The 30 Best Movies on Netflix Right Now

‘The Conversation’ (1974)

Between the first two “Godfather” epics, Francis Ford Coppola wrote and directed this modest character study, in which the proudly impersonal surveillance expert Harry Caul (Gene Hackman), becomes unexpectedly invested in the subjects of his work and then decides he must step in to save their lives. Like its protagonist, “The Conversation” is most riveting in its quietest moments, though its bold opening sequence — in which Caul attempts to eavesdrop on a whispered conversation in a crowded park — is both brilliant filmmaking and a riveting snapshot of Watergate-era America. Our critic praised Hackman’s “superb performance.” (If you love ’70s conspiracy thrillers, try “The Parallax View.”)

Rocky (voiced by Zachary Levi) and Ginger (by Thandiwe Newton) in “Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget.”

‘Chicken Run: Dawn of the Nugget’ (2023)

Aardman Animations’s high-spirited and rambunctious sequel to “Chicken Run” (2000, also on Netflix) pulls off the tricky sequel balancing act of recapturing the magic of the original without resorting to outright, beat-by-beat imitation. Here, the lives of the chief chickens in the story are disrupted when Molly, the daughter of Ginger and Rocky, slips away from their idyllic island paradise and ends up trapped in the impenetrable fortress of a food factory. “Last time, we broke out of a chicken farm,” says Ginger. “Well, this time, we’re breaking in.” So instead of the escape adventures that inspired the original film, “Dawn of the Nugget” is riffing on heist movies, and cleverly; it’s impeccably designed and detailed, the laughs are plentiful and the voice performers are clearly having a ball.


François Duhamel/Netflix, via Associated Press

‘May December’ (2023)

As with so much of his best work, this “sly, unnerving” latest from the director Todd Haynes positions itself precariously in that hair’s breadth between drama and melodrama, between naturalism and camp. Natalie Portman, gamely satirizing actorly pretension, stars as a TV actress cast in an indie film dramatizing the scandalous relationship between a 36-year-old wife and mother and a seventh grade boy. Decades have passed, and the couple is still together, so the actress embeds in their hometown to observe them up close. Haynes winks at the “ripped-from-a-true-story” aesthetics of TV movies and indies, but he takes these people and their rampant narcissism seriously; between the broad comic beats, he finds moments of stealth, emotional brutality and piercing insight. It’s a sharp, funny, merciless movie. (Portman fans can also catch her in “V for Vendetta,” or her Oscar-winning turn in “Black Swan.”)

‘Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore’ (1975)

Ellen Burstyn won the Academy Award for best actress for her poignant, lived-in performance as a newly widowed mother who takes her preteen son on the road in search of greener pastures. The director was Martin Scorsese, coming off his breakthrough film, “Mean Streets,” a story of small-time hoods starring Robert De Niro and Harvey Keitel. He took on “Alice” to prove his versatility, and did just that; his direction here is modest but affecting, focused mostly on character and performance. Burstyn is excellent; so are Kris Kristofferson and Keitel as her potential romantic interests, the future “Taxi Driver” collaborator Jodie Foster as a friend of her son’s, and Vic Tayback, Diane Ladd and Valerie Curtin as her diner co-workers (in scenes that would inspire the long-running TV sitcom “Alice”). (Scorsese’s “The Irishman” is also on Netflix.)

‘Blazing Saddles’ (1974)

Mel Brooks concocted one of his rudest, brashest, funniest comedies with this Western spoof, in which railroad bosses try to clear out a tiny town by appointing an African-American sheriff (Cleavon Little). Brooks and his team of ace comedy writers — including a young Richard Pryor — adopted an “everything but the kitchen sink” approach, throwing in broad slapstick, sophisticated social satire, cheerful vulgarity, witty wordplay and fourth-wall breaks. As a result, there’s something for everyone — and, most likely, something to offend everyone. Gene Wilder lends able support as the hard-drinking, quick-drawing Waco Kid, but Madeline Kahn steals the show as the vampy saloon performer Lili Von Shtupp. (For more classic comedy, try “Richard Pryor: Live in Concert” or “Beverly Hills Cop.”)

‘Chinatown’ (1974)

The neo-noir films of the 1970s, and particularly the era’s plethora of private eye movies, took advantage of the temperature of the times; in a decade where distrust of authority and institutions was at an all-time high, it’s not surprising the unshakable moral ethos of the dedicated detective was again in vogue. Few films reanimate the golden age of noir as expertly as Roman Polanski’s 1974 best picture nominee, which also takes full advantage of the shifts in tolerance of adult subject matter to include the kinds of plot twists earlier films could only hint at. That tension, coupled with the beauty of John A. Alonzo’s cinematography and the stellar performances of Jack Nicholson, Faye Dunaway and John Huston, resulted in one of the finest films of the decade.

‘Uncut Gems’ (2019)

Josh and Benny Safdie have all but singlehandedly kept the tradition of the grimy New York street movie alive in the 21st century, with films like “Heaven Knows What” and “Good Time” (also streaming on Netflix) explicitly recalling the sweaty desperation of ’70s Gotham cinema. Their latest is also their best, featuring a career-high performance from Adam Sandler as a diamond dealer and inveterate gambler whose eternal quest for one big score puts his livelihood — and his very life — on the line. Manohla Dargis called it a “rough and glittering thing of beauty.”


A scene from “Stamped From the Beginning,” based on the book by Ibram X. Kendi.

‘Stamped From the Beginning’ (2023)

The Oscar-winning documentarian Roger Ross Williams adapts the National Book Award-winner by Ibram X. Kendi into a thought-provoking rumination on the myths and realities of American history. Diving into the knotty legacies of Blackness, whiteness, and white supremacy, Williams brilliantly and incisively juxtaposes archival materials with contemporary insights from an array of scholars, authors and activists. The brisk, 91-minute running time leaves little room for throat-clearing; the results are blunt, provocative and pointed. (Ava DuVernay’s “13TH” is a similarly stimulating exploration of these themes.)

Colman Domingo as Bayard Rustin in “Rustin,” about the man who helped organize the 1963 March on Washington.

‘Rustin’ (2023)

Bayard Rustin was not the most famous figure of the 1963 March on Washington — that was the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who delivered one of the most quoted pieces of modern oratory at its climax — but Rustin dreamed it up and made it happen. He was a fascinating figure, a driven civil rights organizer who was also openly gay (at a time when that was, to put it mildly, frowned upon) former Communist (ditto). “Rustin” wisely takes its cues from Selma, centering on a single, earth-shattering event, rather than attempting to summarize an entire life from cradle to grave. The director, George C. Wolfe, bracingly gets into the weeds, compellingly dramatizing the logistics of organizing, recruiting and raising both money and awareness for an event of this magnitude. And Colman Domingo, a valuable utility player for years now, shines big and bright in the “galvanic title performance.” (Wolfe’s adaptation of “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” is also on Netflix.)

‘Murder on the Orient Express’ (1974)

When people say, “They don’t make ’em like they used to,” Sidney Lumet’s Oscar winner is the kind of movie they’re usually talking about: a sparkling adaptation of Agatha Christie, handsomely mounted and elegantly acted by an all-star cast (including Sean Connery, Lauren Bacall, John Gielgud, Anthony Perkins, Vanessa Redgrave and Ingrid Bergman, who won an Oscar for her role). Albert Finney stars as Hercule Poirot, who is called upon to figure out which passenger on the title train killed a man who, it seems, they all had a motive to murder. Our critic called it “superb fun.”

‘Gravity’ (2013)

Alfonso Cuarón won the Academy Award for best director for this stunning yet simple story of survival in space (which he also co-wrote with his son Jonás). Sandra Bullock and George Clooney are a pair of astronauts on a routine mission that goes unexpectedly awry, putting their lives in jeopardy; it runs a crisp, tight, 91 minutes, bothering with little in the way of set-up or exposition, boiling their predicament down to the essentials of the moment. Yet Cuarón isn’t only constructing a thrill ride, and when the pathos and emotion arrive, they do so with unexpected power. “All of it — terrifyingly and marvelously — evades summary and confounds expectations,” our critic wrote. “You have to see it to believe it.” (Cuarón would win another best director Oscar for “Roma,” also on Netflix.)

‘Charley Varrick’ (1973)

Walter Matthau was one of the most beloved comic actors of his generation, but he was also an Oscar-winning actor and proved his versatility in this 1973 crime thriller from the director Don Siegel (who’d struck gold with his previous picture, “Dirty Harry,” 1971). Matthau is the title character, a professional criminal and pilot who pulls off a daring heist at a bank in rural New Mexico, only to discover that he’s stolen a fortune in laundered mob money. Siegel’s direction is stylish but efficient, and he stages several action set pieces with brute force. The plotting is twisty and merciless, and Matthau proves a surprisingly credible action hero. “If the role were played by someone else,” our critic wrote, “‘Charley Varrick’ would be something else entirely.”

‘L.A. Confidential’ (1997)

James Ellroy’s sparse yet stylish crime novel became one of the best neo-noir thrillers of our time in the hands of the director and co-writer Curtis Hanson (“Wonder Boys”). Set in the razzle-dazzle of 1950s Los Angeles, this “tough, gorgeous, vastly entertaining throwback” is a blisteringly good mystery, featuring framed-up murders, dirty cops, shady tabloid reporters, and crooked politicos. But this isn’t just a good yarn; Hanson understands (as Ellroy did before him) that this is a story about the roots of corruption in the Los Angeles Police Department, and beyond. Guy Pearce and Russell Crowe (both mostly unknown at the time) are the standouts as the diametrically opposed police detectives — one brains, one brawn — who become unlikely partners. Kim Basinger provides the love interest. (Crowe and Basinger reunited for “The Nice Guys,” also on Netflix.)

‘Boyz N the Hood’ (1991)

John Singleton’s debut film burned with the kind of energy and intensity that only a first-timer can produce — the feeling that they may not get another shot, so they’re making this one count. Singleton’s heartfelt story of growing up in the Crenshaw section of Los Angeles netted him Academy Award nominations for best original screenplay and best director (he was both the youngest-ever nominee in the latter category, and its first African-American), and launched not only his career, but those of several cast members, including Cuba Gooding Jr., Ice Cube, Angela Bassett, Morris Chestnut, Nia Long and Regina King. Our critic praised Singleton for “saying something familiar with new dramatic force, and in ways that a wide and varied audience will understand.”

‘I Don’t Feel at Home in This World Anymore’ (2017)

This wildly out-of-the-box dark comedy plays, at first, like the sly story of an amateur sleuth: Our heroine (Melanie Lynskey), frustrated with the indifference of the police to the crime against her, hits pawn shops and confronts criminals to recover her laptop and her grandmother’s silver. But as she gets in over her head, the film’s tone subtly shifts into a key closer to that of a thriller, particularly when we meet the perpetrators, who are scarily small time (and thus have nothing to lose). Such stark tonal contrasts could sink a lesser movie, but the actor-turned-director Macon Blair never loses control, and the increasingly panicked reactions of the marvelous Ms. Lynskey to her escalating situation keep the story grounded in something resembling the real world. It’s a strange little movie, but an oddly satisfying one.

‘The Wailing’ (2016)

What begins as a “Memories of Murder”-style police procedural veers into darker, wilder territory in this unnerving and occasionally stomach-churning horror thriller from the writer and director Na Hong-jin. Jong-goo (Kwak Do-won) is a policeman whose investigation of a string of grisly killings is influenced by the gossip around him: “All this happened,” he is told, “after that Japanese man arrived.” When his family is drawn into the investigation, Jong-goo discovers exactly what he’s capable of — and then things get really horrifying. The expansive 156-minute running time allows leisurely detours into character drama and bleak humor, but the picture never goes slack; there is something sinister in the air of this village, and Na builds that sense of inescapable dread with patience and power. (For more South Korean cinema, try “Oldboy” or “Burning.”)

‘A Walk Among the Tombstones’ (2014)

It’s a real shame that Liam Neeson had already burned off the good will of his third-act man-of-action career resurgence with too many “Taken” sequels and retreads by the time this taut thriller hit theaters — because it’s far superior to any of his other pictures of the time. That’s partly thanks to the personnel; it’s based on one of a series of crackerjack novels by Lawrence Block, and adapted and directed by Scott Frank (who would later perform the same duties on “The Queen’s Gambit”). But Neeson is also at his best, imbuing cop-turned-private-eye Matthew Scudder with a mixture of soulful regret, unwavering faith and righteous indignation. (If you prefer Mr. Neeson in his more direct form, “Taken” is also on Netflix.

‘Jackie Brown’ (1997)

Quentin Tarantino crafted his follow-up to “Pulp Fiction” as a valentine to two of his key influences: the author Elmore Leonard, whose novel “Rum Punch” was the source material (it’s Tarantino’s only adapted screenplay to date), and the ’70s exploitation movie legend Pam Grier, for whom he reworked the leading role of a flight attendant caught between a gunrunner, the F.B.I. and the A.T.F. It has all the hallmarks of a Tarantino picture: memorable and musical dialogue, playful construction, eccentric supporting characters and a throwback aesthetic. But its aging protagonists — not only Grier but also Robert Forster’s seen-it-all bail bondsman — lend the picture a maturity and gravitas that can elude even Tarantino’s best work.

‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ (1975)

Jack Nicholson built one of his most iconic performances (he plays the role with “such easy grace that it’s difficult to remember him in any other film,” our critic wrote), and won his first Oscar in the process, in Milos Forman’s adaptation of Ken Kesey’s novel. Nicholson had plenty of company; this is one of the few films to win all of the “big five” Academy Awards, including best picture, best director, best screenplay and best actress. Louise Fletcher won the last for her unforgettable turn as the steely Nurse Ratched, whose iron-fisted rule of a state mental hospital is challenged by Nicholson’s free-spirited Randle Patrick McMurphy. (Other Oscar winners on Netflix include “Minari” and “Darkest Hour.”)

‘School of Rock’ (2003)

Before the miniboom of decidedly adult-oriented filmmakers trying their hands at family entertainment (Martin Scorsese’s “Hugo,” Wes Anderson’s “Fantastic Mr. Fox,” Todd Haynes’s “Wonderstruck”), the “Dazed and Confused” director, Richard Linklater, and the “Enlightened” creator, Mike White, joined forces to tell this story of a slacker musician who uses his prep-school substitute teaching gig to turn a class of fourth-graders into a rock band. White’s script is clever without being cute, and Linklater’s direction is engaged but unobtrusive. The biggest draw, though, is Jack Black in the starring role, one seemingly designed to show off his simultaneous gifts for broad comedy and hard rocking. It’s a warm, winning, endlessly funny performance.

‘Wonder Woman’ (2017)

Patty Jenkins’s big-screen take on the iconic superheroine “briskly shakes off blockbuster branding imperatives,” A.O. Scott wrote, “and allows itself to be something relatively rare in the modern superhero cosmos.” That rare something is fun, as Jenkins (mostly) eschews the grim approach and CG-sludge aesthetic of many of her DC-interpreting brethren in favor of a bright, colorful, witty popcorn entertainment. Gal Gadot charismatically deflects bullets and swings her Lasso of Truth as the Amazonian princess who saves humanity from evil during World War I; Chris Pine is pitch-perfect as the fighter pilot with whom she teams (and engages in a bit of screwball comedy-style repartee.) (DC’s “The Batman” is also worth your time.)

‘Scott Pilgrim vs. the World’ (2010)

Edgar Wright (“Baby Driver”) helms this unique action/comedy with a zippy graphic-novel aesthetic. Though it’s based on a comic book series and filled with video-game-inspired sequences, viewers need not be familiar with either; Wright merely borrows the high-energy visual language of those genres to tell his sweet story more exuberantly and playfully. “Pilgrim” snaps and crackles, veering from one disarming set piece to the next with verve and vitality; A.O. Scott praised its “speedy, funny, happy-sad spirit.” And it’s a “before they were stars” extravaganza, presciently filled with talented young actors (Brie Larson, Anna Kendrick, Aubrey Plaza, Mae Whitman, Alison Pill and many more) who were just about to pop.

‘Training Day’ (2001)

Denzel Washington won his second Oscar (and his first for a leading role) for going way outside his usual wheelhouse of courageous heroes and men of virtue to play a dirty Los Angeles narcotics detective. The jolt of seeing good-guy Denzel play bad — planting evidence, staging murders and gleefully robbing his suspects — is downright electrifying, and Ethan Hawke (who received an Oscar nomination for his own work here) is an effective audience surrogate, registering increasing dismay at the corruption of his superior over the course of a long, hot 24 hours. Director Antoine Fuqua orchestrates their interactions adroitly, modulating the tension and discomfort, shrewdly treating his star like a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. Our critic called it a performance of “powerhouse virtuosity.”

‘How to Train Your Dragon’ (2010)

This 2010 adaptation of the book by Cressida Cowell was one of the family franchise success stories of the decade, spawning two sequels, a TV series, video games and even a live “arena spectacular.” But it is, at its heart, a simple story — something like the “boy and his dog” tales of old, in which the meek young Hiccup (voiced by Jay Baruchel), intimidated by his dragon-slaying dad (Gerald Butler) teaches himself how to tame the beasts instead. Kids will appreciate the gorgeous animation and the “be yourself” messaging; grown-ups will enjoy the comic supporting cast, which includes Jonah Hill, Christopher Mintz-Plasse and Kristen Wiig. (For more family fun, try “Paddington” and “Storks.”)

‘Lady Bird’ (2017)

Greta Gerwig (“Barbie”) made her solo feature directorial debut with this funny and piercing coming-of-age story, set in her hometown, Sacramento, Calif. Saoirse Ronan dazzles in the titular role as a quietly rebellious high school senior whose quests for love and popularity bring her long-simmering resentments toward her mother (Laurie Metcalf, magnificent) to a boil. Parent-child conflicts are nothing new in teen stories, but Gerwig’s perceptive screenplay slashes through the familiar types and tropes, daring to create characters that are complicated and flawed, yet deeply sympathetic. A.O. Scott praised the film’s “freshness and surprise.” (For more teen comedy-drama, try “Sixteen Candles.”)

‘Silver Linings Playbook’ (2012)

Jennifer Lawrence won the Oscar for best actress for her spectacularly sassy and unapologetically haunted performance in David O. Russell’s (somewhat loose) adaptation of Matthew Quick’s novel. It’s a balancing act of seemingly contradictory tones and styles, slipping nimbly from serious mental-health drama to screwball comedy to romance, thanks to the deceptive casualness of Russell’s approach and the skill of his cast — particularly Bradley Cooper as its unsteady protagonist and Robert De Niro and Jackie Weaver (all also Oscar nominees) as his parents. Our critic called it “exuberant” and “a delight.” (If you like complicated familial comedy/drama, try “The Farewell”; Lawrence also shines in the rowdy comedy “No Hard Feelings.”)

‘Forgetting Sarah Marshall’ (2008)

The actor-turned-screenwriter Jason Segel and his collaborator Nicholas Stoller first teamed up for this romantic comedy from the producer Judd Apatow. Segel stars as Peter, a sad-sack composer in a perpetual funk after his breakup with the title character (Kristen Bell), a famous TV actress. In an attempt to escape his depression, he takes a vacation to Hawaii — only to find Sarah at the same resort with her new beau (Russell Brand), a pretentious British pop star. Mila Kunis co-stars as the resort receptionist who presents a new opportunity for love; Bill Hader, Jonah Hill, Paul Rudd and Jack McBrayer turn up in small but uproarious supporting roles.

‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ (1997)

When Julia Roberts headlined this romantic comedy, it was framed as a comeback vehicle, implying that she had wandered too far from her bread and butter with appearances in darker fare like “Mary Reilly” and “Michael Collins.” But this was no lightweight rom-com; the director P.J. Hogan (“Muriel’s Wedding”) and the screenwriter Ronald Bass (“Rain Man”) allow Roberts to tinker with her audience’s expectations, complicating their assumed empathy for the actor with her character’s questionable (and even cruel) motives and actions. And Cameron Diaz is brilliantly used as the target of her ire — a character so warm and sunny, we can’t help but wonder whose side we’re really on.


Wil Wheaton, River Phoenix, Jerry O’Connell and Corey Feldman in “Stand By Me.”Credit...

‘Stand By Me’ (1986)

Rob Reiner’s early directorial career is a mind-boggling display of adept genre-surfing, moving with ease from broad comedy (“This Is Spinal Tap”) to road movie (“The Sure Thing”) to fantasy (“The Princess Bride”) to rom-com (“When Harry Met Sally”) to suspense (“Misery”) to courtroom drama (“A Few Good Men”). In the middle of that astonishing run, he took a shot at coming-of-age dramas and proved he could do those too. This modest but memorable adaptation of the Stephen King novella “The Body” digs into its time and place (a small town in Oregon, circa 1959), shows a remarkable sense for the way boys communicate and boasts top-notch leading performances by Corey Feldman, Jerry O’Connell, Wil Wheaton and River Phoenix.