20 Best Shows on BritBox Right Now

This excellent British detective drama is from Sally Wainwright, writer and creator of Happy Valley. It premiered back in 2011 and now has five seasons to dive into for an extended binge.

Rachel Bailey and Janet Scott are two murder-unit detectives in Manchester, England. The show is as much about their cases as it is about their friendship and lives. In the first episode, while Rachel Bailey investigates the alleged suicide of a Turkish immigrant, she’s also investigating her ex-partner, who suspiciously broke up with her and moved away.

It’s packed with the buddy-cop genre, which admittedly has been overdone in British TV. But who knew the solution to making something feel completely fresh is as easy as having the buddies be two women.

As the real-life British politician John Stonehouse who, among other things, served as a spy for Czechoslovakia and faked his own death, Matthew Macfadyen is incredibly funny. He owns the role of the bumbling fool, a master at inducing laughs and sympathy at the same time. And with Stonehouse, he has endless material. The man is narcissistic and power-hungry, but he also has a habit of biting off more than he can chew, so seeing him stumble in his lies is both funny and tragic to watch. If I can use another metaphor—watching Stonehouse is like watching a train power through despite falling off the rails. It’s a wreck to be sure, but one you can’t quite peel your eyes from.

Another great thing about Stonehouse? It only has three (concise but jam-packed) episodes. So if you’re looking for a one-day binge, this might just be it.

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.

Before he was a beloved TV star, comedian Alan Carr was a young boy growing up in a small town not quite ready for his shine. In Changing Ends, he takes us through that childhood, which is sometimes sweet, sometimes tough, but always comfortingly, relatably hilarious. By appearing in it and addressing us, present-day Carr ran the risk of being cheeky, explanatory, self-indulgent, and jarring—the 1980s setting is nice and nostalgic, why ruin it?—but his presence surprisingly works. It’s interesting to see the differences and lasting similarities between Young Carr and Old Carr. The former is naive and unrelentingly himself while the latter is worldly and reflective, and also unrelentingly himself. You don’t have to know who Carr is to enjoy this short but sweet entry (I certainly didn’t), you only have to recall that time in your life when you first started growing into yourself—how simultaneously awkward, painful, and exhilarating it felt.

Des is a miniseries that understands viewers have had about enough with serial killers and true crime. Aware of the fatigue, it skillfully compresses the stories of Des’ multiple victims into three taut episodes without ever feeling forced or too much. The subject of Des’ sexuality (he expresses a fondness for men but never officially came out) is also sensitively handled. Des’ biographer in the series, who is an out-gay writer, makes a valid point: better he tells Des’ story no matter how terrifying than someone else outside of the community. Who knows what false and demonizing correlations will be made? But just as big a chunk of the series is rightly focused on the two detectives desperately seeking justice for the victims. Though they can seem holier-than-thou at times because of the lack of characterization, they, too, ask the right questions about justice and rightful punishment. It may be too talky for some viewers, but there’s no denying Des is a smart show, one bolstered by strong performances.

A hilarious British sitcom about 24-year-old Tracey Gorden, a shop assistant living in a housing estate in London with unusual friends and an even more unusual family.

A bit messed up by a very religious upbringing, she navigates adulthood and trying to untangle herself from the unexciting life her neighbourhood offers (mainly by trying to lose her virginity).

Michaela Coel wrote and created the show and plays Tracey. Her expressive facial expressions and fantastic ability to convey her character make for an incredibly original show. Taking originality as a factor, this is possibly the best sitcom on Netflix right now.

Actor Chris O’Dowd had a special childhood growing up in rural Ireland. So he wrote, created, and starred in this sitcom based on his experiences. He plays his childhood imaginary friend.

Moone Boy is a funny and easy show, winner of an Emmy for Best Comedy in 2013 when it first aired. The setting in the late 80s makes everything better.

This five-part BBC drama is a seemingly simple story of a woman who suspects her husband of infidelity. But, being crafted by a playwright, Mike Bartlett, the straightforward premise is falsely disarming and is quickly exploited into a much more complicated and dark story.

The lead character, Gemma, is played to jaw-dropping perfection by Broadcasting Press Guild and BAFTA-winning actor Suranne Jones.

While eschewing protocol is often rewarded in Hollywood films, in real life, this act can cost you your career, especially if you’re in the force like Detective Superintendent Steve Fulcher (Freeman). A Confession tells two stories, essentially, that of Fulcher’s legal entanglements after he successfully got a serial killer to confess without representation, and that of Sian and Becky, the slain victims in Fulcher’s case. Though the series is slow to start (it only picks up by the end of the second episode), it’s buoyed by fantastic performances and genuinely thought-provoking questions, the main one being, how far would you go to pursue justice?

The titular cleaner, Wicky (Greg Davies), is a simple man who serves as a foil to the eccentric people he meets in each episode. Sometimes, he’s cleaning up after a murderous suburban wife, other times, he’s helping fake a crime for an egocentric influencer. Always, Wicky and the show find the humorous and humane threads in these bizarre moments. Despite all the blood and gore, it’s a deeply comforting show, the sort that reaffirms your faith in humanity and its capacity for kindness—all in less than 30 minutes.