100 Best Foreign Shows on Netflix Right Now

This wonderful series has such gentle, friendly animations of sea creatures, and a simple visualization of the sea. In fact, simple is the keyword here, extending to the very language used, which is good for teaching kids basic responses like “Good morning,” “I’m sorry,” and the like. The many curious and playful characters can definitely be loved by preschoolers, who may latch onto different animals and personalities more than others. The easy breezy nature of the show means it can also be fun for parents and guardians to watch with their kids, who together can learn lessons about kindness and friendship.

The show tackles triggering, traumatic topics and the rhetoric that forms around it, opting for a high school setting on top of it. Needless to say, it’s tricky to execute. What we end up getting is one edgy teen trope after another—drug use, bad influences, toxic relationships, one-dimensional parents—in a very romanticized, commercialized depiction of high school. The jumpy storytelling does enough to create direction and interest for the material. But far and away the best part of each episode is the final minutes. They’re eerily and beautifully done, but is it really worth walking through broken glass in pursuit of a foot massage?

While Western viewers are more acquainted with gay representation in Western media, Asia also has its fair share of gay portrayals in the Asian BL and Japanese yaoi genres. While mistakenly viewed by some as explicit, there are some BL titles that are more on the sweet side, and I Cannot Reach You is one of them. The show might go through the typical childhood best friends to lovers plotline, in overly soft lighting and too many flashbacks, but the cheesy approach can come across as charming to romance fans, as Yamato and Kakeru go through the classic coming-of-age moments other straight teen romances have. The romance isn’t particularly deep, but viewers wanting something easy and lighthearted to explore the genre might appreciate this live action adaptation of the widely popular BL manga.

At its core, The Signal is a compelling mystery made even more interesting by its sci-fi elements and tender father-daughter moments. The problem is that it goes on for way too long. This could’ve been a very engaging two-hour film, watchable from start to end, but because of its convoluted storytelling and unnecessarily slow pace, it’s an overlong four-part series. There’s a sense that writer and star Florian David Fitz, who plays Sven, had too much fun with the script’s non-linear and multi-perspective approach, but instead of elevating the material, it drags it down with lulls and entire scenes that could’ve been removed from the final cut. The Signal is not necessarily bad; in fact, for a series, it’s impressive how high its production value is and how trippy its mystery gets. But it would’ve been more impressive if Fitz had trimmed the fat off the story and condensed it into the feature-length film it should’ve been.

Rap music originated in the African American community, but internationally, there are local music industries diving into the genre, including countries in Africa as well. Kenyan music drama Volume puts theirs on the spotlight, through up-and-coming artist Benja trying to make his way. But the show isn’t just about a musician’s dream– it’s about the crew that surrounds him too. There’s his friend Castillo whose crime and influencer girlfriend can make or break his career. And there’s his girlfriend Lucy, who’s torn between her support and her religious family. Writer-director Tosh Gitonga balances their respective subplots well, able to maintain its watchability through its understanding of the stakes. Volume might be a familiar story, but it’s still an entertaining watch, because it understands how this dream can be tough to reach coming from a rough neighborhood, and how tough it can be to keep this dream pure and unadulterated.

Usually, telepathy is just portrayed as a cool superpower. In Eye Love You, it’s useful for Motomiya to secure her CEO position, but it also means an imbalance in every interaction she has with other people… At least, until she meets Korean student Yoon Tae-oh. This, of course, becomes the basis for their relationship, which, while starting from a pretty novel idea, plays out in the cheesy, romantic ways we’re used to seeing in both Japanese and Korean dramas. With Yoon Tae-oh better characterized, it’s lovely to see Chae Jong Hyeop to charm in both languages, but it’s disappointing to see how cliché the protagonist is depicted, how her main desire isn’t personal but in relation to another man (her father), when the show comes primarily through her perspective. Still, Eye Love You’s unique power leads to the unique idea that differences can mean connection– and having them allows us to truly appreciate each other, as long as we’re open enough to get to know them.

With the premise, Amidst a Snowstorm of Love seemed to be a sports-related romance, albeit taking place in a snowy location. It’s a familiar story, with a discouraged athlete finding inspiration for their craft again through romance, and it’s a story that works. But in the first few episodes, Amidst a Snowstorm of Love feels more focused on the snowstorm romance rather than the character’s personal journeys with regards to their sport. To their credit, this is a great excuse for some of the most cozy looking outfits on screen (is this a clothing ad?), and Leo Wu and Zhao Jin Mai are so, so beautiful in their puffy coats, but it feels like the billiards are irrelevant to the story, as they make no mention of it until the second episode. Maybe they should have gone for a more relevant winter sport, so that we can see them in even more cozy coats?

The lives of affluent teenagers tend to be entertaining fodder used in plenty of shows, as their privilege, inexperience, and spending power allow them to go into some crazy situations. High Tides is one of those shows, set in the Belgian seaside town of Knokke, where working class Daan bumps into and captures the attention of rich high school couple Louise and Alex. The show definitely goes into a lot of the familiar soapy melodrama, with drugs, alcohol, and terrible parents driving them to teenage antics, but it does so through stunning visuals and a talented cast that makes the inane plot decent enough to watch. The show is nothing new, but for viewers into soapy teenage dramas, High Tides might be up your alley.

This is a 3-episode true crime docuseries that shows great care to the victims and affected parties of this particular case. Whether they’re detectives, autopsy specialists, victims’ relatives, witnesses—all seem to share in this safe space, exploring thought processes behind why a certain place or person might be targeted, while at the same time extending support to the queer community directly harmed by this trauma. The production and reenactments are sleek without being overbearing or needing to sensationalize unnecessary details. The only time the atmosphere shifts is when we see the perpetrator’s perspective, which is a kind of creepy that draws no sympathy or intrigue to itself. Its pace can drag in the middle of an episode, but it’s a true crime mini-series with a straightforward, respectful approach, and these days that’s more than enough.

Chastity High is a lovely concept to begin with, from its basic premise to its episode titles being so unapologetically saccharine. Once you do see an episode and get a feel for characters that are childlike/childish in presentation mixing it up in these adult scenes, it can be tonally confusing who the show’s audience is. Those two extremes aside, the show does present a good mix of money drama and teen drama on the journey back to the flash forward prologue, and overall feels like a light, easy watch with enough storylines to potentially keep you hooked for multiple episodes.