20 Best True-Story-Based Movies on Pluto TV Right Now

Abel Ferrara’s protagonists have always searched for higher meaning in a flawed, messed-up world of pain and violence. If 1992’s Bad Lieutenant took Harvey Keitel to church for one of American indie cinema’s most spectacular endings, Padre Pio doesn’t offer such solace. Ferrara (who’s been living and working in Rome for years now) teamed up with Italian screenwriter Maurizio Braucci to direct a period piece that brings together the real life of a Catholic Church saint (the titular Padre Pio) and the rise of socialism after WWI. What seems like a straightforward historical approach turns first gruesome and then profound to capture the contradictions at the heart of Italy as a nation. A character study that breaks free of its biographical chains, Padre Pio shows that Ferrara has still got it, 50 films in.

The 2008 film Doubt offers a haunting peek into the crisis of pedophilia within the Catholic church. Featuring an all-star cast of Amy Adams,  Philip Seymour Hoffman, Meryl Streep and Viola Davis, it is more than just a fictional tale. With performances that will make you question your intuition and cast a shadow of doubt on your own instincts, Doubt is a difficult film to grapple with. 

I fell in love with this film very early on into the duration of it because it was so honest and it allowed the characters to navigate the nature of their suspicions. With Doubt, however, comes denial, and Viola Davis’s eight-minute monologue is simply smeared with it. Doubt is a fantastic story that has left me stunned for over a decade. 

Shakespeare is a classic, not just because of the tales it adapts, but because of the innovation he made in the English language. Because of this, not every film adaptation gets this aspect right, but the one that gets the closest was Kenneth Branaugh’s Henry V in 1989. With his beginnings in theater, Branaugh steadies his directorial debut with the strength of the performances, including his own in the title role, which incorporates the language in a more accessible way. Younger viewers might prefer the straightforward prose of the latest iteration of Henry V, but Shakespeare purists would surely prefer this classic adaptation, the very debut that led Kenneth Branagh to be best known for Shakespeare adaptations.

War Witch is depressing to watch. Having to choose between killing your parents yourself versus having them killed in a worse fashion by someone else is a cruel selection no child deserves to make, and War Witch poses that selection literally within the first five minutes, inspired by the real life recruitment mechanisms of child soldiers in Africa. But what makes the film still worth watching is the way writer-director Kim Nguyen focuses on how, despite everything, Komona clings to her humanity, albeit through the supernatural vision manifesting from a mix of hallucinogens and grief. War Witch won’t be an easy watch for most viewers, but it’s a unique story that has to be told, and we’re glad Nguyen rose up to the task.

At first glance, The Madness of King George seemed like a history lesson about King George III. Like plenty of British royalty dramas, the film has all the opulent trappings in its sets and costumes, as well as some of the best actors from the British isles. However, unlike other depictions of the monarchy, the film depicts the king not as a benevolent ruler or oppressive tyrant– instead, King George III is terribly human, with his memory failing, being unsettled by loss, and concern over his health, which involves having to look at his urine. But the historical satire, based on the 1991 stage play, still manages to have the same mockery towards the opportunistic court, while still retaining sympathy for the very nobility it mocks, through original playwright Alan Bennett’s adept writing, as well as the excellent performance of the stacked ensemble cast.

We mostly think of objects as just stuff to buy, to sell, to give, and to throw away, but for many musicians, their instruments are quite important to them. The Red Violin takes it to the extreme– with the titular instrument infused with the life force of a human– but the film justifies this passion, the pain, and the cost through one of the most beautiful violin scores ever made, and through an ambitious series of vignettes spanning across four centuries and five countries. As the object passes hands, and the owners live, and play, and die, The Red Violin suggests that while these artists’ lives are fleeting, there’s still something human and important in chasing the sublime, and this instrument is just proof of it.

Shattered Glass tells the unbelievably true story of Stephen Glass, a popular and promising young journalist at The New Republic. Stephen’s storytelling skills are sought out not just by his admiring colleagues but by other publications as well, so when a rival journalist from Forbes finds holes in one of Stephen’s stories, no one takes the accusation seriously at first—except perhaps for Charles Lane, Stephen’s editor. Immune to Stephen’s charms, Charles digs for the truth and tries, despite an alarming lack of support, to pursue what’s right.

Set in the ’90s, Shattered Glass may be a throwback to old-school journalism, but its ideas about the integrity of facts still hold water, especially in an age fraught with rampant disinformation.

In this day and age, it thankfully has become less risky to come out as gay, due to the struggle of many LGBTQ+ people from the past. However, this struggle was hard won– while gay people were persecuted in the Nazi regime, it was only until decades later people started to discuss it, and one reason why research and education about it increased was due to the play Bent, depicted in film in 1997. The screen version admittedly falters compared to the West End original, with static staging and focus on the dialogue over action, but the performances are fairly decent, with an unexpected collection of cast members that maximize each moment they’re in. It’s quite depressing, and sometimes heavy handed, but Bent is a needed perspective.

Artists take what’s intimate and personal and transform it into art, but, especially for those who became famous for their work, it can feel challenging to tackle certain subjects, profit from it, and make it part and parcel of your artistic identity, especially when it stems from personal trauma. Things Behind the Sun depicts a rock singer who became famous on her song about rape. It’s a tad harrowing, and the flashbacks get rather graphic, but through focusing primarily on Sherry’s journey and not forcing forgiveness between the characters, Things Behind the Sun is able to capture what it means to survive the horrible, to confront it again, and to actually heal.

When we elect people to power, they usually promise some sort of change that their constituents like, but given the nature of democracy, some places might like certain changes while others bear the brunt of the shaft. Brassed Out is specifically based on the privitization of British Coal in the 90s, so the context can be lost for younger viewers outside the nation. But it’s this specificity that grounds the film, as writer-director Mark Herman clearly lays down the real life stakes these coal miners had to face– the loss of livelihood, purpose, and community. Of course, this makes the film full of anger, making its slang title quite fitting. Sometimes, this pushes certain moments to clunky exposition. However, Brassed Out directs that stirring emotion for the common good, reminding us about the real people that faced these sweeping changes.