65 Best True-Story-Based Movies on Tubi Right Now

A hot summer night, around 2 a.m. You’re outside talking with a close friend about life, happiness, and the human condition. That quality and depth of conversation, which you reach at best a couple of times a year is present throughout the 106 minutes of The End of the Tour.

In the case of this movie, you become the witness of five days of conversation spent between two fine writers: the once-in-a-generation American author David Foster Wallace and best-selling Rolling Stone journalist David Lipsky, as they travel the US during the 1996 publicity tour for the former’s magnum opus, Infinite Jest. Twelve years later Wallace will commit suicide.

Like a good podcast, the James-Ponsoldt-directed road movie makes you feel being part of a deeply personal conversation of the kind you would have with a long-time friend. At times, it can feel like eavesdropping on a genius at work. This effect is helped along by a flawless Jason Segal, who delivers an award-worthy performance as DFW. The fierce intelligence exuded by Jesse Eisenberg as David Lipsky is also nothing short of amazing. As they stuff their faces with junk food, their conversation is insightful, immediate, and unpretentiously relevant, making The End of the Tour a rare and important film.

Simply titled The Imposter, this film by English documentary maker Bart Layton tells an unbelievable tale. Any plot summary doing this film justice has to err on the side of brevity, which is why it will be only one line long: this is the story of Frederic Bourdin, a serial imposter nicknamed “The Chameleon”, who at one time claimed to be the missing son of a family from Texas. The film is so well-shot that it is hard to tell fact from fiction at times and it will force you to remind yourself that this is in fact real life. Expect twists and turns at every corner and brilliant storytelling from real people. If Christopher Nolan created a 48-hour story, it would pale in comparison to this film.

It’s hard to overstate just how lovely — and quietly radical — this largely improvised Canadian docudrama is. The scenario (seven elderly women and their tour bus driver are stranded in the Canadian wilderness for a few days) is contrived, but the rich, lively conversations that feature are all drawn from the women’s real lives. As they hunker down and get on with the business of surviving with meager food — something they manage to do largely thanks to the bushcraft skills of Mohawk elder Alice — the strangers reflect on their long lives and open up to each other about their lingering fears and still-burning hopes.

They’re a diverse bunch — featuring Cockney transplants, lesbian pioneers, and nuns — and the film’s brief cuts to real photos from the women’s earlier years both underscore the rawness of what they’re saying and serve as testaments to the rich fullness of their lives. The Company of Strangers grants these women the kind of serious consideration and space that they’re denied in so many public spaces, but it never feels like a strained exercise in redressing that imbalance. Instead, this is simply a gentle, gorgeous, and profoundly moving portrait of women who aren’t done living yet.

Abuse is bad and should be reported, full stop. But it’s not so easy to do so, when abusers stay in positions of power, and the people who are assigned to keep them in check are cowardly against them. Silenced depicts true crime novel The Crucible, which in turn, is based on a real life case of the Gwangju Inhwa School. Through the perspective of a new art teacher, Silenced systematically outlines how difficult it is to deliver justice, from the way the school administration bribed police and the education department, to the way the court didn’t even think to hire a deaf interpreter. It’s a horrific watch, but the intensity of the depiction was needed, given that this film’s release pushed South Korea’s government to change their laws and the actual school shut down within the same year.

An inspired by true events tale about an elderly Irish woman trying to find the child she was forced to give up many years earlier. Steve Coogan co-wrote the script and, though the base story is a tragic one, his special brand of very subtle, wry wit is apparent in the dialogue throughout. Judi Dench plays the mother who had kept her “sinful” past a secret for fifty years and, being Judi Dench, I don’t need to bother going on about her exemplary talent, suffice to say she’s charming beyond measure in the role. Steven Frears directs, as usual, deftly, and keeps the story compelling scene after scene, intensifying the emotions inherent to each, whether they be heart-warming, comedic, or outright enraging. Whoever decided to let Steve Coogan have his way with the script, it was a brave and wise choice and together this cast and crew have produced a wonderful and important piece of cinema.

A hilarious and smart comedy that is almost impossible to hate. It doesn’t matter if you liked The Room or not; or if you’ve even heard of it, you will find The Disaster Artist extremely enjoyable. Same applies for James Franco, it’s irrelevant if you think he’s the hottest man walking or a complete waste of screen-time – this movie is better approached without any preconceived ideas. It follows the true events surrounding Tommy Wiseau’s making of The Room, a movie so bad it actually became a worldwide hit. Tommy’s character, played by Franco, is 100% mystery. He pops out of nowhere and does and says things that contain little to no logic. Capitalizing on this, the movie is both absolutely hilarious and intriguing from beginning to end.

When Amin sits down for a tell-all interview about his troubling past, his memories come to life in vivid animation. Sometimes they are sweet and intimate, like when he recounts his time as a playful boy in a much freer Afghanistan. But often, they’re marred by the unbelievable horrors of refugee life. Now a successful academic and soon-to-be husband, Amin discovers the inescapability of his status and identity, the reality of which continues to threaten his safety to this day.

Relevant and vital, Flee sheds some much-needed light on an often-overlooked phenomenon. More than just displaying factoids and numbers, it relays the specific unease and constant vigilance that comes with fleeing one’s home. But as Amin’s story, it is also richly detailed and wonderfully personal; for all its harsh exposés, the film leaves enough room for Amin’s stirring realizations about love, identity, and sexuality.

Here’s a biopic that focuses on capturing the feel of the era it depicts, rather than all the facts — and is all the better for it. 24 Hour Party People takes the same punk approach to storytelling as its subjects did to music, playfully throwing off the dull constraints that often make based-on-a-true-story movies feel like uninspired celluloid translations of a Wikipedia page. 

In the film’s opening scene, Steve Coogan’s Tony Wilson breaks the fourth wall to address us directly and semi-spoil the movie’s ending. But it doesn’t matter, because the ride is so fun: we’re taken on an immersive trip through the heyday of the Manchester music scene: the births of Joy Division, New Order, the Happy Mondays, and Wilson’s Factory Records label and legendary Hacienda nightclub, an incubator for acid house and rave culture. The era’s hedonism is brought to life by the movie’s frenetic editing, documentary-style cinematography, and strobe-heavy visuals. For all its onscreen anarchy, though, the movie remarkably never feels loose or self-indulgent. Its irreverence is grounded by the ironic filter of the meta filmmaking, which frequently breaks the fourth wall to draw attention to its own conceits. A refreshing rejection of biopic tropes, but also a thrilling transportation into and evocation of the Madchester era.

Based on a true story, The Whistleblower is the biography of a once Nebraskan police officer who volunteers for the U.N. peacekeeping mission in post-war Bosnia. Once there, she uncovers a human trafficking scandal involving peacekeeping officials, and finds herself alone against a hostile system in a devastated country. Rachel Weisz plays the whistleblower in a powerful lead role, but the true star of the movie is its director, Larysa Kondracki, who thanks to near documentary-style film-making delivers a perfectly executed political thriller with utmost authenticity.

I’m Not There is an unusual biopic in that it never refers to its subject, Bob Dylan, by name. Instead, Todd Haynes’ portrait of the singer mimics his constant reinvention by casting six separate actors to play as many reincarnations of the same soul. It’s an ingenious spin on a usually stale genre, one that liberates the film from the humdrum restrictions of a literal retelling of Dylan’s life.

If there’s anyone who warrants such an inventive approach to biography, it’s Dylan, whose public and private personas are so numerous that it’s only by angling six different mirrors at him that Haynes can hope to catch some of his essence. Impressionistic editing toggles freely between these vignettes, each visually distinct: from the 11-year-old Woody Guthrie-obsessive (Marcus Carl Franklin) and the black-and-white Super 16mm-shot poet (Ben Whishaw) to the aging cowboy outlaw (Richard Gere), all by way of Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, and Cate Blanchett’s incarnations. To be sure, this is a somewhat challenging film, reflecting, in places, the enigmatic surrealism of Dylan’s lyrics and his refusal to be pinned down to one thing. But, as Blanchett’s embodiment says, “Mystery is a traditional fact,” and that’s no more true than of Dylan, making Haynes’ film a fascinatingly fitting spiritual biopic.

In Motherwell, you either “get locked up or knocked up,” or so says Gemma, a teenager on the cusp of adulthood growing up in an old Scottish steel town. Gemma runs among a tight-knit group of friends, at the center of which is ordinary mischief, routine, and roughhousing. And beneath that lies a certain kind of everyday violence. 

As Gemma enters young motherhood, she reckons with how to reconcile her own aggressions with the protective tenderness she feels toward her newborn. Beautifully and thoughtfully directed by Ellen Fiske and Ellinor Hallin, Scheme Birds never feels invasive. Rather, their documentary lets Gemma speak for herself—and in doing so, illuminates not just her life, but the complicated lives that intersect hers, too. 

It’s 1984 and miners in England are on strike against Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher’s plans to close pits. Their cause has unlikely appeal for Mark Ashton, a human rights activists who decides to take a group of people who had joined an early Gay Pride parade in London to rural England to show support for the (often socially-conservative) miners.

You can see how things might go wrong, but in this case they didn’t. This heartwarming tale is based on a true story. An easy, funny, and relevant movie about the bond that oppression brings to the oppressed. Super earnest, too.

Here’s a based-on-a-true-story courtroom drama that transcends the limits of its genre by virtue of an incisive and unexpectedly prescient script. Twenty years before 2016 sent us hurtling through the looking glass and into a post-truth era, the idea that you could deny the facts as you pleased teetered terrifyingly on the brink of legitimacy when author David Irving (a suitably odious Timothy Spall) brought a UK libel suit against Deborah Lipstadt (Rachel Weisz), an academic whom he claimed had defamed him for calling him exactly what he was: a Holocaust denier.

The case was complicated by the fact that, at the time, the UK placed the burden of proof on the defendant — in other words, Lipstadt’s hotshot legal team needed to prove that the Holocaust happened and that Irving had wilfully misrepresented evidence demonstrating this. Denial captures that terrifying farcicality and the defense’s cleverly counterintuitive strategy: not allowing Lipstadt or Holocaust survivors to speak. If that sounds unsatisfying — this is the rare courtroom drama with no grandstanding speech from the protagonist — that’s the point, something the film’s title cleverly alludes to. Perhaps unexpectedly, Denial’s relevance has ballooned since its release, a fact that might hobble its hopeful ending but that only makes the rest all the more powerful.

A slice-of-life true-story-based film on growing old and in love. When on his own land, Craig Morrison (played by James Cromwell) starts building a more convenient house for his ailing wife Irene (Geneviève Bujold), he is faced with crippling bureaucracy. The state gives him the choice between stopping the construction or going to jail, while he is witnessing his wife’s health deteriorating even further. The act of going against the system brings out both how beautiful his relationship with his wife is, as well as his own resilience in this moving, insightful drama.

This crazy heist movie is told in a very original way. Because it’s based on a true story, the movie (with actors and a story) is sometimes interrupted by the people it’s about. The opening scene even reads: “this movie is not based on a true story, it is a true story”. Two friends decide to rob their local library from rare books worth millions. They’re driven by money but also by wanting something different than their monotonous everyday lives in Kentucky. The need for a change is a big theme in this movie, but the story and the way it’s told never cease to be breathtakingly thrilling. American Animals stars amazing actors like Barry Keoghan (Dunkirk), Evan Peters (Kick-Ass), and many more; but perhaps equally as notable is the director: Bart Layton, who is fresh from his amazing 2012 sleeper-hit The Imposter.

Part documentary yet part surreal daydream, director Derek Jarman’s final film is one last rallying cry into a blue void. Against an unchanging screen of International Klein Blue, most of the film is Jarman’s voice, drifting through various subjects, from day-to-day complications of AIDS to contemplations about the color blue. Some of his frequent collaborators chime in. Choirs singing about damnation occasionally pop up too. While essentially a radio drama, the combination of voices, foley, and scores all merge together into an ethereal, haunting soundscape, that sticks in your head long after the film ends. Mirroring his partial blindness, Jarman’s last experiment leaves an impression of his own experience. It’s absolutely devastating.

Our Children opens at the harrowing end of the true story it’s based on: with the image of a distraught mother (Émilie Dequenne) in a hospital bed, begging a police officer to ensure that her children — who have just predeceased her — are buried in Morocco. From this ominous beginning, the film rewinds into a jarringly sunny flashback of lovebirds Murielle (Dequenne) and Mounir (Tahar Rahim) to tell this horrifying story from the start.

What follows is much less obviously dramatic: Our Children shifts into slow-burn psychological thriller territory as we watch the gradual breaking down of Murielle at the hands of Mounir’s adoptive father André (Niels Arestrup), a wealthy white doctor who has used his status to insinuate himself into the lives of Mounir and his family back home in Morocco. This is a very subtle study of manipulation, one that hinges entirely on the performances of the trio, who fill with nuance roles that could easily have been tabloid caricatures. Above all, though, this is Dequenne’s film, and it’s the devastating ways she shows the life gradually being sucked out of Murielle that makes Our Children so difficult to shake off.

Man on Wire is a true technical masterpiece. You can almost feel the director telling the cameraman what angle to choose, or thinking about the questions that will generate the most resounding answers. However, this does not diminish the story this documentary tells one bit. It’s one that is glorious, riveting, and fun. It’s one where you feel like an insider to a world lived on and below wires, with high-stake risks. Hopefully the edge of your seat is comfortable, because this is where the movie will keep you till the very end.

A Danish cargo ship is hijacked by Somali pirates in the Indian Ocean. The pirates demand millions of dollars in ransom and from there on, a psychological drama between the pirates and the ship owner develops, as they negotiate the price for the ship and its crew. A really great thing about this film is the fact that it doesn’t get tangled up in the weepy feelings of the families back home – but instead focuses on the shrinking hope of the ship’s crew and the psychological consequences of the brutal negotiation, that drives the ship owner to the edge of madness. Inspired by a true story. Brilliantly acted.

This drama is based on the true story of Bryan Stevenson, a young Harvard graduate who moved to Alabama in the 80s to defend wrongly accused prisoners on death row. He’s played by Michael B. Jordan, who brings to the surface the unstoppable determination and ambition of the character. Components that were necessary to go on such a difficult task, especially with the racist barriers at the time. Not to mention, no one had ever been released from death row in the history of Alabama at that point. An inspiring and well-acted movie, made by Short Term 12 director Destin Daniel Cretton.

This mortifying stop-motion fairy-tale is inspired by the very real horrors of Chile’s Colonia Dignidad: a cult colony turned torture camp under the Pinochet regime. Presented as colony propaganda, the tale tells the story of Maria, a girl who runs away from the safety of the colony into the forest and takes refuge in a house with two pigs. What transpires is a gut-wrenching allegory for the rise of fascism, colonialism, and white supremacy. 

The staggering animation which seamlessly shifts mediums from paper mâché to painted walls is a bewildering sight to witness. But it’s the synthesis of this boundary-pushing art and the underlying horrors it depicts, that make this stand as an unmissable cinematic event.

Education is a human right, but for many girls around the world, this isn’t necessarily guaranteed– especially if they want to learn past the required years of basic education. Yuni is a coming-of-age drama that depicts a girl in West Java, Indonesia who wants to go to university, but due to the marriage and virginity culture in the area, her main problem isn’t having to pass the entrance exams, or figuring out how to get financial aid. Instead, it’s having to fend off marriage proposals that clearly don’t come from a place of love. Writer-director Kamila Andini depicts the titular protagonist with the freedoms rarely granted to a girl like her, with the happiness and belonging all girls should be able to find solace in, but she also depicts the casual ways oppression lingers in the background, with society just waiting to kill women’s dreams, hopes, and personal goals. Yuni is an honest and powerful portrait of many women around the globe.

Organized crime and drug dealing has been a topic of many a film, sometimes even glamorizing the whole endeavor, but rarely do these depictions acknowledge the weight it can do to a culture, particularly indigenous cultures. Birds of Passage is a film about drug dealers, but it’s a much more distinct take, tackling Colombia’s reputation for the drug trade through the lens of an indigenous group that hasn’t been totally colonized, that still keeps its language, rituals, and legends, but is still pushed to the brink due to far more lucrative reasons. It does take fairly familiar plot points, but Birds of Passages transforms the narco crime drama with a different direction.

Robin Hood might be a centuries old folk hero, but his reincarnations seem to pop up in real life, including the true story behind Dying to Survive. Alternatively translated as I’m Not A Medicine God, the modern day Chinese iteration is initially less concerned over the common good and more concerned with money. It makes for a much more humorous take, as the ordinary peddler bribes, smuggles, and asserts his desire for profit, but it also sets up the real desperation created by a medical drug industry that hopes to incentivize research and protect consumers, but inadvertently blocks the very people that needs said drugs. Dying to Survive might focus more on the smuggler than critiquing this conundrum, but nonetheless it understands the real recurring tragedy that modern life can’t seem to completely solve.

A mother and her two children move from Colombia to Queens, New York to join the father. Once there, he abandons them and moves to Miami.

With no family to fall back on, barely speaking English, an inexistent social welfare system and two little kids who require care; the mother quickly runs out of options. At first, she tries to sell empanadas in the street, then tries to become a temporary worker, but a mixture of obstacles keeps getting in the way.

Entre Nos is about the precariousness of the immigrant experience: about how quickly things can go wrong. But it’s also about how survival instincts and motherly love can stand in the face of complete desperation.

Due to the possibility of death, Buoyancy cannot be made as a documentary. This film, after all, sheds light on today’s real life slavery. But that doesn’t mean it’s no less true. The script was written based on interviews with real life survivors, who, of course, would rather not be filmed due to their safety. The characters were written to closely reflect them, which was why, even though the studio is Australian, they casted Thai and Cambodian actors, and wrote the dialogue in their respective languages. And the story that writer-director Rodd Rathjen created, gradually escalates the terror Chakra faces on the whims of a cruel captain, with each new experience slowly scrapping off the innocence that was supposed to be protected. Buoyancy is not a documentary, but it works as a necessary exposé of slavery in Southeast Asian seas because of Rathjen sticking true to the sadly real life atrocity.

It’s not often you get a female perspective on the USSR, much less a female artist with little means. Signe Baumane’s autobiographical My Love Affair With Marriage is one of the few ones, and not only is her story raw and refreshing, it’s also told through lovely animation and musical numbers. The result is something truly novel. Baumane analyzes ideas like love, marriage, gender, and society through an unapologetically feminist lens. But she’s careful not to be patronizing too. Instead of condemning her circumstances, she gives it context and shows empathy. Some parts are delightful, others distressing, but Baumane’s character (voiced by Succession’s Dagmara Dominczyk) is compelling throughout.

Dramatizing the murder of Hatun “Aynur” Sürücü, A Regular Woman frames her story from her dispassionate narration after she’s passed. This results in a harrowing tale. Knowing her death before she returns home paints every single moment with her family in fury, as they pin every frustration and blame on Aynur for numerous reasons, the biggest is due to not aligning to their ideal of a Muslim wife. It also highlights the failures the German government committed in addressing this issue, the same failures that they could repeat if nothing has changed since her death. A Regular Woman is harrowing, not just because Aynur’s tale is true, but because it acknowledges right on the bat how it can happen again.

The real life situation behind this harrowing drama is quite extraordinary, so adapting Daniel Rye’s captivity straightforwardly would already intrigue viewers into watching it. However, Held for Ransom does more than depict his torture. Alternating between his captivity and the fundraising efforts back home, the film examines the way they have all responded to the unimaginable, the horrible experience that they have gone through because of extremism. The imprisonment sets the stakes, but the humanity held onto by the hostages, the fierce love of Daniel’s family that would bring him home, and the human cost of non-negotiation pushes this story into somewhere new.

A heart-wrenching tribute to victims of natural disasters that is one of despair, suffering, and hope. And it wouldn’t be so damning if it weren’t based off a true story surrounding the tragedy that killed more than 230,000 people. Boxing Day 2004 was one of the most memorable dates for wedded couple, Henry (Ewan McGregor) and Maria (Naomi Watts, for an Oscar nominated performance). Just two days prior, they arrived at Orchid Beach Resort in Thailand to celebrate the Christmas holidays together with their three children. After a squabble with the crew regarding their room reservations, they are granted the privilege of staying in a peaceful villa and all seems to be well. Nature had other plans in mind, though, and facing it head-on is the bittersweet reality.

Polytechnique directed by Denis Villeneuve, is a dramatization of the 1989 Montreal massacre of multiple female engineering students. This film focuses on a male student navigating the massacre for the majority of the film’s run time. The performances and minimal dialogue in this film certainly make this an unnerving film to watch. Littered with the screams of the actors portraying the engineering students, this could be mistaken as a gaudy horror film. However, this is far from a fictionalized horror.

This Villeneuve classic is undoubtedly one of the most emotionally brutal films of the 2000s, yet I appreciate the honesty of the storytelling. Polytechnique encourages its audience to ask itself if it truly understands the truth of misogyny. 

When depicting war and faith, it seems like men are the only ones that have to undertake these challenges, at least it seems, in the stories made available about these topics. But that simply isn’t true. The Innocents is one of the few reminders that, while women might have been kept from the front lines, war has spared no one. Through stark and wintry shots, and a solemn direction, writer-director Anne Fontaine crafts tense conversations between an atheist doctor and her nun patients, making all of them reckon with the ways trauma has shifted their present principles and future actions, in a sensitive way that has rarely been seen before. While the resolution can come across as a bit too sudden, The Innocents nonetheless is a compelling study of faith.

When German forces occupy Paris in 1942, a close-knit Jewish family tearfully sends their two youngest sons, Jo and Maurice, to escape the city on foot, with promises that they will all eventually be reunited in the Free Zone in the South. Told from the perspective of Jo – and based on the 1973 memoir of Joseph Joffo – what follows is a story of adventure, discovery, loss, love and the resilience of family bonds. A tapestry of cherished memories woven together with traumatic ones, the tone shifts again and again as Jo and his brother reach the bright shores of Nice––before they are driven to hiding again. Above all else, this is a story about the power of a family’s love, and of children who rise against the odds by their own courage and tenacity.

It’s an incredible story, but it’s one that only really deserves to be told a certain way, which director Arthur Harari gets right. Onoda’s one-man crusade to continue World War II is nothing short of delusional, and Harari spends most of the film following the soldier as his companions die one by one, worsening his delusions even further. Unfortunately, even with how impressively strange this story is, 10,000 Nights in the Jungle still misses the opportunity to look through the lens of Onoda’s victims. He is, after all, a literal embodiment of colonization’s lingering effects, so it’s sad that the Philippines here is just window dressing more than anything.

Shakespeare is a classic, not just because of the tales it adapts, but because of the innovation he made in the English language. Because of this, not every film adaptation gets this aspect right, but the one that gets the closest was Kenneth Branaugh’s Henry V in 1989. With his beginnings in theater, Branaugh steadies his directorial debut with the strength of the performances, including his own in the title role, which incorporates the language in a more accessible way. Younger viewers might prefer the straightforward prose of the latest iteration of Henry V, but Shakespeare purists would surely prefer this classic adaptation, the very debut that led Kenneth Branagh to be best known for Shakespeare adaptations.

Séraphine is a biopic, but it’s not your ordinary rags-to-riches story where a cleaning lady’s paintings lead her to getting plucked from obscurity and living happily ever after. It’s a bit more tragic than that. If anything, the life she’s lived before she was famous is calmer, peaceful, and more fulfilling. Carving up time from her housekeeping job to create unique pigments and use them for her own artworks, Séraphine doesn’t paint for fame, fortune, or reputation. Instead, she paints because she can. Something about the way she goes through her mundane life opens up insights most people don’t get. Séraphine attempts to capture that genius in some of the most beautiful candlelit images ever put to screen.

The worst has happened in A Wolf at the Door. With Sylvia finding out that her child was picked up from school by an unknown stranger, it’s up to her to figure out what has happened. Already, the premise is terrifying. Writer-director Fernando Coimbra starts this mystery through the police interrogations, with the camera focused on possible suspects. He follows them with flashbacks, with each new sequence shifting the way each character gets perceived. Crime thriller aficionados would likely predict the perpetrator with an early reveal of an important clue, but the story that unfolds into unexpectedly dark ends. It’s a chilling way to depict this true-to-life story.

At first glance, The Madness of King George seemed like a history lesson about King George III. Like plenty of British royalty dramas, the film has all the opulent trappings in its sets and costumes, as well as some of the best actors from the British isles. However, unlike other depictions of the monarchy, the film depicts the king not as a benevolent ruler or oppressive tyrant– instead, King George III is terribly human, with his memory failing, being unsettled by loss, and concern over his health, which involves having to look at his urine. But the historical satire, based on the 1991 stage play, still manages to have the same mockery towards the opportunistic court, while still retaining sympathy for the very nobility it mocks, through original playwright Alan Bennett’s adept writing, as well as the excellent performance of the stacked ensemble cast.

We mostly think of objects as just stuff to buy, to sell, to give, and to throw away, but for many musicians, their instruments are quite important to them. The Red Violin takes it to the extreme– with the titular instrument infused with the life force of a human– but the film justifies this passion, the pain, and the cost through one of the most beautiful violin scores ever made, and through an ambitious series of vignettes spanning across four centuries and five countries. As the object passes hands, and the owners live, and play, and die, The Red Violin suggests that while these artists’ lives are fleeting, there’s still something human and important in chasing the sublime, and this instrument is just proof of it.

In response to violence, some people consider aggression as the only solution, especially in a place that cannot rely on institutions– fighting fire with fire, but fighting for the good. Tyrannosaur depicts a British town with men that only operate on a mix of this idea, but this rage becomes relentless, unceasing, and never lies to rest, oftentimes at the expense of those more vulnerable around them. The debut feature from indie anti-hero actor Paddy Considine is downright depressing and it’s not an easy watch, but there’s no denying that Tyrannosaur feels incredibly personal and the stellar performances from the three leads makes this bleak drama so compelling to watch.

Horse riding. Gunslinging. Revenge and protection. These are notable elements in a Western, Spaghetti or otherwise. But rarely do these movies contemplate the indigenous tribes that originally lived in these desert towns, right before they were chased away and killed by white colonizers. Writer-director Felipe Gálvez Haberle takes these elements to showcase a new perspective in The Settlers, with mestizo Chilean sharpshooter Segundo forced to inflict atrocities onto his fellow native Chileans by the orders of a wealthy Spanish landowner, a British officer, and an American mercenary. The landscapes captured are sublime, the portraits are vignetted, but what’s most striking is the way Gálvez mixes in cinematic Western film style with real life colonial history, dramatic conflict with historical detail on a rarely discussed genocide.

It’s not easy to watch films about child abuse, so it makes sense that This Boy’s Life wouldn’t be a hit blockbuster, but it’s still surprising how this 90’s film still remains an underrated gem. For starters, big names like Robert De Niro and Leonardo DiCaprio (in his breakthrough role), star as leads, and their performances are top-notch. But what ultimately makes the film a good movie to watch is how surprisingly nuanced it depicts child abuse and neglect. Part of this nuance is due to being based on a true memoir, but director Michael Caton-Jones and writer Robert Getchell capture the insidious way abuse can start and become normalized in a household while still highlighting the ways survivors can escape. It’s not an easy watch, but This Boy’s Life is a moving drama that deserves more time in the sun.

There are few places more sacred than the hair salon. Sure, it’s not a place of worship, or a singular unique landmark, or a place where huge decisions are decided by any of the world’s governments, but part of the reason why it’s so ubiquitous is because the hair salon will make or break a life depending on the cut that was made. Steel Magnolias is centered around a salon in a small Louisiana town, and as Dolly Parton as Trudy cuts the townswomen’s hair, she also becomes a refuge for the women too, sharing their worries, doubts, fears, as well as their joy and happiness. It’s such an endearing portrait, one that happened to be made in honor of screenwriter Robert Harling’s sister, and that genuine emotion is the very reason this comedy drama has become a classic.

Thirteen Lives is a taut, no-nonsense film that smartly forgoes dramatizing an already well-known case and, instead, hones in on the excruciating but impressive ordeal that is rescue diving. The divers are played by Viggo Mortensen and Colin Farrell, both of whom are convincing in their expertise and heroism. But this isn’t to say this story is theirs. Howard does well to center the narrative on the locals and even makes use of their language, Thai, for most of the film’s run. It’s as sensitively told as it is genuinely gripping.

In Swan Song, acclaimed actor Udo Kier stars as the real-life Pat Pitsenbarger, a local queer legend in the small town of Sandusky. He used to live a private but joyful life, beautifying socialities by day and performing in drag at night. But now the aging icon is resigned to live out his days in a bleak retirement home, where he takes part in feeble acts of rebellion to keep himself amused. This is bound to change when Pat returns to town on an oddly specific request. There, he makes peace with old friends and grabs at the chance to revive his inner beauty queen once more. 

It’s a simple story with a simple premise, but Swan Song is elevated by Krier’s powerful presence and director Todd Stephens’ obvious love for his hometown. Every diss Krier drops as the sassy Pat is to be savored, and every tribute Stephens makes to town life is to be admired. Filled, too, with colorful and euphoric moments that celebrate gay pride, Swan Song makes for quite the lovable film. 

Irish period drama Monster is downright depressing. Of course, for some viewers, that’s just part and parcel of any period drama– without the scientific advancement, the philosophical debates, and the sheer convenience of the modern world, it can be easy to imagine a bleak past. But, like some of the best depressing period dramas, Monster makes clear just how bad things were and what we should never do again. Through depicting An Gorta Mór, or the Great Famine of Ireland, in the eyes of a small village, through visualizing the story so many people from Ireland have heard from previous generations, and through its strong performances, Arracht is a striking reminder of the trauma deliberately struck upon Ireland, the memory that is still strongly felt today.

From the director of Drive comes Bronson, the true story of a man who was sentenced to seven years in prison but ends up spending three decades in solitary confinement. Tom Hardy is phenomenal in this dark comedy. His character is so likable and you quickly feel sorry for what he is going through. No one can help him no matter how much he asks for it. Bronson has class, great acting, hilarious comedy, and a true story backing it up. There is nothing not to love about this film.

This is a slow but well-made movie about a Jehovah’s Witness family, directed by a former member of the organization.

The family is made of Alex, her mother, and her older sister. Alex follows her mother and her religious teachings with the utmost loyalty, especially as she refuses a blood transfusion that is crucial to her health. Her older sister starts showing signs of independence by lying to her friends about her family’s faith and dating a Muslim man.

Apostasy is about family bonds versus belief bonds. It’s not a movie that judges or preaches, rather it simply portrays the complex situations that structured religion creates.

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.

Shattered Glass tells the unbelievably true story of Stephen Glass, a popular and promising young journalist at The New Republic. Stephen’s storytelling skills are sought out not just by his admiring colleagues but by other publications as well, so when a rival journalist from Forbes finds holes in one of Stephen’s stories, no one takes the accusation seriously at first—except perhaps for Charles Lane, Stephen’s editor. Immune to Stephen’s charms, Charles digs for the truth and tries, despite an alarming lack of support, to pursue what’s right.

Set in the ’90s, Shattered Glass may be a throwback to old-school journalism, but its ideas about the integrity of facts still hold water, especially in an age fraught with rampant disinformation.

Bryan Cranston, best known for his role as Walter White in the Breaking Bad series, stars as Robert Mazur, a federal agent, who goes undercover to infiltrate the trafficking network of Colombian drug kingpin Pablo Escobar. With the film based on Mazur’s memoir, Bryan Cranston gives an impressive lead performance that captures the intense distress that deep cover can bring. Besides Cranston, co-stars Benjamin Bratt, Diane Kruger, Amy Ryan, and an exceptional John Leguizamo are entirely persuasive and make the film experience enjoyable and intense. The Infiltrator is entertaining and maintains a good pace, with a great cast that makes it a true joy to watch, especially for those who enjoy stories based on real criminals. 

While it plays the standard beats of the musician biopic, Ray is a fairly entertaining biopic centered on Ray Charles, the man that pioneered soul music, mixing in rhythm and blues, jazz, and gospel into a brand new sound. It goes through plenty of the melodramatic moments familiar to the genre– the prior hardships, the drug addiction, and of course, the moments of musical bliss– and there are some fictionalized moments, but Jamie Foxx’s excellent portrayal and Charles’ tunes are able to carry the film all the way through. Though the way Charles was parented in childhood is a tough watch, and isn’t the best way to parent, Ray sticks true to the singer’s life, with every scene personally approved by the legend before his death.

With his outstanding record of resisting the Nazis, Max Manus seems like a pretty cool guy. The well-travelled soldier volunteered for his country when he could have stayed an ocean away, and he helped organize the resistance against the Germans when he could have just kept his head down. It’s no wonder that he was commemorated in the biopic Max Manus: Man of War. However, like many biopics, Man of War focused more on the historical accuracy instead of crafting a narrative that coherently depicts his core beliefs and character development. His incredible exploits are still entertaining. It’s amazing to see the dangerous work he pulled off in the name of his country. Max Manus: Man of War is one of many World War II biopics, but it nonetheless celebrates an underrated hero that fought in a rarely acknowledged warfront.

In certain heartbreaking instances, children are separated from their parents by the State, supposedly in hopes of finding them a better home. But for plenty of British and commonwealth orphans, the government process is, at worst, systematically designed to separate families to support the Kingdom’s colonies. While the film isn’t really focused on the details and the rationale behind the program, Oranges and Sunshine is much more concerned with the fact that it happened– that it has harmed hundreds of thousands of children for hundred years, and that it only took someone who cared enough to pay attention for things to actually change. It’s a decent depiction of Margaret Humphreys’ work, and it does a great job in promoting the Child Migrants Trust.

Of course, with wartime spy romances, it’s expected to have conflicted desire, twisty betrayals, and the internal war between personal love and national duty. Black Book delivers this in spades, infusing the drama with writer-director Paul Verhoeven’s propensity for sex and violence, which he brings back to his homeland after two decades apart. The drama is well-made, especially with the talented Carice van Houten as a survival-first composite spy character inspired by several resistance members, but the familiar plot, the melodrama, and the pacing can make the 2 and a half hour runtime feel a bit tedious for some viewers. Still, for fans of the genre, Black Book isn’t a terrible choice to watch.

If you wanted to watch an epic historical drama about the three assassination attempts against the first emperor of China, 2002’s Hero is the better known, and better acclaimed, choice. Nevertheless, the drama that depicted this four years earlier, the Emperor and the Assassin, is a fairly decent watch, with nearly three hours to parse out Ying Zheng’s career with extravagant production design and excellent performances to marvel at. The film is also slightly more accurate, taking its characters from actual historical record. The Emperor and the Assassin may not be perfect– it’s aggressively sepia-tinged, and it does struggle to maintain the plot’s focus– but it depicts the history well, regardless.

When it comes to films depicting America’s history of racism, many white produced films tend to be centered on a white savior. At best, this is just patting each other on the back for actions done a generation or two ago. At worst, it tends to be outright historical revisionism. The difference between these and The Long Walk is that, while clearly made for a white audience, the film doesn’t crown Sissy Spacek’s character as a messiah, but her choice to help the boycott anyway is a message worth depicting, even if it’s small, even if it isn’t the typical, single-handed salvation Hollywood is used to doling out. While the white narrator adds unnecessary distance, and while it would have been better to see more of Whoopi Goldberg in the non-comic role of Odessa Cotter, The Long Walk cares about the everyday, and that’s what makes it mostly work.

While the police haven’t been getting a good rep in recent years, there were times when cops actually got the job done, and went after the gangs that we individuals can’t. Kang Yun-seong’s narrative feature debut is based on the real-life Yanbian Heuksapa Incident, and what’s interesting is that along with having Ma Dong-seok deliver some of the finest and most entertaining fight scenes, there’s a sense that these cops actually care about people, like when Seok-do urges his boss to be gentle towards their team after having to stay in the office longer, or when he reaches out and works directly with the community. The Outlaws doesn’t transform the genre, but it’s well-written, well-choreographed, and held together through the strength of Ma Dong-seok’s charisma (and arms). It’s no wonder director Kang and Don Lee managed to transform this into a sprawling franchise, something to be akin to Korea’s Fast & Furious.

When talking about resistance against colonial powers, nonviolent resistance, inspired by Mahatma Gandhi, is oftentimes touted as the most righteous and morally correct path to take. However, most people forget that this violence is done in response to the violence enacted upon them, and that violent resistance has worked alongside the non-violent path, with a serious rationale behind their methods. The Legend of Bhagat Singh remembers one of the Indian revolutionaries that devoted their lives to the cause, though in a different way from Gandhi. The film has some inaccuracies, and it emphasized the romance he might have had with the unmarried woman later known as Bhagat’s widow, but the Legend of Bhagat Singh is an interesting portrait of a revolutionary that needs to be discussed more.

While Hollywood still makes some films in this genre, there are less historical epics being released, in part due to cost, but also in part due to having had so many, ever since the start of the medium. However, there are some historical events that we rarely see on film, and one of them is The Great Battle. Set before the formation of a united Korea, the film is a classic standoff against a larger army, that has all the swordfighting and armies we’ve come to expect, but it’s also grounded by the dynamic between a young warrior sent to assassinate, and the hardened, brilliant commander whose leadership kept the troops protected. While there are moments that definitely eludes historical accuracy, and there are some subplots that distract from the main conflict, The Great Battle is a fairly entertaining historical epic to watch, especially when focused on the action-packed clashes and the spectacular warfare.

There are people in life that have a one of a kind voice that you can’t help but listen to, as they provide different perspectives that challenge your own in compelling ways. The Whole Wide World tries to capture the fairly elusive pulp fiction writer Robert E. Howard, but through the perspective of the one love he once had, Novalyne Price. It’s a unique perspective, one that contrasts the choices the real life couple made that diverged their paths– pursuing the road less travelled over what’s socially expected– and director Dan Ireland crafts some pulp-like moments, especially with the rousing score and the excellent performances. That being said, Ireland does play it safe with his debut, as The Whole Wide World leaves things as vague as Howard did in his relationship with Price.

As far as heroic biopics go, One Life is fairly standard, if not a bit forgettable. The film’s monotonous pace and less-than-compelling drama don’t quite match the extraordinary real-life feats of the British stockbroker who helped transport hundreds of Jewish children from Nazi-occupied Prague into Britain. The beats are familiar, the dialogue even more so. But there is one saving grace here, and that’s Anthony Hopkins, who plays the stockbroker in question, Nicky Winton, with such believable grace. Hopkins effortlessly relays the heavy guilt of his character, and when he finally breaks down by the film’s climax, you can’t help but cry with him. Everything else about the film, including the flashbacks to young Nicky, played by Johnny Flynn, could be stronger, but as it stands, One Life serves as an effective enough reminder to stand up for what’s right and be proud of that act, no matter how seemingly small or singular.

Artists take what’s intimate and personal and transform it into art, but, especially for those who became famous for their work, it can feel challenging to tackle certain subjects, profit from it, and make it part and parcel of your artistic identity, especially when it stems from personal trauma. Things Behind the Sun depicts a rock singer who became famous on her song about rape. It’s a tad harrowing, and the flashbacks get rather graphic, but through focusing primarily on Sherry’s journey and not forcing forgiveness between the characters, Things Behind the Sun is able to capture what it means to survive the horrible, to confront it again, and to actually heal.

When a student is accused of stealing something as small as a five shilling postal order, it just seems so miniscule that expelling the child, and the child’s family suing the college, can seem all rather ridiculous. And yet, that is exactly what happened in London just before the world war, a nationwide viral case that ended up to be depicted in The Winslow Boy. The mail order may seem small, and the court proceedings do feel sometimes tedious, but The Winslow Boy shines through its performances, the style, and the insistence to stand up for the truth, even when it means going against societal pressures and hierarchies to have truth recognized.

Like many films about beloved pets, your enjoyment of A Street Cat Named Bob depends on how much you love the titular animal. As such, cat people would delight in how cute the actual true-to-life ginger feline looks on screen, while dog people would disapprove at the gruff way dogs are portrayed here. But for viewers who don’t have a preference for either animal, A Street Cat Named Bob might go through fairly cliché feel good moments, but it’s somewhat justified given the way it depicts that real human-pet relationship not as just a cute thing, but as a lifeline, as a crucial redirection of love and care that couldn’t have been given to by one’s self, and a connection that was necessary. A Street Cat Named Bob is familiar feel-good stuff, but it’s sincere and cute enough to still be enjoyable.