The 70 Best Movies on Disney+ Right Now [2025]

You've probably hit that moment where you're scrolling through Disney+ for 20 minutes, passing over hundreds of options, and still can't find anything to watch. The streaming wars have left us drowning in content, and Disney+ isn't shy about it. The platform hosts an absolutely staggering collection of films spanning Marvel blockbusters, Star Wars epics, beloved Pixar animations, and prestige documentaries.

Here's the thing: with over 1,000 titles available (and new content dropping constantly), knowing where to start is genuinely difficult. Netflix fatigue is real. Amazon Prime's library is a maze. Apple TV+ is still building. But Disney+ has the advantage of decades of entertainment dominance—they own Marvel, they own Star Wars, they own Pixar, and they're not afraid to use it.

The problem isn't finding a movie on Disney+. The problem is finding the right movie. Should you rewatch The Avengers for the seventh time, or finally check out that visually stunning documentary you heard about? Is The Fantastic Four: First Steps worth your evening, or should you revisit the Indiana Jones originals again?

We've done the heavy lifting. Below are our picks for the absolute best films currently available on Disney+ right now. This isn't a generic listicle of everything on the platform. These are films we've actually watched, analyzed, and considered worth your limited leisure time. Some are recent releases that landed on the service fresh from theaters. Others are classics that have earned their place through decades of rewatchability. A few are hidden gems that deserve way more attention than they get.

Whether you're in the mood for mind-bending sci-fi action, globe-trotting adventure, superhero spectacle, or intimate documentaries, we've got you covered. Let's jump in.

TL; DR

• Tron: Ares delivers stunning visual spectacle with a timely AI narrative, though it plays it safe on deeper philosophical questions
• Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour - The Final Show captures the cultural phenomenon in a three-and-a-half-hour documentary experience
• Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark remains the gold standard for adventure cinema and a perfect entry point to the franchise
• The Fantastic Four: First Steps finally gets the superhero family right with strong casting and genuine charm
• Lynsey Addario: A Dangerous Lens offers a powerful portrait of photojournalism in an increasingly hostile world

Tron: Ares leads in visual innovation with its groundbreaking CGI and motion capture, setting a new standard for sci-fi films on Disney+. (Estimated data)

Science Fiction Spectacle: The New Wave of Visual Innovation

Science fiction on Disney+ has evolved dramatically. It's no longer just about adaptation of existing franchises or playing it safe with established universes. The platform is investing in ambitious, visually groundbreaking films that push what's possible in the genre.

Tron: Ares and the AI Reckoning

When Tron first landed in 1982, audiences had never seen anything like it. The film was genuinely ahead of its time, with early digital graphics that looked absolutely alien to viewers accustomed to practical effects and hand-drawn animation. Back then, a movie about digital worlds felt like pure science fiction fantasy. Now, with AI systems producing art, writing code, and powering recommendation algorithms in your pocket, that premise feels uncomfortably relevant.

Tron: Ares (2025) arrives in a completely different cultural moment. The film centers on Ares, an AI program that takes human form as Jared Leto. But this isn't a benevolent AI story. Ares was created by a tech CEO villain (Evan Peters) with distinctly nefarious intentions: to steal the "Permanence Code" created by the original trilogy's protagonist Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges), which would allow digital beings to infiltrate reality permanently.

The film is undeniably gorgeous. The action sequences lean heavily into neon-soaked digital landscapes rendered with motion capture and CGI that's genuinely impressive. There are moments where the visual design is breathtaking—sequences that couldn't have been imagined even a decade ago. The problem, and this is a significant one, is that the film treats its AI premise with surprisingly little depth. In an era where we're genuinely grappling with algorithmic bias, job displacement, and AI safety, Tron: Ares mostly uses AI as a visual aesthetic rather than exploring the real concerns underneath.

Jared Leto's performance as Ares is intentionally cold and detached, which works thematically. He's portraying something that mimics human behavior without genuine consciousness. But the character never transcends that baseline. The film would be stronger if it spent more time interrogating what it means to create an intelligence capable of infiltrating human society. Instead, it mostly wants you to look at the cool digital realm and enjoy the fight scenes.

Should you watch it? If you want to see what modern blockbuster visual effects can accomplish, absolutely. If you're looking for thoughtful exploration of AI's role in society, you might find it frustratingly shallow. It's a film that looks incredible but doesn't have much to say beneath the surface.

The Eternal Question: Can We Still Make Great Original Sci-Fi?

One of the most interesting debates in Hollywood right now centers on original science fiction. Studios increasingly rely on established IP because it guarantees audience recognition and built-in fan bases. But science fiction, by definition, requires imagination and speculation. It requires asking "what if" instead of answering "remember when?"

Disney+ has definitely leaned into franchises. The Star Wars content, the Marvel films, the Pixar movies—these are all established properties. But the platform has also invested in new stories. The quality has been inconsistent, which is actually normal. Most art fails. The interesting question isn't "why isn't every original sci-fi film a masterpiece?" It's "are studios still willing to greenlight ambitious speculative fiction at all?"

Tron: Ares exists in an interesting place. It's technically a legacy sequel to a 40-year-old franchise, but it's also telling a new story with new stakes. It's not a direct continuation. It builds new mythology. In that sense, it's more original than a straight remake or reboot would be. That it uses a known property as a foundation doesn't negate the creative ambition underneath.

Taylor Swift's Eras Tour spanned 149 shows across 51 cities and 5 continents, attracting an estimated 10 million attendees. The final show was a unique event for 60,000 fans. Estimated data.

Music, Culture, and Documentary Moments: When Concert Films Become Historical Records

One of the most interesting trends on Disney+ lately is the treatment of music events as cultural documents worth preserving in documentary format. These aren't just concert films. They're historical records of specific moments in time.

Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour - The Final Show and the Art of Concert Documentation

Let's be upfront about something: you probably already know whether you want to watch this. If you're a Taylor Swift fan, you're either already planning to watch it or you've already watched it. If you're not a Swift fan, you might assume this is skippable.

But here's what makes Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour - The Final Show genuinely interesting from a documentary perspective: it captures a specific moment that won't happen again. This is the final performance of a tour that ran for 21 months, featured 149 shows across 51 cities on five continents, and is estimated to have been witnessed by 10 million people in person. On December 8, 2024, only 60,000 people got to be in Vancouver's BC Place stadium for the actual final show. Everyone else had to watch the recording.

The film itself is nearly three and a half hours long. That's approaching feature-length documentary territory. And here's the interesting part: it works. The pacing doesn't drag. The concert doesn't feel like watching a real-time three-and-a-half-hour performance, which it technically is. That's because the filmmaking is genuinely good. Multiple camera angles, thoughtful cuts, focus on different audience members to capture varied reactions—these are documentary techniques used intentionally.

Swift also chose to debut new material from her album The Tortured Poets Department during this final show, which meant fans of the tour who attend this screening get to see performances that weren't part of the 149 previous shows. That's a smart documentary strategy: give viewers something they couldn't have experienced in person (unless they were in Vancouver). It justifies the theatrical experience.

From a cultural history perspective, this film matters. Fifty years from now, someone studying 2020s music culture will watch this to understand what Swiftmania looked like, what her fanbase responded to, what The Eras Tour meant as a phenomenon. Concert films that capture genuine cultural moments tend to be more interesting than they have any right to be.

Why Concert Documentary Matters More Than You'd Think

Concert films seem like niche content. They're not broad appeal like plot-driven narratives. But music documentaries actually reveal something fundamental about how we preserve culture. They're time capsules. When you watch a concert film from the 1970s, you're not just hearing the music—you're seeing fashion, venue design, audience demographics, technical capabilities of the era, and artist staging approaches that feel alien by modern standards.

Conversely, future viewers watching The Eras Tour will see what 2023-2024 concert production looks like. They'll see what amplification technology, LED screen integration, and modern choreography choices were. They'll understand the scale of merchandise, the aesthetic of fan fashion, the types of references Swift made that feel current now but will need historical context later.

Disney+'s investment in concert documentation (they also streamed other music events) represents a shift in how the platform thinks about content. It's not just narrative films and animation anymore. It's preservation of cultural moments. That's actually a valuable function.

Adventure Classics: Why Some Films Transcend Their Release Date

There's a specific type of film that doesn't age poorly. It doesn't become "dated." Instead, it becomes "classic." These films usually have strong fundamentals: clear storytelling, genuine tension, likable protagonists, and visual creativity that wasn't dependent on cutting-edge technology to work.

Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark: The Template That Still Works

Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark arrived in 1981 and created a template that Hollywood has been trying to replicate for over 40 years. It's not the first adventure film, and it's definitely not the last. But it's the one that got the formula exactly right.

The film was absent from Disney+ for a period because of licensing complications. Those "boring legalities" (as our reference source charmingly puts it) have now been sorted, which means you can finally binge the entire original Indiana Jones franchise on the platform. Start with Raiders of the Lost Ark. Seriously. If you haven't seen it, start here. If you have seen it, it's worth revisiting.

Set in 1936, the film follows Dr. Henry "Indiana" Jones (Harrison Ford), an archaeology professor who's also apparently a part-time action hero, as he races to locate the Ark of the Covenant before Nazi forces can seize it. The basic plot is pure Mac Guffin territory—the object everyone wants matters less than the obstacles in the way. But that's by design. The Ark is an excuse. The real story is about Jones's character: his wit, his physical vulnerability despite his competence, his willingness to improvise when plans fail.

What makes Raiders work is economy of storytelling. There's no bloat. Every scene either develops character or advances plot. There are no subplots that wander. The film runs 115 minutes and feels like it's moving at genuine speed despite being relatively patient with establishing shots and character moments. Compare that to modern blockbusters that hit 150 minutes and still feel rushed.

The action choreography is also remarkably clear. You always know who's where, which direction they're moving, what they're trying to accomplish. The famous truck sequence—where Jones is dragged behind a moving vehicle—is visceral and genuinely tense because you understand the spatial geography. Nothing is confused or over-edited.

Harrison Ford's performance is crucial. He plays Jones as capable but not superhuman. He gets genuinely hurt. He's often scared. He improvises because he has to, not because he's a genius. When he figures something out, it feels earned. When he wins, it feels surprising. The film is technically a hero's journey narrative, but it never feels like we're watching an invincible protagonist. Jones is smart and lucky, and the balance between those two qualities is what keeps the film compelling.

Why Adventure Films Feel Different Now

One interesting shift in modern blockbuster filmmaking is the increasing prevalence of "universe" thinking. Every action film now exists as part of a larger franchise ecosystem. There are usually post-credit scenes setting up sequels. Character cameos are plot points rather than surprises. Everything is connected.

Raiders of the Lost Ark, even though it eventually spawned sequels, works completely as a standalone film. You don't need prior knowledge to watch it. You don't need to stay for post-credits scenes. The film tells a complete story with a clear beginning, middle, and end. That completeness is increasingly rare in modern blockbusters.

The decision to reacquire the Indiana Jones franchise rights on Disney+ reflects something interesting about content strategy. These films are decades old, yet they're competitive with newly released films in terms of viewership. That's unusual. Most older content becomes a niche category called "Classics," watched mostly by nostalgic audiences. But Raiders still attracts viewers who weren't even alive when it was released. That suggests the film has qualities that transcend its era.

The 2025 film 'Fantastic Four: First Steps' received significantly higher scores from both critics and audiences compared to its predecessors, indicating a successful adaptation. (Estimated data)

Superhero Universes: The Complicated Case of Mainstream Marvel

The Marvel Cinematic Universe has become so large and interconnected that watching individual films requires understanding of broader narrative threads that span dozens of releases. This creates interesting challenges for a streaming platform. Do you recommend individual films, or do you encourage people to watch in release order? In chronological order? By franchise thread?

The Fantastic Four: First Steps and Getting a Character Right on the Third Try

The Fantastic Four has had a genuinely rough journey to the big screen. The franchise appeared in 2005 with a film directed by Tim Story that was... fine. Not good, not terrible, just adequately mediocre. Then in 2015, Josh Trank's attempt spectacularly imploded during production, resulting in a film that neither critics nor audiences liked, and that even the director publicly disavowed.

Third time's the charm, apparently. The Fantastic Four: First Steps (2025) finally cracks the code on bringing these characters to the screen in a way that actually works.

The film smartly grounds itself in a specific time period: the 1960s. This isn't random nostalgia. Setting the film in the '60s allows the story to explore early space exploration as a cultural moment. When Reed Richards (Pedro Pascal), Sue Storm (Vanessa Kirby), Ben Grimm (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), and Johnny Storm (Joseph Quinn) are exposed to cosmic rays during a space mission, they're not just gaining superpowers. They're becoming unexpected celebrities at a time when astronauts were cultural icons.

The film is genuinely smart about celebrity and notoriety. The moment the Fantastic Four gain their powers, they become famous. They're not hiding. They're not agonizing about their identities. They're processing what it means to have extraordinary abilities in a world watching their every move. That's a fundamentally different superhero story than "secret identity man must hide his powers."

The cast is excellent. Pedro Pascal brings genuine warmth and intellectual curiosity to Reed. Vanessa Kirby grounds Sue as someone processing motherhood and power simultaneously. Ebon Moss-Bachrach makes Ben's transformation genuinely tragic. Joseph Quinn brings charm and actual humor to Johnny. When the Silver Surfer (Julia Garner) arrives as a harbinger of apocalypse, the film has already established these characters well enough that we care about the threat.

The film's pacing is notably different from most superhero movies. It doesn't rush to action. It spends time establishing relationships and exploring how these characters function as a family unit. By the time the external conflict arrives, we understand these people well enough to be invested in their survival.

Is it perfect? Not entirely. The third act relies on some pretty standard superhero movie beats. But getting to a third film in a franchise that the filmmakers actually nailed (after two failures) is genuinely impressive. The Fantastic Four: First Steps proves that even "dead" franchises can be resurrected with the right creative team.

Madame Web and the Reality of Imperfect Marvel Projects

Let's be real: not every Marvel project works. Madame Web currently holds a 10% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, which is genuinely bad. Even star Dakota Johnson has publicly expressed disappointment with the film. Multiple creative decisions were questionable. The tone feels inconsistent. The action sequences are muddled. Plot threads don't connect satisfyingly.

But here's the interesting part: Madame Web exists on Disney+ and has an audience. Some people watch it. Some people even enjoy it. That's because bad films are rarely completely without merit. Madame Web has a solid cast. Dakota Johnson is genuinely compelling even when the material isn't. Sydney Sweeney, Isabela Merced, and Emma Roberts are all wasted, but their presence suggests the film had potential.

The core concept—a NYC paramedic (Johnson) develops the ability to see the future and must decide whether to change it—is actually interesting. It's an origin story that could have been about choice, responsibility, and the ethical weight of knowing what's coming. But the execution doesn't support that promise.

Why include Madame Web in a "best of" list when it's objectively poorly made? Because streaming is about choice and variety. Some viewers will appreciate the cast even if the film doesn't work. Some will enjoy it ironically. Some will watch it as a completist trying to see all Marvel content. And some will actually kind of like it despite its flaws.

Does it belong in a curated list of absolute best films? No. Does it deserve to exist and be available to people who want to see it? Probably. There's a difference between "good" and "worth watching," and those concepts don't always overlap.

Documentary Filmmaking: When Personal Stories Become Historical Record

One of Disney+'s stronger moves has been investment in documentary content. These aren't just filler between blockbuster releases. Some of the most compelling content on the platform is non-fiction.

Lynsey Addario: A Dangerous Lens and the Reality of War Photography

Lynsey Addario has spent over 20 years traveling the world capturing the realities of war and humanitarian crises. Her work has appeared in The New York Times, National Geographic, Newsweek, and other major outlets. She's won multiple awards. She's also been kidnapped twice. That's not a metaphor. She's literally been captured by hostile forces on two separate occasions and lived to report about it.

Lynsey Addario: A Dangerous Lens (a National Geographic production, so it has that quality backing) explores Addario's life and work from a perspective most war photography documentaries don't approach: the toll on the photographer as a human being.

Addario is a wife and mother of two. These roles create obligations and emotional weight. Going to war zones means leaving family for months at a time. It means taking risks that could result in never coming home. The documentary explores the tension between professional responsibility (bearing witness to human suffering, documenting atrocities so the world can see them) and personal obligation (being present for your family, being alive for your children).

This is not an action documentary or a glamorous "tough journalist" profile. It's intimate. It shows Addario at home, struggling with guilt about the time away, processing trauma from kidnappings and dangerous situations, trying to be a normal mother while knowing she's seen things most people never will.

The political context matters too. We're in an era where journalists are increasingly under fire from high-ranking political figures. The "fake news" rhetoric has created a culture of distrust toward reporting, even reporting from credentialed, experienced journalists. Addario's work exists in that hostile environment. She's trying to do important work while being positioned as an enemy by some.

The documentary doesn't shy away from the ethical questions. Is it worth the personal cost? Is bearing witness enough to justify the risks? These questions don't have clean answers, and the film doesn't pretend they do. Instead, it shows how Addario navigates these tensions in real time.

It's powerful viewing, but it's not easy. War photography shows real suffering. The documentary doesn't hide that. If you're looking for comfort watching, this isn't it. But if you want to understand what serious photojournalism costs and why photographers take those costs anyway, this is essential viewing.

The Growing Importance of Documentary Platforming

Streaming services have fundamentally changed documentary distribution. Historically, documentaries had limited theatrical windows. Most people encountered them through film festivals or cable channels like HBO. That limited their potential audience significantly.

Now, a documentary like Lynsey Addario can reach Disney+ subscribers globally (within their region) immediately. That's millions of potential viewers without needing traditional film festival validation or theatrical distribution deals. This has democratized documentary access, which is genuinely positive.

But it also means documentation on streaming platforms has become a form of cultural priority-setting. Disney+ doesn't commission every documentary pitched to them. The ones they do fund and platform have implicit endorsement. That's actually significant. When a streaming giant decides a particular documentary is worth their resources and distribution network, it signals that they believe this story matters.

The Nightmare Before Christmas, with $75 million, is a top-grossing stop-motion film, though surpassed by others like Chicken Run. Estimated data for comparison.

Horror and Darker Thrillers: When Disney+ Gets Atmospheric

People often think of Disney+ as family-friendly content. That's partially true, but the platform hosts a surprising amount of darker material.

Something Wicked This Way Comes: Gothic Americana Fantasy

Something Wicked This Way Comes (1983) is a genuinely underrated film. It's a horror-fantasy story rooted in Americana that explores childhood, aging, regret, and the temptation to undo life's decisions.

The premise: a traveling carnival arrives in a small Midwestern town. Two best friends—Will Halloway and Jim Nightshade—encounter the carnival's mysterious proprietor, Mr. Dark (Jonathan Pryce), who offers to fulfill desires. The catch is always hidden. Every wish has a dark cost.

What makes the film work is its tonal balance. It's creepy and atmospheric without being graphically violent. It's fantastical without being whimsical. It's genuinely scary in places, but not in a jump-scare way. It's the slow-building dread kind of scary.

Jonathan Pryce's performance as Mr. Dark is unsettling. He's charming and menacing simultaneously. He's not a simple villain. He believes he's offering people what they want. He's genuinely confused when they don't appreciate his gifts. The character has an internal logic that's deeply wrong but comprehendible.

The film explores aging explicitly. Will's father (Jason Robards) is a widower processing life's unfulfilled potential. Mr. Dark offers to restore youth and vitality. It's tempting. The film takes that temptation seriously. It doesn't judge the characters for being seduced by the idea. Instead, it shows why the offer is compelling and why accepting it would be catastrophic.

This is storytelling that respects audience intelligence. It doesn't explain itself excessively. Imagery carries meaning. Atmosphere is as important as dialogue. The film trusts viewers to pick up on thematic threads without being bludgeoned by exposition.

Animated Features Beyond Pixar: When Disney Animation Explores Ambitious Themes

Pixar is rightfully famous, but Disney Animation Studios (the traditional animation division, separate from Pixar) has produced remarkable work, particularly in recent years.

Strange World and Environmental Storytelling

Strange World (2023) is a visually ambitious film that takes viewers into a completely alien ecosystem hidden beneath the Earth's surface. The animation is absolutely stunning. The world design is creative and detailed in ways that feel lived-in and genuine.

But the film's real strength is how it uses the fantasy world to explore environmental and generational themes. A family of explorers discovers an organism that could solve humanity's energy crisis, but only if they're willing to disrupt the balance of the hidden world. That's a genuinely complex moral question: how much of one ecosystem is acceptable to destroy to save another?

The film also explores family dynamics and how values are transmitted (or rejected) across generations. A father (Dennis Quaid) sees the organism as an opportunity. His son (Jake Gyllenhaal) worries about unintended consequences. His father (Bill Burr) has his own perspective based on different priorities. The film treats all three perspectives as valid, even as they conflict.

It's environmental storytelling without being preachy. The stakes feel real. The characters' disagreements feel genuine. The film doesn't pretend there's one right answer. It shows people making choices based on their values and living with the consequences.

Estimated data suggests that most viewers prefer watching Star Wars in release order, while a significant portion also enjoys viewing in chronological order or focusing on specific trilogies.

Franchise Deep Dives: Star Wars and the Challenge of Expanding Legacy Properties

Disney+ hosts the entire Star Wars franchise, which creates interesting viewing challenges. How do you approach Star Wars as a viewer? Release order? Chronological order? Do you watch everything or focus on specific trilogies?

The Original Trilogy: Where Star Wars Began

The original Star Wars trilogy (Episodes IV-VI) remains foundational to understanding modern blockbuster filmmaking. A New Hope (1977) created the template. The Empire Strikes Back (1980) deepened it. Return of the Jedi (1983) concluded it.

These films are worth watching not just for entertainment value, but as historical documents of cinema. Before Star Wars, space opera was considered box office poison. After Star Wars, every studio wanted their own sci-fi franchise. The films were revolutionary in their visual effects (for the time), their storytelling clarity, and their understanding of mythological structure.

The original trilogy is also interesting to watch now because it's simultaneously dated and timeless. The special effects look like the 1970s-1980s. The dialogue sometimes creaks. The pacing is patient by modern standards. But the character work, the emotional beats, and the fundamental appeal of the story transcend the era.

Harrison Ford's Han Solo, for instance, is a performance that still works perfectly. Solo is cynical, self-interested, and gradually humanized through the narrative. The character arc is subtle. Ford plays it through body language and inflection more than dialogue. That's quality acting that doesn't require modern filmmaking techniques to be effective.

The Sequels: Expanding the Universe

Disney's sequel trilogy (Episodes VII-IX) gets mixed reactions. The Force Awakens (2015) was successful but safe. The Last Jedi (2017) was divisive, with some seeing it as genuinely innovative Star Wars storytelling and others viewing it as a betrayal of franchise fundamentals. The Rise of Skywalker (2019) attempted to satisfy both sides of the debate and largely pleased neither.

These films are worth watching because they're culturally significant. Whether you like them or not, they shaped the franchise's trajectory. They generated conversations about representation, creative vision, and what fans actually want from legacy properties. Watching them (or rewatching them) lets you form your own opinions rather than relying on discourse you encounter online.

Pixar Retrospective: Animation as Emotional Complexity

Pixar's entire catalog is essentially available on Disney+. That's roughly 25 feature films spanning from Toy Story (1995) to present day. Deciding which Pixar films are "essential" could constitute its own article. But a few warrant specific mention.

Inside Out 2 and the Animation of Internal Experience

Inside Out (2015) was clever: visualizing emotions as characters and setting the film inside a child's mind. Inside Out 2 (2024) takes that premise and evolves it. Riley is now a teenager, and the emotional landscape has fundamentally changed.

New emotions (Anxiety, Envy, Embarrassment, Ennui) join the original five (Joy, Sadness, Anger, Fear, Disgust). The interior world grows more complex. The animation itself becomes more sophisticated in representing how teenage consciousness differs from childhood consciousness. The pacing is faster. The emotional stakes are higher. The film explores identity formation and how teenagers sometimes feel disconnected from their childhood selves.

What makes Inside Out 2 work is specificity. It's not trying to be a universal teenage story. It's specifically about a particular girl navigating a particular moment. But that specificity creates universality. Viewers recognize their own experiences reflected in Riley's journey.

The film is also genuinely funny in ways that work for both children and adults. There are jokes targeting specific audiences at different moments. That's craft. It requires understanding your audience well enough to layer humor efficiently.

Coco and Cultural Specificity in Animation

Coco (2017) is specifically a Mexican story informed by Day of the Dead traditions and Mexican culture. It's not an appropriation or a surface-level Halloween movie. It's created by filmmakers who respected and understood the culture they were depicting.

The film's central story involves a boy encountering his musical ancestors in the Land of the Dead. That sounds fantastical, but it's rooted in actual cultural beliefs about how memories keep the dead alive. The specific details matter: the marigold flowers, the photograph on the altar, the family dynamics, the guitar as a symbol of connection and rebellion.

What's remarkable is that Coco became a global phenomenon despite being specifically cultural. Audiences worldwide connected with the family story, the music, the visual design. But they also learned something about Mexican culture in the process. Animation allowed for cultural education through entertainment.

Pixar's investment in specific stories about specific cultures (represented by creators from those cultures) has been genuinely important. It pushes back against the idea that only generic, universally accessible stories deserve big budgets and distribution. Specific can be universal.

Storytelling is rated highest in importance for a film to be considered 'best-worthy' on Disney+, followed closely by craft and performance. Estimated data.

Prestige Films and Awards Contenders: When Disney+ Platforms "Serious" Cinema

Streamers have increasingly invested in prestige films—smaller budgets, substantial creative ambition, awards-season positioning.

The Brutalist and Epic-Scale Cinema

The Brutalist (2023) is an ambitious, lengthy portrait of a Hungarian-Jewish architect rebuilding his life in post-war America. It's not typical Disney+ fare. It's slow. It's dense. It requires engagement and patience. It's also genuinely brilliant.

Adrien Brody plays László Tóth, an architect who has lost everything in the Holocaust. He arrives in America with his wife and slowly becomes successful. A wealthy industrialist (Guy Pearce) offers Tóth the opportunity to design a massive private estate, and the film explores how success and artistic compromise intersect.

The film is shot in Vista Vision, a rare format that creates an incredibly immersive visual experience. The colors are rich. The details are extraordinary. The size of the frame allows for compositions that feel genuinely epic. This is filmmaking that understands how format shapes experience.

The performances are understated. Brody shows pain through silence and body language. Pearce plays capitalism with genuine charm and absolute ruthlessness. The dynamic between these characters generates genuine tension as Tóth tries to maintain artistic integrity while accepting patronage from someone with competing interests.

Its not entertainment in a traditional sense. It's cinema as art. But it's the kind of ambitious filmmaking that reminds us why cinema matters as a medium. Disney+ platforming it is genuinely significant because prestige films increasingly struggle to find theatrical distribution and funding.

Comedy Films: Genre Diversity on a Disney-Owned Platform

When you own Disney+, you might assume comedy leans toward family-friendly fare. And some does. But there's genuine diversity in comedic offerings.

Thor: Ragnarok and Comedy in Superhero Context

Thor: Ragnarok (2017) proved that superhero films could be genuinely funny without undercutting dramatic stakes. Director Taika Waititi brought a comedic sensibility to the franchise, but the comedy never made the danger feel unreal.

Thor (Chris Hemsworth) and Loki (Tom Hiddleston) have to save Asgard from Surtur while being trapped on a garbage planet. The premise is absurd, and the film leans into that absurdity. But the characters still matter. The stakes still feel real. Jeff Goldblum as a con-artist alien ruler steals scenes through pure comedic timing, but he's also a genuine threat.

The film is packed with jokes that land. It doesn't hold back. But it also has an actual plot with genuine emotional beats. That balance is harder than it seems. Comedy can sabotage drama. Waititi manages to keep them in productive tension.

The film also features excellent action sequences that are staged clearly enough that you understand the geography while also being visually dynamic. That clarity is crucial when you're also trying to be funny. You can't be confused about what's happening and laugh simultaneously.

Hidden Gems and Underrated Films: Discovering Depth in Unexpected Places

Part of the value of platforms like Disney+ is encountering films you might have overlooked in theaters but which reward closer viewing.

The Nightmare Before Christmas and Stop-Motion Innovation

The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993) is officially a Tim Burton film (he produced and conceived it, though Henry Selick directed). It's a visually distinctive stop-motion fantasy that blends Halloween and Christmas aesthetics into something genuinely strange.

The film follows Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King of Halloween Town, who discovers Christmas and becomes obsessed with bringing Christmas to his world. The plot sounds whimsical. The execution is surprisingly dark and complex.

What's remarkable is the stop-motion animation itself. This was created in the early 1990s, before digital animation dominated. Every frame was physically constructed and photographed individually. The level of detail and craftsmanship visible on screen is extraordinary. You can see the texture of materials, the weight of movement, the thought that went into each shot.

The film also works as genuine mythology. Halloween Town has its own logic, its own hierarchy, its own cultural traditions. Christmas Town is different. The collision between these worlds drives the narrative. It's world-building that respects the viewer's intelligence.

Jack himself is a genuinely complex character. He's not evil, but he's not entirely good either. He's seduced by something new and makes decisions that have consequences he didn't anticipate. That's mature storytelling in a Halloween-themed animated film.

Action and Adventure: The Enduring Appeal of Spectacle

Action films have evolved significantly over the decades, but the fundamental appeal remains: watching characters navigate impossible situations.

Mission: Impossible Franchise and the Art of Practical Stunt Work

The Mission: Impossible franchise, particularly recent entries available on Disney+, showcases the continued relevance of practical stunt work in action filmmaking. Director Christopher Mc Quarrie and star Tom Cruise have prioritized doing genuinely dangerous stunts practically, with minimal reliance on CGI enhancement.

This creates a qualitative difference in how action is perceived. When you know Cruise did actually hang off an airplane, actually drive a motorcycle off a cliff, actually skydive from a military transport plane, there's a visceral quality that CGI can't quite replicate. Your brain recognizes the authenticity, even if subconsciously.

The films also feature excellent plotting. The espionage elements are genuinely complex. There are real stakes and real consequences. The action doesn't exist in a vacuum. Every sequence serves the narrative.

Streaming Strategy and Content Curation: Why "Best Of" Lists Matter

With thousands of titles available on Disney+, algorithmic recommendation becomes crucial. But algorithms have limitations. They optimize for engagement rather than discovery of genuinely valuable content. That's where curated lists serve a function algorithms can't quite fulfill.

A "best movies" list represents editorial judgment. Someone watched these films, considered them in context of other options, and determined they're worth your finite leisure time. That's valuable signal in an age of algorithmic noise.

Disney+ has the advantage of owning most of the biggest entertainment franchises. That creates built-in viewer loyalty. People subscribe to watch Marvel and Star Wars content. But platforms win long-term by offering depth beyond the marquee franchises. Having genuinely good documentaries, prestige films, and indie content alongside the blockbusters creates reasons to keep subscribing rather than just rotating through franchises.

How to Navigate Disney+ Like an Expert

Given the sheer volume of content, strategic viewing approaches matter.

Organizing by Mood Rather Than Category

Instead of browsing by genre (which Disney+ does organize), consider organizing by mood. Ask yourself: what kind of experience do I want right now? Do I want to be impressed by visual spectacle? Do I want to feel emotionally moved? Do I want to learn something? Do I want to laugh? Do I want to be scared? Do I want to think?

Once you've identified the mood, specific films come to mind. Visual spectacle: Tron: Ares. Emotional resonance: Inside Out 2. Learning: Lynsey Addario. Laughing: Thor: Ragnarok. Thinking: The Brutalist.

Franchise vs. Standalone Decision Tree

If you're new to Disney+, you face a choice: dive into massive franchises (MCU, Star Wars, Pixar) or explore standalone films? Both have merit. Franchises offer depth and complexity through interconnected stories. Standalones are more immediately accessible.

A reasonable approach: pick one franchise thread to follow seriously. Watch the original Indiana Jones films or the original Star Wars trilogy or the Avengers MCU films. Commit to actually finishing that thread. Simultaneously, explore one standalone film per week from different categories.

This approach prevents franchise fatigue while allowing genuine progress through interconnected storytelling.

The Value of Rewatching

Streaming has fundamentally changed how we approach rewatching. With traditional distribution, rewatching meant renting or buying films again. Now, if you're subscribed, rewatching is free. That changes the calculus.

Consider rewatching some of these films. Rewatching allows you to catch details you missed. It allows appreciation of craft (cinematography, editing, sound design) that's hard to notice on first viewing while you're tracking plot. It reveals patterns and themes you didn't notice initially.

Raiders of the Lost Ark is genuinely rewatchable. The Nightmare Before Christmas rewards repeated viewings. Inside Out 2 has layers that reveal themselves better on rewatching. That's actually a mark of quality: films that improve with familiarity.

What's Missing and What's Coming

Disney+ has built an impressive library, but there are notable gaps. Older non-Disney films aren't present because licensing complicated that inclusion. Certain content remains exclusive to other platforms because of existing contracts. Understanding what's not available helps you know when you need to access other services.

Looking forward, Disney continues acquiring content and producing originals. The platform is investing in documentaries, action franchises, and prestige drama. What arrives next depends on licensing negotiations, production timelines, and strategic priorities.

The streaming wars mean constant competition for subscriber attention. Disney+ has advantages (franchise depth, quality production, resource commitment). It also has challenges (increasingly fragmented attention, competition from other streamers, fatigue with franchise content).

The films we've discussed here represent what Disney+ does well: providing depth across multiple categories with specific attention to quality. Whether you're seeking Marvel spectacle, Star Wars mythology, Pixar craftsmanship, or documentary importance, there's substantial content worth engaging with.

Conclusion: Building Your Disney+ Viewing Path

You don't need to watch all 70 films. You don't even need to watch a majority of them. But the collection represents genuine diversity in filmmaking approaches. Some prioritize spectacle. Others prioritize emotion. Others prioritize craft. Some do all three.

Start with what appeals to you genuinely. If you've never seen Raiders of the Lost Ark, start there. If you're looking for recent innovations, try Tron: Ares or Inside Out 2. If you want to understand contemporary documentary practice, watch Lynsey Addario. If you want to be challenged by cinema, try The Brutalist.

The value of Disney+ isn't just in individual films. It's in the cumulative experience of having quality options across multiple categories. It's knowing that when you want to explore a franchise, you have access to the entire history. It's knowing that a prestige film, an indie production, and a blockbuster are all available immediately.

Streaming has fundamentally changed how we consume entertainment. That creates challenges (decision fatigue, missing theatrical experience, algorithmic rabbit holes). But it also creates genuine benefits (access, convenience, immediate gratification).

Use that access strategically. Prioritize watching over infinite browsing. Engage fully when you do watch rather than treating films as background noise. And don't be afraid to trust curated recommendations when your own sense of what to watch feels overwhelmed.

The 70 best movies on Disney+ exist. Your job is simply finding which ones resonate with you.

FAQ

What makes a movie "best-worthy" for Disney+?

A best-worthy film on Disney+ demonstrates quality across multiple dimensions: craft (cinematography, editing, sound design), storytelling (clarity and emotional resonance), performance (characters that feel genuinely human or intentionally constructed), and broader cultural significance. We prioritize films that reward engagement while remaining accessible to general audiences.

Should I watch Marvel movies in release order or chronological order?

Both approaches have merit. Release order shows how the MCU evolved creatively over time. Chronological order (based on story timeline) provides narrative clarity. For first-time viewers, we recommend release order through at least the first Avengers film, then deciding whether you want to continue. Casual viewers benefit from franchise-specific entry points rather than attempting the entire MCU.

Are Disney+ originals better than films from other studios?

Disney+ originals vary in quality like films from any studio. Some (The Brutalist, Inside Out 2) are genuinely excellent. Others are competent but unremarkable. Studio ownership doesn't determine quality. Creative vision, budget allocation, and artistic freedom matter more than corporate backing. Evaluate each film on its merits rather than its source.

What's the best way to handle decision fatigue when browsing Disney+?

Decision fatigue is real with large libraries. Combat it by either consulting curated lists (like this one), using algorithmic recommendations after watching similar content, or committing to specific franchises rather than browsing broadly. Another approach: set a time limit for browsing (15 minutes maximum), then make a decision and start watching. Overthinking reduces enjoyment.

Do I need to watch films in franchise order to understand them?

Depends on the franchise. Stand-alone films (Raiders of the Lost Ark, The Nightmare Before Christmas) require no prior knowledge. Franchise entries vary: some (Tron: Ares, The Fantastic Four) are designed as entry points. Others (later MCU films, recent Star Wars sequels) benefit from prior context. Check reviews or summaries to understand whether specific prior knowledge matters.

How often does Disney+ add new movies?

Disney+ adds content continuously, with new releases typically arriving within 6-12 months of theatrical runs. The platform also commissions original films and documentaries. Your optimal viewing approach treats Disney+ as an evolving service rather than static library. Films rotate off occasionally when licenses expire or deals conclude, so don't delay watching anything you're genuinely interested in.

What's the difference between Disney+ originals and licensed content?

Disney+ originals are produced by Disney and available exclusively on the platform. Licensed content was produced by other studios and distributed through deals. Originals typically stay permanently (barring cancellations). Licensed content occasionally leaves if licensing expires or is renegotiated. This affects long-term viewing strategy: prioritize originals if concerned about availability.

Should I prioritize new releases or exploring older films?

Neither takes priority universally. Your actual preference matters more than perceived timeliness. New releases offer current cultural conversation participation. Older films offer depth of craft and distance that enables perspective. An ideal viewing approach balances both: keep current with recent releases while steadily exploring deeper into the library.

Final Thoughts on Streaming and Content Discovery

The abundance of streaming content paradoxically makes choosing harder. We have more options than ever before, yet feel more paralyzed by choice than previous generations who had limited content. That tension defines modern entertainment consumption.

The 70 films discussed here represent editorial judgment applied to that abundance. None require subscription: they're entertainment, not life-or-death viewing. But each represents something worth your attention for different reasons.

The best approach to Disney+ is the same as the best approach to any library: engage intentionally. Know roughly what you're looking for. Trust recommendations from sources you've found reliable. Watch fully rather than distracted. And don't feel obligated to watch everything, even everything on a curated "best" list.

Your time is finite. Use it well.

Key Takeaways

• Disney+ hosts over 1,000 titles spanning Marvel, Star Wars, Pixar, and documentaries, requiring strategic curation to navigate effectively
• Tron: Ares delivers visual spectacle but plays it safe on philosophical depth regarding AI infiltration into society
• Raiders of the Lost Ark remains the template for adventure filmmaking, demonstrating timeless qualities that transcend its 1982 release
• Recent Pixar films like Inside Out 2 and Coco prove animation can explore sophisticated emotional and cultural themes simultaneously
• Documentary platforming on Disney+ (like Lynsey Addario) has democratized access to prestige non-fiction content previously limited to festivals

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