100 Best Movies on Kanopy Right Now

Labyrinth is a fantasy film starring a young Jennifer Connelly as Sarah Williams, a teenager who wishes her infant brother away to the goblins. Immediately regretting her decision, she pleads to the Goblin King, played by David Bowie, for his safe return. He agrees, but only on the condition that she escapes his massive, trap-filled labyrinth. Connelly is charming as a young woman learning an important lesson in family and appreciation, while Bowie is dazzling as a maniacal ruler, but the film’s true magic comes from the puppets that populate the labyrinth. They’re the handiwork of director Jim Henson, the man famously behind the Muppets and Dark Crystal universe. Labyrinth stands the test of time thanks to the intricate designs of the goblin world and the lively movements of the puppets. In an era where CGI reigns supreme, and AI threatens to smooth out hard work, Labyrinth is proof that there’s beauty to be found in the fine, hand-crafted details.

Comparison to the latest adaptation aside, there’s plenty to enjoy from the 1978 version of Death on the Nile. For one, the cast is stacked– Maggie Smith, Angela Lansbury, Bette Davis, Mia Farrow, and Jane Birkin join Peter Ustinov in his first stint as the detective Hercule Poirot. And for another, as Poirot goes through his murder investigation, the humorous script allows the cast to shine. The combination, along with the Academy Award winning costumes, spectacular locations and great cinematography, made this adaptation an enjoyable one. Death on the Nile might not live up to Murder on the Orient Express, but nonetheless it was a fun time seeing these stars suspect each other in this riverside cruise.

It’s possible that this kid’s cartoon mostly stayed under the radar because of its commercial performance and less than fluid animation, but The Last Unicorn is nonetheless a good film to watch. The film follows the titular unicorn on an adventure to find the rest of her kind and rescue them from the evil Red Bull. The premise seems to be a regular ol’ children’s tale, but the film delves into deeper themes of altruism, love, and community as the unicorn meets quirky, offbeat characters voiced spectacularly by Mia Farrow, Alan Arkin, Jeff Bridges, Angela Lansbury, and Christopher Lee, among others. The Last Unicorn is a magical tale, one that might not have the best animation, but has a compelling art style and story to enjoy.

Frankly, the characters of In The House are in dire need for some therapy after the events of the film. A high school teacher takes an interest into one of his student’s writings, which turns out to be his fantasies of another student’s perfect family, and they end up to be further linked in even stranger ways, to say the least. But as the plot progresses, the film unfolds into a deep meditation of art, with each character serving as either the creator or the admirer, and representing how both can use it to see reality or to dream about another one. The direction is a surprising way to go about it, but the tension and the cast’s excellent performances drive the story to a much more exciting place.

Films about drug dealing aren’t particularly new, but the way Pusher delves into their lives feels different– more realistic than glamorous, somewhat like a guerrilla documentary, with the handheld camera as a silent, unnamed witness. As the camera follows low-level dealer Frank through the course of a week, Kim Bodnia skillfully garners empathy with the way he holds himself through the pressure, and does the opposite when he does the same wrongs that were done to him. The story itself may be simple, but writer-director Nicolas Winding Refn made his mark through this debut, inadvertently creating a franchise and influencing Danish cinema.

After a long life lived in a home one chose, it can be hard to uproot your entire life, especially in a country that seems diametrically opposed in manners and values. Before his American produced hits like Brokeback Mountain and Life of Pi, Ang Lee made his debut through Pushing Hands, a film entirely shot in America but produced from Taiwan, exploring from the Chinese perspective the generational conflict between Asian immigrants and the mainlander parents that they brought to have a good life. It’s humorous at certain moments, with the steady demeanor of Chu contrasted to everyone around him, but Pushing Hands stems from the understanding of someone who’s directly lived through it, unfolding into a thoughtful, sentimental drama that quickly established Lee’s directorial voice.

As an adaptation of the one-character play, it’s a delight to see Pauline Collins as Shirley Valentine rip into the signature monologue through fourth wall breaks– ranting, bantering, and raving to us about the unique follies of mundane domesticity. Collin maintains the same comedic timing and wittiness of the titular character that has captivated Liverpool, and then London, at the time. However, while critics found it easy to dismiss the script as a series of superficial, stagy ramblings, Valentine genuinely searches for life purpose, for herself, for her soul, confronting her younger aspirations, the box she was essentially crammed into due to marriage expectations, and the life that she sacrificed for family’s sake. Shirley Valentine may not have gotten the acclaim succeeding female mid-life crisis films have gotten, but it’s an underrated classic comedy that many can enjoy.

When plucked out of your cushy, city life to labor on rural farmlands, it’s a tough change. It would have been a terrible one for Luo Min and Ma Jianling, if it wasn’t for Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress. Rather than depict this transfer policy as pure drudgery, the film depicts it as somewhat of a nostalgic summer romance in warm-tone shots and casual slice-of-life moments inspired by the semi-autobiographical novella written by writer-director Dai Sijie himself. It probably felt that way to his generation as well. But make no mistake. Sijie subtly pokes fun at the censorship the ways teenagers would do, that is, by saying what adults would like them to say, but doing exactly what they were told not to, anyway. That being said, there is a bit of a Western bias here– the banned books are Western, after all, and the two boys sharing French embroidery and sewing patterns seemed to be a strange plot point– but Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress warmly depicts his generation without losing sight of the drastic changes they had to go through.

Going deep undercover, integrating one’s self into a group without any suspicion, and passing out information to another party… That’s the job of a mole. While they mostly lurk in various government agencies, laboratories, and other special circles of power, The Mole Agent instead goes deep undercover in a Chilean retirement home, having stakes that may not be world-ending, but take more personal, domestic weight as Sergio befriends the residents, records and reports on their well-being, and tries to figure out what exactly Romulo wants as evidence. It’s a funny situation, one that depicts the resident home with warmth, albeit with the occasional spy cams and an old-fashioned piano score, but it can be difficult to figure out where the line is between truth and fiction, as some scenes can feel a bit staged. Still, The Mole Agent is a charming portrait of old age, made so compelling with director Maite Alberdi’s unusual perspective.

Look, Wolf has a familiar, even cliché, plot. The idea of having a lead wanting to shift their life around through kickboxing is the usual stuff of cheesy sports dramas that want more viewers to watch the matches, or to learn to play the sport. But rather than take this path, Wolf instead delves into the other reasons why people might want to join the sport in its story– the money, the physical venting of frustration, and making use of skills. It’s also why, for Majid, the passion proves to falter in the face of his character. His loyalty to others, his spite, and the unresolved anger he holds paints a literally black-and-white picture of what inevitably pushes him to the film’s end. Wolf is familiar, yes, but it takes this plot to a different place that Dutch cinema doesn’t usually visit.