The 100 Best Miniseries of All-Time

Bollywood is the biggest film industry in the world, in terms of output. After all, the Indian film industry churns out 700-800 films per year. Because of sheer output, there are plenty of excellent hidden gems from the South Asian country, some of which we try to cover here in A Good Movie to Watch. However, for a fairly comprehensive introduction to the industry, the English-language miniseries The Romantics is a great place to start. There’s no better filmmaker to take notes from other than Yash Raj Chopra, whose media conglomerate shifted the industry for the past 50 years, so the show tackles his legacy through archival footage and interviews from India’s current roster of film stars. Footage of his films alone are already a compelling watch, but director Smriti Mundra keeps an excellent balance between these films’ personal impact, as well as the corresponding political and film history in which his works were released to. It’s an excellent introduction to the colorful and rich film history of India.

The Fall of the House of Usher isn’t an exact one-to-one television adaptation of the titular short story. Instead, the original story from Edgar Allan Poe is used as a frame to introduce a whole Succession-like miniseries, with names and subplots coming from other stories from Poe. Because of this, fans of the author might feel disappointed at the lack of old gothic flair, as the story is set a whole century and a half after, and the tone shifts as the show shifts from character to character. However, Mike Flanagan’s whole ensemble still proves to be entertaining as the Usher family deals with sci-fi mishaps, internal sabotage, and a possible supernatural element haunting the whole brood.

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.

With a film version that didn’t live up to the hype of the original novel, Netflix’s adaptation of One Day released just in time to wreck the fans’ hearts all over again, but this time, it’s a good thing. The expanded runtime allowed Netflix to delve more into the moments in the novel, with each episode dedicated to a day in the year in Emma’s and Dexter’s lives, contrasting their respective worlds and opportunities available to them as different members of London society. And the couple is played beautifully by Leo Woodall and Ambika Mod, with a believable chemistry that isn’t formed in a single spark, but made in multiple moments. If you’re needing a good cry just right before Valentine’s Day, One Day is a superb slow burn romance to let those tears out.

Despite the abundance of true crime dramas, A Friend of the Family stands out because of how effectively frustrating (and, at times, nauseating) it is to watch. Broberg is abducted more than once in plain sight, and during the investigation of her case, officers encounter dark secrets and sick twists made even more unbelievable by how seemingly perfect the families involved are. Of course, the shocking true events are one thing, but the way they’re told by creator Nick Antosca and reenacted by a stellar cast that includes Anna Paquin, Colin Hanks, and Jake Lacy transform the horrifying true story into a disturbing work of art. Completing the picture is the show’s commitment to replicating the era as accurately as possible. Everything from the title cards, needle drops, costume, and color grading works to immerse you into the distinct world of 70s suburbia. Even the Peacock symbol was given the 70s treatment, which says something about the show’s dedication to the minutest details.

British period dramas usually tend to fall under two categories: traditional or contemporary. The former risks being boring while the latter risks being obnoxious. Vanity Fair, the miniseries, thankfully falls somewhere in the middle. It sticks to the source by presenting Emma Sharpe as an unapologetic social climber, but expounds her character so that we sympathize with her circumstances. Of course she’s cunning, she has to be in order to survive. Of course she’s a flirt, she wasn’t raised to be as conservative as her contemporaries. Because of updates like these, the series feels invigorating and refreshing to watch, even though rags-to-riches and princess-and-the-pauper-like stories have been told many times. Often, it veers towards soapy territory, but it’s nonetheless fun and exciting (and sparkly for avid gown fans!) to watch.

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.

These days, pandemic stories can go either of two ways: horribly or profoundly. The realism may be too much to bear, causing so-called pandemic fatigue, or it can compel you to move in the world in kinder, more self-aware ways.

Thankfully, HBO’s overlooked Station Eleven falls under the latter category. Epic, poignant, and lighthearted, the ten-episode miniseries (adapted from the bestselling novel of the same name) is one of the few pandemic-set, post-apocalyptic shows that takes a closer look at the kind and creative ways humans approach survival.

The Dropout is an eight-part series about disgraced biotech entrepreneur Elizabeth Holmes, played here to eerie perfection by Amanda Seyfried. The show follows Holmes as she drops out of Stanford and pursues her dream to be rich and famous at any cost—even if it means swindling her way to the billion-dollar finish line.

With the facts of the case publicly available and a plethora of scammer shows already streaming on the internet, it’s a small miracle that The Dropout is still able to stand out as a compelling series. This is thanks in large part to Seyfried: she plays Holmes as a shaky, self-conscious, and hyper-ambitious magnate with little to no remorse, and it works. Even though Holmes is pretty much a cautionary household name at this point, The Dropout is still worth watching if only to see Seyfried’s thoughtful portrayal. 

This eight-part horror anthology is curated by the titular director, renowned as a trusted authority in telling tales of the Gothic and in creating wondrous practical creatures. So just like his work for films like Pan’s Labyrinth, The Shape of Water, and Hellboy, Cabinet of Curiosities is also filled with frightful beings ranging from reanimated corpses to bloodthirsty aliens—and should make for a staple Halloween binge. Aside from a star-studded cast, the series is also co-helmed by some noteworthy directors, including Jennifer Kent (The Babadook), Catherine Hardwicke (Twilight), and Ana Lily Amirpour (A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night).