Apple TV+ Suggestions - Highly-Rated Movies & Shows on Apple TV+
In what is only his second feature, Greek director Christos Nikou crafts a singular universe that is orderly and enticing. The dystopian premise that you can now scientifically test for love may be bizarre, but it answers to one of the biggest anxieties humans share. That said, this particular world feels so close to ours today, that you want to dive right in it, weirdness and all. Even the topos of the love clinic, where couples get evaluated and take on exercises before they take the test is framed as a space for hope. There’s no underlying cynicism in Nikou’s film, which is perhaps the most surprising fact about it; on the contrary, longing—however painful it may be—abounds and seeps through the carefully composed images of shared doubt and suspect intimacy. Last, but not least, the chemistry shared by Buckley-Ahmed-White is nothing short of explosive.
Dickinson takes more than a few creative liberties in telling the story of one of America’s greatest poets, Emily Dickinson (played here by the effervescent Hailee Steinfeld). As soon as the first pop song blasts in the background, followed by more than a few expletives blurted by the characters, it becomes clear that the series is more interested in making Emily’s life story not just understandable to a new generation, but timeless and universal too; it’s a tale about freeing oneself from the constraints of gender and society, and how regardless of whether you succeed or not, it’s the attempts that keep us human.
The series is funny and tender and vivacious, kept afloat by its modern sensibility and desire to showcase a whole new side of Emily. Here, she’s a fighter, a (queer) lover, and an intellectual. But she’s also spoiled, narrowminded, and selfish—she is after all, still a growing girl. Dickinson succeeds on two counts: as an enlightening biopic, artistic license notwithstanding, and as an energizing coming-of-age series, complete with awkward epiphanies and inspiring character developments.
Based on Epic magazine’s column of the same name, Little America is an anthology series based on real-life immigrant stories. The episodes vary in plot, topic, and even era—they’re as diverse as the characters themselves—but they are all connected by one thing: the hope of achieving the American Dream. In one episode, an Iranian father sets out to build his family’s dream home in a bid to prevent his son from moving out. In another, a second-generation Korean-American struggles to find his calling, much to the dismay of his war-survivor parents (“What do you know about suffering?” the mother, played by Parasite’s Lee Jung-eun asks when her son complains about med school).
Co-created by Lee Eisenberg, Kumail Nanjiani, and Emily Gordon (The Big Sick) and directed by Sian Heder (CODA), Little America is a heartwarming collection of stories, as moving as it is urgent. It’s easy to miss this over splashier shows on TV, but trust that this one’s worth tuning into.
Trying is a realistic but charming take on couples venturing to build a life and stable future for themselves. Heavy themes are tackled here, like infertility, infidelity, and parenthood, but the immensely likable couple that is Nikki and Jase guide us through the murky ups and downs of them all. Their heart and humor aren’t just comforting to watch, they’re also inspiring in a TV age obsessed with heavy dramatics. Like Ted Lasso, Abbott Elementary, and other well-meaning shows like it, Trying is a bit of lighthearted fare that we’d do well to indulge in every now and then.
In Shrinking, Jason Segel plays Jimmy Laird a newly-widowed therapist who’s trying to make amends with his loved ones after isolating himself for so long. It sounds depressing, but Shrinking has the delightful buoyancy of a show like Ted Lasso (which makes sense given that they’re created and directed by the same person) and even Trying, that other Apple TV+ show that masterfully balances seriousness and silliness. Like them, Shrinking is warm and affecting, but it has one undeniable advantage: Harrison Ford. Ford plays Segel’s boss, and if you aren’t onboard yet, Shrinking is definitive proof that Harrison is actually, objectively hilarious.
There is an art to making a comedy that can be enjoyed by all ages—a balance must be kept between mature and genial humor, serious and unserious matters—and it’s an art that Acapulco manages to execute with finesse. There’s something for everyone here, whether you’re a kid looking for a good story or an adult wishing to drive by memory lane.
The colors are vibrant, the characters are alive, and the plot, while familiar, is charming nonetheless. But perhaps the best thing about Acapulco is its call for viewers to be kind. It’s never explicit or preachy about it; it just comes naturally, by way of practice.
Murderbot takes time finding its pace—the first three episodes are bogged down by heavy narration, which isn’t always helped by Skarsgård’s deadpan delivery. But once it settles into its groove, the show turns into a delightful smorgasbord of different genres. It’s sci-fi, sure, but it’s also a workplace comedy, a thriller, and perhaps indirectly, a heartwarming tribute to how outcasts can find comfort in communities and found families. Don’t be fooled by Murderbot’s name: this is a sweet show, one where an anti-human killer robot (who presumably stands in for the pessimists among us) is eventually endeared to a group of quirky, lovable, and frequently funny humans.
In a TV age where dark comedies and slick satires are all the rage, The Completely Made-Up Adventures of Dick Turpin is refreshingly light, good-hearted fun. Its humor leans on the surreal, silly, and slapstick, but it doesn’t necessarily sacrifice smarts for a laugh. Here, the legendary robber is reimagined as a reluctant criminal who is more interested in knitting and doing his friends good, a rather sweet fool who unwittingly stands at the opposite end of toxic masculinity. There are jokes about equal pay and light commentaries on class inequality (Turpin and his so-called Essex Gang want to only rob the inordinately wealthy), and you’d think it was all too much, but the show achieves a confident, balanced tone that’s hard to question.
By now, it’s pretty clear that Apple TV+ follows a less-is-more philosophy when it comes to content. Sure, it doesn’t release a million new titles in a year like Netflix or Prime, but the few originals that it does put out are almost always good (and occasionally great), backed by an astounding budget and ambitious vision. Sunny is the latest addition to that category. The multi-genre show is a deceptively simple robo-buddy comedy that is engaging through and through. Yes, it’s futuristic—and fantastic in that regard—but it’s also funny, heartwarming, thrilling, and tragic. And it juggles all these effortlessly so that the other aspects of the show, such as the artful blend of tradition and tech, can shine through.
It’s one of the oldest problems in the history of mankind: can men and women be friends? Romantic comedies, since their inception, have tried to answer this question in various quirky ways, and almost always, the answer is a resounding no. The two leads must end up together because the chemistry is too strong, and besides, love can only end in romance. Right? Platonic is one of a handful of shows that knows there’s no straightforward answer to that question. It’s thoughtful and nuanced as it subverts rom-com expectations and refuses to rush into a template happy ending. Even more impressive is the fact that it gives us a hefty dose of reality while still being light-hearted, funny, and charming. Whether that’s thanks to the easy chemistry between Sylvia and Will (played by longtime collaborators Rose Bryne and Seth Rogen) or to the refreshing experience of having a familiar dilemma be treated with newfound profundity, there’s no doubt that Platonic puts a fresh new spin on the genre.
Stick is Apple TV+’s blatant attempt to follow up on Ted Lasso’s success. Like it, Stick is a sports dramedy that follows a washed-up, middle-aged, well-meaning man in pursuit of collective greatness. But despite their obvious similarities, Stick finds its footing and quickly becomes its own funny, moving, and irresistibly charming thing. This has a lot to do with the core characters, a group of people who can’t be any more different, and yet who connect in meaningful ways as they spend time on the road and on the course. Their chemistry and character arcs more than make up for the lack of an original story. The entire ensemble cast is great, but it’s the adults of the group—Wilson, Marc Maron, and Mariana Treviño—who give the show depth as they explore loss and grief in relatable ways. Stick sometimes feels too optimistic, but never too weepy.
As classic children’s TV done in the same style as The Muppets, this reboot of Jim Henson’s Fraggle Rock manages to thread together wacky adventures, an environmental message, lots of music, and light satire about human behavior in less-than-30-minute chunks. This show is firmly for kids first, with the carefree, somewhat naive subterranean Fraggles meant to be childlike in nature as they learn how to accept others’ differences and their own complicated feelings through kindness and community. But parents who are at all interested in colorful variety shows should still find lots to enjoy, be it in the intricate craft of puppetry across various species of creatures, or in the genuinely catchy songs that range from innocent earworms to beautifully composed anthems straight out of the musical theater tradition.
There are only 20 seats in Formula 1 each year, meaning that drivers are not only racing to win but to be kept on the roster. With the big stars, Ferrari and Mercedes, habitually shrouded in secrecy, Formula 1: Drive to Survive focuses more on the back of the grid. Lewis Hamilton, the five-time world champion, is rarely seen, for example, giving more room for other stories to unfold, including that of Günther Steiner, the Italian team principal of the Haas Formula One Team. That is not to say there are no big reveals. Even if you think Formula 1 is a decadent, testosterone-driven sports for rich Europeans, Drive to Survive might be welcome crash course into what makes this sport so appealing for many and might also have the potential to change your mind. If not, it is still a very well-made, slick, and engaging docuseries that will have enthusiasts and newcomers thoroughly entertained.
The show’s premise is plain, but it’s also endlessly, edge-of-your-seat gripping. It’s steady and unhurried but never boring, and each episode, which represents an hour on the seven-hour flight, gives you a sliver of hope for the passengers, especially since they have pro-negotiator Sam Nelson (Idris Elba) on their side. Or do they? The show has fun playing with Sam as the anti-hero, but his heart is too big and golden to achieve that complexity. It also doesn’t bother to paint the hijackers as anything other than terrorists (at least not in the first few episodes screened for review). Instead, the show narrowly chases that mid-flight suspense, and it works. It successfully builds up to it with small but revealing moments.
At the back of all the hubbub, there is also a running joke about what happens when you get stuck with the worst people you know. The passengers are characters you may be familiar with—the family with loud babies, the nosy seatmate forcing a chat, the lowkey racist eyeing everyone who doesn’t look like him—and it gets doubly entertaining to see them collaborate when they otherwise won’t.
Trying is a realistic but charming take on couples venturing to build a life and stable future for themselves. Heavy themes are tackled here, like infertility, infidelity, and parenthood, but the immensely likable couple that is Nikki and Jase guide us through the murky ups and downs of them all. Their heart and humor aren’t just comforting to watch, they’re also inspiring in a TV age obsessed with heavy dramatics. Like Ted Lasso, Abbott Elementary, and other well-meaning shows like it, Trying is a bit of lighthearted fare that we’d do well to indulge in every now and then.
What if the 1960s space race never ended? For All Mankind imagines such a world; here, Russia’s cosmonauts arrive on the moon first, the galaxy holds resources beyond belief, and global wars have expanded in stakes and scale. More than just the final frontier, outer space is now the focal point of warring nations hungry to capitalize and claim new assets.
For All Mankind’s out-of-this-world premise alone make it a thrilling watch, but you’ll be glad to know that the show also feels intimate and affecting thanks to its fully fleshed-out characters. If you’re looking for an epic but grounded story to lose yourself in, this is it.
It’s always fascinating to see how the ultra-rich live, but it’s even more fun to see them ruin themselves with greed. That’s what happens in Your Friends and Neighbors when Coop (Hamm) loses his main source of income and decides to rob his wealthy friends and neighbors. He starts slow as to remain inconspicuous: luxury watches they barely wear, paintings they pass by every day. Disposable for them, but worth a living to the increasingly broke Coop. But soon, petty thievery gives way to something more dangerous and compromising, endangering not just Coop’s status but his life. It’s a smart, entertaining show, given much heft by Jon Hamm. It’s nice to see him donning a similar character to the iconic one he gave life to in Mad Men. Here, again, he injects pathos in what would otherwise seem like a typical rich sad sack. Hamm turns Coop into someone complicated, sympathetic even, as he hides his emotional implosion behind a sleek suit. Though its class commentary is not as sharp as it should be, Your Friends and Neighbors is nonetheless a worthwhile watch—if only to see Hamm back in his element.
With the various police procedurals available online, it can feel like an oversaturated genre, at best. At worst, with the struggles the world has to do with regards to the justice system, police procedurals can glorify the institution. Criminal Record examines this, but it doesn’t give the easy answers other shows have when discussing the systemic failure of the police, especially when it comes to race, age, and sex. Peter Capaldi stands in as the old guard, though his skin-crawling presence keeps Dan Hegarty’s real intentions an enigma until the very end. However, it’s Cush Jumbo as the empathetic June Lenker that drives the show, with her persistence meeting Hegarty’s every move, and her frustrations mirroring the real rage the world feels with regards to past injustices. The way the two clash creates a novel rookie-veteran dynamic that makes Criminal Record so striking.
In the multilingual Drops of God, French author Camille and Japanese sommelier Issei battle for a wine expert’s multi-billion-dollar inheritance. Camille may be the expert’s daughter, gifted with an incredible sense of smell and taste, but Issei is the so-called “spiritual son,” the protégé who filled in Camille’s shoes upon her abrupt departure from her father’s life. Whoever wins a series of wine-related tests gets to keep the expert’s estate and continue his legacy.
Based on the Japanese manga of the same, Drops of God is strangely but enjoyably competitive as it plunges you deep into the complex world of wine—through intense competitions, we get a closer look at the drink’s many layers, long history, and even its cultural connotations. This nice blend of knowledge and rivalry makes it a thrilling watch, but the show also has an unexpected but welcome family element to it that softens the edge a bit and gives it a sweet aftertaste. If you were ever looking for a smart but heartfelt show about wining and dining, this is it.
In Shrinking, Jason Segel plays Jimmy Laird a newly-widowed therapist who’s trying to make amends with his loved ones after isolating himself for so long. It sounds depressing, but Shrinking has the delightful buoyancy of a show like Ted Lasso (which makes sense given that they’re created and directed by the same person) and even Trying, that other Apple TV+ show that masterfully balances seriousness and silliness. Like them, Shrinking is warm and affecting, but it has one undeniable advantage: Harrison Ford. Ford plays Segel’s boss, and if you aren’t onboard yet, Shrinking is definitive proof that Harrison is actually, objectively hilarious.
The first thing that hits you about Sugar is its style: this is a show tailor-made for fans of a bygone Hollywood era, an era dominated by film noir and dapper leading men like Humphrey Bogart, whom Sugar emulates throughout the series. The show inserts clips from old films and, even better, echoes their style through tasteful jumpcuts and fisheye lenses. It’s dripping with panache, and Farrell is undeniably cool as he narrates his investigation and inner demons. That said, Sugar is also a show that’s more style than substance. If you strip it off its snazzy clothes, you’re left with the barest bones of a mystery that is simply too cliched to stand on its own. If you’re looking to dive into a heady mystery with surprising twists and thrills, you’re better off watching something else. However, if you’re a true blue fan of vintage noir, the kind who still puts TCM on religiously and swears nothing new can compare to the old, then this is your show.
Because of the format, Margo’s Got Money Troubles doesn’t quite have the same laugh-out-loud humor as the original novel– televised series, after all, can’t run entirely on the sharp internal monologue that worked on the page. However, that doesn’t mean it should be written off entirely. It’s still pretty funny, but the series mostly shifts its focus on empathizing with Margo and the choices she’s pushed to make. Like her journey, the show takes a while to set things up, though once it does, her impulsive choice easily rolls into a series of plot-worthy consequences. Some of which are financially difficult, as hinted by the title. Sometimes, as in the case with her dad, it’s easy to see how the ensemble can grow and change, maybe even into something better. It helps that the main trio– Elle Fanning, Nick Offerman, and Michelle Pfeiffer– are absolutely charming as the center family.
There are two timelines in Monarch, one set in a post-war world where trio Bill (Anders Holm), Shaw (Wyatt Russell), and Keiko (Mari Yamamoto) look for monsters, and another set in 2015, where trio Cate, Kentaro (Ren Watabe), and May (Kiersey Clemons) look for Cate and Kentaro’s missing father. Both timelines are action-packed and mystery-filled, eventually intertwining in a surprising but thrilling way. But for all that’s happening, Monarch is weirdly missing the monsters. Godzilla, along with other creatures old and new, rarely appear, though when they do, they make sure to put on a spectacle you can’t look away from. The show could use a lot more of these monsters, though there’s much to like in the human cast too—especially in Shaw, whose present self is played by Russell’s father, the iconic Kurt Russell. The decision to cast them in this role is more than inspired, it’s downright entertaining. Not only do they look alike, but they have the same mannerisms and charismatic flairs, though both actors make sure to inflect the character with their own specific charms. Seeing their interpretation of Shaw is reason enough to watch this series, but everything else is pretty epic too.
Given its explicitly female-centered premise, you’d think Women in Blue would do a better job at exploring gender dynamics in the workforce and bucking societal expectations in general. But it bafflingly doesn’t. The lead characters are underwritten and their problems are draped with a telenovela flair that distracts, at times, from the gravity of the situation. The core mystery that drives the entire series feels similarly underbaked, even though it is based on true events. But that said, Women in Blue has its moments. The show shines the most when it gives its female leads enough space and time to actually grapple with their reality and the realizations they’ve made since joining the force. I also wished it had them work on different cases, not just the one, but maybe that’s something another season could address.
For those familiar with the original book series, you’ll already know what kind of show to expect. The Apple+ cartoon is centered on the two titular amphibians going through universal adventures that makes or breaks your day. From finding the willpower to resist eating delicious cookies, to hoping a friend would contact you when you’re lonely, each episode keeps a gentle sort of humor, poking lighthearted fun at the differences between the emotional Toad and more sensible Frog. With each episode’s twenty minute runtime, and two adventures per episode, Frog and Toad is a sweet, nostalgic series that’s easy to breeze through for millennial parents and their kids.
Trying is a realistic but charming take on couples venturing to build a life and stable future for themselves. Heavy themes are tackled here, like infertility, infidelity, and parenthood, but the immensely likable couple that is Nikki and Jase guide us through the murky ups and downs of them all. Their heart and humor aren’t just comforting to watch, they’re also inspiring in a TV age obsessed with heavy dramatics. Like Ted Lasso, Abbott Elementary, and other well-meaning shows like it, Trying is a bit of lighthearted fare that we’d do well to indulge in every now and then.
Led by Brian Tyree Henry (Atlanta, The Fire Inside, Bullet Train), Dope Thief is a thrilling if uneven crime comedy following two grifters (the other played by Wagner Moura) who get into deep trouble after a fake drug bust goes wrong. With cartel men and the feds chasing them, Henry and Moura’s characters must find a way to protect themselves and their loved ones, all while they process some unresolved grief and trauma. Moura is reliably great, but Henry juggles plenty of hats here—he is the emotional core, as well as often the funniest guy in the room. It gets uneven midway, but nothing some impressive and enjoyable performances can’t fix.
In Shrinking, Jason Segel plays Jimmy Laird a newly-widowed therapist who’s trying to make amends with his loved ones after isolating himself for so long. It sounds depressing, but Shrinking has the delightful buoyancy of a show like Ted Lasso (which makes sense given that they’re created and directed by the same person) and even Trying, that other Apple TV+ show that masterfully balances seriousness and silliness. Like them, Shrinking is warm and affecting, but it has one undeniable advantage: Harrison Ford. Ford plays Segel’s boss, and if you aren’t onboard yet, Shrinking is definitive proof that Harrison is actually, objectively hilarious.
There is an art to making a comedy that can be enjoyed by all ages—a balance must be kept between mature and genial humor, serious and unserious matters—and it’s an art that Acapulco manages to execute with finesse. There’s something for everyone here, whether you’re a kid looking for a good story or an adult wishing to drive by memory lane.
The colors are vibrant, the characters are alive, and the plot, while familiar, is charming nonetheless. But perhaps the best thing about Acapulco is its call for viewers to be kind. It’s never explicit or preachy about it; it just comes naturally, by way of practice.
Murderbot takes time finding its pace—the first three episodes are bogged down by heavy narration, which isn’t always helped by Skarsgård’s deadpan delivery. But once it settles into its groove, the show turns into a delightful smorgasbord of different genres. It’s sci-fi, sure, but it’s also a workplace comedy, a thriller, and perhaps indirectly, a heartwarming tribute to how outcasts can find comfort in communities and found families. Don’t be fooled by Murderbot’s name: this is a sweet show, one where an anti-human killer robot (who presumably stands in for the pessimists among us) is eventually endeared to a group of quirky, lovable, and frequently funny humans.
In a TV age where dark comedies and slick satires are all the rage, The Completely Made-Up Adventures of Dick Turpin is refreshingly light, good-hearted fun. Its humor leans on the surreal, silly, and slapstick, but it doesn’t necessarily sacrifice smarts for a laugh. Here, the legendary robber is reimagined as a reluctant criminal who is more interested in knitting and doing his friends good, a rather sweet fool who unwittingly stands at the opposite end of toxic masculinity. There are jokes about equal pay and light commentaries on class inequality (Turpin and his so-called Essex Gang want to only rob the inordinately wealthy), and you’d think it was all too much, but the show achieves a confident, balanced tone that’s hard to question.
It’s one of the oldest problems in the history of mankind: can men and women be friends? Romantic comedies, since their inception, have tried to answer this question in various quirky ways, and almost always, the answer is a resounding no. The two leads must end up together because the chemistry is too strong, and besides, love can only end in romance. Right? Platonic is one of a handful of shows that knows there’s no straightforward answer to that question. It’s thoughtful and nuanced as it subverts rom-com expectations and refuses to rush into a template happy ending. Even more impressive is the fact that it gives us a hefty dose of reality while still being light-hearted, funny, and charming. Whether that’s thanks to the easy chemistry between Sylvia and Will (played by longtime collaborators Rose Bryne and Seth Rogen) or to the refreshing experience of having a familiar dilemma be treated with newfound profundity, there’s no doubt that Platonic puts a fresh new spin on the genre.
Directed by Morgan Neville (20 Feet From Stardom, Won’t You Be My Neighbor), Steve! is an appropriately fun and artistic documentary capturing its subject matter’s fun and artistic spirit. It’s a delight to see Martin’s other personas, such as his early magician self, his philosophy major self, and his quietly humorous cartoonist self. We’re so used to seeing his fast-paced zaniness that these parts of the documentary are almost shocking to see. But maybe the most illuminating role Martin plays is that of his current self. In equal measure, he cracks jokes and offers wise words about aging which, at 75, he takes in enviously great stride.
Mythic Quest is a workplace sitcom following the fictional video game studio Mythic Quest HQ. Created by the people behind It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, the series is equal parts sentimental and funny, and with each episode running at more or less 30 minutes, it’s also a breeze to watch. This isn’t to say that Mythic Quest doesn’t have substance; on the contrary, one of its many strengths is its ability to parody the gaming industry. The show is laced with the kind of sharp wit that’s found in the smartest of satires.
Gaming enthusiasts will surely find an instant liking to the series, but even those who aren’t familiar with the technicals won’t have any trouble connecting to the show’s sweet center.
Primarily, Cha Cha Real Smooth follows Andrew (Cooper Raiff) as he figures out what to do with his life post-college. But peripherally, it’s also about love, friendship, coming of age, and parenthood. Sometimes the movie wobbles under the weight of all it wants to be and you start to wonder whether it would benefit from a leaner script and a tighter focus.
But ultimately, Cha Cha Real Smooth is endearing and a breeze to watch. Andrew is relatable as a know-it-all who doesn’t actually know it all, and Domino (Dakota Johnson) is moving as a young mother consumed by both her envy and love for Andrew. Despite its occasional unevenness, the film’s big emotional heart triumphs, and sometimes that’s the best that you can hope for in a story about one’s 20s.
Because of the format, Margo’s Got Money Troubles doesn’t quite have the same laugh-out-loud humor as the original novel– televised series, after all, can’t run entirely on the sharp internal monologue that worked on the page. However, that doesn’t mean it should be written off entirely. It’s still pretty funny, but the series mostly shifts its focus on empathizing with Margo and the choices she’s pushed to make. Like her journey, the show takes a while to set things up, though once it does, her impulsive choice easily rolls into a series of plot-worthy consequences. Some of which are financially difficult, as hinted by the title. Sometimes, as in the case with her dad, it’s easy to see how the ensemble can grow and change, maybe even into something better. It helps that the main trio– Elle Fanning, Nick Offerman, and Michelle Pfeiffer– are absolutely charming as the center family.
No highly-rated titles found for this combination.
In what is only his second feature, Greek director Christos Nikou crafts a singular universe that is orderly and enticing. The dystopian premise that you can now scientifically test for love may be bizarre, but it answers to one of the biggest anxieties humans share. That said, this particular world feels so close to ours today, that you want to dive right in it, weirdness and all. Even the topos of the love clinic, where couples get evaluated and take on exercises before they take the test is framed as a space for hope. There’s no underlying cynicism in Nikou’s film, which is perhaps the most surprising fact about it; on the contrary, longing—however painful it may be—abounds and seeps through the carefully composed images of shared doubt and suspect intimacy. Last, but not least, the chemistry shared by Buckley-Ahmed-White is nothing short of explosive.
In the multilingual Drops of God, French author Camille and Japanese sommelier Issei battle for a wine expert’s multi-billion-dollar inheritance. Camille may be the expert’s daughter, gifted with an incredible sense of smell and taste, but Issei is the so-called “spiritual son,” the protégé who filled in Camille’s shoes upon her abrupt departure from her father’s life. Whoever wins a series of wine-related tests gets to keep the expert’s estate and continue his legacy.
Based on the Japanese manga of the same, Drops of God is strangely but enjoyably competitive as it plunges you deep into the complex world of wine—through intense competitions, we get a closer look at the drink’s many layers, long history, and even its cultural connotations. This nice blend of knowledge and rivalry makes it a thrilling watch, but the show also has an unexpected but welcome family element to it that softens the edge a bit and gives it a sweet aftertaste. If you were ever looking for a smart but heartfelt show about wining and dining, this is it.
With the successful release of Manhunt and Masters of the Air in the last couple of months, it looks like Franklin is set to be Apple TV+’s first miss in the historical drama department. Though the lead is based on a Founding Father and played by a revered actor, the series lacks the spark that elevates mere history lessons into riveting stories. Douglas seems bored, the script feels lackluster, and the pace is way too slow to compete with other more compelling period dramas. It’s a baffling miss, considering Douglas has in the past dazzled as Liberace, and director Tim Van Patten has similarly won acclaim for a string of HBO shows. But maybe it’s a sign of a burgeoning glut. Given Franklin’s rushed feel, perhaps Apple TV+ should take it slow and go back to its quality over quantity philosophy.
In what is only his second feature, Greek director Christos Nikou crafts a singular universe that is orderly and enticing. The dystopian premise that you can now scientifically test for love may be bizarre, but it answers to one of the biggest anxieties humans share. That said, this particular world feels so close to ours today, that you want to dive right in it, weirdness and all. Even the topos of the love clinic, where couples get evaluated and take on exercises before they take the test is framed as a space for hope. There’s no underlying cynicism in Nikou’s film, which is perhaps the most surprising fact about it; on the contrary, longing—however painful it may be—abounds and seeps through the carefully composed images of shared doubt and suspect intimacy. Last, but not least, the chemistry shared by Buckley-Ahmed-White is nothing short of explosive.
It’s hard not to be swept away by the epicness of Masters of the Air. Produced by Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks, with the first four episodes directed by Cary Joji Fukunaga (No Time to Die, True Detective), it’s made sure to flex its massive $250-million budget. Everything is accounted for here, from the sweeping and historically accurate production design to the stacked cast of rising male stars (Oscar nominees Austin Butler and Barry Keoghan easily steal the show). Even the rousing score and sound design, while bordering on melodrama at times, build up tension and add a premium air to it. It’s a visual and sonic feast bolstered by upstanding performances and an endearing show of brotherhood. Whenever it risks being propagandistic or misguidedly patriotic, it’s the believable relationship between the boys and their grave understanding of war that ground it and give it heart. And of course, the air combats are edge-of-your-seat thrilling. Like Band of Brothers and The Pacific before it, it’s a visceral entry in the genre of World War II must-sees.
Dickinson takes more than a few creative liberties in telling the story of one of America’s greatest poets, Emily Dickinson (played here by the effervescent Hailee Steinfeld). As soon as the first pop song blasts in the background, followed by more than a few expletives blurted by the characters, it becomes clear that the series is more interested in making Emily’s life story not just understandable to a new generation, but timeless and universal too; it’s a tale about freeing oneself from the constraints of gender and society, and how regardless of whether you succeed or not, it’s the attempts that keep us human.
The series is funny and tender and vivacious, kept afloat by its modern sensibility and desire to showcase a whole new side of Emily. Here, she’s a fighter, a (queer) lover, and an intellectual. But she’s also spoiled, narrowminded, and selfish—she is after all, still a growing girl. Dickinson succeeds on two counts: as an enlightening biopic, artistic license notwithstanding, and as an energizing coming-of-age series, complete with awkward epiphanies and inspiring character developments.
There are only 20 seats in Formula 1 each year, meaning that drivers are not only racing to win but to be kept on the roster. With the big stars, Ferrari and Mercedes, habitually shrouded in secrecy, Formula 1: Drive to Survive focuses more on the back of the grid. Lewis Hamilton, the five-time world champion, is rarely seen, for example, giving more room for other stories to unfold, including that of Günther Steiner, the Italian team principal of the Haas Formula One Team. That is not to say there are no big reveals. Even if you think Formula 1 is a decadent, testosterone-driven sports for rich Europeans, Drive to Survive might be welcome crash course into what makes this sport so appealing for many and might also have the potential to change your mind. If not, it is still a very well-made, slick, and engaging docuseries that will have enthusiasts and newcomers thoroughly entertained.
Co-created and starring Jason Momoa, Chief of War is a historical drama depicting the events that led to the unification of Hawaii. The series is rooted in the perspective of the indigenous people, not the eventual colonizers, which is rare in shows like this. Even FX’s Shogun, which tells a similar story set in 17th-century Japan, has a foreigner as the audience’s avatar. Chief of War, on the other hand, is committed to introducing the islanders in the context of their lived experience, which is why the first few episodes are spoken in pure Hawaiian.
The series is loaded with enlightening historical details, yet it never gets bogged down by them. Instead, it strikes a fine balance between intense action, meaningful characterization, and the island’s deep lore. It helps, too, that the series looks glorious—all lush and sunlit. Controversially, much of Chief of War was shot in New Zealand, not Hawaii, but the show still looks better than 90% of the grayish sludge on TV right now.
Swagger could’ve easily been a generic sports drama about an ambitious prodigy who, against all odds and through sheer determination, makes it to the top. It is that, but it’s also so much more. Swagger offers biting commentary on race and economic realities, as well as heart-warming and relatable stories about family, love, and coming of age. It’s finely acted, with everyone from the kids and their parents to the coaches offering lived-in and realistic performances. The show is most reminiscent of the 2000 film Love & Basketball, which would make sense since the latter is directed by Swagger director Reggie Bythewood’s spouse, Gina Prince-Bythewood. Swagger and Love & Basketball have unique differences, of course, but both deeply understand and powerfully speak to the Black experience.
For those familiar with the original book series, you’ll already know what kind of show to expect. The Apple+ cartoon is centered on the two titular amphibians going through universal adventures that makes or breaks your day. From finding the willpower to resist eating delicious cookies, to hoping a friend would contact you when you’re lonely, each episode keeps a gentle sort of humor, poking lighthearted fun at the differences between the emotional Toad and more sensible Frog. With each episode’s twenty minute runtime, and two adventures per episode, Frog and Toad is a sweet, nostalgic series that’s easy to breeze through for millennial parents and their kids.
Based on Epic magazine’s column of the same name, Little America is an anthology series based on real-life immigrant stories. The episodes vary in plot, topic, and even era—they’re as diverse as the characters themselves—but they are all connected by one thing: the hope of achieving the American Dream. In one episode, an Iranian father sets out to build his family’s dream home in a bid to prevent his son from moving out. In another, a second-generation Korean-American struggles to find his calling, much to the dismay of his war-survivor parents (“What do you know about suffering?” the mother, played by Parasite’s Lee Jung-eun asks when her son complains about med school).
Co-created by Lee Eisenberg, Kumail Nanjiani, and Emily Gordon (The Big Sick) and directed by Sian Heder (CODA), Little America is a heartwarming collection of stories, as moving as it is urgent. It’s easy to miss this over splashier shows on TV, but trust that this one’s worth tuning into.
What if the 1960s space race never ended? For All Mankind imagines such a world; here, Russia’s cosmonauts arrive on the moon first, the galaxy holds resources beyond belief, and global wars have expanded in stakes and scale. More than just the final frontier, outer space is now the focal point of warring nations hungry to capitalize and claim new assets.
For All Mankind’s out-of-this-world premise alone make it a thrilling watch, but you’ll be glad to know that the show also feels intimate and affecting thanks to its fully fleshed-out characters. If you’re looking for an epic but grounded story to lose yourself in, this is it.
It’s always fascinating to see how the ultra-rich live, but it’s even more fun to see them ruin themselves with greed. That’s what happens in Your Friends and Neighbors when Coop (Hamm) loses his main source of income and decides to rob his wealthy friends and neighbors. He starts slow as to remain inconspicuous: luxury watches they barely wear, paintings they pass by every day. Disposable for them, but worth a living to the increasingly broke Coop. But soon, petty thievery gives way to something more dangerous and compromising, endangering not just Coop’s status but his life. It’s a smart, entertaining show, given much heft by Jon Hamm. It’s nice to see him donning a similar character to the iconic one he gave life to in Mad Men. Here, again, he injects pathos in what would otherwise seem like a typical rich sad sack. Hamm turns Coop into someone complicated, sympathetic even, as he hides his emotional implosion behind a sleek suit. Though its class commentary is not as sharp as it should be, Your Friends and Neighbors is nonetheless a worthwhile watch—if only to see Hamm back in his element.
Led by Brian Tyree Henry (Atlanta, The Fire Inside, Bullet Train), Dope Thief is a thrilling if uneven crime comedy following two grifters (the other played by Wagner Moura) who get into deep trouble after a fake drug bust goes wrong. With cartel men and the feds chasing them, Henry and Moura’s characters must find a way to protect themselves and their loved ones, all while they process some unresolved grief and trauma. Moura is reliably great, but Henry juggles plenty of hats here—he is the emotional core, as well as often the funniest guy in the room. It gets uneven midway, but nothing some impressive and enjoyable performances can’t fix.
While the show won’t teach you chemistry (or at least not enough for non-chemists to understand certain dialogue), Lessons in Chemistry is an enjoyable adaptation of the bestselling novel. Taking what makes the novel great, the period mini-series, like many period shows, highlights the historical inequality, but does so in a way that’s organic. Protagonist Elizabeth Zott, like Brie Larson, is just simply ahead of her time, while misogyny misinterprets her words and actions. The series also expands on other characters, but still manages to keep a steady pace, through clever rearrangement and reinterpretation of the novel’s plot points. Adding in the lovely costumes, and a stronger love story to start, Lessons in Chemistry might be Apple TV+’s answer to The Queen’s Gambit, albeit set a decade earlier.
By now, it’s pretty clear that Apple TV+ follows a less-is-more philosophy when it comes to content. Sure, it doesn’t release a million new titles in a year like Netflix or Prime, but the few originals that it does put out are almost always good (and occasionally great), backed by an astounding budget and ambitious vision. Sunny is the latest addition to that category. The multi-genre show is a deceptively simple robo-buddy comedy that is engaging through and through. Yes, it’s futuristic—and fantastic in that regard—but it’s also funny, heartwarming, thrilling, and tragic. And it juggles all these effortlessly so that the other aspects of the show, such as the artful blend of tradition and tech, can shine through.
On Jeju Island, there lives a fierce group of elderly women who free-dive and catch sea creatures for a living. They’re called Haenyo, considered indigenous because of the ingenious ways they’ve kept the South Korean tradition alive for decades. In this beautiful documentary, Director Sue Kim follows them under the sea and beyond as they fight to preserve their way of life, which is threatened by global warming (the creatures have gone deeper to avoid warm waters), corporate interests (Fukushima’s radioactive waste, if dumped in the ocean, would affect the community), and waning public interest (only a handful of the Haenyo are under 70 years old). There’s also the issue of payment and protection, because as one freediver puts it, “What’s the use of being recognized by UNESCO if we can’t earn enough to sustain ourselves?” The Last of the Sea Women tackles all this and more using the most gorgeous shots I’ve seen in a while.
Directed by Morgan Neville (20 Feet From Stardom, Won’t You Be My Neighbor), Steve! is an appropriately fun and artistic documentary capturing its subject matter’s fun and artistic spirit. It’s a delight to see Martin’s other personas, such as his early magician self, his philosophy major self, and his quietly humorous cartoonist self. We’re so used to seeing his fast-paced zaniness that these parts of the documentary are almost shocking to see. But maybe the most illuminating role Martin plays is that of his current self. In equal measure, he cracks jokes and offers wise words about aging which, at 75, he takes in enviously great stride.
Joel Coen’s minimalist vision of the Scottish play emphasizes that these monstrous acts of hubris and violence are carried out not because of madness or magical prophecy, but out of the rational yet selfish decisions made by grown adults. It’s a distinctly character-focused interpretation of Shakespeare that should be insightful for students and fans alike, as Denzel Washington and Frances McDormand lend more sedate performances to what have become two of the grandest characters in theater history. The Tragedy of Macbeth weaken the impact of some of Shakespeare’s most famous soliloquies due to the film’s more hurried runtime, but it makes for a great tribute nonetheless. Come for the stunningly lit black-and-white sets, stay for the gleefully creepy performance by Kathryn Hunter as the three witches.
As one of the most recognizable and successful NBA players in the world today, Stephen Curry certainly doesn’t need a documentary to persuade anyone else about his talent and the legacy he’s already created in basketball. This definitely robs Underrated of some of its urgency, knowing that the Golden State Warrior has the luxury of ruminating on his victories and failures from a place of comfort. Still, the film’s decision to focus on a young Curry before reaching the height of his powers allows us to watch these long stretches of game time through a different emotional lens. His is a classic underdog story that’s probably far more common among players in the league, but it’s still entertaining to be able to track his growth from game to game.
In what is only his second feature, Greek director Christos Nikou crafts a singular universe that is orderly and enticing. The dystopian premise that you can now scientifically test for love may be bizarre, but it answers to one of the biggest anxieties humans share. That said, this particular world feels so close to ours today, that you want to dive right in it, weirdness and all. Even the topos of the love clinic, where couples get evaluated and take on exercises before they take the test is framed as a space for hope. There’s no underlying cynicism in Nikou’s film, which is perhaps the most surprising fact about it; on the contrary, longing—however painful it may be—abounds and seeps through the carefully composed images of shared doubt and suspect intimacy. Last, but not least, the chemistry shared by Buckley-Ahmed-White is nothing short of explosive.
Before she captivated the film world with her performance in Scorcese’s crime drama Killers of the Flower Moon, Lily Gladstone starred in Erica Tremblay’s feature film debut Fancy Dance, earlier in 2023. It’s a tragic drama, wherein Gladstone portrays Jax, a lesbian woman dealing with the government that failed to find her sister, and that currently seeks to transfer her niece’s custody to her white father. But it’s also an uplifting drama, one that celebrates the connection between Jax and her niece Roki, the Cayuga culture and language, and the connection with their community and tribe that continues to persist despite state disenfranchisement. Pacing issues do make the film a tad rushed, but nevertheless, Fancy Dance is a subtle and poignant debut, made much more grounded with the excellent lead performances.
Primarily, Cha Cha Real Smooth follows Andrew (Cooper Raiff) as he figures out what to do with his life post-college. But peripherally, it’s also about love, friendship, coming of age, and parenthood. Sometimes the movie wobbles under the weight of all it wants to be and you start to wonder whether it would benefit from a leaner script and a tighter focus.
But ultimately, Cha Cha Real Smooth is endearing and a breeze to watch. Andrew is relatable as a know-it-all who doesn’t actually know it all, and Domino (Dakota Johnson) is moving as a young mother consumed by both her envy and love for Andrew. Despite its occasional unevenness, the film’s big emotional heart triumphs, and sometimes that’s the best that you can hope for in a story about one’s 20s.
Palmer may not be treading new ground, but it does tackle relevant themes with impressive sensitivity. With Palmer (Justin Timberlake), it reveals the stigma that haunts ex-convicts well after they’ve redeemed themselves. And with Sam (a charming Ryder Allen), it brings to light the heartbreaking and often dangerous bigotry queer children face. These are heavy issues, but Palmer takes them on with the utmost care and compassion. Though it reads cheesy at times, the sweetness is a welcome note considering the more tragic turns narratives like this tend to take. Empathetic and hopeful, Palmer is a pleasant enough film about second chances and found families.
As the title suggests, My Mind & Me is a documentary that reckons with the mental state of a pop star who shot to fame at an early age and who, now in her 30s, continues to deal with the destabilizing pressures of celebrity. This is Selena Gomez in her most open state, frankly sharing her experiences with bipolar disorder and self-harm, as well as self-love and acceptance.
Stylistically, this isn’t something you haven’t seen before, and it’s as straightforward as documentaries can get. But it is endearing in its commitment to staying personal and raw, and this alone makes it a worthwhile and ultimately illuminating watch.
Between Air, Pinball, Blackberry, and Tetris (is nothing sacred anymore?), 2023 has seen its fair share of business biopics. Unfortunately for The Beanie Bubble, it’s coming at the tail end of a trend that has overstayed its welcome in theaters. The Beanie Bubble isn’t very different from its predecessors in that it depicts its product as revolutionary and game-changing for the industry (it’s really not) and attempts to simplify the business phenom via cute graphics and quirky dialogue. Those aspects of the film are fine, if a bit forgettable, but The Beanie Bubble deserves some praise for exploring the power imbalance between Warner and his female partners, whose ideas he milked to no end. Robbie (Elizabeth Banks), Sheila (Sarah Snook), and Maya (Geraldine Viswanathan) are the ones telling this story, and even though the constant time hopping can get irritating, there are times when it feels inspired, like when Robbie starts one sentence and Maya ends her thought. They may be years apart but they’re all falling victim to the same greedy man who has a pattern of exploiting the talented women around him.
George Clooney and Brad Pitt are two of the coolest actors to come out of Hollywood, and this film is a testament to this fact. Watching them, you’ll be reminded of how leading men should be effortlessly funny and charming, but there is such a thing as too cool. Clooney and Pitt are so relaxed and unbothered, you rarely feel the danger of some scenes. When they’re chased by a mob of hitmen or enter a mafia house, you can tell from their expressions alone that they’ll survive, which strips all the fun and mystery out of a thriller such as this. Not that the plot is anything to speak of; its bones are formulaic, helped only by the witty dialogue and charming delivery. They can be hilarious, but mostly watching them feels like hearing a joke that’s gone on for way too long. The movie quickly loses its novelty and drags on, picking up only during the Kid’s (Austin Abrams) whose earnestness and liveliness make him a scene-stealer, yes even and especially with Clooney and Pitt there.
From the director of Once and Sing Street comes Dublin-set Flora and Son, part love letter to music, part not-so-slick advertisement for Apple’s GarageBand. Eve Hewson plays the titular single mother, whose wayward 14-year-old son Max (Orén Kinlan) is one more slip-up away from being sent to youth detention. In an attempt to find an outlet for his unruly teenage energy, she salvages a beat-up guitar, but after he rejects it, there’s nothing to do but give it a go herself — cue her belated moment of self-discovery.
Max’s anonymity in the title makes sense, then, because this is much more Flora’s story. However, while Hewson pours energy into the role, she can’t quite transcend the script’s limits: Flora’s initial unlikeability (a little too emphatic), and the awkward attempts to roughen up a feel-good story with unconvincingly gritty elements. The film seems aware of audience expectations for a Carney joint, too, so it skips convincing dynamics and fleshed-out supporting characters in its rush to deliver musical setpieces (which never quite reach the catchy heights of Sing Street’s earworms, unfortunately). Still, there’s real charm — and some compelling ideas about the magic of music — in here, especially once the film gets past its shaky first third and unabashedly embraces its feel-good heart.
With the high-caliber list of actors starring in The Instigators, you’d think the movie would be better—not necessarily novel or smart, but funny or entertaining, at least. You keep waiting for that moment to happen, but it never comes. If there are jokes, they’re delivered in a deadpan manner that doesn’t seem to fit with the movie’s tone. The Instigators is an okay film to put on when you’re scrambling to look for something to watch with your dad. He’ll recognize more than a few faces and enjoy the banter between hardcore Bostonians Damon and Affleck (the other one). Backed by Apple’s deep pockets, it’s also a spectacle of an action film, with explosions and car crashes to spare. Just don’t expect anything more than that, then you should be able to sit through the movie.