50 Best PG-13 Movies on Netflix Right Now

An innocent-fun movie, Always Be My Maybe is a lovely thing to turn your brain off to. Sasha and Marcus are high-school best friends who dated briefly and went their separate ways. 16 years later, they meet again – Sasha is a famous chef, and Marcus is still living with his dad.

What really makes this movie is the writing from Ali Wong and Randall Park, who also play the two leads. The dialogue is sharp, believable and smart – going as far as covering themes of gender and parenting. But also, because a rom-com about two Asians from San Francisco is not exactly a common occurrence, the characters are fresh, the jokes are fresh – everything is fresh.

Watch out for the character who plays Marcus’ dad, he plays the character of an overly honest Korean dad perfectly. And also watch out for Keanu Reeves, he plays a crazy version of himself!

History is rife with marriages made for practical alliance, but the ones that are more memorable are the ones made hand-in-hand with true love. Jodhaa Akbar may not start out with love at first sight, but director Ashutosh Gowariker reimagines the titular couple of the Mughal Empire with all the production value and all the slow-paced, step-by-step building of a romance that strengthened the kingdom. With Hrithik Roshan and Aishwarya Rai Bachchan slashing their swords in place of flirting, Jodhaa Akbar transforms historical fact into a captivating epic romance, even though the film is quite long, and the accuracy is slightly dubious.

Big George Foreman ticks all the boxes of what a biopic should be. It shows us his troubled childhood, his bumpy rise to the top, and his eventual reconciliation with fame and boxing. It’s also nicely shot and polished, an accurately dressed period piece that looks and feels the part. But nothing about the film hits you as particularly new or exciting. Prickly topics like faith and infidelity aren’t so much explored as they are simply covered, and the dialogue sounds like something you’ve heard a thousand times. There’s also a sense that the filmmakers noticed this problem because halfway through, the movie switches into a more lighthearted tone, as if it were suddenly bored of itself. Sure, Big George Foreman is easy to follow and nice to look at, but its formulaic structure fails to distinguish itself from a long and ever-growing line of sports biopics.

Unfrosted is the kind of bonkers treat filled with movie references, physical gags, and too-many-to-count stars that’s easy to sink your teeth into and enjoy for what it is—in the beginning, that is. It’s helped by snappy visuals and a colorfully accurate rendering of the ‘60s too. But then it wears you down with the same jokes and flimsy story, until eventually, you can’t help but ask: are you really dedicating an hour and a half of your life to watching *check notes* a Pop Tart get made? The filmmakers don’t make it any deeper than that sounds, sadly, even though there’s more drama and flavor involved in the real-life competition between Post and Kellogs. I’m not saying Unfrosted is a bad film—to be honest, I laughed out loud in many parts—just that you won’t be able to get over how overbudgeted and ultimately hollow it is.

Pushing an already extreme activity even further beyond its limits, Ueli Steck and Dani Arnold have became the world champions of speed climbing—a variation of the sport that places much greater importance on direct competition over communing with nature. It’s fascinating to hear what drives Steck and Arnold to courting death like this, and to see how their vastly different backgrounds and processes have still made them equals in the field. The documentary eventually runs out of ideas, however, as it clumsily shifts tones leading into its last third, and concludes abruptly without much synthesis of everything that had come before. It’s still a worthwhile adventure whether or not one is into climbing; it’s just disappointing that this story of such a unique rivalry settles into a more generic rhythm by the end.

If you’re expecting a twisty and thrilling look at a dangerous group of hackers who hide deep within a military bunker in Europe, and who refer to their entire operation as “straight from a James Bond movie,” then you might be disappointed with Cyberbunker, a dragging documentary that relies too heavily on talking heads for momentum. It takes 30 minutes to establish the relevance of these figures, and a full hour before it finally explains the actual crime and wrongdoings they’re complicit in. The most interesting parts of the case, like the FBI’s involvement, Cyberbunker’s links to the propagation of child pornography, and the group’s advocacy on internet privacy, are completely buried beneath a stack of unnecessary tidbits. I appreciate the effort of the filmmakers and the interviewees coming together to make something decently informative, but by the end of it, you’re left wondering whether all this was better off as a Wikipedia article.

An unsung hero of the civil rights movement gets the customary Oscar bait treatment in this biopic. Though he was instrumental in organizing the historic March on Washington — which helped force the US government to enshrine civil rights — gay Black activist Bayard Rustin isn’t the household name his peers are. In an inversion of that narrative, figures like Martin Luther King appear here as supporting characters to Colman Domingo’s Bayard.

Domingo’s energetic, commanding performance holds the center of the film, but he’s ill-served by the formulaic approach to storytelling that unfolds around him. More than a few scenes feel like they were written, directed, and performed with an eye to making awards ceremony clips, giving the film a disjointed, self-aware air. And yet, for all the limits of its by-the-numbers approach, Rustin does manage to pack in glints of insight. By virtue of who he was, Bayard will never not make for a compelling central figure — so even lackluster filmmaking can’t sap this inherently radical material of all its power. Though not without its flaws, then, the film is valuable for the light it sheds on the polarising effect Bayard’s identity as a gay Black man had within the movement and the intersectional depths he nevertheless brought to it. 

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.

Two people with different thoughts on love discover a common ground: they’re both anti-romantics. Realizing they got off on the wrong foot, they spend more time with each other and bond over realistic ideas of modern love. At one point, Maria (Rosalie Thomass) and Karl (Laurence Rupp) even diss romantic comedies for their cheesy music and naive understanding of fate and destiny. Their conversations are engaging and thoughtful, even and especially when they oppose one another. But just when you think you’re watching something smart and novel, Maria and Karl fall into the same implausible trappings they claim to hate. Suddenly, the film turns soft and transforms into the romantic comedy it once criticized. If only it had pushed into anti-romance territory even further and allowed Maria and Karl to truly hash out their differences, thorns and tension and all, then this could have been a truly interesting romantic film. Instead, it’s a standard romantic comedy that’s worse off for pretending to be above the genre, even though it’s really not.

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?