times and recall the likes of Fleetwood Mac and Buffalo Springfield, but they also sound fresh, modern, and invigorating. The showrunners seem to know this since each performance, whether onstage or in-studio, is given ample focus in each episode, and the show is all the better for it.

Aside from the stellar music, the show also has chemistry and production quality going for it. Riley Keough and Sam Claflin as the Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham of the fictional band are fiery and magnetic, while the authentic setting feels like an old polaroid come to life. 

Daisy Jones & The Six might not be for everyone, but if you enjoy musical dramas and nostalgia trips, then the show is a sure banger.