15 Best Anti-capitalist Shows to Watch Right Now

In Lumon, a company that resembles the increasingly intrusive oligarchs of Big Tech, Mark (Adam Scott) and his colleagues undergo a procedure that allows them to separate their work memories from their non-work memories. It sounds like a dream: the perfect work-life balance. But things get complicated when one colleague mysteriously leaves and is replaced by confused new hire, Helly (Britt Lower). Mark and Helly dig into shocking truths about what they really do, and for whom.

Just like the endless halls of Lumon, Severance is filled with twists and turns, many of which are impossible to see coming. Slow, smart, and sneaked with a dystopian eerieness that doesn’t feel all that far off, Severance is sure to leave you wary of corporate slavishness, if you aren’t already.

The White Lotus follows a group of vacationing tourists in Hawaii who, in their wealth and entitlement, get into some pretty horrific (but largely entertaining) mishaps. It’s always fun to satirize the rich, but what really gives The White Lotus its edge is a brilliant understanding of the trickle-down dangers of privilege. We’re made to witness the uncomfortable ways in which the service industry twists itself to accommodate the guests, and how time and again these efforts are lost to the upper class. Biting, witty, and relevant, The White Lotus effortlessly stands out in the recent slew of class consciousness content.

Industry has all the markings of an HBO show: an abundance of sex, drugs, alcohol, and sure enough, an inextinguishable affinity for the F word. Like Succession, The Sopranos, and even Euphoria before it, it revels in its freedom to explore the nitty-grittiest parts of its subject matter and put its gruesome findings on full display. But instead of capitalism, organized crime, or teenhood, Industry incisively takes on hustle culture.

Through the eyes of four new hires at a premier investment bank in London, we see the dangerous means people put themselves through in order to achieve some semblance of respect, recognition, or at the very least stability. Bullying is rampant, hazing is normalized, competition is encouraged, and blind loyalty is rewarded. The characters are so flawed and damaged, you’ll often find yourself rooting for their demise. But you’ll also be glued to their arcs and storylines. Will they break the cycle of abuse or continue it? Can they actually change the system from within or does that remain a utopian dream? These questions are hardly charming, but Industry has a way of making them engaging, exciting even. It fully inhabits the meanness you can and should only enjoy behind the safety of a TV screen.

This miniseries is about the drug Oxycotin and how corporate greed and corruption kickstarted a harrowing epidemic in the United States. Oxycotin was falsely advertised as non-addictive, which led to many people taking it for small or moderate injuries and becoming drug addicts. 

It’s a collection of stories of hard-working middle-class families and how they were ravaged by the drug, all set against the obscene wealth of the family-owned pharma company that sells it. At the same time, it follows lawyers and federal agents who tried to stop the drug early on and the obstacles they faced. 

Michael Keaton plays a small-town doctor, Rosario Dawson plays a DEA agent who was one of the first to look into the company, and Kaitlyn Dever (Booksmart) plays a teenager who gets prescribed the drug for a back injury. 

Sci-fi is already a pretty wild genre. Anything can happen in this fantasy world, so it takes a special kind of skill to make a new entry seem original once more. But Pantheon throughout its eight-episode run manages to be just that thanks to its resonant storytelling, inventive editing, and brilliant, heartfelt premise. 

The scope of the story is as wide as it is wild: it’s about the unregulated rise of “uploaded intelligence,” after all, where human minds are fully uploaded and digitized for corporate use. Global tech companies are in an arms race to transform this discovery into weaponry, as they are wont to do, without giving mind to the human and environmental costs. Challenging them is the unlikely duo of Maddy and Caspian (Katie Chang and Paul Dano, respectively) who, as direct victims of this greed, have more than a few grievances to express. 

It’s exciting to see how far the dystopia of Pantheon goes, but anytime it flies too high, it’s always grounded by the fleshed-out humanity of Maddy and Caspian. The series runs on their self-discovery and existential crises as much as it does on extraordinary circumstances. Expect to shed a tear or two while watching this series. 

From the Oscar-nominated cinematographer of City of God, this is a Brazilian Netflix TV show that I can only describe as a smarter Hunger Games. In a dystopian society, the majority of the planet’s population lives in extreme poverty while a select 3% (hence the title) live in a heaven-like world called “The Offshore”. Every year, the 20-year-olds of the planet get a chance to join the 3% in a selection process that for the first time might harbor moles. With an intriguing first episode that shares just enough to keep you informed but engaged, it’s easy to want to binge-watch the whole first season of 3% in one sitting.

Warning: this workplace series takes everything you hate about corporate life and mirrors it back to you with alarming clarity. It takes place in a morally corrupt multinational called Hampton DeVille, and we mostly follow “junior executives in training” Matt and Jake in their daily goings-on in the office. Sometimes, they’re able to cope by sneaking a nap here or making watercooler jokes there—absurd imaginings and occasional protests also help allay their boredom—but for the most part, they’ve given up on the system and are just trudging through the everyday. While Matt optimistically hopes for a better life outside the cubicle, Jake cynically lets him (and us) know that “There no way not to waste your life.”

Like Office Space and Better Off Ted before it, Corporate is endlessly nihilistic, but unlike them, it doesn’t have a redemptive moment where the protagonists find a silver lining in their jobs. No, Corporate is as bleak as it gets. But buoyed by ridiculous hilarity, sharp social commentary, and the insane ability to perfectly describe corporate life, it remains highly watchable, like a dystopian tragicomedy inching closer and closer to real life.

Boots Riley established himself as a wildly creative voice with 2018’s zany anti-capitalist satire Sorry To Bother You, and with his second project, he digs his heels even deeper into that singular approach. I’m A Virgo’s world feels deeply uncanny yet intimately familiar, what with its absurdly militarised authority figures, dog-whistling media, and greed-driven economy. It’s set in Oakland, where 13-foot Black teenager Cootie (Jharrel Jerome) lives in secrecy with his normal-sized family. Frustrated, Cootie decides to venture into the outside world, but he’s soon exploited, projected onto, and demonized. However, it’s also not long before he makes his first friends, falls in love, and unlearns everything he thought he knew about the world.

The biggest revelation is that Cootie’s favorite superhero, an Iron Man-esque billionaire called The Hero (Walton Goggins), isn’t actually doing good by enforcing the law to the letter. Though it takes many weird and wonderful detours, it’s this aspect of Cootie’s consciousness-widening that is the show’s ultimate destination. These radical politics give it a sharp overarching focus, meaning its mind-bending eccentricity never feels too indulgent. It all makes for a refreshingly original, gloriously weird watch that you’re guaranteed not to have seen the likes of elsewhere.

It’s a tall order to depict One Hundred Years of Solitude. Considered to be one of the world’s most important novels to read, expectations were high, the magic realism required a hefty budget, and the sprawling seven-generation plotline felt like it couldn’t fit within a feature film, or around 90-120 minutes. It’s because of this that author Gabriel García Márquez held out on selling the rights, and the family followed suit after his death. Luckily, more than half a century later, streaming television garnered enough prestige and profit to finally adapt the classic. Netflix thankfully stuck to the family’s wishes of having it filmed in Spanish, in Colombia, with Colombian actors, but it also expanded on the layered text in ways video can only do so– like fleshing out the story visually and aurally, having an omniscient narrator, and taking advantage of the medium through editing, direction, and excellent performances from the cast. Cien años de soledad doesn’t just work– it makes it so much easier to understand hype and the themes for people completely new to the text.

Paul Giamatti and Damian Lewis (Homeland) star opposite each other as a prosecutor and a billionaire suspect in this well-crafted drama. Axe is a venture-capitalist who lost his business partners in 9/11 and who is widely appreciated in the public eye for his charity work. He comes under scrutiny from a ruthless and unusual public prosecutor (Giamatti) after allegations of insider-trading. The two alpha-male types go head-to-head which makes for an immensely watchable fight.

When people donate to temples, they rarely contemplate the way these donations are used for its upkeep and renovation, and they would never think to imagine the possibility of profit. Netflix Thai drama The Believers centers on three young entrepreneurs, who, due to debt, decide to partner up with an abandoned temple as a money making scheme. It’s an audacious scheme, one that, of course, terribly exploits its devotees. But the show also examines the ways these schemes help draw genuine devotees towards the religion, creating a mutualistic relationship between the temple and profiteers that can’t be easily undone. With the recent fraud investigations around Thai temples leading to controversial imprisonments a few years ago, The Believers is a timely examination of a rarely examined issue.

Every episode of Better Off Ted starts with a satirical commercial from Veridian Dynamics, a multinational that does just about anything: biotech, weaponry, food, clothes, furniture. A soothing, soulless voice narrates the ad as happy, empty stock footage fills the screen: they can get you anything you please as long as it pleases them more. Money before people, goes the company motto, and there seems to be nothing that can stop them from achieving this goal.

Except perhaps for Ted and his small research and development team. As the conscience of Veridian Dynamics, he mediates between his amoral supervisors and hardworking colleagues and sticks up for the little guy as best as he can. He looks for the slim silver lining in every project he’s assigned, but the hijinks that ensue are both silly and sinister, highlighting the inherent contradiction of ideas like “family company” or “work-life balance.”

Released in 2009 and cut short by ABC after its second-season run, Better Off Ted is an impressively prescient show that holds its own in a TV age obsessed with satirizing corporate culture. It tackles topics like racially-biased tech and meatless meat before they’ve even entered mainstream knowledge. It lacks some of the warmth and character depth you may be used to in typical half-hour sitcoms, but if you’re looking for something wickedly sharp, Better Off Ted is the way to go.

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.

Tragedy can strike at any time, but some instances are preventable, and rare is the instance where people do seek justice for it. After all, after losing so much, it would be awful to fight and lose again. But these instances do still exist, and one such incident is the Uphaar cinema fire. Trial by Fire depicts this tragedy, but rather than focusing on the fire itself, it focuses on the fight the victims’ families took in order to seek justice. The show doesn’t play out as a courtroom drama, it takes an intimate look into their day-to-day actions, faithfully portrayed by the excellent Rajshri Deshpande and Abhay Deol. And while the industrial giants depicted tried to file an injunction against this show’s screening, thankfully, Trial by Fire is still able to make its stand. It’s solemn and grim, but it’s a potent reminder of the power we hold as a collective.

Children’s television isn’t likely going to be controversial, daring, or particularly groundbreaking, but certain shows acknowledge that they can impact the way their audience views the world. Luz: The Light of the Heart has a familiar Disney-esque plot of a child going on an adventure to learn more about her roots, but through that basic formula, the first Brazilian Netflix kid series takes the opportunity to respectfully portray the indigenous Kaingang community in their plot, who takes care of and is more knowledgeable about the natural land, and whose teachings may be acknowledged if Luz, potential land heiress, manages to find out the truth. There are some of the standard childish shenanigans, like privileged boarding school drama that occurs when Luz enters the school, but overall, Luz: The Light of the Heart isn’t a bad choice if you’re looking for something to watch with children.