The 50 best Netflix shows of all time

Did we really need to catch up with Daniel LaRusso and Johnny Lawrence (William Zabka), the hero and villain from The Karate Kid? Apparently so. Cobrai Kai started on YouTube Red, and swept the leg over to Netflix for seasons three through five, as well as an upcoming sixth and final season. Sort of The Karate Kid: The Next Generation, the show is great. Daniel and Johnny evolve into frenemies, and we get to know their significant others and kids. Even better, Cobrai Kai pays ample respect to Mr. Miyagi (Pat Morita) and welcomes back key Karate Kid trilogy figures, including Elisabeth Shue, Martin Kove, Thomas Ian Griffith, and more. [Ian Spelling]

Before Squid Game was winning Netflix viewers with its strange odyssey of survival, Alice In Borderland was there to tell another ambitious story of a sci-fi game with deadly consequences, infused with a flavor all its own. The show’s hook—that select people are chosen to compete in an expansive and dangerous game in an abandoned version of Tokyo—is cool enough, but Alice just keeps blowing up (literally and figuratively) from there. It’s a wild ride of a show that never lets up on the throttle, which means it fits right in with other binge-able Netflix hits. [Matthew Jackson]

Heartbreaking, tough, yet hopeful, this limited series does justice to Stephanie Land’s memoir of the same name. Margaret Qualley, in a revelatory, star-making performance, plays Alex, a single mom to a two-year-old daughter. Alex slips away in the middle of the night from an abusive boyfriend, seeking a better life for herself and her child. The odds are stacked against her, but she’s brave and resourceful. Among the surprises in Maid, Andie MacDowell co-stars as Alex’s free-spirited, unreliable, bipolar mother, and delivers a performance that matches that of her real-life daughter, Qualley. [Ian Spelling]

Unorthodox came out of nowhere and exploded into a sensation—deservedly so. A German limited series, created and written by women (Anna Winger and Alexa Karolinski), and directed by a woman (Maria Schrader), it focuses on a teenaged Hasidic wife named Esty (Shira Haas). Miserable, Esty flees from Brooklyn to Berlin, hoping to start fresh, but her husband and his cousin try to track her down. She just wants something different, more modern, better for herself. Israeli actress Haas (Shtisel, The Zookeeper’s Wife) made such an impression that she’s been cast as Sabra in Captain America: New World Order. [Ian Spelling]

The tumult that teenagers face the moment they first enter high school is a favorite subject for dramedy, but rarely has it been depicted with the kind of intensity and sharpness that On My Block delivered over the course of its four seasons. Equal parts juicy and down to Earth, it’s a show that delivered bingeworthy moments while never losing sight of the grounded, human appeal of its diverse cast, and it was a winning formula from the first episode to the last. [Matthew Jackson]

The appeal of Pam Brady and Mitch Hurwitz’s Lady Dynamite couldn’t be more obvious, right from the jump: This is the Maria Bamford show, as pure an expression of the stand-up comedian’s funny, very personal approach to comedy as you’re ever likely to get. (Give or take the actual Maria Bamford Show, which ran, handheld video-style, on Super Deluxe way back in the day.) Bracingly autobiographical, but with silly bits, the series reads as pure Bammer, talking frankly about her struggles with mental health while also satirizing seven kinds of hell out of the industry she finds herself trapped in orbit around. [William Hughes]

Sit back and watch the masters at work: Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, Sam Waterston, and Martin Sheen. Spitfire Grace (Fonda) and hippie-esque Frankie (Tomlin) become unlikely friends and business partners after their respective husbands, Robert (Sheen) and Sol (Waterston), fell in love with each other. It’s funny, ribald, poignant, and, for some—we’re looking at you, parents and parents with parents—all too close to home as it explores aging and the looming specter of death. Grace and Frankie runs 94 episodes across seven seasons, making it a great binge. [Ian Spelling]

What would you do for love? That’s the question this addictive thriller asks. And the answer, according to bookstore manager and serial killer Joe Goldberg (Penn Badgley), is … anything. In You, Joe fixates on various women and then destroys anyone and anything around them to win their hearts. Badgely, despite waaaay too much overbearing voiceover narration, makes you—pardon the pun—actually like Joe/Will/Jonathan, who reinvents himself as necessary (professor, dad, etc.). And Joe’s ladies, including Beck (Elizabeth Lail), Love (Victoria Pedretti), and Marienne (Tati Gabrielle), are, each in their own way, as formidable, troubled, and dangerous as Joe. [Ian Spelling]

Netflix and Marvel’s Luke Cage could have been just another action-packed franchise-expander, in the vein of its precursor Jessica Jones and successor The Defenders—were it not for the addition of that hoodie. Cheo Hodari Coker’s live-action adaptation of a Blaxploitation-era comic book icon dared to turn Mike Colter’s Harlem hero into the political symbol he was always meant to be. A hoodie-clad Black man indestructible to bullets? A superhero whose villains are dirty cops and politicians? Thanks also to magnetic performances from the likes of Colter, Simone Missick, Mahershala Ali, and Alfre Woodard, Luke Cage dared to elevate a stylish urban action drama into mythic fantasy. [Jack Smart]

Netflix has made several efforts to get into the epic fantasy game, and Shadow And Bone ranks among its most successful so far. Based on Leigh Bardugo’s Grishaverse series of novels, the show emerged with a look that set it apart from other fantasy stories of its era, then just kept getting better from there. From the charm and wit of its ensemble cast to the layering of its multi-narrative story, it’s a fantasy engine firing on all cylinders as it heads into its second season. [Matthew Jackson]

Tim Burton puts a typically dark and snarky spin on this series, which spotlights The Addams Family character Wednesday. Here, played by the marvelous (not to mention creepy, kooky, mysterious, and spooky) Jenna Ortega, Wednesday discovers her psychic powers while attending mom and dad’s alma mater, Nevermore Academy. Catherine Zeta-Jones and Luis Guzman lend support as Morticia and Gomez, but Emma Myers and Gwendoline Christie, as Wednesday’s uber-positive would-be bestie and Nevermore’s shapeshifting, protective headmistress, figure more prominently and steal their scenes. Christina Ricci, Wednesday in the movies and a frequent Burton ensemble member, also appears as a botany teacher in Wednesday. [Ian Spelling]

Somehow equal parts delightful and disgusting, Big Mouth may endure as the best portrayal of puberty in the history of television. It’s certainly the most creative, what with its filthy-loveable Hormone Monsters and the messed up New Jersey suburban kids they’re guiding through life’s most uncomfortable transition. Voiceover extraordinaire actor Nick Kroll and his co-creators Andrew Goldberg, Mark Levin, and Jennifer Flackett continue to find a balance between zaniness and heart that makes Big Mouth as essential for adults as it is for pre-teens; ultimately, it’s a comedy that resonates for anyone going through changes. [Jack Smart]

Shondaland weaved their magic again for this lush, sexy, color-blind show— based on Julia Quinn’s novels—that’s Jane Austen meets Scandal meets Grey’s Anatomy. The eight Bridgerton siblings seek love in early 19th-century England. Cue fanciful parties, costumes, and homesteads, as well as beautiful people doing both beautiful and ugly things. There’s no beating the season-one chemistry between Phoebe Dynevor and Rege-Jean Page, though Simone Ashley and Jonathan Bailey come close in season two. Bridgerton season three is on the way, and rumor suggests that the focus may turn to Penelope (Nicola Coughlan) and Colin (Luke Newton) taking their friendship to the next level. [Ian Spelling]

The Witcher had a lot to live up to with its first season. The show is based on a beloved series of fantasy novels written by Andrzej Sapkowski, which was turned into a possibly even more beloved video game series by CD Projekt. Good thing Netflix had the sense to hire Witcher superfan Henry Cavill to lead the show as Geralt, the titular monster hunter. Cavill nails Geralt’s stoic disposition, making him at turns terrifying and dryly humorous. Liam Hemsworth has a monumental task ahead of him when he takes over as Geralt in season four. [Jen Lennon]

It’s not often you find a sitcom reboot that turns out to be even more beloved than its predecessor, but we may have gotten it with One Day At ATime. A Latinx-focused re-imagining of the original 1970s sitcom, the show’s story of a single mother (Justina Machado) doing her best and finding fresh perspective with a new version of her family won hearts across the streaming world. Four seasons was not enough, but it’s also the kind of show that made us feel like even 10 seasons wouldn’t have been enough. [Matthew Jackson]

There’s a singular, strange magic to Jeff Lemire’s comic book series Sweet Tooth that felt uncapturable by any adaptation, no matter how faithful. So, the Netflix original based on the comic didn’t try to capture that magic. It instead set out to weave its own, and it worked thanks to the remarkable expressiveness of series leads Christian Convery and Nonso Anonzie, an incredible grasp of production design, and writing that’s at turns bittersweet and purely delicious. [Matthew Jackson]

Based on the beloved Baby-Sitters Club book series by Ann M. Martin, Netflix’s The Baby-Sitters Club managed to update the stories and characters in a way that felt modern, without losing any of the emotional authenticity that’s kept young readers engaged for more than 30 years. Martin herself serves as an executive producer on the series, reassuring book fans that the characters they loved were in good hands. The middle school girls at the center of the show talk and behave like real kids as they face challenges from mundane to monumental (is there any difference at that age?).

When the show chose to deviate from the books the changes were thoughtful, with the intent of being more inclusive, more diverse, and more relevant to today’s youth, like the episode where Mary-Anne has to take a trans child she’s babysitting to the hospital for a fever and stands up for her when she’s misgendered by the staff. Don’t let the middle-grade focus fool you—this show is full of lessons everyone could stand to learn. [Cindy White]

Judy (Linda Cardellini) and Jen (Christina Applegate) become friends at a support group, only broody Judy doesn’t realize that the relentlessly sunny Jen is the hit-and-run driver who killed her husband. Dead To Me mines much of its humor from the offbeat pairing of Applegate and Cardellini, who bring out the best in each other. Covid-19 delayed the show’s excellent, twisty, and emotional third and final season, which was shot amidst Applegate’s revelation that she’s contending with multiple sclerosis. The actress barrels through the season, not missing a comedic or dramatic beat, and the finale is at once shocking and appropriate. [Ian Spelling]

The binge model of Netflix serves some shows better than others, and few shows have ever benefited more from that system than Money Heist, Alex Pina’s internationally acclaimed drama about a heist crew and the ambitious jobs they attempt to pull off. Intricate and razor-sharp from the very first frames, Money Heist’s willingness to double back on itself, jump around in time, and even outright lie to the viewer makes it both compelling and addictive, exactly the kind of show that prospers in a world where fans can watch as many times as they want to get the whole picture. [Matthew Jackson]

Unbelievable packs the emotional punch it does because of a few key decisions from creators Susannah Grant, Ayelet Waldman, and Michael Chabon. This retelling of real-life serial rape cases keeps its focus on the victims and the detectives looking to protect them, for one. As with T. Christian Miller and Ken Armstrong’s source material, it exposes police negligence, their unwillingness to believe women, for the infuriating injustice it is. And it cast fearless actors who could make audiences empathize all the more with these real-life events: Kaitlyn Dever, Toni Collette, and Merritt Wever do career-best work in a miniseries that remains, unfortunately, all too timely. [Jack Smart]

We may have gotten an adaptation of The Umbrella Academy thanks to the boom in comic book movies, but Steve Blackman’s take on Gerard Way and Gabriel Ba’s beloved comics was never content to play by standard superhero adventure rules. Richly textured, endlessly emotional, and charmingly weird without ever feeling performative, The Umbrella Academy remains one of the best comic book adaptations of the 21st century so far because of how determined it is to be itself. [Matthew Jackson]

With Midnight Mass, Mike Flanagan turned his focus to religion. It’s a common theme in horror, but rarely is it explored with such care and grace. In the small community of Crockett Island, a new priest (Hamish Linklater) arrives, and soon, the town begins experiencing unexplained phenomena. The sick are healed, the old become young, the wheelchair user can walk again. The show is careful about not taking a stance about what’s actually going on—and the creature at its heart is never referenced by name—leading to a reckoning that somehow makes the idea that angels and demons are two sides of the same coin feel fresh instead of hackneyed. [Jen Lennon]

Justin Simien transferred his popular 2014 movie Dear White People to the small screen for this series of the same name. The show—which aired 40 episodes across four seasons—follows a young Black woman (Logan Browning as Samantha) attending Winchester University, a mostly white Ivy League college. Simien returned to oversee the show and direct a number of its episodes, and Dear White People retains the movie’s mix of comedy, drama, satire, and open-mindedness as it tackles romance, sexuality, wokeness, and race relations. Check out the film first, as several of its cast reprise their respective roles in the series. [Ian Spelling]

Netflix has long been home to various true crime offerings, from docuseries to dramatizations, but the streamer struck a particular kind of gold with When They See Us. In the hands of creator and director Ava DuVernay, the story of the Exonerated Five took on vivid, frightening new life three decades after it began, and emerged as a timeless and shockingly timely story of what justice means, and how hard it is for some people to ever truly find it. [Matthew Jackson]

Aziz Ansari co-created his masterwork with Master Of None, a painfully funny show about struggling Indian-American actor Dev (Ansari) and his inner circle. Ansari— who also co-wrote every episode and directed a number of them—tackles religion, the entertainment industry, racism, sex and sexuality, friendship, and more, doing so with heart … and a skewer. After two seasons, Ansari gave us one season of Master Of None Presents: Moments In Love, which shifts the focus to Lena Waithe’s character, Dev’s friend Denise, an African American and lesbian. It’s equally good, with Ansari recurring as Dev, writing all five episodes with Waithe, and directing them as well. [Ian Spelling]

Though it might be somewhat overshadowed by other crime dramas of its era, including Netfix’s own hit Ozark, there’s an undeniably compelling streak in Narcos that makes it worth seeking out for all fans of the genre. Led by Wagner Moura’s haunting portrait of real-lie cartel kingpin Pablo Escobar, the series combined real events and great performances with breathless, ruthless tension and intensity, and emerged as one of the most fine-tuned dramas of its kind in the 2010s. [Matthew Jackson]

The Peaky Blinders gang controls pretty much everything in Birmingham, England, circa 1919, and they’re led by Tommy Shelby (Cillian Murphy), a young World War 1 veteran who’s charismatic, scheming, emotionally damaged, and dangerous yet just short of a total monster. Until her death, the great Helen McCory co-starred as Polly, who ran the gang while Tommy and others fought in the war, and detested playing second fiddle upon their return. Peaky Blinders welcomed bigger and bigger stars to the cast as its reputation grew: Tom Hardy, Alexander Siddig, Paddy Considine, Sam Claflin, Aidan Gillen, Anya-Taylor Joy, and Adrien Brody. [Ian Spelling]

Netflix founds its in-house horror auteur in writer-producer-director Mike Flanagan, who first directed the streamer’s disturbing film adaptation of Stephen King’s Gerald’s Game and then the creepy series The Haunting Of Hill House, followed by this sequel series of sorts that features much of the same cast as Gerald’s Game and Hill House. A spooky spin on “The Turn Of The Screw,” The Haunting Of Bly Manor stars Victoria Pedretti (from You and Hill House) as Dani, a young woman who moves from America to England to work as an au pair and leave behind a troubled past. Would you believe the house is haunted? That her past catches up with her? And that the previous au pair … died? [Ian Spelling]

Following in the footsteps of fellow Netflix hit Sex Education, Heartstopper takes certain familiar elements of a teen romance and brings them to charming, warm new life. A queer love story with a winning ensemble that manages to walk a gripping line between comedy and soulful drama, it’s a show that’s anchored in the chemistry of its two leads but nevertheless manages to feel expansive and deeply relatable to teens, and adults, from all walks of life. [Matthew Jackson]

It’s a miracle! Only Tina Fey and Robert Carlock could mine such heartwarming yet shrewd humor from the premise of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt: in most other storytellers’ hands, a woman emerging in New York City after years in an underground doomsday cult would mean a tortured drama. Instead, Ellie Kemper proves endlessly inventive in her portrayal of naive optimism as Kimmy, and strikes zany comedy gold opposite Carol Kane, Jane Krakowski, and the star-is-born revelation that is Tituss Burgess. [Jack Smart]

Imagine, if you will, a British version of The Twilight Zone. Presented for your consideration … Black Mirror. Charlie Brooker’s anthology show cranks out nastier, occasionally gruesome installments, with tech-driven elements factoring heavily into the morality plays. There are 20-something episodes (and an interactive movie) dating back to 2011, with a sixth season on the way. Major guest stars include Daniel Kaluuya, Hayley Atwell, Jon Hamm, Bryce Dallas Howard, Jesse Plemons, Letitia Wright, Anthony Mackie, and Miley Cyrus. If you see just a few episodes, we recommend “The National Anthem,” “San Junipero,” “USS Callister,” and “Black Museum.” [Ian Spelling]

For a little while in the mid-2010s, even with Orange Is The New Black shining bright on the same streaming service, House Of Cards felt like the quintessential Netflix show. The production brought in big names to star, delivered slick visuals and great performances, and delivered a plot so juicy and intricate that it felt like a show you absolutely had to watch in long binges. It may have fallen from grace by the time it ended, but even now House Of Cards remains a compulsively watchable thriller. [Mathew Jackson]

Ozark emerged as peak COVID-19 viewing, with viewers hearing the buzz and binge-ing the show while in lockdown. Or was that just us? Ozark centers on the truly despicable Marty and Wendy Byrde, played to perfection by Jason Bateman and Laura Linney. The Byrdes and their two kids, on the run from Marty’s shady dealings in Chicago, settle in the Ozarks and get very, very involved in, well, everything: drug dealing, money laundering, politics, a riverboat casino, etc., and make the acquaintance of an ambitious, razor-sharp, and potty-mouthed local named Ruth (Julia Garner). For those who’ve not seen it, know that Ozark sticks the landing. [Ian Spelling]

Like fellow acclaimed streaming hit PEN15, Never Have I Ever is rooted in a particular, semi-autobiographical teen experience that’s still able to say something universal about adolescence. It begins as the story of a group of weird kids trying to become cool enough to have sex, and along the way unlocks a hilarious journey of awkwardness, beauty, and often surprising depth, and it’s able to do all of that while also working as a major proponent of representation and inclusivity within its chosen genre. [Matthew Jackson]

This British import absolutely revels in cringe and dares you not to look away. Sex Education shreds all forms of modesty in order to tackle a variety of sexual topics, usually from the point of view of high school students still figuring out their own bodies and learning to navigate the politics of hooking up. Asa Butterfield stars as Otis, an awkward teen who happens to have absorbed a vast amount of clinical knowledge thanks to the zero-boundary frankness of his mother (Gillian Anderson), a licensed sex therapist. When an enterprising classmate (Emma Mackey) discovers his hidden expertise, she teams up with him to set up a secret sex clinic at their school. As you can imagine from that description, it’s raw, funny, and not for anyone easily offended. Or maybe it is. The series sets out to challenge those delicate sensibilities as an unhealthy approach to a natural aspect of being human. It’s also worth mentioning that it’s a great introduction to the talents of Ncuti Gatwa, who plays Otis’ best friend Eric and will be taking over as the next Doctor in the newest incarnation of Doctor Who. If you want a hint of what he’s capable of, don’t sleep on his fantastic performance in this show. [Cindy White]

It might not have been the splashiest of Netflix’s Marvel adaptations, but Jessica Jones was the most consistent across its three seasons, and still tops quite a few lists as the best of them all. It definitely had the best villain in David Tennant’s chilling Kilgrave. Hard drinking, foul-mouthed, and permanently grumpy, Jessica isn’t an easy character to like, but Krysten Ritter digs in and shows us flashes of the soft, traumatized heart that beats beneath that tough outer shell. The show keeps things grounded on the streets of New York City, with a noir flavor that suits Jessica’s career as a private investigator. It’s a superhero show for people sick and tired of superheroes. There’s still no word yet as to whether Jessica will get her own Disney+ revival like her fellow Netflix Defender Matt Murdock, but we have to hope we’ll see her return someday. [Cindy White]

It’s 1980s Los Angeles, so we’re talking gas-guzzling vehicles, huge hair, neon Capezios, and worse. Aspiring actress Ruth (Alison Brie) can’t find work and her best friend Debbie (Betty Gilpin) hates her. Makes sense, since Ruth had an affair with Debbie’s husband. The frenemies end up as the stars of GLOW, “Gorgeous Ladies Of Wrestling,” a female-driven, WWE-inspired syndicated extravaganza. Marc Maron steals every scene as the show’s slimy director. GLOW aired for three glorious seasons and was renewed for a fourth when Netflix—concerned about producing such a mano-a-mano series mid-pandemic—put it in a permanent sleeper hold. [Ian Spelling]

Daredevil was the first of Marvel’s Netflix series, and it was a huge departure from the MCU. The quippy fun action and bombastic heroes were gone, replaced by brutal beatdowns and a deeply conflicted protagonist. The dark superhero thing doesn’t always work (see: the entirety of the Snyderverse), but Daredevil’s backstory easily lends itself to the grittier, more realistic take from series creator Drew Goddard. Charlie Cox’s take on Matt Murdock, combined with some of the best fight choreography on television, made Daredevil an instant classic. [Jen Lennon]

The Haunting Of Hill House was Mike Flanagan’s breakout for Netflix, the project that established him as a modern horror auteur. Loosely based on Shirley Jackson’s novel of the same name, the series follows the Crain family through two timelines: the first, in 1992, explores the strange, seemingly haunted house they grew up in, and the second, in 2018, brings the Crains back together after a tragedy 26 years ago drove them apart. Intergenerational trauma in horror is having a moment right now, but Hill House was instrumental in starting that trend—and it remains an exemplar of the genre. [Jen Lennon]

As the streaming era hits the brakes on giving the best directors in the world free rein to do anything they like, it seems less and less likely we’ll see something like the underrated gem Mindhunter again. A meticulously crafted, psychologically invigorating serial killer show from the modern master of the form, David Fincher. Known for his obsessive attention to detail and making his actors do an obscene number of takes, neither of which play nice with television production, Fincher’s two-season television masterpiece has all the atmospheric dread and hyper-efficient performances that we’ve come to know from the director of Se7en and Zodiac. All those takes were worth it because Mindhunter gave Jonathan Groff his best screen performance to date and Holt McCallany the richly textured and complicated role he deserves. [Matt Schimkowitz]

There are two competing impulses powering Tim Robinson and Zach Kanin’s I Think You Should Leave, one of the most fascinating sketch comedy shows of the last 10 years. On the one hand, absurdity: A lurching heightening into pure silliness that can see a magical musical moment devolve into songs about skeletons and hair, or an entire focus group finds itself hijacked by one charismatic, water bottle-flipping weirdo. And on the other, relatability, secretly Robinson’s greatest strength: The ability to embody a wide variety of oddball assholes with such complete sincerity that you can’t help but see some tiny, awful part of yourself inside them, too. At the collision of these two opposed forces, something magical and uncomfortable and hilarious happens. Also: “Tiny Dinky Daffy, pancaked by drunk dump truck driver” is objectively one of the funniest phrases ever written in the English language, so that helps, too. [William Hughes]

One of the first originals to put Netflix on the map as a place for bingeworthy new shows, Orange Is The New Black still stands as an ambitious, chameleonic example of what a great team of writers and an ensemble cast full of talented newcomers and seasoned veterans can accomplish. In seven seasons, the women of Litchfield never ran out of stories to tell, or ways to express the show’s unique blend of heartbreak and humor, heaviness and hope. [Matthew Jackson]

A dick show with a heart, Dan Perrault and Tony Yacenda’s American Vandal attempted to shove the whole of the high school experience into its true-crime spoofing mockumentary format: Heartbreak, puerile comedy, social media, shame, pressure, and, yes, the dicks. In this case, those are the ones painted on the cars in Hanover High School’s faculty parking lot, the crime for which first-season subject Dylan Maxwell is facing expulsion—and onto which kid documentarians Peter Maldonado and Sam Ecklund are hoping to shine some (slightly self-serving) light. Funny, and occasionally heart-rending, American Vandal is vaster than its simple, cock-heavy logline might suggest; an exercise in humor and empathy masquerading in a genre that normally precludes the presence of either. [William Hughes]

One of the best comedy series to hit any platform in the last 10 years, Lisa McGee’s Derry Girls begins by rooting itself in the familiar, with theme music by the Cranberries and a focus on 1990s pop culture and easy-to-digest bites of news about The Troubles in Northern Island. But over time, with the help of a stellar ensemble, McGee built something bigger than a nostalgia trip with lots of laughs thrown in, and Derry Girls became a moving portrait of teenage hope that’s as warm now as it was when it first debuted. [Matthew Jackson]

It’s the mark of a compelling miniseries when audiences wonder if its subject is based on a real person. That’s how convincing Scott Frank and Allan Scott are in their rendering of novelist Walter Tevis’ 1960s chess prodigy Beth Harmon—and how magnetically Anya Taylor-Joy and young Isla Johnston bring her to life on screen. Epitomizing Taylor-Joy’s stratospheric Hollywood ascent, The Queen’s Gambit was so popular it caused chess sets to sell out of stores. This redheaded oddball, fingers delicately interlaced, gazing across a chessboard, may be remembered as one of the streaming era’s most iconic images. [Jack Smart]

It’s easy to see, just at a glance, why Squid Game became such a global phenomenon. The imagery conjured by the series, from the matching jumpsuits to the menacing Red Light-Green Light doll, is instantly memorable and unsettling, the kind of stuff tailor-made to catch the eye of the internet. But look closer, and you’ll find more than a memorable high-concept at work in Hwang Dong-hyuk’s runaway hit. The hook is always there, but it’s the deeply human work from the cast that sells it, making Squid Game a remarkable portrait of desperation and survival. [Matthew Jackson]

Time-loop stories are uniquely reliant on their leads: circumstances may shift, fates may be altered, but without a steady center, the whole thing spirals into chaos. And, to be fair, Russian Doll eventually does that anyway, as repeating reality breaks down around Natasha Lyonne’s end-of-her-rope party girl, Nadja Vulvokov, trapped in one such loop on the night of her 36th birthday. But even amidst the madness, Lyonne has never been better, in a part that requires equal use of her genius for comedy—so many trips down that innocuously lethal staircase—and for deep pathos. Russian Doll toys with larger existential mysteries (including one genius twist halfway through its first season), but is never better than when it lets us observe Lyonne in her unnaturally natural element, staring into that damn bathroom mirror and trying to figure out what the hell’s going on with her life—and deaths. [William Hughes]

Even if there weren’t moments in Peter Morgan’s The Crown of such stunning writing, acting, and directing cohesion—and there are, in each of the series’ seasons comprising new casts—it would warrant inclusion on a list of Netflix’s best due to sheer ambition and scope. All of the 20th century British royal family’s decadence is rendered with eye-popping precision, evoking a convincing enough peek into these real-life figures’ lives to necessitate disclaimers that it’s all speculative fiction. And led by Claire Foy, Olivia Colman, and, now five seasons in, Imelda Staunton as Queen Elizabeth II, it’s a murderers’ row of talent, the cream of the British acting crop that makes each episode essential viewing. [Jack Smart]

Seven years after its debut, Stranger Things sits high atop the Netflix crown, the most successful of the streamer’s various high-profile genre exercises. But back in 2016, all it had on its side was all that it ever really needed: an astonishingly good child cast (led by Millie Bobby Brown, compulsively watchable from the jump); a nuclear payload of nostalgic touchstones, not just for its 1980s era, but for the threads of nastiness that always lurked beneath its suburban facade; and a deft ability to import streaming-sized Spielbergian magic, hinting at a vast, wondrous, and terrible world lingering closer to its warmly realized vision of home than Eleven, Mike, or the rest of the Party could ever have comfortably guessed. [William Hughes]

Adding a whole new dimension to that old joke, “Why the long face?” is BoJack Horseman: the tale of a has-been horse navigating a Hollywood that would look a lot like our own were it not for its many other anthropomorphic residents. Raphael Bob-Waskberg’s animated comedy may be simultaneously the funniest and the saddest—and, in the opinions of many A.V. Club writers, the all-time best—of Netflix’s originals. Alongside Will Arnett’s depressed equestrian are Alison Brie’s adrift writer Diane Nguyen, Amy Sedaris’ cat-manager Princess Carolyn, Aaron Paul’s sweetly stupid Todd Chavez, and Paul F. Tompkins’ upbeat pup Mr. Peanutbutter, all characters that, despite living in this candy-colored, two-dimensional world, consistently feel like real, flawed, three-dimensional people audiences can’t help but love. [Jack Smart]