(Credit: Netflix)

With so many new releases dropping every week, it’s easy to overlook the quieter films buried in the catalogue of Netflix. But sometimes, the movie worth watching is not the flashiest one. It is not trending. It is not backed by a franchise. It is just a story that gets under your skin and stays there.

That is exactly the case with Christine. A 2016 drama that keeps resurfacing on Netflix now and then. And if you are looking for something that lingers long after the credits roll, this is the one.

Directed by Antonio Campos and starring Rebecca Hall in a career-defining performance, Christine tells the true story of Christine Chubbuck. She was a Florida news reporter who made headlines in 1974 for a tragic on-air incident. The film does not sensationalise what happened. Instead, it zooms in on the person behind the headlines. It focuses on her loneliness, her frustration, and her desperate search for meaning in a world that often made her feel invisible.

What makes Christine so gripping is how quiet it is. The drama is internal. There are no big speeches or emotional outbursts. Just small, loaded moments that slowly build toward something inevitable. You watch Christine try to be heard in a newsroom more concerned with ratings than substance. You see her try to connect with her coworkers, only to feel alienated by their indifference. You see her aching for something more, without knowing where to look for it.

Rebecca Hall’s performance is astonishing. She captures Christine’s intelligence, wit, and deep sadness without ever leaning into cliché. Every glance, every silence, every awkward pause feels honest. There is no artifice in her performance. Just a woman trying to keep it together while everything inside her is unravelling.

The film also avoids turning Christine into a symbol. It never reduces her to a single tragic act. Instead, it gives her space to be complex. She is funny, difficult, passionate, guarded, and deeply human. That is what makes the ending hit so hard. You are not just watching a moment in history. You are watching someone you have come to understand.

Visually, Christine leans into 1970s realism. The muted tones and grainy textures make everything feel grounded. The newsroom is cramped and unglamorous. The pacing is slow but deliberate. It matches Christine’s own emotional rhythm, which is somewhat restless and uneasy, waiting for something to change.

This is not an easy watch. It is not meant to be. But it is an important one. It opens up a conversation about mental health, media ethics, and what it means to be truly seen. It asks tough questions and never offers easy answers.

In a streaming world filled with noise, Christine stands out by being still. It is a film that respects its subject and its audience. It invites you to lean in, pay attention, and sit with discomfort. And for that reason alone, it deserves your time.

So if you are scrolling aimlessly on Netflix tonight, looking for something real, something that will leave a mark, stop on Christine. It might not be the movie you expected to watch, but it might be the one you remember the longest.