50 Best PG-13 Movies on Netflix Right Now

Between the film’s non-existent marketing and Hollywood’s ongoing writers’ strike, I knew not to expect much from Heart of Stone, Netflix’s latest direct-to-streaming outing. And sure enough, the spy thriller proved to be a mediocre watch. The plot is facile and generic, another one of those attempts at justifying AI and government data breaches. The acting is subpar, which is expected from the ever-stoic Gal Gadot. About the only good thing you can say about it is that it has entertaining action sequences. Gadot is precise and terrifying, a stunt wonder made for the genre. Now if only the acting matched the action, then maybe the film wouldn’t feel as plain and wooden. 

Parenting is hard by itself, but it’s moreso hard when done alone, especially if there was supposed to be a partner alongside the journey. Thank You, I’m Sorry depicts this through Sara, who has to deal with her husband’s absence and difficulties in connecting with her husband’s family in his stead, on top of her pregnancy, but it’s her connection with her estranged sister Linda that can make or break her journey. The dynamic between the sisters is what drives the film. Sanna Sundqvist and Charlotta Björck manage to depict the strained yet clearly loving relationships naturally, and it’s lovely to see the mundane ways they reestablish their bond. It’s a unique story, though it does feel rushed and some of the humor can be totally off-putting.

The Beautiful Game starts off with a hilarious, brilliantly written opening sequence that should have set the tone for the film. Then almost immediately, we’re met with some shoddy writing, and in a strange way, that is what sets the tone for the film, instead. This film presents the story of the Homeless World Cup and how it empowers those who feel they have no direction, and so naturally we want to feel their triumph. But the film seems to want to cross over the jovial and wholesome line and deeper into the characters’ struggles, and while some characters only need a glimpse of it, it generally comes across like a jarring lack of commitment. The film isn’t carrying home any writing gold, but it’s not really about winning, is it?

As much as the Alabama-bred stand-up comic doesn’t fit into the stereotype of someone with an online presence, Dusty Slay’s comedy special can’t help but feel like you’re scrolling through the Twitter feed of someone’s funny but incoherent (and most likely high) thoughts. There isn’t much connective tissue to be found in Workin’ Man, which doesn’t necessarily weaken his jokes—many of which are actually these amusing, absurd observations on everyday life—but definitely makes all the little silences feel much longer, and leaves you looking for some sort of primary theme to really bring the show home. Still, the fact that a self-proclaimed stoner is actually this normal and unassuming (as opposed to a few other comics who can get dark and aggressive with their drug-related content) is pretty refreshing, all things considered.

For the entirety of Where Was I, Trevor Noah is comfortably in his pocket—speaking to an audience that’s clearly familiar with his style and his views (if the respectful silences and occasional cheering are any indication) and branching off into sharing more serious facts between the jokes. And Noah’s style is clearly refined, as he speaks clearly and sticks to a coherent structure at all times. But at a certain point his level of comfort here also leads to punchlines that are too easy or unsurprising, with too much focus placed on the kinds of voices and accents he can put on rather than the content of what he’s saying. Noah remains a strong entertainer, but when you know how scathing he can get, this feels more like a warmup round.

This is a nostalgic, ethereal memory like a childhood yearning, which can be credited to the soundtrack and friendly characters. Its got a lovely message about unspoken or repressed feelings, but the journey there unravels quickly. The second act enters filler side quest territory and loses the energetic pace and tight direction of the exposition. In the end, the premise and pretty visuals feel almost wasted on an ill-paced bloated story, one that tries to capture a wistfulness or magic but ends up feeling forced and manufactured. This is one of those movies you wish was the first movie you ever watched as a child. You won’t have a clue what it was about, but you’ll remember it was nice.

In most instances, Rez Ball isn’t all that different from traditional sports dramas. It features a down-on-their-luck high school basketball team–the Chuska Warriros– that gets better through sheer perseverance and teamwork. But as the title suggests, the Warriors play a slightly different kind of game. Rez Ball, according to the film, is faster and more points-focused. And the way the film lets the players (and us, the audience) learn about it by connecting the team with Navajo culture and practices is ingenious. As an intimate showcase of rez life, the film shines. But as a drama, it falters. The acting is rusty and uneven (though shoutout to Devin Sampson-Craig and first-timer Kauchani Bratt for getting it right), and the direction feels similarly wooden. The film is a promising entry, it just needs more time and polishing to be great.

I’m sure the novel Uglies is based on makes a lot more sense since it has a lot of space to world-build and explore themes like external beauty, class, and identity. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about the movie Uglies, which is almost impressively out of date in look and tone. The CGI is 2000s-level wonky and the premise is unconvincing. You’re telling me these Hollywood kids are supposed to be ugly? So ugly that they’re nicknamed after their defects— “Nose,” “Skinny,” and “Squint”? What would they call normal-looking people like us? Slurs? And don’t get me started on their “pretty” versions. It’s literally just them with layers of makeup and a touch of Botox, which I suppose could be the point, but also…just wear makeup? It’s mind-numbingly confusing. The world of the Uglies doesn’t even seem that bad—they’re fed, roomed, allowed to explore their environment, and create friendships. A lot of people in the real world would kill for that level of comfort. If freethought is what’s being killed here, then they should have focused on that more. Ironically, the movie itself seems too preoccupied with looks to get that, so what we get instead is this half-baked mess.

Less homage to Star Wars than it is a pastiche of that cultural juggernaut, a strong sense of déjà vu hangs over Zack Snyder’s Rebel Moon. Unfortunately, in plainly appealing to the memory of its vastly superior inspiration so many times, it inadvertently reminds viewers of how much better its muse is. There are far too many direct copycat scenes here for Rebel Moon to craft anything like an identity of its own, but its derivativeness might be forgivable were it not so self-consciously, humorlessly straining for epicness.

Rebel Moon rises with narration from Anthony Hopkins and an operatic score — a promise of grandness it never lives up to. At two-hours-plus, this dreadnought announces its lofty ambitions for future franchise status at every turn, but never once earns it: the dialogue is creakingly expository and the acting is spotty, ultimately making it feel like the film has lazily assumed it’s already secured all the interest it needs to justify a potential two further sequels and a galaxy of tie-in media. Though there are bright spots that suggest an actual movie lurks somewhere deep within its 134 minutes, Rebel Moon instead feels like a laborious couple of hours of scene-setting that arrogantly banks on you returning for more, despite doing little to deserve any more of your time.

Sometimes, after a demanding work week, you want to watch a low-stakes, enjoyable movie with just enough plot to enjoy. Heist comedy Lift tries to be that film, with Kevin Hart as a smooth criminal who steals art in order to keep art from undeserving owners and improve the artist’s revenue from their work. It’s an interesting twist to the Robin Hood stereotype, one that could have hinted at concerns of screen artists last year when its release date was originally scheduled for. That being said, the film throws this idea away when Kevin Hart and his team are now forced to participate in a risky heist due to the Interpol. The events that play out amount to a fairly generic caper, but there are far better heist films to spend your weekend watching, with far better plots and stunts.