20 Best Movies on Max But Not on Netflix

“California Dreamin'” by the Mamas and the Papas. You will fall in love with that song (if you haven’t already) after watching this movie. Two stories, entangling into one; both about Hong Kong policemen falling in love with mysterious women. It was recommended by my friend after I said I loved Frances Ha. I don’t know whether you can call this as offbeat romance.. but to me it was, and it’s well worth the watch.

Often considered Claire Denis’ best film, Beau Travail is an epic exploration of both masculinity and colonialism. Inspired by Melville’s Billy Budd, she transplants the story to Djibouti where the French Foreign Legion run seemingly aimless drills in an arid desert landscape while largely alienated from the local community.

Denis inverts the male gaze and imbues charged eroticism to the bodies in motion as the men train and wrestle. Accompanied by the music of Britten’s Billy Budd opera, these movements transform into a breathtaking modern dance. Underneath her jaw-dropping direction is a cutting allegory on repression, desire, and violence, working on both the individual and geopolitical level. This incredible tale is capped off by one of the best end credit sequences of all time.

This charming documentary about one of the most brilliant, groundbreaking comedians alive strikes a delicate balance between accessible and deeply appreciative, making it both a great gateway for those yet to be uninitiated into the Albert Brooks fan club and a satisfying retrospective for us confirmed devotees. It’s directed and fronted by Rob Reiner, celebrated director himself and one of Albert Brooks’ oldest friends, and the choice is perfect: his rapport with Brooks is warm and easy, extracting real sincerity from the famously deadpan comedian-writer-actor-director.

Defending My Life features plenty of talking heads gushing about Brooks’ dazzling multi-hyphenate talents (among them Steven Spielberg and Sharon Stone), a standard convention for documentaries of this kind. But what elevates this into a portrait worthy of its subject are the scenes from a dinner shared by Brooks and Reiner, during which the former opens up about his childhood, reflects on his career, and divulges the autobiographical elements that informed his work. Their tete-a-tete flows with all the unforced rhythm of conversation between good friends; Reiner’s presence coaxes illuminating insight from Brooks, which makes watching the documentary feel as close to pulling up a seat at their table as you’d hope for. The 90 minutes just fly by.

The Boy and the Heron isn’t Hayao Miyazaki’s best film, nor is it his most accessible, seeing as the director himself has admitted to getting lost in the world he’s built here. But it is his most personal film to date (apparently he’s out of retirement!) and consequently, it’s one of the most complex Ghibli films to exist. It eschews structure for pure, raw emotion so instead of dialogue and plots, you get wonderfully abstract fantasy worlds and protagonists with near-imperceptible depths. You don’t have to get the story to understand the heaviness, grief, joy, and hope that Mahito, and in turn Miyazaki, feel. You only have to see the delicate turns in the characters’ expressions and their wildly imaginative adventures.

The Harry Potter movies undoubtedly changed the lives of its young stars forever — but a stuntman whose future the films had more tragic consequences for is the deserved focus of this moving documentary. David Holmes was just 17 when he was hired as Daniel Radcliffe’s stunt double, a role he held throughout the series. The two formed a close brotherly bond on set, growing up alongside one another for 10 years until a terrible accident during the final movie’s filming left him paralyzed from the chest down, a condition that has deteriorated over the years following post-surgery complications. 

This doc is an inspiring portrait of David, from his fearless childhood and dream-fulfilling work to the incredible resilience he’s shown since the accident. It’s also, though, a poignant testament to the loving, supportive community that Holmes inspired at work — friendships that only reached greater depths following the accident and the end of the movies. The doc’s focus empathetically expands from Holmes’ story to include its impact on his bond with Radcliffe (who features prominently here) and Holmes’ fellow stunt doubles — and, while the sheer force of Holmes’ personality would make for a compelling documentary on its own, it’s the tenderness and honesty that all of these participants show that makes this so poignant.

Though it isn’t the groundbreaking slasher movie that it initially seemed to be marketed as, X simply knows how to do its job very well: the gore is plentiful and the build-up to the inevitable kills is just loaded with anticipation. But where the film becomes much more interesting is in the palpable sadness that seems to follow all of its characters. Innocent or murderous, each of these people is just trying to cling to an idea of personal freedom and beauty that never seems to last. It’s a horror movie that takes its portrayals of sex and sexuality very seriously, exploring the limits of sexual liberation in a country that actively tries to punish it.

Like 12 Angry Men before it, Conspiracy follows a group of men who come to a standstill when asked to make a crucial, fateful decision. The two films are mostly stationary and dialogue-heavy, but where the former is hopeful, the latter is purely heinous. Sure, the Nazi officials argue amongst themselves about the Final Answer to the Jewish Question—in other words, the genocide of European Jews—but the debate is less about the morality of the act than the practicality of it. No one in that room is redeemable. They’re varying levels of evil, but evil nonetheless. It’s a testament to the filmmakers, then, the entire film manages to be stirring. Loring Mandel’s script is incredibly taut and intelligent but never lets you fall for the officials’ wise-sounding traps. Director Frank Pierson, for his part, expertly paces the movie, knowing when to bring out the big guns (mostly via Colin Firth’s impassioned Wilhelm Stuckart) and when to rely on subtlety. It’s a fine example of how a film can succeed with few but quality parts, but more importantly, it’s a timeless reminder of how unnervingly plain evil can look.

Is courage still courage when you have no choices left? What do you do when you’re pressed to the wall and have no way to go? Maria, a pretty, modest and hardworking girl living in a small Colombian town, where the only career choice (thus not being a choice, really) is working in a floral plant, packing and distributing flowers – a dead-end job with killer hours and zero-tolerance boss. Yet, it’s money. Until the day Maria gets pregnant and her choices become even more limited. By accident, she makes acquaintance with a guy who turns out to be her way out – and the way is out to become a drug mule, transporting drugs in your stomach across the border to the American soil. A job dangerous in many aspects, illegal and potentially deadly, but also paid well. Maria decides to take the only way out, a way that may be a one-way street. Maria Full of Grace is a gut-wrenching story about survival in a seemingly hopeless situation. It’s about taking that one chance that has all the potential to go south, and investing in it all the hope you have left, and all the survival instinct you have in your heart and soul. And when everything that could go bad does, and everything turns from bad to worse beyond imagination, it’s about standing strong and not giving up, no matter what. Though technically not a documentary, it’s real beyond belief, and you can be sure Colombia is full of Marias – just hoping for a decent life, ready to sacrifice the very life itself to obtain it. It’s a masterpiece of its genre and it also boasts one of the best posters in the history of the cinema. Highly recommended.

Initially, A Revolution on Canvas is about the Nodjoumi family’s quest to retrieve the patriarch’s missing paintings in post-Islamic Revolution Iran. Necessarily, it goes through Nodjoumi’s troubled childhood and shocking life as a resilient revolutionary. But the documentary eventually evolves into a knotty and heartbreaking tale about family, specifically about the sacrifices the partner of a rebel genius like Nodjoumi has to make to let the other shine. Nodjoumi’s daughter, Sara, confronts her father about his absence during their family’s formative years and, more importantly, shines a light on the sacrifices her mother–the artist Nahid Hagigat–had to make to keep them all afloat. The documentary could’ve easily been a straightforward portrait of Nodjoumi, but because it’s told through such a specifically intimate lens, it’s elevated into something even more relatable and revealing.

Having an ordinary life isn’t a bad thing, but it can feel like a huge disappointment, hearing of other people and characters having extraordinary lives. However, when Harvey Pekar started writing down that ordinary life, his life became… still quite ordinary, but at least with an outlet through his autobiographical comic book American Splendor. That being said, his biopic isn’t quite ordinary, transforming Pekar’s eccentric musings into fourth-wall-breaking comic book panels, vignettes, and documentary-esque work, shifting between Pekar animated, acted by Paul Giamatti, and voiced occasionally by Pekar himself. And like his work, American Splendor resonates with the ordinary viewer, who, like him, just wants to try to make the best of life. It’s pretty cool for someone that called himself a nobody.