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The sheer volume of films on Netflix — and the site’s less than ideal interface — can make finding a genuinely great movie there a difficult task. To help, we’ve plucked out the 50 best films currently streaming on the service in the United States, updated regularly as titles come and go. And as a bonus, we link to more great movies on Netflix within many of our write-ups below. (Note: Streaming services sometimes remove titles or change starting dates without giving notice.)
Here are our lists of the best TV shows on Netflix, the best movies on Amazon Prime Video and the best of everything on Hulu and Disney Plus.
Patricia Highsmith’s second novel, “The Price of Salt,” is sensitively and intelligently adapted by the director Todd Haynes into this companion to his earlier masterpiece “Far From Heaven.” Cate Blanchett is smashing as a suburban ’50s housewife who finds herself so intoxicated by a bohemian shopgirl (an enchanting Rooney Mara) that she’s willing to risk her entire comfortable existence in order, just once, to follow her heart. Our critic said it’s “at once ardent and analytical, cerebral and swooning.”
‘Glass Onion’ (2022)
The writer and director Rian Johnson follows up his Agatha Christie-style whodunit hit “Knives Out” with this delightfully clever comedy-mystery, featuring the further adventures of the world’s greatest detective, Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig, still outfitted with neckerchiefs and a deliciously Southern-fried accent). Johnson constructs a “classic detective story with equal measures of breeziness and rigor,” again focusing on the haves and have-nots, as a gang of rich pals (including Kate Hudson, Leslie Odom Jr., Dave Bautista and Kathryn Hahn) meet up on the isolated island of a Silicon Valley millionaire (Edward Norton). Janelle Monáe, not unlike Ana de Armas in the original, steals the show as the interloper who’s not what she seems.
‘A League of Their Own’ (1992)
Penny Marshall directed this wildly entertaining sports comedy based on the true story of the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League, who barnstormed the United States while its boys were off fighting in World War II. Geena Davis is in top form as “Dottie” Hinson, the catcher and star of the Rockford Peaches, while Tom Hanks is uproariously funny as Jimmy Dugan, the team’s ostensible (and reliably drunken) manager. Rosie O’Donnell, Lori Petty, Jon Lovitz and Madonna round out the ace ensemble cast, with the latter winningly and winkingly using her real-life good-time-girl persona to earn several big laughs. Our critic called it “one of the year’s most cheerful, most relaxed, most easily enjoyable comedies.” (Hanks also shines, in a much more dramatic turn, in “Captain Phillips.”)
‘Bad Boys’ (1995)
Recall, if you will, the heady mid-1990s, when Michael Bay, an ambitious young director of commercials and music videos, made his feature debut with a buddy-cop movie originally written for Dana Carvey and Jon Lovitz. Instead, it became the movie that confirmed that Will Smith and Martin Lawrence (then known primarily as sitcom actors) were big-screen material, and understandably so — both are hip, funny and credible in Bay’s already over-the-top action sequences. Their formulaic shenanigans are boosted considerably by Téa Leoni’s charismatic supporting work as the woman they’re tasked with protecting, as well as a funny turn by Joe Pantoliano as their perpetually annoyed captain. (For more buddy comedy, stream “The Nice Guys.”)
‘White Noise’ (2022)
The writer and director Noah Baumbach expands his typical small scale into something resembling spectacle — without sacrificing his customary attentiveness to the details of character and dialogue. His protagonists are Jack (Adam Driver) and Babette (Greta Gerwig), two intellectuals doing their best in the middle of the Reagan era to cling to their progressive principles — and later, their very lives, after their surrounding area is driven into panic and paranoia by an “airborne toxic event.” Don DeLillo’s acclaimed novel of the same name was published in 1985, but you don’t have to read too closely between the lines to see its parallels with current events, particularly as DeLillo’s and Baumbach’s characters stumble into something resembling normal life. Our critic called it “a frequently funny movie that is also utterly in earnest.” (Baumbach’s “Marriage Story” and “The Meyerowitz Stories (New and Selected)” are also on Netflix.)
Al Pacino and Robert De Niro, twin titans of their acting generation, had never shared the screen before the writer and director Michael Mann put them on opposite sides of the law in this moody, thrilling cops-and-robbers story from 1995. (Although they appeared in separate sequences of “The Godfather Part II.”) Mann gives that matchup the proper weight: By the time it arrives halfway into this expansive, three-hour movie, we’re expecting fireworks, and we get them. But the best surprise is that there’s so much more to “Heat” than The Big Scene — it features a cool-as-a-cucumber heist scene, a heart-stopping shootout on the streets of Los Angeles, multiple meditations on the nature of obsession, stylish cinematography, and a jaw-dropping deep bench of supporting players. That scene, though. It’s really something. (If you love crime epics, try Martin Scorsese’s “The Departed.”)
‘Black Hawk Down’ (2001)
The journalist Mark Bowden wrote about the 1993 United States military raid in Mogadishu, Somalia, in his 1999 nonfiction book of the same name. That book took its title from the downing of two American helicopters that raised the stakes of the mission, and this film adaptation from the director Ridley Scott dramatizes that harrowing episode and the battle that followed with horrifying immediacy and visceral terror. Scott manages, as few filmmakers have, to capture the feeling of helplessness that armed conflict can provoke and the camaraderie that becomes the foot soldier’s last hope. Marshaling a large cast of up-and-comers (including Ewan McGregor, Josh Hartnett, Eric Bana and Tom Hardy) and first-rate character actors (Sam Shepard, Tom Sizemore and Zeljko Ivanek), Scott comes up with one of the most powerful war films of recent years. (Scott’s “American Gangster” is also on Netflix.)
‘Chicken Run’ (2000)
Aardman Animations, the British stop-motion studio behind the Oscar-winning Wallace and Gromit shorts, made its feature debut with this delightful cross between barnyard farce and prison escape caper, in which a headstrong hen enlists a cocky circus rooster to help her and her friends flee their henhouse before the evil farmer turns them into pies. The animation is, per the company’s standard, breathtakingly meticulous. But parents will enjoy this one as much as their kids do, as the directors Nick Park and Peter Lord inject copious doses of British wit and winking nods to classic adventure movies. Our critic called it “immensely satisfying, a divinely relaxed and confident film.”
Steven Soderbergh won the Academy Award for best director for this tough, wise and somewhat cynical take on the war on drugs. He tells it in three interlocking stories, all captured with the energy of a ground-level documentary. The result is a panorama of a film, its variety of styles and aesthetics masterfully matching the geopolitical complexity of its subject. The performances are stunning, with standout turns by Benicio del Toro (who won an Oscar for the role) as a good cop trying to play both sides of the fence, Catherine Zeta-Jones as a California housewife whose husband’s arrest brings out her inner kingpin, and Michael Douglas as the political expert who discovers exactly how much he doesn’t know.
‘Starship Troopers’ (1997)
The director Paul Verhoeven pulled one of the great bait-and-switches of the modern blockbuster era with this 1997 sci-fi and action hybrid, which lured in viewers with the promise of laser-toting heroes vaporizing giant bug creatures. It delivered that action, but then surrounded it with a merciless satire, in which a futuristic authoritarian government uses propaganda and jingoism to convince its youth to die cheerfully for the flag. His young, pretty cast — including Denise Richards, Casper Van Dien, Neil Patrick Harris and Dina Meyer — plays the material absolutely straight, which somehow renders it especially disturbing.
‘Friday Night Lights’ (2004)
Two years before developing it into the critically acclaimed TV drama, the director Peter Berg adapted Buzz Bissinger’s nonfiction book about the high stakes and big emotions of Texas high school football into this graceful, affecting drama. Billy Bob Thornton is subtly superb as the team’s coach, gingerly attempting to navigate high expectations and the pressure on his players (who are well aware that their success on the field may be their only way out of their small town). Connie Britton is also marvelous in the embryonic version of her television role as the coach’s wife; Garrett Hedlund, Derek Luke, Jay Hernandez and Amber Heard all shine as players and students. (If you love coming-of-age stories, try George Lucas’s “American Graffiti.”)
‘Jerry Maguire’ (1996)
The writer and director Cameron Crowe nabbed five Oscar nominations for this charming romantic comedy, notable for its “disarming acting, colorful writing and true generosity of spirit.” One of those nominations was for Tom Cruise, at his very best as Jerry, a slick sports agent whose crisis of conscience changes the way he conducts his work — and by extension, his life. Cuba Gooding Jr. picked up the trophy for best supporting actor for his top-notch turn as Rod, Jerry’s star client, and Regina King is magnificent as Marcee, Rod’s no-nonsense wife. Renée Zellweger’s heart-on-her-sleeve performance as Dorothy, Jerry’s unlikely romantic interest, turned her into a major star.
‘Emily the Criminal’ (2022)
The thumbnail summary — “Aubrey Plaza becomes a thief” — conjures up a bone-dry comedy in which her deadpan persona creates ironic friction with the criminal underworld. But “Emily the Criminal” isn’t that movie at all; it’s a “chilly, assured thriller,” a Michael Mann-ish procedural with nary a wink in sight, and it absolutely (albeit surprisingly) works. The writer and director John Patton Ford creates moments of real tension while also giving what feels like an insider’s view of this world of thieves and hustlers. And if Plaza’s turn as a deep-in-debt temp worker trying her hand at life on the margins sounds like novelty casting, think again — she’s spectacular. (For more indie drama, try “Leave No Trace” or “We the Animals.”)
‘Inside Man’ (2006)
An armed robber (Clive Owen) takes over a Wall Street bank, holding its clerks and customers hostage, but this is no mere “Dog Day Afternoon” riff. The gunman’s exact motives are a puzzle, confounding the brilliant N.Y.P.D. hostage negotiator (Denzel Washington) at its center. The director Spike Lee gives what could’ve been a bank-job retread a palpable sense of time and place, and fills his frames with New York characters: wiseguy cops, seen-it-all looky-loos, and slick power brokers (Jodie Foster and Christopher Plummer). But his most fascinating character is Owen’s master criminal. It’s a dazzling and rambunctious crime movie, with a humdinger of an ending.
In the aftermath of a raging zombie apocalypse, it’s kill or be killed. And the primary pleasure of this double-barreled action comedy is the extent to which the screenwriters Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick have worked through the logistics of this hellscape, as articulated by the hero (Jesse Eisenberg) and his rules for survival. An introverted college student, he joins forces with Tallahassee (Woody Harrelson), a gunslinging cowboy type, and the sisters Wichita (Emma Stone) and Little Rock (Abigail Breslin) on a journey through the chaos. The director Ruben Fleischer keeps the laughs and gore coming at a steady clip — so thoroughly adopting the hip approach of “Ghostbusters” that Bill Murray even shows up to play along. (For more action and comedy, queue up “The Quick and the Dead.”)
Alfred Hitchcock rewrote the rules — of horror, of thrillers, of movies in general — with his low-budget but high-impact adaptation of Robert Bloch’s novel. Janet Leigh stars as a mild-mannered secretary (or so its original audiences thought) who swipes a fistful of cash from her employer and heads for the hills, only to unexpectedly meet her maker in the shower of the Bates Motel. Anthony Perkins co-stars as Norman Bates, the proprietor of the property who turns out to have some secrets and sins of his own to hide. “Mr. Hitchcock, an old hand at frightening people, comes at you with a club in this frankly intended blood-curdler,” our critic wrote. (Hitchcock’s “The Birds” and “Marnie” are also streaming on Netflix.)
‘Smokey and the Bandit’ (1977)
The collaborations of the superstar Burt Reynolds and his best buddy, the stuntman-turned-filmmaker Hal Needham, were widely derided in their time (and to be fair, the likes of “Stroker Ace” are indefensible). But this fast-paced chase comedy, their biggest hit and most duplicated effort, is a good old-fashioned hoot. Reynolds is at his charismatic best as the Bandit, a good ol’ boy with a Trans Am and a heavy foot, and Sally Field (his offscreen partner as well, for a time) is charming as a runaway bride who ends up in the passenger seat. But Jackie Gleason steals the show as Bandit’s nemesis, the sputtering Sheriff Buford T. Justice.
‘The Raid 2’ (2014)
If you’re looking for breathless, relentless action, you can’t do much better than Gareth Evans’s sequel to his 2012 cops-and-crooks extravaganza “The Raid: Redemption” (also on Netflix). Evans is a master of the bone-crunching set piece — the more participants and more unlikely the location, the better. The best of them is hard to pin down, but the extended subway confrontation between our hero, a man with a baseball bat and a woman with two furiously flying hammers is certainly a highlight. As our critic noted, “Neither its undercover drama nor its two-and-a-half-hour length bog down the bracing, and numerous, fight fests.” (For more action, stream “Léon: The Professional” or “Conan the Barbarian.”)
‘National Lampoon’s Animal House’ (1978)
This wild 1978 blockbuster launched the film career of John Belushi, the “slobs vs. snobs” comedy subgenre and the mainstream aspirations of the subversive humor magazine National Lampoon. With a randy screenplay by Harold Ramis, Douglas Kenney and Chris Miller, the movie follows a pair of misfit fraternity pledges (Tom Hulce and Stephen Furst) through their first semester at Faber College in 1962, complete with a deliriously funny rampage of food fights, toga parties, horse abductions and wrecked parades. The director John Landis engagingly orchestrates the chaos, with Belushi stealing every possible scene as the frat’s resident party animal. (For more wild comedy, try “This Is the End” and “The Hangover.”)
Plenty of filmmakers have livened up family movies by sliding in winking gags and pop culture references for the grown-ups. But few have done it as unapologetically (and successfully) as the “Pirates of the Caribbean” director Gore Verbinski, who livens up this story of a desert lizard’s adventure in several surprising ways. First, he constructs it as a kiddie “Chinatown,” with our hero stumbling into a Western town where the battle over water rights is getting ugly. And he apparently instructed his leading man, Johnny Depp, to voice the role as a riff on his turn as Hunter S. Thompson in “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,” even throwing in visual and verbal nods to that very R-rated adaptation. But Verbinski also doesn’t alienate the target audience: Children will likewise delight in this visually inventive and frequently funny treat. “This rambling, anarchic tale is gratifyingly fresh and eccentric,” our critic raved. (For more family viewing, try “Matilda” or “Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio.”)
‘Sleepless in Seattle’ (1993)
Tom Hanks is a sensitive widower who pours out his heart in a searching monologue on a radio call-in show; Meg Ryan, listening in, is so smitten that she travels across the country to track him down. That’s the premise of this “feather-light romantic comedy” from the writer and director Nora Ephron, who infuses her tale of love lost and found with plentiful homages to the classic tear-jerker “An Affair to Remember,” including a climactic meet-up atop the Empire State Building. This was Hanks and Ryan’s second onscreen collaboration (after “Joe Versus the Volcano”), though they spend most of it apart — amusingly so, as their near-misses prove both funny and poignant.
‘Julie & Julia’ (2009)
This “breezy, busy” comedy-drama from Nora Ephron is an adaptation of two books: one by Julie Powell, a blogger who attempted to work her way through all the recipes in Julia Child’s influential “Mastering the Art of French Cooking”; the other by Child, a memoir she wrote with Alex Prud’homme that details the development of those recipes. The juxtaposition is ingenious, giving the viewer two funny — and mouthwatering — movies for the price of one, and the performances (particularly by Meryl Streep as Child, Amy Adams as Powell and Stanley Tucci as Child’s devoted husband, Paul) are first-rate.
‘Begin Again’ (2014)
Seven years after his microbudget smash “Once,” the director John Carney took a big step up in size and scope for “Begin Again,” which features slick production value and marquee stars (specifically, Keira Knightley and Mark Ruffalo). Still, Carney maintains the indie spirit and storytelling style of his earlier film, spinning a tale of a romance that cannot be — instead manifesting itself in its protagonists’ shared love of music and the charge they get from creating it. It’s a feel-good, pick-me-up kind of a movie, one that lifts the spirit while avoiding conventional (and simplistic) happy endings.
Early in his career, the director Mike Nichols scored one of his greatest critical and commercial successes with “Carnal Knowledge,” a savagely funny and brutally candid account of the war between the sexes, as seen through the broken relationships of two men and two women. Near the end of his career, Nichols revisited the subject matter with a similar cast makeup, adapting the play “Closer” by Patrick Marber into a tough four-hander of sexual desire and emotional betrayal. Jude Law, Clive Owen, Natalie Portman and Julia Roberts play a full range of ruthlessness, cruelty, sensitivity and brokenness. It’s a challenging movie, but a great one. (Roberts also shines in “Steel Magnolias” and the Nichols-directed “Charlie Wilson’s War.”)
A struggling young actor named Sylvester Stallone became a worldwide superstar when he wrote himself the plum role of a C-list boxer who gets a shot at the championship. And it’s a star-making performance, with a vulnerability that the actor shed far too quickly. (This work is closer to Brando than Rambo.) John G. Avildsen directs in a modest, unaffected style that underlines the palooka’s solitude. The supporting cast is stunning, particularly Burgess Meredith’s turn as Rocky’s tough trainer, Mickey, and Talia Shire’s heartbreaking work as Adrian, the painfully shy object of Rocky’s affection. (The first and best of its sequels, “Rocky II,” is also on Netflix, as is Stallone’s “Cliffhanger.”)
‘Reservoir Dogs’ (1992)
Assembling an enviable ensemble cast of hard-boiled character actor types, a movie-savvy young writer and director named Quentin Tarantino shook up the clichés of the heist movie with this blood-soaked cult hit. Telling the story of a jewelry store robbery gone sideways, Tarantino’s clever script skipped over the robbery itself entirely, focusing instead on the assembly of the crew and their frayed nerves at a meet-up afterward. He further kept viewers off-balance with a scrambled chronology that reveals new complexities of plot and character with each scene, resulting in one of the most electrifying debut features of the ’90s indie scene. Our critic praised its “dazzling cinematic pyrotechnics and over-the-top dramatic energy.”
‘Easy A’ (2010)
This winking update to “The Scarlet Letter” has much to recommend it, including the witty and quotable screenplay, the sly indictments of bullying and rumor-mongering and the deep bench of supporting players. But “Easy A” is mostly memorable as the breakthrough of Emma Stone, an “irresistible presence” whose turn as a high-school cause célèbre quickly transformed her from a memorable supporting player to a soaring leading lady — and with good reason. She’s wise and wisecracking, quick with a quip but never less than convincing as a tortured teen.
Rachel Weisz and Rachel McAdams star as members of a strict Orthodox Jewish community whose shared past forcefully returns in this powerful drama from the director Sebastián Lelio (adapting Naomi Alderman’s novel). Ronit (Weisz), estranged from the community, returns following the death of her father and resumes her romance with Esti (McAdams), who has repressed her desires and entered a loveless marriage. Lelio approaches the material matter-of-factly, refusing to either sensationalize or desexualize the relationship; it’s a rare mainstream portrayal of same-sex attraction that considers both emotional and physical attraction on equal footing. (“Call Me By Your Name” is a similarly intense romantic drama.)
When the remains of the Clotilda, the last known ship to bring enslaved Africans to the United States, were discovered off the shore of Mobile, Ala., in 2019, it was physical evidence of a long-told piece of local lore — an illegal operation, long after such ships were outlawed, five years before emancipation. So this amounted to the excavation of a crime scene, prompting a giant question for the descendants of those victims: What does justice look like? Margaret Brown’s spellbinding documentary asks that question, which opens up many more thornier conversations about history, complicity and legacy. Our critic called it “deeply attentive” and “moving.” (Documentary lovers will also enjoy “What Happened, Miss Simone?” and “Sr.” )
It’s understandable to look upon a period literary biopic starring Keira Knightley and presume an object of arid stuffiness. But the director Wash Westmoreland gives us anything but — this is a rowdy, ribald picture, about a woman who wrote rowdy, ribald stories. She went from a shy innocent to a proud hedonist, and Westmoreland eagerly takes that journey alongside her. But he also dramatizes her intellectual awakening, and her insistence on being regarded as both a real writer and a full person. Manohla Dargis praised its “light, enjoyably fizzy approach to its subject.”
This forceful biopic from the director Antonio Campos dramatizes the life and death of Christine Chubbuck, the Florida news personality who killed herself on live television in 1974. What was, for years, a grisly footnote in television history is here rendered as a wrenching snapshot of mental illness, thanks to Craig Shilowich’s sensitive screenplay and Rebecca Hall’s stunning work as Chubbuck, a deeply felt turn in which every harsh word and casual slight lands like a body blow. (For more indie drama, try “The Swimmers” or “Happy as Lazzaro.”)
‘Richard Pryor: Live in Concert’ (1979)
In December of 1978, Richard Pryor took the stage of the Terrace Theater in Long Beach, Calif., and delivered what may still be the greatest recorded stand-up comedy performance in history. It captures the comic at his zenith; his insights are razor-sharp, his physical gifts are peerless, and his powers of personification are remarkable as he gives thought and voice to household pets, woodland creatures, deflating tires and uncooperative parts of his own body. But as with the best of Pryor’s stage work, what’s most striking is his vulnerability. In sharing his own struggles with health, relationships, sex and masculinity, Pryor was forging a path to the kind of unapologetic candor that defines so much of contemporary comedy.
‘If Beale Street Could Talk’ (2018)
Barry Jenkins followed up the triumph of his Oscar-winning “Moonlight” with this “anguished and mournful” adaptation of James Baldwin’s 1974 novel. It is, first and foremost, a love story, and the warmth and electricity Jenkins captures and conveys between stars KiKi Layne and Stephan James is overwhelming. But it’s also a love story between two African Americans in 1960s Harlem, and the delicacy with which the filmmaker threads in the troubles of that time, and the injustice that ultimately tears his main characters apart, is heart-wrenching. Masterly performances abound — particularly from Regina King, who won an Oscar for her complex, layered portrayal of a mother on a mission. (Other Oscar winners on Netflix include “Girl, Interrupted” and “Darkest Hour.”)
‘Straight Up’ (2020)
When Todd (James Sweeney) and Rory (Katie Findlay) first meet, they bond over a shared love of “Gilmore Girls.” That show’s rat-tat-tat dialogue, pop culture savvy and unabashed sentimentality are all over this unconventional romantic comedy. Sweeney also wrote and directed, augmenting the normally drab rom-com template with a cornucopia of quirky and unexpected visual flourishes, and his screenplay is painfully astute, displaying an enviable ear for how, with the right partner, the affectations and witticisms of dating give way to confession and vulnerability.
‘The Lost Daughter’ (2021)
The actor-turned-filmmaker Maggie Gyllenhaal writes and directs this adaptation of Elena Ferrante’s novel, starring Olivia Colman as a professor on vacation whose strained interactions with a large, unruly American family — particularly a young, stressed mother (Dakota Johnson) — send her down a rabbit hole of her memories, a switch-flip intermingling of past and present. There is a bit of back story to untangle, which turns the film into something like a mystery. But “The Lost Daughter” is mostly noteworthy for its willingness to explore the darkest moments of parenthood, the horrible feeling of giving up and longing for escape. Colman brings humanity and even warmth to a difficult character, while Jessie Buckley beautifully connects the dots as her younger iteration. Our critic calls it “a sophisticated, elusively plotted psychological thriller.” (The Gyllenhaal vehicle “The Kindergarten Teacher” is similarly unnerving.)
‘The Power of the Dog’ (2021)
“I wonder what little lady made these?” Phil (Benedict Cumberbatch) asks about the paper flowers created by Peter (Kodi Smit-McPhee) — the first indication of the initial theme of Jane Campion’s new film, an adaptation of the novel by Thomas Savage. Phil is a real piece of work, and when his brother and ranching partner George (Jesse Plemons) marries Peter’s mother, Rose (Kirsten Dunst), it brings all of Phil’s resentment and nastiness to the surface as he tries, in multiple, hostile ways, to exert his dominance and display his dissatisfaction. That tension and conflict would be enough for a lesser filmmaker, but Campion burrows deeper, taking a carefully executed turn to explore his complicated motives — and desires in this film of welcome complexity and unexpected tenderness; Manohla Dargis called it “a great American story and a dazzling evisceration of one of the country’s foundational myths.” (For more frontier drama, stream “Legends of the Fall.”)
The films of the director Robert Greene (including “Bisbee ’17” and “Kate Plays Christine”) live at the intersection of documentary, drama and process, intermingling fact, fictionalization and the difficulties of pursuing that most elusive of goals, truth. That mixture is particularly effective here, as the filmmaker spent three years collaborating with a professional drama therapist and six survivors of sexual abuse by Catholic priests in the Midwest to create a series of scenes inspired by their experiences — and the considerable emotional fallout that ensued. It’s a deeply moving and blisteringly powerful account of survival and support. (Documentary aficionados may also enjoy “Misha and the Wolves.”)
“She’s a girl from Chicago I used to know,” Irene (Tessa Thompson) says of Clare (Ruth Negga) — a statement that is accurate on the surface but that contains volumes of history, tension and secrets. Irene and Clare are both light-skinned Black women who have made different choices about how to live their lives, but when they reconnect, they are both prompted to reckon with who, exactly, they are. The screenplay and direction by Rebecca Hall (adapting Nella Larsen’s 1929 novel) delicately yet precisely plumbs their psychological depths and wounds, and the sumptuous costumes and immaculate black and white cinematography serve as dazzling counterpoints to what Manohla Dargis called “an anguished story of identity and belonging.”
In this powerful adaptation by the director Dee Rees of the novel by Hillary Jordan, two families — one white and one Black — are connected by a plot of land in the Jim Crow South. Rees gracefully tells both stories (and the larger tale of postwar America) without veering into didacticism, and her ensemble cast brings every moment of text and subtext into sharp focus. Our critic called it a work of “disquieting, illuminating force.” (For more period drama, queue up “The Beguiled” and “Crimson Peak.”)
‘Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom’ (2020)
The acclaimed stage director George C. Wolfe brings August Wilson’s Pulitzer Prize winner to the screen, quite faithfully — which is just fine, as a play this good requires little in the way of “opening up,” so rich are the characters and so loaded is the dialogue. The setting is a Chicago music studio in 1927, where the “Mother of the Blues” Ma Rainey (Viola Davis) and her band are meeting to record several of her hits, though that business is frequently disrupted by the tensions within the group over matters both personal and artistic. Davis is superb as Rainey, chewing up her lines and spitting them out with contempt at anyone who crosses her, and Chadwick Boseman, who died in 2020 and won a posthumous Golden Globe best actor award for his performance, is electrifying as the showy sideman, Levee, a boiling pot of charisma, flash and barely concealed rage. A.O. Scott calls the film “a powerful and pungent reminder of the necessity of art.” (For more character-driven drama, check out “The Two Popes” and “High Flying Bird.”)
‘His House’ (2020)
Genre filmmakers have spent the past three years trying (and mostly failing) to recreate the magic elixir of horror thrills and social commentary that made “Get Out” so special, but few have come as close as the British director Remi Weekes’s terrifying and thought-provoking Netflix thriller. He tells the story of two South Sudanese refugees seeking asylum in London, who are placed in public housing — a residence they are forbidden from leaving, which becomes a problem when things start going bump in the night. In a masterly fashion Weekes expands this simple haunted-house premise into a devastating examination of grief and desperation, but sacrifices no scares along the way, making “His House” a rare movie that prompts both tears and goose bumps. (For more thrills, stream “Paranormal Activity.”)
‘Dick Johnson Is Dead’ (2020)
“I’ve always wanted to be in the movies,” Dick Johnson tells his daughter Kirsten, and he’s in luck — she makes them, documentaries mostly, dealing with the biggest questions of life and death. So they turn his struggle with Alzheimer’s and looming mortality into a movie, a “resonant and, in moments, profound” one (per Manohla Dargis), combining staged fake deaths and heavenly reunions with difficult familial interactions. He’s an affable fellow, warm and constantly chuckling, and a good sport, cheerfully playing along with these intricate, macabre (and darkly funny) scenarios. But it’s really a film about a father and daughter, and their lifelong closeness gives the picture an intimacy and openness uncommon even in the best documentaries. It’s joyful, and melancholy and moving, all at once.
‘The Old Guard’ (2020)
Gina Prince-Blythewood’s adaptation of Greg Rucka’s comic book series delivers the expected goods: The action beats are crisply executed, the mythology is clearly defined and the pieces are carefully placed for future installments. But that’s not what makes it special. Prince-Blythewood’s background is in character-driven drama (her credits include “Love and Basketball” and “Beyond the Lights”), and the film is driven by its relationships rather than its effects — and by a thoughtful attentiveness to the morality of its conflicts. A.O. Scott deemed it a “fresh take on the superhero genre,” and he’s right; though based on a comic book, it’s far from cartoonish. (Prince-Blythwood’s “The Woman King” and “Beyond the Lights” are also on Netflix.)
‘Da 5 Bloods’ (2020)
Spike Lee’s latest is a genre-hopping combination of war movie, protest film, political thriller, character drama and graduate-level history course in which four African American Vietnam vets go back to the jungle to dig up the remains of a fallen compatriot — and, while they’re at it, a forgotten cache of stolen war gold. In other hands, it could’ve been a conventional back-to-Nam picture or “Rambo”-style action/adventure (and those elements, to be clear, are thrilling). But Lee goes deeper, packing the film with historical references and subtext, explicitly drawing lines from the civil rights struggle of the period to the protests of our moment. A.O. Scott called it a “long, anguished, funny, violent excursion into a hidden chamber of the nation’s heart of darkness.” (For more Vietnam-set drama, check out “Born on the Fourth of July.”)
Ava DuVernay (“Selma”) directs this wide-ranging deep dive into mass incarceration, tracing the advent of America’s modern prison system — overcrowded and disproportionately populated by Black inmates — back to the 13th Amendment. It’s a giant topic to take on in 100 minutes, and DuVernay understandably has to do some skimming and slicing. But that necessity engenders its style: “13TH” tears through history with a palpable urgency that pairs nicely with its righteous fury. Our critic called it “powerful, infuriating and at times overwhelming.”
‘American Factory’ (2019)
Documentary filmmakers have long been fascinated by the logistics and complexities of manual labor, but Steven Bognar and Julia Reichert’s recent Oscar winner for best documentary feature views these issues through a decidedly 21st-century lens. Focusing on a closed GM plant in Dayton, Ohio, that’s taken over by a Chinese auto glass company, Bognar and Reichert thoughtfully, sensitively (and often humorously) explore how cultures — both corporate and general — clash. Manohla Dargis calls it “complex, stirring, timely and beautifully shaped, spanning continents as it surveys the past, present and possible future of American labor.” (Documentary fans should also seek out “The Life and Death of Marsha P. Johnson” and “F.T.A.”)
‘The Irishman’ (2019)
Martin Scorsese reteams with Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci for the first time since “Casino” (1995), itself a return to the organized crime territory of their earlier 1990 collaboration “Goodfellas” — and then adds Al Pacino as Jimmy Hoffa. A lazier filmmaker might merely have put them back together to play their greatest hits. Scorsese does something far trickier, and more poignant: He takes all the elements we expect in a Scorsese gangster movie with this cast, and then he strips it all down, turning this story of turf wars, union battles and power struggles into a chamber piece of quiet conversations and moral contemplation. A.O. Scott called it “long and dark: long like a novel by Dostoyevsky or Dreiser, dark like a painting by Rembrandt.” (For more period drama, queue up “American Hustle” and “Phantom Thread.”)
This vivid, evocative memory play from Alfonso Cuarón is a story of two Mexican women in the early 1970s: Sofía (Marina de Tavira), a mother of four whose husband (and provider) is on his way out the door, and Cleo (Yalitza Aparicio), the family’s nanny, maid and support system. The scenes are occasionally stressful, often heart-wrenching, and they unfailingly burst with life and emotion. Our critic called it “an expansive, emotional portrait of life buffeted by violent forces, and a masterpiece.” (Cuarón’s adaptation of “A Little Princess” is also streaming on Netflix.)
‘Private Life’ (2018)
Kathryn Hahn and Paul Giamatti shine as two New York creative types whose attempts to start a family — by adoption, by fertilization, by whatever it takes — test the mettle of their relationships and sanity. The wise script by the director Tamara Jenkins is not only funny and truthful but also sharply tuned to their specific world: Few films have better captured the very public nature of marital trouble in New York, when every meltdown is interrupted by passers-by and lookie-loos. “Private Life,” which our critic called “piquant and perfect,” is a marvelous balancing act of sympathy and cynicism, both caring for its subjects and knowing them and their flaws well enough to wink and chuckle. (For more character-driven comedy/drama, add “Friends With Money” to your list.)
Mati Diop’s Cannes Film Festival Grand Prix winner is set in Senegal, where a young woman named Ava (Mama Sané) loses the boy she loves to the sea, just days before her arranged marriage to another man. What begins as a story of love lost moves, with the ease and imagination of a particularly satisfying dream, into something far stranger, as Diop savvily works elements of genre cinema into the fabric of a story that wouldn’t seem to accommodate them. A.O. Scott called it “a suspenseful, sensual, exciting movie, and therefore a deeply haunting one as well.” (For similarly out-of-this-world vibes, try Bong Joon Ho’s “Okja.”)