50 Best Foreign Movies on Amazon Prime Right Now

Always follows the story of Jeong-hwa and Cheol-min, both very different individuals who are gentle in their own way. The story starts off by demonstrating how different the leads are in terms of their personality and their outlook on life. The plot can be a little predictable and cliche in some moments, but Always is not a complicated movie—though in addition to being a romance, it also includes some surprising violence that may intensify your viewing experience. Still, Always is about the two leads’ struggle against fate as they try to survive their tough situations, with strong chemistry between the lead actors from start to finish.

You’d expect a film with a premise like this to make constant parallels between its two main storylines, or to at least have them intersect more often and more significantly. But impressively, Mast Mein Rehne Ka makes the jump from chance encounter to wandering slice-of-life drama with ease—becoming a portrait of Mumbai and the isolation that various people experience due to discrimination against their class, their age, or their gender. The film’s tonal balance certainly isn’t perfect, as the more lighthearted adventures of the widower begin to clash more severely with the literal life-or-death situations faced by the young would-be thief. But consistently solid filmmaking and heartfelt performances smooth over the rougher edges and the occasional bits of dramatic excess.

Loss can be straightforwardly heartwrenching, but it could also be bewildering, cryptic, and too sudden to even process. New Religion depicts a grieving mother, whose loss of her daughter, and her meet up with an eccentric photographer, causes her to behave strangely. The film goes through the events in a surreal, existential haze, with a skin-crawling scene that reveals the photographer’s nefarious reasons, but the sequences remain inscrutable and the themes and certain characters don’t mesh as well as they could have. New Religion might befuddle viewers just looking for a casual watch, but it’s definitely a thought provoking and promising debut from Keishi Kondo.

As a story, Knuckle Girl settles for the simplest beats, at times strung together by odd, obligatory choices (for example, a training montage that comes out of nowhere, or the film’s abrupt ending). It’s not particularly sophisticated as far as thriller narratives go. But taken as a showcase for boxing-centered action, the film really sets itself apart from many countless action movies on streaming. The fist-fights here are brutal and kinetic, shot through lots of dynamic footage and crunchy sound design—making every punch that’s thrown feel desperate. And in the lead role, Ayaka Miyoshi makes for a convincing, everyman action star who always seems in over her head but perseveres all the same.

As the first original Filipino film on Prime Video, Ten Little Mistresses can often feel stuck as an entertaining pitch for a film rather than a fully fleshed out story. Like many mystery-comedies, this is a movie that relies on its star power and its big twists over any convincing narrative or thematic ideas. But oddly enough, the sooner you accept this, the easier the film goes down. As a loud and proud example of camp comedy, even its most ridiculous and incongruous elements feel like an authentic expression of Filipino humor; it never tries to pander to a Western audience that might be expecting something more familiar to their sensibilities. And with a cast this dedicated to out-chewing the scenery from each other, it’s hard not to get swept up in the insanity of it all.

Though it borrows from some of the oldest genre tropes—stoic but kind-hearted hero finding a heart in a community that needs his help—Jigen Daisuke still manages to carve out a visual identity that has one foot rooted in its Lupin III manga origins, and another in noir fiction. The world of the film is beautifully lit and feels bustling with activity, as are the frenetic action scenes that turn gleefully silly with the sheer amount of gunfire being sprayed everywhere. That said, the movie can’t handle the number of plates it tries to spin, as side characters fail to develop more meaningfully and its more exciting parts are diluted by long stretches of drama that aren’t as engaging as the film thinks they are. This feels like a sampler for the kinds of stories the title character could be involved in in the future, but little else.

There have been plenty of excellent films that tackle plenty of themes all at once, but Saindhav feels like a bunch of unrelated ideas strung together as an excuse for cool action set pieces. We’re first presented with the idea that violent video games are being used to recruit children for terrorist groups, but in response to this is a pretty violent protagonist that does over-the-top killings complete with explosions. His justification is that he’s doing it for money for his sick daughter, whose treatment is exorbitantly expensive. Both of these ideas should be discussed, and the cast tries to make the best of it, but Saindhav just combines these ideas to justify the glorified violence they’re supposedly critiquing.

With a premise that just seems inherently emotionally manipulative, it should take an especially sensitive touch to make a story like this work on screen. Unfortunately, See Hear Love—itself based on a South Korean webcomic—is both overdramatic and not nearly stylized enough in any meaningful way to help its subject matter evolve beyond melodrama. It remains a well-shot and decently acted film that, at the very least, treats its characters as adults and not as caricatures with disabilities. But the movie makes little effort to place these characters in believable situations that should shed a light on what it’s like to live with blindness or as a Deaf person. See Hear Love takes the easiest (and slowest) way out, bringing its two lovers together under somewhat creepy circumstances, and having them endure cartoonishly exploitative “antagonists”—all for the sake of portraying the romance as grand and artificially tragic.

At least you can’t accuse this holiday film of being generic. Combining the incredibly incompatible elements of drug busts and figure skating (and still failing to justify this crazy idea, though not for a lack of trying), Dealing with Christmas eventually begins to feel more like a series of comedy sketches making up the rules as it goes along. This definitely leads to moments of both excitement and effective humor, but its lack of consistency ultimately makes the awkward outweigh the good. Still, the audacity on display is something to be admired, and the film is just well-made enough to keep its constant experiments worth the curiosity.

Stories of forbidden love are captivating, because in the face of a lover, in the face of one’s opposite, one cannot help but be challenged, hopefully for the better. This is not what happened here. Out in the Dark is a film debut that takes this idea in the Middle East, with two gay lovers coming from Palestine and Israel. It’s an intriguing idea, and had it been more nuanced, Israeli director Michael Mayer would have created a daring first feature, but the film clearly comes from a limited Israeli perspective, with no Palestinians casted or working behind the scenes. While the film may be sympathetic to hypothetical LGBTQ+ people in Palestine, Out in the Dark doesn’t have the guts to question why they’ve been persecuted in the first place.