40 Best Foreign-language Miniseries of All Time

On the surface, The Makanai is a simple, slice-of-life show about food and friendship. While it is that, to be sure, it’s also a substantial drama that tackles questions about art vs. love, and love vs. companionship, and career vs. purpose. Under the gentle guidance of showrunner Hirokazu Kore-eda (Still Walking, Shoplifters, Broker), who generously allows up-and-coming directors to take the helm on certain episodes, The Makanai feels at once light and hefty, comforting and challenging. We’re seeing mundane events unfold before us as if we were bystanders, but we also understand that there is so much more happening than what meets the eye. A prolonged gaze, a lovingly prepped meal, an especially sharp wing-eye, all of these have much to say about the state of mind of these girls.

It’s a supremely gentle and culturally rich show with a tender heart; a truly great watch on all accounts.

Featuring almost no external conflict for its protagonist to face, this story of a young, ill-tempered calligraphy artist—sent to recollect himself at an island community—makes the private process of soul-searching as inspiring as it is cathartic. It’s a series that understands how one’s art is informed almost subliminally by the smallest observations and interactions, transforming the act of personal expression into a tribute to the people and places who give this expression real weight. So even if Barakamon spends most of its time on quaint, everyday experiences without any heightened drama, you get the sense that something significant is shifting within Seishu with every day that passes. It’s a warm, beautiful anime about some of the biggest existential questions, delivered in a modest, good-humored way.

Reimagining a children’s classic as a mature serial killer mystery, PLUTO already had high expectations for its anime adaptation. The limited series adds an additional challenge, with only hour-long episodes dedicated to each of the series’ eight volumes, which follows not only Gesicht’s own investigation, but also in-depth stories of each of the remaining Great Robots. However, the anime, now showing on Netflix, is able to meet this challenge with its deep understanding of the source material. It’s not just a straightforward police procedural, or just futuristic dream of how AI and humans can co-exist. PLUTO is a robot series that strikes at the heart of what it means to be human.

Pokémon is one of the world’s most popular franchises, and it’s mainly centered around the idea of cute, colorful creatures with special powers to be caught, trained, and put into battles. Pokémon Concierge is a different side to the franchise, but instead of the high-octane action and world-ending fights, the four-episode series contemplates the idea that maybe these cuddly creatures need to rest too. As anxious newbie Haru adjusts to the laidback, paradisal resort, and acquaints herself with felt-fabric versions of the familiar cartoon creatures, Pokémon Concierge is an excellent reminder to enjoy yourself once in a while.

The series follows three perspectives: a government official, a Tokyo Electric Power Company employee, and a worker at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant, each with their respective teams tackling the aftermath of the March 11, 2001 earthquake and tsunami. From the reporting updates to the public to the dedication of first responders, ‘The Days’ excels at piecing together the macro- and micro-decisions that went into saving the residents of Fukushima. The series deepens the narrative to be more than a mere recollection with its scenes of the families of the victims and the residents as they evacuate their homes. Its steady pace, emotional close-ups, and suspenseful score capture the harrowing atmosphere of Japan’s worst natural disaster. 

Most people wouldn’t think that math is a transferable skill to the culinary arts, and in reality, it probably is. Fermat’s Cuisine disputes that, as Gaku Kitada makes the unique career shift from becoming a mathematician to becoming the head chef of the restaurant. While most people (ourselves included) won’t really understand what kind of calculations he makes in order to succeed, it’s easy to sympathize with Gaku’s troubles as he tries to make a new start. It’s also an intriguing mystery to try and figure out what happened between this start and his later success. Choosing a career path, finding a good mentor, and trying to learn something new are things everyone goes through. Fermat’s Cuisine confidently suggests math is the answer.

After decades of terrifying tales, it’s no wonder that Junji Ito developed a cult following internationally, big enough for a streaming giant like Netflix to invest in a brand new adaptation. Junji Ito Maniac: Japanese Tales of the Macabre is fairly faithful to its source material, keeping the plot points of supernatural beings and spine-chilling body horror in its selected twelve tales. That being said, being an anthology, the selection in Junji Ito Maniac greatly varies on how scary it is. On top of this, the series’ art style, made more cleanly for easier animation, is simply less scary than the black-and-white, shadowy sketches from the original manga. New and younger viewers might still get a thrill from the latest anime rendition of Junji Ito’s stories, though older fans might find that it pales to the original.

Based on an arc of the classic Space Age manga, Phoenix: Eden17 reimagines the future of space exploration into a contemplation of human nature. While the show’s pacing speeds through its plot points within four episodes, each reveal feels gut wrenching, as Romi consistently has to deal with changes in Eden, Earth, and what happened to her loved ones. Modern-style animation is used, but inspired the original style of its time, creating a modernized version of the original mangaka Osamu Tezuka’s stunning images. But it’s the series’ ideas that make the show unique. Greed, betrayal, isolation, and human error causes all the disasters in this show’s universe, and even when you know it’s coming, it’s still hard not to feel the devastation the characters feel. Despite being based on a manga created decades ago, Phoenix: Eden17 still feels like an entirely singular work. Given modern animation, the ideas of the father of manga feel like it’s something never seen before.

Most people take for granted that for the longest time, certain sectors of society had no one in their corner on screen, at least until someone bold and brilliant enough dared to meet the world on their own terms. Veneno is a series about the iconic titular trans TV personality, but it’s also a story about a trans journalist finding voice and her own gender expression through meeting La Veneno. It’s excellently structured, alternating between La Veneno’s beginnings and Valeria Vegas’ writing, and it’s just lovely to see the new faces of Spain’s trans community celebrate the woman that brought the community on screen.

Releasing a documentary and a mini-series on the same case on the same day, Netflix understands how compelling Rosa Peral’s story is. Burning Body dramatizes the case’s events, but it does so in a way that questions the police as an institution. With the case, it’s clear that the ones assigned to protect citizens from crimes are trained enough to hide their own. However, the series also underscores the blatant sexism in their ranks, from higher ups taking advantage of new recruits, to spreading revenge porn on their fellow colleagues. With Money Heist’s Úrsula Corberó on the helm, Burning Body paints a double sided look of a multifaceted woman.

Sports is undeniably exciting, but behind the scenes, there’s a whole world constructed just to get the players in the stadium, with sponsors funding expenses, clubs forming teams, and agents getting the players on track, whether that be through tough love or appeasement. Coppola, the Agent is centered on one such agent, the agent that handled the most famous football player in the world. Like the titular agent, the show moves at a frenetic pace, with Juan Minujín bringing to television Coppola’s fast talk and quick witted quips, and director Ariel Winograd mixing video formats and genres similar to 2022’s Winning Time. There may not be amazing goals, or outstanding plays, but Coppola, the Agent is compelling television, especially with Minujín’s fantastic depiction of the agent turned TV personality.

In Love All Over Again has many of the romance tropes fans of the genre would enjoy. The star-crossed lovers, the gay best friend, the absent-minded but well-meaning parent, and the classic romance drama jobs are present in the series. However, unlike other series, the show literally starts off with a bang. The main couple don’t get separated because of toxic dynamics or tragedy, but literally because of the 2004 Madrid train bombings. But this isn’t just a one-off event, it’s the event that shifts Irene’s life forever, as she tries to heal and process the event as best as she can. Some of the series’ plot points may not be new, but it’s sincere in examining how that event affected people’s lives, without being overly dramatic. The resulting series is sweet and it captures the Y2K nostalgia that’s currently en vogue.

Child kidnapping is any parent’s nightmare, and it’s the nightmare that drives the events of Spanish crime thriller The Snow Girl. Based on the 2020 novel of the same name, the limited series takes a unique double-pronged approach to the case at hand. The show goes through the regular police investigations we’ve seen previously, but it also comes mainly from the perspective of journalist Miren Rojo, whose previous trauma understandably limits her trust with the authorities. As the show moves the story from New York to Malaga, and switches between perspectives, and timelines, The Snow Girl adeptly maintains the novel’s original suspense, without over sensationalizing the crime at hand.

Based on a novel, A Perfect Story feels like a classic, straightforward romcom series. All of the elements are familiar to fans of the genre – running away from a wedding, bar meet-cutes, and fake relationships – but there’s a certain charm whenever these familiar elements show up. The show alternates between the timelines of Margot and David, taking its sweet time in the first episode before their timelines merge. And when they catch each other’s eye, it’s easy to root for these well-meaning characters looking for their match. While the story could be easily condensed into a film, the length allows the main duo to delve into a slowburn, friends-to-lovers romance.

With the gorgeous period costumes, the romance, and the familial dynamics, you would think that Like Water for Chocolate’s latest screen adaptation would be just the same as the film, albeit with a Bridgerton-esque style. To a certain extent, this is true, as the essence of the novel still remains intact and the production is greatly upgraded, however, the added runtime allows this latest adaptation to expand on the novel’s commentary on race and class, and how this played out within the Mexican revolution that was mostly glossed over in the film. Como Agua Para Chocolate captures the novel’s much more rich and layered flavors, in much more fulfilling and scrumptious ways.

The last time Junji Ito’s work was animated by a Western studio, it wasn’t terrible, but it didn’t match up to the terror of his original stories. Nevertheless, animators persisted, and Production I.G. and Adult Swim’s attempt is a mini-series adaptation of the three volume manga Uzumaki. Uzumaki: Spiral Into Horror is a peculiar horror series, one that may not be downright terrifying with its small-town tale, but it’s much scarier than other Western adaptations with its faithfulness to Ito’s black-and-white intricate line work. There’s probably no other way to depict this particular story– after all, it’s all about spirals– but director Hiroshi Nagahama adds dizzying movement and composer Colin Stetson adds eerie extended techniques that match the terror Kirie and Shuichi share as they struggle against the neverending spiral spell that takes over their town.

After more than a decade apart on-screen, Gael Garcia Bernal and Diego Luna finally reunite in La Máquina. While they maintained their friendship off-screen, it’s just so fun to see them take on a more comedic dynamic as they snipe at each other, get into trouble, and scramble to get things right. It’s the best part of this series, and with Gabriel Ripstein’s direction, the series is never boring, continuing to move in unexpected directions with swiveling camera movements and such a slick score. While there are some issues with the pacing, La Máquina is fun to watch, especially when focused on their leads.

With the current deluge of biopics streaming, it’s easy to overlook Clark, Netflix’s fictionalized take on Clark Olofssonm, from whom the term “Stockholm Syndrome” was coined. Bill Skarsgård, Hollywood’s favorite onscreen creep, returns to his native Sweden and plays the titular criminal with such feverish passion that it’s impossible to take your eyes off the screen.

The delirious editing (bordering on excess or camp, depending on your taste) also makes it quite the standout among all the sober real-life adaptations. Clark will surely be hit-or-miss for most people, but its riskiness alone is enough reason to watch. 

Released without fanfare outside of its home country, The Superfantastic Story of Balão is an intriguing documentary about the iconic Brazilian children’s group Turma do Balão Mágico. Through three episodes, four of its members share the story of the band, starting with their backgrounds all the way to the aftermath of their break up. In addition to the performers, other family members, producers, and certain personalities also lend their thoughts on the band’s success. The contrast between each interviewee’s accounts, with the performers’ differing from the producers’, and with the members’ varied accounts, is an interesting one, as it reveals how their different priorities shifted their experiences. While it would have been lovely to hear more of the music they performed, especially for viewers new to the band, it’s clear that the documentary was mostly made with the fans in mind.

Today’s child pop stars have a lot on their plate. On top of the already strenuous touring schedule, they have to deal with the fact that every move they make can be recorded, saved, and spread online just to cause their own downfall. Brazilian popstar Luisa Sonza grew up with the spotlight, and at the ripe old age of 25, has gone through two messy break-ups, a nude leak, and a racist controversy, all while creating two of her most captivating albums so far. If I Were Luisa Sonza portrays her at her most vulnerable– through the creating process, and the team meetings, and the doctor visits– but also at her most defiant, as she turns her scandals into art. The resulting intimate documentary might just be one part of her life, as she declares, but it’s just the precise viewpoint from this generation’s artists that is needed to question what it means to be a young artist in this day and age.

Released earlier in 2023, Lady Voyeur is reminiscent of those 80s-90s erotic thrillers that you or your parents weren’t allowed to watch, albeit with a modern hacking subplot. The Brazilian Netflix mini-series balances its erotic and its thriller sides– with Eros ruling the consensual scenes, and fear powering the mystery of Prado-Couto families. Relying on mirrors, CCTV cameras, and window reflections, the show follows the titular protagonist Miranda, seeing and being seen, as she gets roped into a conspiracy against her fling’s best friend and hotel conglomerate. It’s an interesting watch, though it lacks a tighter resolution to all its plotlines.

Have you finished Wild Wild Country and are up for another binge-worthy documentary? If so, 1994 might be a compelling option for you to consider. Released on Netflix for the 25th anniversary of the events in 2019, most of the story would be hard to believe if it wasn’t… you know… based on facts and backed up by archival footage and interviews. As it often goes with documentaries, truth is stranger than fiction.

In 1994, the Ejército Zapatista de Liberación Nacional, also known as the EZLN or the Zapatistas, declared war on the Mexican government. This happened after the North American Free Trade Agreement, or NAFTA, was signed into law. Incumbent Mexican president Salinas (pictured above) selected prominent reformist presidential candidate Luis Donaldo Colosio to become his heir. Just three months later, Colosio was shot in Tijuana on live television.

1994 is a rich, informative, and fascinating account of this violent and tumultuous year in Mexican history, featuring in-depth interviews with many of those pulling the strings at the time, including former president Salinas. As the people being interviewed point out, understanding the relevance of 1994 in Mexican politics will help you understand the country’s political and economic landscape today.

With years of films depicting Italian crime syndicates, most focus on their leaders – the Dons, the Capos, and the Consiglieres. Most of them focus on the mafia’s men. However, in this series, it’s the women who are the stars of the show. Based on the novel of the same name, The Good Mothers is a compelling crime drama, focused on the women, not the men, of the ‘Ndrangheta clan. It’s from their perspective we see the mafia. The masterful way the series unfolds makes it clear that their lives are constrained, that this dated way of life still prioritizes the family over their individual women. It makes it all the more satisfying when they’re given the opportunity to retaliate, and when they choose to take that opportunity. And it’s so much better knowing that this was real.

Mike Atlas is a former police detective now living on the streets as he reopens a supposedly solved murder case with a rookie prosecutor living in her mother’s shadow. As they dig deeper, they uncover a sinister conspiracy that reaches deep into the core of the police and justice system. The series is well-acted, with Max Riemelt giving an outstanding performance of a troubled detective suffering from trauma, guilt, and regret. Now homeless, with gaps in his memories, Atlas uses his dormant detective skills to discover the truth from eight months ago and protect his now-estranged family. There’s never a dull moment as mysteries unfold from multiple angles and pieces fall into place as theories fall apart. Sleeping Dog is an addictive guessing game until the end.

Based on the Argentine novel, Thursday’s Widows is a Mexican Netflix adaptation about the shallow lives of the nouveau riche. While this adaptation changed its setting – it’s now in Mexico, long after 2001 – the series slowly reveals the ridiculous heights to which all of the affluent families would meet to achieve their luxurious lifestyles. As the series does so with one episode dedicated to each family, their absurd lifestyles reveal possible agents, motives, means, and opportunities that could explain the death of three husbands. It makes the series a compelling murder mystery, as it delves into the things only rich people could do without dire consequences.

The real-life Tapie may be more or less interesting than the Tapie Laurent Lafitte brings to life in Class Act, but that doesn’t really matter. The series introduces the French tycoon as if he were a completely new character, which is helpful to those of us going in the series blind. There is drama, there is scandal, and since Tapie is so tied to French life, there is also history. But more than anything else, there is business. Tapie is by no means perfect, but he is a smart businessman, and Class Act’s sharp and strong writing brilliantly conveys the addictive highs and soul-crushing lows of commerce. Narrative cliches are inevitable, but that doesn’t make this well-crafted series any less enjoyable.

Butter Man: The Slickest Mexican Thief has gone under the radar the same way the titular criminal has evaded capture for years. Which is quite a shame, because Él Mantequilla has the charming, slick style of heist films from decades past. Through eight parts, Emiliano Escamilla takes on multiple fake identities, five of which happen to be the main identity Escamilla takes on in each episode. It’s funny to see how Escamilla gets away with some of these disguises, especially when he gets away with pulling millions from oblivious rich people just by dumb luck. However, what makes these scams compelling is how closer these get him to his real goal: reconnecting with his father and finding out the truth. Butter Man turns the caper series into a drama centered on family, mixing fun nostalgia with some heart.

At a certain age, it can feel like starting over again isn’t possible, especially when all signs discourage you from ever trying again. Dr. Yehya of The Last Round knows this better than most– quitting kickboxing wasn’t an option, but a requirement, with his age and near misses and personal issues taking him out of the arena and into a low point in his life. But despite this, and despite day-to-day difficulties, The Last Round also portrays him getting back up, pursuing his dream one more time. It’s a familiar story, one we’ve seen in many sports shows, but with Ahmed Al-Sakka in the ring, and the careful characterization of the whole team that gets him there, The Last Round knocks our socks out.

I Told Sunset About You isn’t the most original series out there. The school setting, the tense rivalry, and the years spent apart are familiar tropes, even for heterosexual coming-of-age dramas, though the added dimension of Teh’s Chinese Thai background is new. That being said, it doesn’t hold up the series alone. I Told Sunset About You gets specific, and in delving deep into Teh and Oh-aew’s characters, it’s clear how heartfelt and genuine the show is in depicting its story. There are moments that can be cheesy, but with the sweet way the show depicts these tender teenage years, it’s no wonder I Told Sunset About You easily reminds queer people about their own experiences in navigating these feelings.

With the fresh-faced cast and the sleek camerawork, Black Warrant, at first, didn’t seem to be the gritty adaptation of the exposé outlining the systemic corruption of the Tihar Jail in the 1980s. But, aesthetic aside, that’s precisely what Black Warrant is. Opening to Zahan Kapoor as Sunil Gupta being interviewed for the job as jailer, the show takes him and the audience to the tour of the notorious prison, and it’s a gripping one not because of the usual prisoner shenanigans, but because of the way the officers themselves happen to be in on the drugs and alcohol trade inside– and they’re ready to pin it all on Gupta if things go down. Showrunner Vikramaditya Motwane pulls it all together with excellent performances from the cast, an eerie score, and the real life headlines of some of India’s notorious prisoners.

Netflix is no stranger to adapting novels, nor to period dramas – Cigarette Girl is one of many, but it’s one from Indonesia that stands out due to its unique premise and excellent execution. Based on the novel by Ratih Kumala, the show is a slow-burn, smoldering period romance set amidst Indonesia’s kretek cigarette industry, booming in the 1960s, but it’s framed within the 2000s, where the man’s family uncovers his lost love before he dies. The alternating timelines keep the mystery fresh, as each new revelation uncovers what really happened between the two, as well as what would happen with the fate of their families. This intriguing structure, along with excellent writing, and stunning sets and costumes, make Cigarette Girl a compelling show to watch.

A Round of Applause is just so darn weird. We’ve seen stories about people remembering their past lives, but we’ve never seen them able to recall and yearn for their life as pulp in an orange, of all things. We’ve seen fetuses as characters, but we’ve never seen them as a neurotic chainsmoker, tugging at the umbilical cord in complaint. These strange, existential ideas get to amusingly absurd paths, leading to punchlines that aren’t expected but pulls out unexpected laughter while making us contemplate the lives we’re currently living. Even if the offbeat humor isn’t to your taste, A Round of Applause just feels so original that it’s worth a look.

Revenge stories are always fun, especially if you have someone like Jella Haase (who plays the titular spy Kleo) to helm them. Haase switches from scorned to spritely with such ease, making the otherwise formulaic plot of the show a breeze to watch. The disguises, the getaways, the killings, and the chase are all expected but nonetheless enjoyable in this show. 

If you’re looking for the next Killing Eve, this just might be it. Aside from the leads’ cheerfully deadly ways, the two shows also share the similarity of having enemies obsessing with each other, resulting in a cat-and-mouse chase that’s hard to peel your eyes off from. 

Mexico City, 1970. Héctor Belascoarán leaves his stable office job and beautiful (but unhappy) marriage to pursue the adrenaline-filled life of a private detective. The police are useless, Héctor points out, not to mention corrupt and often in on the crime, so it’s up to him to tackle the many unsolved cases that haunt the city he loves.

Because he thinks himself a hero, Héctor narrates each episode in that nostalgic noir way, but the catch is that he is, in fact, no slick savior. Hector is still a rookie, prone to blunders and miscalculations, but his perseverance saves the day. In this way Belascoarán, PI is both a tribute and a sendup of detective films of yore; it references the genre in style and substance, but it isn’t above joking about it either. It’s proof that you can challenge viewers without sacrificing the laughs, and vice versa.

Like the biopics of other musicians, Love After Music tracks the life of Argentine rock-and-roll musician Fito Páez. From his beginnings as a band keyboardist in 1977 to his 1993 solo concert for UNICEF, the mini-series delves into the themes and inspiration that drive his work through eight episodes. As Páez performs, the series flips between the song being sung and related flashbacks from Páez’s life, implying how Páez feels through images instead of dialogue. This approach can feel confusing at times, but it makes this account of his life a more personal and experiential biopic. Fans of the Latin Grammy Lifetime Awardee would most likely enjoy this series, however, for audiences unfamiliar with the singer, like myself, it’s still an interesting series to watch.

“This is a work of fantasy but to fantasize is to be human.” This quote is placed at the beginning of Creature, a passion project brought to life by writer-director Cagan Irmak, now available on Netflix. Inspired by Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Irmak reimagines the monster resurrection concept without sticking to closely to the original plot points, crafting a narrative that jumps back and forth between two separate timelines – the past, with Ziya’s rise in medical experimentation, and the present, with the titular creature rescuing a dying man. It makes for a historical drama that may not be as horrific as the original, but is no less intriguing in its themes.

Stories about cults have fascinated viewers because of how absurd their ideas can get… And how easy these ideas can lure in lost and broken people. Plenty of these cults tend to stick with ideas that sound similar with the world’s major religions, but not many claim to be able to clone humans. Raël: The Alien Prophet plays out like the regular cult playbook, with a regular man suddenly amassing riches, power, and fame through charisma, and abusing his followers to obtain more, but the show keeps the viewers’ interest by primarily focusing on what sets the movement apart: the aliens and the human cloning.

Not to be mistaken with the American animated series, Big Mouth is titled the way it is not because of raunchy banter between its characters, but because the lawyer protagonist Park Chang-ho spouts big talk without having the means to back it up. It’s because of this unusual characterization that makes it such an unusual crime thriller, with wildly unpredictable turns that got so many viewers guessing and that the showrunners clearly had fun playing around with, with every terribly unlucky direction Park ends up taking. That being said, while its set-up was so exciting, Big Mouth is much like its protagonist in that the series promised a big story, but winded up with an underwhelming finale that didn’t meet expectations. Even so, Big Mouth is a hilariously intense, if a bit nonsensical, ride, especially for fans of the cast here.

Rap music originated in the African American community, but internationally, there are local music industries diving into the genre, including countries in Africa as well. Kenyan music drama Volume puts theirs on the spotlight, through up-and-coming artist Benja trying to make his way. But the show isn’t just about a musician’s dream– it’s about the crew that surrounds him too. There’s his friend Castillo whose crime and influencer girlfriend can make or break his career. And there’s his girlfriend Lucy, who’s torn between her support and her religious family. Writer-director Tosh Gitonga balances their respective subplots well, able to maintain its watchability through its understanding of the stakes. Volume might be a familiar story, but it’s still an entertaining watch, because it understands how this dream can be tough to reach coming from a rough neighborhood, and how tough it can be to keep this dream pure and unadulterated.

Following the success of the Aníkúlápó movie, Netflix Naija has followed up the fantasy film with a sequel series, Rise of the Spectre. Like the original film, it showcases Yoruba culture with its excellent production design, and incorporates some familiar fantastical elements, like Saro’s resurrection. The premise is also pretty interesting, as it directly deals with the spiritual consequences of the first film. However, the show has less of the resurrection powers being used, with less time seeing the fantastical crow that grants Saro’s powers, and more time dedicated to dialogue heavy scenes that are tough to follow without watching the first film. Aníkúlápó: Rise of the Spectre has less of the fantasy we hoped to see.