30 Best Documentary TV Shows of 2024

Dark Side of the Ring is where the comfort of pro wrestling and the mystery of true crime meet. The very premise of the series is that the wrestling industry is rife with with sketchy and downright depressing stories; and while it continues the tradition of depicting pro wrestling tragically (to great results), the episodes are streamlined and very consistent with having an insightful and balanced pool of perspectives. There’s a lot of details for wrestling fans to sink their teeth into, but for the true crime and mystery-loving crowd, expect baseline stories about drugs, self-destruction, and outlaw wrestling practices unless it’s one of those transcendent stories.

Anyone tired of the same old cliches found in true crime shows (and there are a lot of them) will feel reinvigorated watching The Jinx. Director Andrew Jarecki goes one step further from the usual fare by interrogating the subject, himself an unnerving character, and unearthing evidence that changes the trajectory of his story. The Jinx is a great true crime documentary in that it’s gripping and well-researched, but it’s also great television, point blank. It’s thought-provoking, unsettling, and strives to always keep the viewer at the edge of their seat.

In an interview, Conan compared Conan O’Brien Must Go to a travel documentary, except, he said, you don’t learn anything new or interesting. After watching the show, I can safely say that that couldn’t be further from the truth, though it is indicative of the kind of self-deprecating humor he employs throughout the show. What you learn from watching Conan hop from one country to another, improvising and befriending people from different parts of the world, is that it is possible to be both ridiculously funny and genuinely kind. Many comedians joke at the expense of other people—they’re willing to humiliate them, not themselves—but Conan is the opposite. He is always the butt of a joke. Even when he’s pointing out something inane, it’s his incredulity that we’re laughing at. Upon watching this four-parter, you also learn that no one can match, much less top, what Conan does.

Before the documentary, I knew very little about Dr. Ann Burgess, and as I watched it, I realized it’s not because her contributions to history were so little (just the opposite, they’re incredibly important and far-reaching) but because Burgess doesn’t like to promote herself all that much. “There are too many things to do to be bothered by all that,” she says with impressive urgency at 87. Thankfully, Mastermind director Abigail Fuller distills Burgess’ storied career into three deeply engaging episodes for all to witness and enjoy. Here, you see Burgess standardize criminal profiling and help agents capture serial killers like the notorious Ski-Mask Rapist. You also see other sides to Burgess—the nurse, mother, mentor, professor, and advocate—and you start to feel frustrated on her behalf, because she should get way more credit than what she’s been given thus far.

Chimp Crazy, like Tiger King before it, is a difficult watch. It follows chimpanzee owners and their almost fanatic loyalty to the primates (one famously breastfed a chimp and raised her as her child), but mostly it trails Tonia Haddix, an animal broker who is obsessed with the 32-year-old chimp and sometime Hollywood star Tonka. I won’t spoil the things she does to save their relationship, but I assure you it’s chilling and outrageous. That said, shock isn’t the only thing Chimp Crazy has going for it. The curious way it’s filmed is surely cause for debate. And the way everyone here—whether that’s Haddix, the occasional dangerous chimp, or the near-manipulative director Eric Goode—seems at once manipulative and sympathetic is a feat of its own.

It’s easy to forget that Netflix helped boost the popularity of the true crime genre, especially since it’s pumping out a new series almost daily. A lot of them are rushed and sensationalized, but there are a few that are worthwhile. Into the Fire is thankfully the latter. Showrunner Jenna Lamia and Director Susanne Bier tell Terkanian and her daughter’s story in a refreshingly measured way, making sure to hone in on Terkanian’s restless energy. It’s that energy that rallies the community behind her in breaking open the case and uncovering many more missing persons besides her daughter. The same energy makes the show feel more dynamic and alive than other true crime documentaries. It’s also more restrained and respectful. No overdramatized suspense or sensationalized twists here, just an incredibly true story, cleverly and humanely told.

Sometimes thinking about your home state can feel complicated, because while it’s your home, the events and issues and controversies of the state can make people think differently of it. With plenty of controversies but also having the most residents, Texas does have a distinct cultural identity, and Texan native director Richard Linklater explores its different sides, including the sides unheard of, through the three-part God Save Texas. Teaming up with Alex Stapleton and Iliana Sosa, they tackle the Huntsville prison complex, the Houston oil industry, and the borders of El Paso, but they do so through a compassionate, personal perspective that simply and subtly shifts our understanding of the Lone Star State, and America as a whole.

Stax’s existence may have been short-lived, but its impact continues to be felt in every R&B record produced to this day. That’s one of the points this four-part documentary from HBO successfully makes so that by the end, you’re convinced Stax should be just as recognizable and appreciated as Motown, Atlantic, and other influential record labels. For the most part, the series resembles the typical documentary in that it’s propelled by animated talking heads and complementary archival footage, but the performances of Stax stars, including and most especially Otis Redding and Isaac Hayes, inject the documentary with an energy and electricity that pushes you to move and groove. The old-school editing feels thoughtful, too, while the additional animation adds a delightfully nostalgic touch. The documentary itself may not be as revolutionary as the events it captures, but it is just as enlightening, electrifying, and enjoyable.

The inherent drama of succession stories has always made for great, entertaining TV. You only have to look at Game of Thrones, Dynasty, Yellowstone, and, well, Succession to know that. With Ren Faire, director Lance Oppenheim (Some Kind of Heaven, Spermworld) ups the ante by following the real and ongoing power struggle between the Renaissance fair employees clawing and scratching their way to the top. They’re so animated and dead-set on inheriting a literal kingdom that Oppenheim and his team hardly have to do anything to color this tale. And yet, color it they do, to wonderfully cinematic and comedic effect. The employees are (willingly) dubbed “Lord of Corn” and “The Fairy Godmother,” while Coulam is of course the longstanding King. You get the sense that their feuds are heightened in the presence of the cameras, but feel entertained nonetheless. To cap things off, the documentary is shot using grainy unfocused film, sometimes edited in the trippy way low-budget 60’s films used to look so that it matches the surreal reality of the fair. The story could’ve been interesting on its own, but the artful and intentional way it’s told elevates it.

Wyatt Earp’s adventures in the Wild West are the stuff of legend. Indeed, plenty of Hollywood greats have tried to recreate—or at least, emulate—his mythology, from Jimmy Stewart and Henry Fonda to Kevin Costner and Val Kilmer. But maybe non-fiction is the way to go. That’s what I gathered from watching the deeply engaging six-part docudrama Wyatt Earp and the Cowboy War. The series blends well-acted dramatic performances with expert commentary from historians, and the cherry on top is that Ed Harris (The Man in Black from Westworld! Of course!) narrates with the kind of cool and character that makes you want to listen to him forever. But the key here is that balance between drama and documentary: it never feels too played up, thanks in large part to the actors’ lived-in performances (my favorite is Thomas Fitch), nor does it feel like a droning history lesson, even though we do end up learning so much more about Earp and the legendary shootout that occurred in O.K. Corral. It’s all edited so that you get different things, too, per episode. One serves as a riveting legal drama, another is more focused on the juicy love triangle Earp is involved in. All, however, are equally educational and exciting.