10 Best Foreign Shows on Prime Video Right Now

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.

For the longest time, religious cults have been an untouchable subject in Korean dramas, especially with some of the crimes that occurred that still remain controversies to this day. Because of this, Save Me is quite a surprise, as it depicts the journey of a girl who moves to town being sucked into and trying to escape a religious cult. It’s an eerie thriller, but it’s one that starts by alternating between the time Im Sang-mi moved to town and the present time from the boys’ perspective, so this and the slow pacing might make it hard for people new to K-dramas to watch. However, the performances are excellent, with both acting veterans and newcomers shining in the moments that they’re given. While the ending was rushed, and they could have gone darker and deeper into the cult, Save Me was a decent attempt at depicting this controversial issue.

A delightful blend of romance, humor, and intrigue (as expected of many historical K-Dramas), this series takes us on a whimsical journey as Crown Prince Lee Yul, suffering from amnesia, is convinced to wed the headstrong Hong Sim due to his own decree. The drama plays into the comedic potential of his lost memory as he maintains his air of nobility—rendering him useless at daily chores and acts of labour to everyone’s dismay. As the effects of political secrets and conspiracies affect the poor of the kingdom, Yul begins to use his intelligence, martial arts skills, and literacy to help people learn and protect themselves. Doh Kyung-soo and Nam Ji-Hyun beautifully perform a fun enemies-to-lovers dynamic of a foolish prince and a justice-oriented woman. 100 Days My Prince delivers ornate kingdoms, cherry blossom-filled sets, and secret coups, all in a comfortable watch.

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.

It’s refreshing to watch stories about queer people in the Global South unfold with this much joy and love and excitement. Many films and TV shows will have you believe that it’s all tragedy, and while the queer experience is certainly without its struggles, it seems unfair to hyperfocus on that aspect alone when there’s a lot of tenderness to go around. Rainbow Rishta finds the perfect balance between realism and romance, between strife and pride, in delivering the stories of its subjects. In doing so, it deepens our understanding of the global LGBTQ community. 

Abuse can manifest itself in subtle ways that can be hard to recognize, especially when you’re used to the behavior. Marry My Husband takes the familiar downtrodden female lead we’ve seen in K-dramas, but gives her a do-over, another chance to escape her abuse not just by romance, but by recontextualizing the Cinderella-esque hardships and allowing her, and us, to recognize abuse for what it is. The show is able to navigate all this without letting go of its breezy approach, and it’s just so satisfying to see Ji-won actively and successfully achieve her revenge.

There’s not a lot of good sumo representation out there. The ancient Japanese sport is often caricatured for laughs; in fact, it has a rich and complex history spanning centuries. It’s cultural but questionably brutal, revered but unable to compete against newer combat sports. And while sumo negotiates its role in an increasingly modern world, its participants continue to rely on it for a living, making it at once outdated and necessary.  

Enter Sanctuary, a Japanese Netflix original that captures all this nuance to the best of its ability. The drama is a gritty and realistic behind-the-scenes look at the sport, a raw portrait of all the literal blood, sweat, and tears that go into it. If you can stomach a fair amount of violence and gore, then you’ll appreciate what Sanctuary tries to do, which is smartly reintroduce sumo to a new generation.

When life gets tough, especially without money or opportunities, it can be hard to cling onto life. There’s the real temptation to end it all, but what if Death is tired of this last resort? Death’s Game reimagines life after Choi’s suicide as a video game, whose limited lives function like reincarnation into different save points, and whose game over means eternal damnation in hell. With such an interesting premise from the popular webtoon, some of the best actors in Korea, and no way of being able to predict what would happen in Choi’s multiple, varied lives, Death’s Game reinvents plenty of today’s K-Drama tropes while possibly reconceptualizing how we feel about life and death… if it’s able to stick the landing when the second half drops this January.

Art Deco, opium dealings, and cutting off tongues… China then is different from China now, but that short period of time before World War II still fascinates people with how different the country could have been. Tencent Picture took advantage of that fascination through their microdrama Provoke, mixing in a revenge plot that comes straight from the film noir popular at the time. Of course, there’s only so much plot points one can fit into less than 15-minute episodes, and because of this, the camera lingers a bit too long on the cast’s gorgeous faces in order to stretch out the story for 25 episodes. That being said, the whole production is so stunning to watch that fans of the genre might be willing to forgive that the story is spread too thin. Provoke might have been more cohesive as a movie, but it’s intriguing enough to binge as is after the end of a long work day.

Red Queen is well-shot, well-produced, and extremely well-cast, so it’s hard to pinpoint why it feels mediocre at first. But once you get past the sheen of its budget and the warm glow cast by its two likable leads, the titular red queen Antonia (Vicky Luengo) and her sidekick Jon (Hovik Keuchkerian), it becomes apparent how hollow the foundations are. Antonia is hailed as a singular genius who, much like Sherlock and his many copycats, needs only to scan a room to know the depths of a person. She also enters a version of Sherlock’s “mind palace,” an accurate and artful reenactment of the crime. But the answers she arrives at, though correct, feel simplistic and pedestrian. They’re hardly cerebral, nor do they require special knowledge: it all just sounds like something a good detective should know. Jon is a more realistic rendering of a cop, but it is strange how he is defined only by his weight and sexuality. At least in the first few episodes, these traits are merely used as the punchline to their jokes. The trimmings are not too impressive either; the secret organization they’re part of, the serial killer’s motives, and Antonia’s traumatic past are intriguing, but all too familiar in this saturated genre.