The 50 Best Miniseries on Netflix Right Now

Netflix is no stranger to murder mysteries, having a whole catalog of films and series in the genre from around the world. Because of this, it can be hard for lesser known, non-English titles from the streamer to get their work noticed, and we at A Good Movie to Watch try to find the best of these hidden gems. Unfortunately, Hard Broken is not one of them. The latest six-episode Lebanese series feels rushed, often containing plot points that don’t make sense, with stock characters that feel so one-dimensional. With the quality of other murder mysteries on the platform, it’s strange that Netflix decided to produce this series.

Following the success of the Aníkúlápó movie, Netflix Naija has followed up the fantasy film with a sequel series, Rise of the Spectre. Like the original film, it showcases Yoruba culture with its excellent production design, and incorporates some familiar fantastical elements, like Saro’s resurrection. The premise is also pretty interesting, as it directly deals with the spiritual consequences of the first film. However, the show has less of the resurrection powers being used, with less time seeing the fantastical crow that grants Saro’s powers, and more time dedicated to dialogue heavy scenes that are tough to follow without watching the first film. Aníkúlápó: Rise of the Spectre has less of the fantasy we hoped to see.

With the source material being a Pulitzer winning novel, All The Light We Cannot See had high expectations. Plenty of what made the novel great was its straightforward prose, as well as its back-and-forth timeline, where each scene is arranged not by chronological order, but by the thematic logic that informs the characters’ actions. The new Netflix adaptation keeps the novel’s structure, however, the novel’s poetry is lost as the metaphors are shortened to its most cliché versions, and the showrunners couldn’t trust that the viewers would acknowledge the novel’s subtleties. While the cast does what it can, the show just feels like a missed opportunity to tell an excellent story.

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.

Released earlier in 2023, Lady Voyeur is reminiscent of those 80s-90s erotic thrillers that you or your parents weren’t allowed to watch, albeit with a modern hacking subplot. The Brazilian Netflix mini-series balances its erotic and its thriller sides– with Eros ruling the consensual scenes, and fear powering the mystery of Prado-Couto families. Relying on mirrors, CCTV cameras, and window reflections, the show follows the titular protagonist Miranda, seeing and being seen, as she gets roped into a conspiracy against her fling’s best friend and hotel conglomerate. It’s an interesting watch, though it lacks a tighter resolution to all its plotlines.

After decades of terrifying tales, it’s no wonder that Junji Ito developed a cult following internationally, big enough for a streaming giant like Netflix to invest in a brand new adaptation. Junji Ito Maniac: Japanese Tales of the Macabre is fairly faithful to its source material, keeping the plot points of supernatural beings and spine-chilling body horror in its selected twelve tales. That being said, being an anthology, the selection in Junji Ito Maniac greatly varies on how scary it is. On top of this, the series’ art style, made more cleanly for easier animation, is simply less scary than the black-and-white, shadowy sketches from the original manga. New and younger viewers might still get a thrill from the latest anime rendition of Junji Ito’s stories, though older fans might find that it pales to the original.

1990s Los Angeles was both glamorous and seedy, and it’s this murky territory that filmmaker Lisa Nova (Rosa Salazar) enters as she tries to make her movie dreams a reality. Lisa is ambitious and polite enough—if not a bit naive—but when she gets screwed over, she enlists the help of a mysterious stranger (played to witchy perfection by Catherine Keener) and, together, they brew their revenge. Things then take a turn for the supernatural in this ambitious, eerie thriller that will surely sate any David Lynch fan’s appetite. 

With the current deluge of biopics streaming, it’s easy to overlook Clark, Netflix’s fictionalized take on Clark Olofssonm, from whom the term “Stockholm Syndrome” was coined. Bill Skarsgård, Hollywood’s favorite onscreen creep, returns to his native Sweden and plays the titular criminal with such feverish passion that it’s impossible to take your eyes off the screen.

The delirious editing (bordering on excess or camp, depending on your taste) also makes it quite the standout among all the sober real-life adaptations. Clark will surely be hit-or-miss for most people, but its riskiness alone is enough reason to watch. 

Though relatively low on scares, this three-episode Indian miniseries fully believes in horror of a different kind: governments that indiscriminately call anybody terrorists if they try to think for themselves. Set almost entirely in a military interrogation facility, Ghoul wastes no time telling us who the real monsters are, never making the mistake of making the victims appear morally questionable. When the horror finally kicks in, it feels like satisfying karma—but always with a lingering reminder that a greater evil is still out there. So while its runtime may be perhaps too short, its promise of righteous revolution is something many people around the world just might need to hear.

Mexico City, 1970. Héctor Belascoarán leaves his stable office job and beautiful (but unhappy) marriage to pursue the adrenaline-filled life of a private detective. The police are useless, Héctor points out, not to mention corrupt and often in on the crime, so it’s up to him to tackle the many unsolved cases that haunt the city he loves.

Because he thinks himself a hero, Héctor narrates each episode in that nostalgic noir way, but the catch is that he is, in fact, no slick savior. Hector is still a rookie, prone to blunders and miscalculations, but his perseverance saves the day. In this way Belascoarán, PI is both a tribute and a sendup of detective films of yore; it references the genre in style and substance, but it isn’t above joking about it either. It’s proof that you can challenge viewers without sacrificing the laughs, and vice versa.

Like the biopics of other musicians, Love After Music tracks the life of Argentine rock-and-roll musician Fito Páez. From his beginnings as a band keyboardist in 1977 to his 1993 solo concert for UNICEF, the mini-series delves into the themes and inspiration that drive his work through eight episodes. As Páez performs, the series flips between the song being sung and related flashbacks from Páez’s life, implying how Páez feels through images instead of dialogue. This approach can feel confusing at times, but it makes this account of his life a more personal and experiential biopic. Fans of the Latin Grammy Lifetime Awardee would most likely enjoy this series, however, for audiences unfamiliar with the singer, like myself, it’s still an interesting series to watch.

Based on the 2021 Turkish series Fatma, Unseen takes the same premise and sets it in Cape Town. Fatma is now Zenzi Mwale, a house cleaner looking for her missing husband, despite how everyone else already wrote him out as a deadbeat convict. Mwale, portrayed by Gail Mabalane, is a sympathetic character, and Mabalane’s restrained performance earns empathy each time her search leads to certain dead ends (pun intended). Even as the show goes into generic territory, the house cleaner’s journey still feels compelling, as the series has a great grasp as to how this thriller’s tropes work, especially for a character whose work and worries mostly remain unseen.

African Folktales Reimagined is exactly what it says in the tin. The anthology isn’t exactly a cohesive, one-plot show – it’s a collection of folktale-inspired short films from six different countries, by six different filmmakers, funded by grants from a rare Netflix-UNESCO partnership. As such, the collection features a variety of genres and styles. If you like Westerns, you might want to watch Katera of the Punishment Island. If you’re into Afrofuturistic sci-fi, try watching Halima’s Choice first. Into supernatural stories? Watch Enmity Djinn. Katope and MaMlambo lean more on the fantastical side of the folklore, while Anyango and the Ogre feels like a straightforward drama. It’s a fairly varied collection, and there’s something here for everyone. African Folktales Reimagined takes a modern twist to the folktales that shaped the continent.

“This is a work of fantasy but to fantasize is to be human.” This quote is placed at the beginning of Creature, a passion project brought to life by writer-director Cagan Irmak, now available on Netflix. Inspired by Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Irmak reimagines the monster resurrection concept without sticking to closely to the original plot points, crafting a narrative that jumps back and forth between two separate timelines – the past, with Ziya’s rise in medical experimentation, and the present, with the titular creature rescuing a dying man. It makes for a historical drama that may not be as horrific as the original, but is no less intriguing in its themes.

The 1984 Bhopal gas leak is the world’s worst industrial disaster, and with the success of HBO’s Chernobyl, YRF Entertainment partnered with Netflix to create a miniseries based on the event. The Railway Men: The Untold Story of Bhopal 1984 is a compelling watch, with four fictional protagonists that serve as composite characters of real life heroes in the tragedy. Even as the viewers know what will happen – the case details are available online and the show’s first moments reveal the outcome – it’s still a powerful depiction of the preventable tragedy, as the show recognizes the personal consequences through their heroes. While the narrative does sometimes lose balance, and the certain effects falter, the series carefully depicts the preventable chaos with an anger over the injustice that still remains unresolved.

The way we are introduced to sex does shape the way sex features in our lives, whether that be an unintended glimpse into the wrong room, or an accidental encounter to NSFW media, or a proper discussion towards sex. Being inspired by, but not entirely accurate to the life of prolific Italian porn star Rocco Siffredi, sex is central to Supersex not just as his job, but as the way his family, relationships, and his concept of love is irrevocably affected by it. It’s fixated on sex, yes, but showrunner Francesca Manieri stirs the discussion not towards how hot it can be, but towards the various ways sex affirms and negates his masculinity, as well as the conceptions that determine that, and how it can slip into vice rather than healthy pleasure. There are moments where the series falters, particularly the way it depicts internalized homophobia, but overall, Supersex is a well-meaning exploration of sex work and masculinity.

Backed by Netflix’s deep pockets, Eric looks as good as any prestige miniseries out there. As a portrait of pre-gentrified New York, it feels so detailed and lived in you can almost smell the garbage cans collecting in the corner. And this seedy atmosphere ties well with the show’s dark themes and complicated mysteries, making Eric far from the worst thing you could watch on the platform. But there’s something about Cumberbatch’s Vincent that makes him difficult to follow. Perhaps his performance is more excessive than the script calls for, or perhaps his anti-hero character is too underwritten to sympathize with. Or maybe it’s both. Whatever it is, he’s not a strong enough lead to pull the series through, though thankfully, he’s surrounded by far more interesting and involving characters, particularly Hoffman’s Cassie and Belcher III’s Ledroit. If you’re looking for a serious thriller filled with compelling (if at times overdramatic) performances, Eric is your weekend show.

The series follows three perspectives: a government official, a Tokyo Electric Power Company employee, and a worker at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant, each with their respective teams tackling the aftermath of the March 11, 2001 earthquake and tsunami. From the reporting updates to the public to the dedication of first responders, ‘The Days’ excels at piecing together the macro- and micro-decisions that went into saving the residents of Fukushima. The series deepens the narrative to be more than a mere recollection with its scenes of the families of the victims and the residents as they evacuate their homes. Its steady pace, emotional close-ups, and suspenseful score capture the harrowing atmosphere of Japan’s worst natural disaster. 

Revenge stories are always fun, especially if you have someone like Jella Haase (who plays the titular spy Kleo) to helm them. Haase switches from scorned to spritely with such ease, making the otherwise formulaic plot of the show a breeze to watch. The disguises, the getaways, the killings, and the chase are all expected but nonetheless enjoyable in this show. 

If you’re looking for the next Killing Eve, this just might be it. Aside from the leads’ cheerfully deadly ways, the two shows also share the similarity of having enemies obsessing with each other, resulting in a cat-and-mouse chase that’s hard to peel your eyes off from. 

With its unique viewpoint of World War II, Transatlantic places a slick, old Hollywood spin on the historical rescue network Emergency Rescue Committee (ERC). Like the novel it’s based on, the miniseries takes real-life ERC members and writes them into love triangles and affairs to keep interest in the team, occasionally name dropping the famous European intellectuals helped by the committee. The glossy treatment of their wartime efforts prove to be absolutely stunning, if a bit broad. While the show can occasionally feel spread thin over its multiple storylines, the series uses classic Hollywood charm to remind viewers of the multiple refugee crises all over the world, through the one crisis everyone can recognize.

Based on a novel, A Perfect Story feels like a classic, straightforward romcom series. All of the elements are familiar to fans of the genre – running away from a wedding, bar meet-cutes, and fake relationships – but there’s a certain charm whenever these familiar elements show up. The show alternates between the timelines of Margot and David, taking its sweet time in the first episode before their timelines merge. And when they catch each other’s eye, it’s easy to root for these well-meaning characters looking for their match. While the story could be easily condensed into a film, the length allows the main duo to delve into a slowburn, friends-to-lovers romance.

Today’s child pop stars have a lot on their plate. On top of the already strenuous touring schedule, they have to deal with the fact that every move they make can be recorded, saved, and spread online just to cause their own downfall. Brazilian popstar Luisa Sonza grew up with the spotlight, and at the ripe old age of 25, has gone through two messy break-ups, a nude leak, and a racist controversy, all while creating two of her most captivating albums so far. If I Were Luisa Sonza portrays her at her most vulnerable– through the creating process, and the team meetings, and the doctor visits– but also at her most defiant, as she turns her scandals into art. The resulting intimate documentary might just be one part of her life, as she declares, but it’s just the precise viewpoint from this generation’s artists that is needed to question what it means to be a young artist in this day and age.

It starts off slowly, if a bit unevenly, but Black Earth Rising gradually finds its footing over the course of eight episodes. The series, a political thriller that takes a closer look at the legality of international war crimes, is led by the ever-commanding Michaela Coel and always-reliable John Goodman. 

As the Rwandan adoptee and legal investigator Kate Ashby, Coel attempts to reconcile her internal turmoil with that of the cases she’s tasked with. She’s at once indignant and empathetic, shut off and loving. She wants to be grateful for surviving a genocide and finding a home in the UK, but guilt is eating away at her. On top of the dangers that she faces as a refugee and investigator, Kate is also dealing with depression, and it’s a testament to the show’s skill that her condition is treated with as much thought and care as the other, more excitable aspects of the show. 

As Kate digs deeper into the mystery of who she is and exposes, along the way, the bloody involvement of different countries and institutes in African affairs, we’re forced to confront ethical questions (difficult but necessary) that stay with us long after the credits have rolled.

Ray is a captivating anthology series that pays tribute to the genius of renowned Indian filmmaker Satyajit Ray. With four distinct stories, each directed by different acclaimed directors, the series showcases Ray’s signature blend of human drama, mystery, and social commentary. The performances by the talented ensemble cast bring Ray’s nuanced characters to life. From tales of love and betrayal to stories exploring the complexities of human nature, Ray offers a rich and diverse viewing experience. With its engaging narratives, stunning visuals, and thought-provoking themes, there is bound to be an entry in the series for every mystery lover.

Best known for his research in blue zones, Dan Buettner brings us to these communities through his new Netflix docuseries. Live to 100: Secrets of the Blue Zones is a short and straight-to-the-point miniseries depicting the five designated blue zones around the world. Detailing differences in diet, mindsets, and activities, the series obviously advocates for a certain type of healthy living, written extensively about by the host. However, rather than the host constantly lecturing about what he learned, the show is mostly composed of moments where he interviews the residents directly. The travelog feels more like asking your elders for life advice, more so than a longevity tip info dump, or advertisement for Buettner’s other books.

It takes Monsieur Spade some time to settle into its skin. The first few hours are dedicated to introducing as many side characters and backstories as possible, and though this could have been more elegantly executed, it eventually pays off. The main mystery, once you get to it, is layered and complex, and watching Spade physically and verbally spar with Philippe is its own kind of reward. Their curt but cutting dialogue harkens back to past noirs, and it’s a delight to see that tradition live on in the genre.

This miniseries is based on a Margret Atwood novel and was also produced by her. The script was written by Canadian filmmaker extraordinaire Sarah Polley (Stories We Tell).

Grace is a poor but bright Irish immigrant in Upper Canada who is accused and convicted of a double murder. 15 years into her life sentence, a young American doctor is sent to try to get her out.

In Love All Over Again has many of the romance tropes fans of the genre would enjoy. The star-crossed lovers, the gay best friend, the absent-minded but well-meaning parent, and the classic romance drama jobs are present in the series. However, unlike other series, the show literally starts off with a bang. The main couple don’t get separated because of toxic dynamics or tragedy, but literally because of the 2004 Madrid train bombings. But this isn’t just a one-off event, it’s the event that shifts Irene’s life forever, as she tries to heal and process the event as best as she can. Some of the series’ plot points may not be new, but it’s sincere in examining how that event affected people’s lives, without being overly dramatic. The resulting series is sweet and it captures the Y2K nostalgia that’s currently en vogue.

Child kidnapping is any parent’s nightmare, and it’s the nightmare that drives the events of Spanish crime thriller The Snow Girl. Based on the 2020 novel of the same name, the limited series takes a unique double-pronged approach to the case at hand. The show goes through the regular police investigations we’ve seen previously, but it also comes mainly from the perspective of journalist Miren Rojo, whose previous trauma understandably limits her trust with the authorities. As the show moves the story from New York to Malaga, and switches between perspectives, and timelines, The Snow Girl adeptly maintains the novel’s original suspense, without over sensationalizing the crime at hand.

Netflix is no stranger to adapting novels, nor to period dramas – Cigarette Girl is one of many, but it’s one from Indonesia that stands out due to its unique premise and excellent execution. Based on the novel by Ratih Kumala, the show is a slow-burn, smoldering period romance set amidst Indonesia’s kretek cigarette industry, booming in the 1960s, but it’s framed within the 2000s, where the man’s family uncovers his lost love before he dies. The alternating timelines keep the mystery fresh, as each new revelation uncovers what really happened between the two, as well as what would happen with the fate of their families. This intriguing structure, along with excellent writing, and stunning sets and costumes, make Cigarette Girl a compelling show to watch.

A Round of Applause is just so darn weird. We’ve seen stories about people remembering their past lives, but we’ve never seen them able to recall and yearn for their life as pulp in an orange, of all things. We’ve seen fetuses as characters, but we’ve never seen them as a neurotic chainsmoker, tugging at the umbilical cord in complaint. These strange, existential ideas get to amusingly absurd paths, leading to punchlines that aren’t expected but pulls out unexpected laughter while making us contemplate the lives we’re currently living. Even if the offbeat humor isn’t to your taste, A Round of Applause just feels so original that it’s worth a look.

Created by Harlan Coben (the crime novelist-turned-showrunner behind many streaming mysteries), Safe is a fast-paced thriller following a widower in search of his missing daughter. The more he digs, the more he realizes that his town is anything but small and sleepy, and that he can’t trust the people closest to him. It’s the sort of show that involves multiple people and plotlines, which could easily go south if it fell into the wrong hands, but Safe manages to make it all work. It doesn’t require you to care deeply about these characters, but it does pull you in with its shocking secrets and (at times frustrating) cliffhangers. Sure, it can get soapy at times, but it’s never not entertaining. And though it revisits the night of the disappearance often, it always features a new angle and point of view, making it feel fresh every single time.

If you are a historian, a communist, a capitalist, a Russian or American citizen, you would likely already have opinions about the Cold War. But regardless of your knowledge on the topic, there’s no denying that Netflix docuseries Turning Point: The Bomb and the Cold War is such an ambitious documentary, dedicating a whopping 9 hours to explain the Cold War and its ramifications in such a comprehensive, well-paced way, trying to balance between various perspectives from all over the world. Of course, being from an American production company, it does slightly lean towards the American perspective, with some of the Netflix flair that you can see in their other documentaries. Nonetheless, The Bomb and the Cold War is a handy explainer to the history that still shapes many of today’s conflicts.

Mike Atlas is a former police detective now living on the streets as he reopens a supposedly solved murder case with a rookie prosecutor living in her mother’s shadow. As they dig deeper, they uncover a sinister conspiracy that reaches deep into the core of the police and justice system. The series is well-acted, with Max Riemelt giving an outstanding performance of a troubled detective suffering from trauma, guilt, and regret. Now homeless, with gaps in his memories, Atlas uses his dormant detective skills to discover the truth from eight months ago and protect his now-estranged family. There’s never a dull moment as mysteries unfold from multiple angles and pieces fall into place as theories fall apart. Sleeping Dog is an addictive guessing game until the end.

Releasing a documentary and a mini-series on the same case on the same day, Netflix understands how compelling Rosa Peral’s story is. Burning Body dramatizes the case’s events, but it does so in a way that questions the police as an institution. With the case, it’s clear that the ones assigned to protect citizens from crimes are trained enough to hide their own. However, the series also underscores the blatant sexism in their ranks, from higher ups taking advantage of new recruits, to spreading revenge porn on their fellow colleagues. With Money Heist’s Úrsula Corberó on the helm, Burning Body paints a double sided look of a multifaceted woman.

The real-life Tapie may be more or less interesting than the Tapie Laurent Lafitte brings to life in Class Act, but that doesn’t really matter. The series introduces the French tycoon as if he were a completely new character, which is helpful to those of us going in the series blind. There is drama, there is scandal, and since Tapie is so tied to French life, there is also history. But more than anything else, there is business. Tapie is by no means perfect, but he is a smart businessman, and Class Act’s sharp and strong writing brilliantly conveys the addictive highs and soul-crushing lows of commerce. Narrative cliches are inevitable, but that doesn’t make this well-crafted series any less enjoyable.

With a long and chaotic 30 years in the industry, it’s hard to encapsulate Robbie Williams’ whole musical career in a documentary. There are plenty of songs to tackle, plenty of scandals to explain, and Netflix tries to portray it all through its latest four part docuseries. Given its lengthy subject matter, it’s impossible to tackle everything, of course, so it mainly focuses on the artists’ mindset and mental health as Robbie Williams himself looks back at previous footage of himself. There’s some comfort in the fact that the singer now feels more settled in himself, something comforting in the idea that depression can be handled and overcome, but it makes this docuseries a fairly vulnerable one for the artist, and it’s an intriguing behind the scenes look for his fans.

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.

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.

With the fresh-faced cast and the sleek camerawork, Black Warrant, at first, didn’t seem to be the gritty adaptation of the exposé outlining the systemic corruption of the Tihar Jail in the 1980s. But, aesthetic aside, that’s precisely what Black Warrant is. Opening to Zahan Kapoor as Sunil Gupta being interviewed for the job as jailer, the show takes him and the audience to the tour of the notorious prison, and it’s a gripping one not because of the usual prisoner shenanigans, but because of the way the officers themselves happen to be in on the drugs and alcohol trade inside– and they’re ready to pin it all on Gupta if things go down. Showrunner Vikramaditya Motwane pulls it all together with excellent performances from the cast, an eerie score, and the real life headlines of some of India’s notorious prisoners.

From Mike Flanagan, creator of The Haunting anthology, comes Midnight Mass, a miniseries that is just as gory, unsettling, and supernaturally twisted as any Flanagan horror flick. The series follows an ex-convict who returns to his small town just upon the arrival of a mysterious but alluring priest. As inexplicable events start to happen, the townsfolk hang onto the churchman’s words, seeking reassurance where they can.

With lots to say about religious fanaticism and perpetual grief, Midnight Mass is part of a new wave of layered and thoughtful scary stories currently dominating the genre. While its stately and meditative pace can be overbearing sometimes, it never runs out of things to shock and unnerve the soul.

Once you get past its kiddy dialogue and somewhat overenthusiastic voice performances, Maya and the Three delivers one of the most thrilling action spectacles for children’s television. Taking its cue from Mesoamerican folklore, this nine-episode miniseries is draped from head to toe in lavish, intricate visuals and is directed with a surplus of stylistic choices, with characters frequently breaking out of the frame itself. And once the action starts, it almost never lets up. It never becomes too frightening for kids, and it’s mounted on a seriously impressive scale that any adult should appreciate. The fights are dynamic, intense, and beautifully constructed almost like dances—giving kids and kids-at-heart lots to marvel at together.

With the success of Narcos, Netflix has created multiple shows about drugs in Latin America to the point that the genre is a tad oversaturated, but with Sofia Vergara heading the miniseries on the real-life cocaine queenpin, Griselda is one that you have to watch. Unlike other depictions of Blanco, Vergara’s series puts her front and center, focusing on the initial struggles it took for her to be taken seriously and the darkness that emerged once she got her way. And of course, Vergara is fantastic, sliding into the drama with an ease that makes us want to see more. While the show isn’t fully accurate, and six episodes are too short to tackle her decades-long rule, Griselda nonetheless is compelling television.

This eight-part horror anthology is curated by the titular director, renowned as a trusted authority in telling tales of the Gothic and in creating wondrous practical creatures. So just like his work for films like Pan’s Labyrinth, The Shape of Water, and Hellboy, Cabinet of Curiosities is also filled with frightful beings ranging from reanimated corpses to bloodthirsty aliens—and should make for a staple Halloween binge. Aside from a star-studded cast, the series is also co-helmed by some noteworthy directors, including Jennifer Kent (The Babadook), Catherine Hardwicke (Twilight), and Ana Lily Amirpour (A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night).

Toxic Town tells the true story of how toxic waste in the steel-making town of Corby, England led a group of affected mothers to pursue justice. Helping them out is pro-bono lawyer Des Collins (Rory Kinnear), while on the other end of the case is Corby’s local government, who (unsurprisingly) are in cahoots with the steel mill responsible for the poisoning. The show’s beats are familiar; it’s a classic legal drama with streaks of political corruption and conspiracy, while also being an underdog story about victims rising to the powers that be. But its familiarity is easily forgiven thanks to the heartwarming performances of Jodie Whittaker and Aimee Lou Wood, who play two of the mothers with disabled children. The show, though short at just four episodes, gives them ample space to grieve, celebrate, and essentially be human–as opposed to just angry women serving as plot points to a drama. Their humanization and compassion for one another, as well as the thrilling pace and intelligent back-and-forths, are what make the show worth watching.

Sirens is a psychological drama that follows Devon (Fahy) as she retrieves her sister from the grasp of her cultish, billionaire boss, Michaela (Moore). The five-part series is addictive, not just because of the juicy drama and the dagger-sharp, class-conscious dialogue, but also because of its deep understanding of the contradictions of womanhood. The women are alternately jealous and empathetic, pained and ambitious. And they’re led by a trifecta of compelling performances: it’s a thrill to watch Fahy, Moore, and Alcock go at each other’s throats.

This is an thrilling BBC/Netflix show and a Yakuza drama that takes place between Tokyo and London. About half of the dialogue is in Japanese and the other half is in English.

Yakuza families are no longer at peace when a boss’s nephew is assassinated in London. Trying to bring the culprit in without interference from the British police, a Tokyo detective is sent to the UK to try to find him. 

There is an undeniable appeal to seeing the world of yakuza unfold, but the show’s title, which translates to Duty/Shame is a reference to the detective’s own personal conflict: the suspected murderer he’s looking for is his brother. Ouu.

Bollywood is the biggest film industry in the world, in terms of output. After all, the Indian film industry churns out 700-800 films per year. Because of sheer output, there are plenty of excellent hidden gems from the South Asian country, some of which we try to cover here in A Good Movie to Watch. However, for a fairly comprehensive introduction to the industry, the English-language miniseries The Romantics is a great place to start. There’s no better filmmaker to take notes from other than Yash Raj Chopra, whose media conglomerate shifted the industry for the past 50 years, so the show tackles his legacy through archival footage and interviews from India’s current roster of film stars. Footage of his films alone are already a compelling watch, but director Smriti Mundra keeps an excellent balance between these films’ personal impact, as well as the corresponding political and film history in which his works were released to. It’s an excellent introduction to the colorful and rich film history of India.

The Fall of the House of Usher isn’t an exact one-to-one television adaptation of the titular short story. Instead, the original story from Edgar Allan Poe is used as a frame to introduce a whole Succession-like miniseries, with names and subplots coming from other stories from Poe. Because of this, fans of the author might feel disappointed at the lack of old gothic flair, as the story is set a whole century and a half after, and the tone shifts as the show shifts from character to character. However, Mike Flanagan’s whole ensemble still proves to be entertaining as the Usher family deals with sci-fi mishaps, internal sabotage, and a possible supernatural element haunting the whole brood.

With a film version that didn’t live up to the hype of the original novel, Netflix’s adaptation of One Day released just in time to wreck the fans’ hearts all over again, but this time, it’s a good thing. The expanded runtime allowed Netflix to delve more into the moments in the novel, with each episode dedicated to a day in the year in Emma’s and Dexter’s lives, contrasting their respective worlds and opportunities available to them as different members of London society. And the couple is played beautifully by Leo Woodall and Ambika Mod, with a believable chemistry that isn’t formed in a single spark, but made in multiple moments. If you’re needing a good cry just right before Valentine’s Day, One Day is a superb slow burn romance to let those tears out.