100 Best TV-MA TV Shows on Netflix Right Now

Based on a novel, The Lying Life of Adults might feel, at first, like a standard Netflix coming-of-age series, complete with vintage styling (the 90’s, this time) and teenage shenanigans, like skipping classes, preoccupation over sex, and rebelling against parental disapproval. Sure, the show does go through these moments, but the writing of original novelist Elena Ferrante, with the assistance of the writing team and showrunner Edoardo De Angelis, elevates this template through its subtleties, as Giovanna visits her estranged aunt Vittoria, and compares and contrasts the way she lives, with the way her parents approach life. It’s both a portrait of a divided family, but also one of a divided city, and it makes Giovanna’s coming-of-age a more nuanced journey that we haven’t seen before.

From the fantasy-powered folktales to superhero-like depictions, ninjas have captivated the world, but seem to be a relic of the past, with modern day warfare and weaponry turning them obsolete. House of Ninjas imagines a world where ninjas still exist, centering a clan stuck between wanting to abandon the old ways but also having skills that seem wasted in contemporary life. Because of this, the show at first seems boring– the family is severely demotivated, with some members acting out through petty theft, and with out-of-place jazzy musical tracks that undercut the action of the first few episodes. However, House of Ninjas gets better as the Tawara clan gets its act together, revealing the hidden heart each of them has for each other, one that’s been hidden because of the grief that struck the family. The show may be less action-packed than expected, but House of Ninjas comes across as an off-kilter family drama with just enough heart to work.

The first few minutes of The Tourist make it seem like a straight action thriller. It’s cool and gritty, with Jamie Dornan ably playing the role of strong but likable leading man. Then ever so subtly, it shifts its tone into something more playful and wholesome, then shifts back to dangerous territory. The back-and-forth feels jarring at first, almost like we’re seeing the show discover what it should be in real time. But eventually, it settles into a comfortable and confident rhythm, one that’s difficult not to watch. The funny bits are care of silly townie humor and that dry Australian wit, while most of the high-intensity action is thanks to Dornan (though he delivers amusing zingers too, especially when paired with Shalom Brune-Franklin). The Tourist seems designed to reel in broad viewers with different tastes, and it does just that thanks to its strong performances and nicely balanced tone.

Misunderstood by some at the time of its original release, this three-episode adaptation of Dracula from the creators of BBC’s Sherlock goes from being a highly satisfying slice of horror to something totally unrecognizable—which is why it’s so rewarding to revisit today. Blessed with stellar production design, incredible practical effects, and brilliant performances from a depraved Claes Bang (as the titular vampire) and an impossibly heroic Dolly Wells (Sister Agatha), the miniseries may take many liberties with the source material, but it always builds toward greater themes. And while some problems remain, like its rushed and tonally jarring finale, how the show is ultimately able to explore the distrust that Dracula leaves in his wake, as well as the nature of Dracula as a legend in himself, is well worth the binge.

After the success of Castlevania, it became apparent that there was a market for American anime– so Netflix teamed up with Powerhouse Animation Studios and the Greek-American Parlapanides Brothers to create Blood of Zeus. Claiming to be a tale “lost to history”, the show takes familiar strands of Greek mythos, such as demigod births, fantastical beings, and powerful gods, woven together through the journey of Heron as he sets out on a heroic quest. It’s a distinctly Western tale, but the epic battles, arena duels, and demonic hunts mixes well with Powerhouse’s animesque art style, creating a novel combination that feels fully original.

This series is fascinating and incredibly easy to root for. The premise itself comes from a well-intentioned place, and is an idea that can even justify filming as a TV show. The presentation packs a layer of dissonance between its often, dare I say, adorable tone and the gravity of the situation that these people are potentially in. It’s not something that I’d say adds to or takes away from the show, but it is something that’s always in the back of your mind when the interview bits get a little too dumb and funny. The idea of prisoners governing themselves reads like a recipe for disaster, so the tension is always there. But when you see a good chunk of them taking it seriously, it’s all you need to want to see the show through.

If you’re a fan of dialogue-driven, single-setting shows, this series is perfect for you. It revolves entirely around suspect interrogations and dynamics between detectives, which lead to 3 “storylines” per episode: (1) whether the suspect is guilty or not, (2) the characterization of the suspects, and, (3) the characterization of the detectives. The third storyline might be necessary to push the series up an extra notch, but it’s easily the least interesting part of the series. The show creates tension layer by layer, and it has a way of keeping its premise fresh each time; I’m not sure that this is a format you want to binge. But it’s also 3-4 episodes a season, so you might as well?

Dead Boy Detectives is as light fun as it sounds, but breezy it is not. Its case of the episode formula has fun, at times absurd premises that leads to satisfying conclusions, which makes it feel like a vibrant teen cartoon series. But so much of an episode is banter in the form of bloated dialogue that can go in one ear and quickly out the other. It’s colorful, cute, and quirky at times, and it’s easy to root for its energetic bits and seamless tying of threads; but all in all, watching one episode after another, it can feel unnecessarily dragged out for the kind of light mystery show that it is.

It’s a great concept because the influence of the media does create a lot of complications and sensationalism with regard to trials. It’s hard to say whether people and court cases are exploited by the media, or if it’s the reverse. Of course, the law is the law, but stupid TV is stupid. The series does a great job presenting a spectrum of truth, as the power of influence — of mass branding and storytelling — has to count for something. This is a parade of high profile cases where the court of public opinion has set people free, for better or for worse, in stories where the good guys and bad guys oscillate and merge.

In the land of 2 jobs or 2 houses, it’s hard to buy these obnoxious kids as the poor kids, the neglected who do whatever they want. There’s just a little too much confidence and social capital in there to exude neglected. The show trudges and sludges through our heroes’ thrilling adventures, which helps sell the island’s secluded atmosphere, and in a roundabout way helps us root for the Pogues for actually making things happen here. A lot of the engagement for this story, however, starts largely linear and basic—the poor good guys vs the boring, rich, corrupt bad guys—but the intricacies reveal themselves, though they take some time to start simmering.