100 Best Foreign Movies on Tubi Right Now

A woman loses her phone on her way back to her countryside childhood home. Once there, she connects an old landline in hopes of finding her lost mobile, only to start receiving weird calls that seem to be from 20 years ago.

On the other side of the receiver is a girl who seems to be in danger. The Call is thrilling, sometimes scary, but also brilliantly shot, and its plot is so expertly woven. It’s a proper movie-night movie.

This Danish film which was the country’s submission to the Oscars is about a delicate subject. A lawyer who specializes in defending children, and who is used to developing closeness with her clients including meeting with them in her home, starts having an affair with her teenage step-son.

There is inherent tension to this obviously very explicit plotline: how would a serious, non-erotic (or not-only-erotic) movie like this one portray such attraction. And of course, afterwards, what are the implications?

This Swedish movie is the story of Astrid Lindgren, one of the most translated children book writers of all time. Her work of over 100 books includes Pippi Longstocking and The Brothers Lionheart.

Away from the quiet existence of the characters she would later create, Astrid had a turbulent life. Her troubles start when she falls for the editor of the paper she worked at when she was young, a man 30 years her senior. This results in an unwanted pregnancy and Astrid is pushed to immigrate.

This drama from France and Canada is about Matthieu, a 33-year-old from Paris who never knew his father. One morning he gets a call to go to Montreal, where he is told his dad has passed away and where a funeral will take place.

To add to his confusion, upon arrival Matthieu is asked to conceal his identity from his step-mother and step-brothers.

A Kid is made as though the filmmaking styles from the countries it’s set in were mixed together. There are complicated family dynamics reminiscent of Xavier Dolan movies; and identity issues and comments on different compositions of families like the films of Mia Hansen-Løve.

Being named after the genre, Wu xia, the title replaced in English as Dragon, would understandably follow its conventions with dramatic action in ancient China. The plot roughly follows a typical wuxia thread, where a hidden master is revealed, leading to plenty of exciting adventures, and they seek justice in order to return to a state of peace. But the way Dragon approaches this plot is exciting, as the film mixes in the investigation of a murder mystery, with a determined detective suspecting the master through his knowledge of the body, through an eclectic mix of forensics, medicine, and Qi acupuncture. And as the detective is consistently challenged by the former fighter, it’s clear how difficult it can be to master the body, especially after going through trauma and violence and self-doubt. The threads in the film are familiar, but Dragon understands what makes these threads work, and the way these are woven together makes for a good movie to watch.

When a woman that looks like the love of your life randomly shows up at an empty train station, but strangely has no memory of you, maybe you should try to confirm their identity first– doppelgangers do exist, after all. But aside from this detail, there’s a certain charm in the way Be With You unfolds, as the family gets a second chance to cherish a loved one, and as Woo-jin indulges in sharing their love story, a story that Woo-jin understandably doesn’t want to forget. Be With You doesn’t reinvent the entire genre, and it would inevitably be compared to the 2004 Japanese original, but this Korean remake does it so well, celebrating the way love transcends lifetimes.

Life can get tough if you move to another country. You have to adjust to the language, to the culture, and to the community you choose to move to, and that’s just if you decided to make the move intentionally. But some of these difficulties can be made much easier to bear with a good friend. Shun Li and the Poet is centered on a friendship between two immigrants in a Venetian island town, and although they come from other sides of the world, the kindnesses they share as strangers, and the intimacy they keep when they share more of their life stories, prove to be lovely. It might be a tad slow for some viewers, but the contemplation and celebration of their shared humanity makes for a lovely watch.

Much like its monster, Brotherhood of the Wolf is quite a hard movie to pin down. It’s an unscary French creature feature but it’s a rather refreshing period drama romance, made much more action-packed courtesy of a randomly placed, supposedly Iroquois, talented martial artist. Yet somehow, it works. Perhaps it works because it was released ahead of many other early aughts action horror films, and perhaps, at CGI’s infancy, it’s a bit easier to suspend disbelief over the wolf, but the wacky experimentation writer-director Christophe Gans brings in depicting this historical beast is just so entertaining to watch. Brotherhood of the Wolf is just pure bonkers.

Given that there are 25 other films and 4 seasons depicting the blind swordsman, Shintaro Katsu’s ​​Zatoichi can seem a bit redundant. To a certain extent, it is, as the action set pieces call back to earlier standout moments and the length can feel a tad bloated, so fans of Ichi might find this conclusion still classic, but nothing particularly novel. That being said, with Katsu directing the conclusion after portraying the character for so long, it’s no surprise that everything the Zatoichi is known for– the action, the humor, and the swordfighting– is dialled up to eleven, with a slightly darker and more stylistic tinge that brings the swordsman to better fit the newer decade. Fans would already have their opinions on this film, but for new viewers, Zatoichi: Darkness Is His Ally might find it as a straight-to-the-point snapshot of this classic 70s franchise.

Why do we cling to the people that we love, but who clearly don’t treat us well? It’s a common question in romance films, one that often leads to a conclusion that people shouldn’t feel shackled to partners that don’t treat them right, but sometimes other films seem to shame these unfortunate lovers for making the wrong choice. My King doesn’t do that. Sure, Georgio can seem like an obvious asshole (he is), but writer-director Maïwenn makes clear that the same things that make him erratic– his spontaneity, his enjoyment of life, and his open acceptance– which Vincent Cassel superbly embodies, are also the same things that attracted Tony in the first place. And as Tony recovers her knee, the careful interstitching between her time at the center and her romance with Georgio visually parallels the physical and emotional wounds in an interesting way. Mon Roi is familiar romance stuff, but it’s the approach that makes the film work.