10 Netflix Original Movies That Need Physical Media Releases

Though Netflix has become synonymous with at-home entertainment for many, this company hasn't entirely detached its name from controversy or criticism. The worst acting performances on various Netflix shows, for instance, have drawn plenty of ire. All the dumb things we can't ignore in the "Stranger Things" finale also brought some negativity to the platform's name. More severely, Netflix is infamous for its longstanding and frustrating hostility towards traditional theatrical releases for its original movies. That particular problem goes hand-in-hand with an especially egregious Netflix-based flaw: The streamer's hesitancy to put its exclusive movies out on physical media.

Netflix has consistently eschewed putting most of its original movies and TV shows on DVD and Blu-Ray. While a handful of Netflix original motion pictures (like "The Irishman," "Roma," and "Atlantics," among a scant few others) have garnered Criterion Collection physical media releases, the vast majority of its cinematic library remains locked behind the streamer's paywall. This poses a major dilemma when it comes to ensuring all films are as accessible to as many people as possible, especially as major retailers begin phasing out physical media. 

However, there are 10 Netflix original movies that egregiously lack a tangible home video release. Whether it's because of the historical significance of these individual movies or other factors like the prestige of the directors that brought them to life, it's downright essential for the medium of cinema that these features receive proper home video releases. They certainly deserve better than being only experienced as part of a "Netflix and chill" equation. 

In October 1985, the legendary artist Orson Welles passed away. With this tragedy, a cavalcade of his directorial efforts was left unfinished. Because of the widespread interest in anything bearing the man's name, there have been various attempts over the years to get these half-realized productions into a completed form. One of these endeavors was "The Other Side of the Wind," which began shooting in the 1970s. After Welles passed, it was stuck in a horrific limbo stemming from all kinds of legal issues, as well as practical problems inherent in trying to bring this sprawling project to fruition. For so long, it looked like it would only register as a hypothetical scenario for fans of Welles rather than something you could watch.

That all changed in November 2018, when "The Other Side of the Wind" was finally released to the world via Netflix. Thanks to the hard work of folks like producer Frank Marshall and editor Bob Murawski, the final version of the film was a fittingly impressive and form-shattering experience worthy of the filmmaker behind "F For Fake." Such an important and seemingly impossible creative project shouldn't just be available to Netflix subscribers. A proper home video release, complete with behind-the-scenes goodies detailing the process of realizing this motion picture, should be a no-brainer. Making "The Other Side of the Wind" accessible to all film geeks would be a happy ending to its tumultuous lifespan.

No one knew it at the time, but 2018's "The Ballad of Buster Scruggs" was the end of an era — and not just because it was the first movie from directors Joel and Ethan Coen to go straight to streaming. It was also the last time these two artists (as of this writing) would work together. Since this western anthology film, the pair have gone off on their own separate creative pursuits. Joel Coen has helmed "The Tragedy of Macbeth," while Ethan Coen has directed wacky lesbian-centric comedies like "Drive-Away Dolls." Though it didn't get a grand, traditional theatrical run, "Buster Scruggs" was still a massive turning point in the duo's body of work.

The film was also an evolution of their long-standing fascination with the western genre, which previously materialized in works like "No Country for Old Men" and "True Grit." Here, the Coens got to explore all kinds of different styles of western storytelling, thanks to the film's anthology structure. In so many ways, this project was an audacious feature well worth viewing for those enamored with prior Coen Brothers works. However, this title's artistic triumphs (and three Oscar nominations) haven't been enough to inspire Netflix to give it a home video release.

Given that every other movie Joel and Ethan Coen directed together is available on physical media, it only makes sense to provide "The Ballad of Buster Scruggs" a splashy Blu-Ray release. Give this conclusion to a filmmaking era its due.

The 2018 documentary "Shirkers" is rooted in the 90s. Specifically, it's all about director Sandi Tan trying to get a ramshackle indie movie off the ground in Singapore more than two decades ago. With the aid of a film teacher named Georges Cardona, Tan hoped to make a powerful motion picture both reflecting her passion for film and upending what Singapore cinema could look like. However, as Tan recalls, Cardona eventually snuck off with the footage, leaving the film incomplete and a key portion of Tan's life unresolved. This whole saga makes for a gripping yarn crammed with more twists than so many standard narrative dramas. 

It's also a deeply and fascinatingly vulnerable exercise. Tan lets viewers into behind-the-scenes footage of not just that initial 90s shoot but also childhood drawings that really allow viewers to understand this woman's deepest intricacies. A similarly nuanced approach also extends to the mysterious Cardona, whose larger impact on other people is explored throughout the documentary. This whole production is a transfixing and insightful exercise, fascinatingly bridging the past and present in Tan's life. Tragically, in the years since its debut, it feels like the project has slipped through the cracks in terms of its larger cultural reputation.

A proper home video release could help rectify that issue, even just by reminding the wider world that this outstanding (and award-winning) documentary exists. After all, if "Shirkers" teaches viewers anything, it's that movies shouldn't be hidden away from the public. 

Despite being one of the greatest and most esteemed filmmakers of the last four decades, Spike Lee's movies have often had trouble getting proper home video releases. 1995's "Get on the Bus," for instance, is still without a Blu-Ray release. "25th Hour" and "He Got Game," meanwhile, are only available on Blu-Ray via a rare two-movie pack that combined these features into one collection. As of this writing, there are also no plans for his 2025 Apple TV+/A24 project "Highest 2 Lowest" to receive a physical media release. Right alongside these baffling omissions in the realm of home video is "Da 5 Bloods," Lee's 2020 Netflix movie that starred Delroy Lindo, Clarke Peters, Norm Lewis, and Isiah Whitlock Jr. as Vietnam War veterans who return to the country in search of treasure — and the body of "Stormin" Norman Earl Holloway (Chadwick Boseman).

Under any circumstances, a movie as excellent as "Da 5 Bloods" should receive a lavish home video release, complete with bonus materials providing vivid insight into Lee's creative process on this project. However, post-release tragedies have made this feature extra precious. Boseman passed away two months after "Da 5 Bloods" hit Netflix, while Whitlock Jr. passed away in 2025's final days. 

"Da 5 Bloods" vividly displays both actors' immense creative talents. Putting this motion picture on physical media would give even more people a chance to savor their accomplishments here. Plus, the more Spike Lee directorial efforts given home video releases, the better the cinematic landscape will be.

When every "Knives Out" movie is ranked from worst to best, "Glass Onion" might inevitably come out at the lowest position of that ranking. That's no slight against this sequel, though. While the other two Benoit Blanc adventures are just a bit more excellent, this 2022 installment is still a riot loaded with juicy twists and an outstanding dual performance from Janelle Monae. In the context of this larger trilogy, "Glass Onion" also registers as an impressive feat in how its story structure, sunny visuals, and gags feel so different from "Knives Out" and "Wake Up Dead Man." Writer/director Rian Johnson didn't rest on his laurels here, and the result is a dynamite motion picture.

While "Glass Onion" is consistent with the immense artistry of a typical Rian Johnson directorial effort, it hasn't received the physical media release his other pre-2022 films have secured. That's a tragedy, since Johnson's works have often featured such extraordinary bonus material. Just look at "Star Wars: The Last Jedi," which came loaded with the in-depth and thoughtful documentary "The Director & The Jedi." This feature alone, more substantive than usual for a Blu-Ray extra, justified picking up the terrific "The Last Jedi" on home video. 

The mind reels at what kind of fun and creative goodies "Glass Onion" could have on a possible physical media release. You don't have to be a sleuth on par with Benoit Blanc to realize "Glass Onion" desperately needs to come to Blu-Ray.

In the 1990s, screenwriters Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski spun an endearing yarn about B-movie maestro Ed Wood that got audiences rooting for the man's rickety cinematic operations. In October 2019, the duo once again penned a script uncovering heartwarming delights in low-budget, imperfect cinema with "Dolemite Is My Name." This feature starred Eddie Murphy as Rudy Ray Moore, whose unique and kooky vision for cinema eventually materialized through the character Dolemite. His ambitions may be unconventional, but Moore has charisma and passion to spare. Thus, he and his cohorts, including Lady Reed (Da'Vine Joy Randolph), set off to make movies as the world has never seen.

"Dolemite Is My Name" is a joyful tribute to the act of artistic creation. Alexander, Karaszewski, and director Craig Brewer infuse this recounting of Moore's life with such infectious glee over putting on a show that it's impossible not to get wrapped up in the proceedings. Eddie Murphy's riveting lead performance, not to mention a barrage of memorable supporting turns (particularly Wesley Snipes's work as director D'Urville Martin) ensure "Dolemite Is My Name" is peak crowdpleaser cinema. 

This title's quality alone should guarantee it a home video release. However, it's also worthy of such treatment given how many inferior Eddie Murphy star vehicles are readily available on DVD and Blu-Ray. If "Meet Dave" and "A Thousand Words" can reach home media, it's inarguable that "Dolemite Is My Name" should join them on store shelves.

When you're right, you're right. Our ranking of every Blumhouse movie from worst to best rightfully highlighted one of the label's greatest motion pictures, even if it slipped right under most people's radar. 2018's "Cam" hails from director Daniel Goldhaber and screenwriter Isa Mazzei, and it follows camgirl Alice Ackerman (Madeline Brewer). Specifically, it chronicles her discovering that her identity's been stolen on the internet by somebody going under the moniker "Lola." What follows is a chilling thriller building much of its tension on the real-world stigmas surrounding sex workers, not to mention good old-fashioned visual imagination courtesy of Goldhaber and cinematographer Katelin Arizmendi.

The proceedings also get a lot of mileage out of Brewer's unforgettable lead performance, which draws viewers in from the very first scene and never lets go. There's so much to be impressed by in "Cam," including executing such a polished aesthetic out of a $1 million budget. Unfortunately, "Cam's" never had a chance to really grow its fanbase since it's been stuck on Netflix for years. To add insult to injury, Netflix quietly removed the film from the platform in November 2025. As of this writing, "Cam" is technically lost media, as it's not accessible anywhere. 

A perfect way to combat that horrific reality would be to simply put "Cam" on home video. With dehumanization still plaguing the sex worker community in the modern world, deeply compelling art humanizing members of this domain like "Cam" should be made extra accessible, not scrubbed from the Earth. 

Among the best movies of 2020 was a documentary firmly focused on the early 1970s. This is a central point of concentration for "Crip Camp: A Disability Revolution," as it's when so many of its central subjects first encountered each other at Camp Jened, a domicile exclusively for disabled souls. Director James LeBrecht recounts to viewers his own joys of attending this place and finding camaraderie with other disabled people. The larger world so often infantilizes and dehumanizes disabled individuals, whereas everyone at Camp Jened saw each other as just other human beings. They could be messy, multi-faceted, vulnerable, ridiculous, or any other emotion under the sun.

LeBrecht and Nicole Newnham's filmmaking is already plenty moving as a cinematic testament to the importance of Camp Jened bond. However, "Crip Camp's" scope gradually expands to also include depictions of LeBrecht and the other Camp Jened veterans eventually engaging in activism for disability rights. This includes riveting anecdotes and archival footage recounting an extended sit-in protest that ended up drawing support from local lesbians and a Black Panther chapter. The way "Crip Camp" unfurls its larger scope is one of its many impressive accomplishments. 

Richly human and wielding a fiery, rebellious soul, this production is nothing short of extraordinary. Just based on artistry alone, "Crip Camp: A Disability Revolution" is essential for bringing to physical media. Cinema this excellent should not be confined to just one streaming platform.

In the olden times, people often discovered beloved action films by accident. You would be traipsing through the shelves of your local video store only to stumble upon a worn VHS copy of "Commando",  or maybe one of John Woo's many masterpieces. Examining the cover art on the front and the ad copy on the back were enough to convince you to pop it in your VCR, thanks to the promise of lots of explosions and more than a little fisticuffs. After that, a movie you had never heard of was seared into your brain. What a joy, finding a crowdpleaser feature nestled in the shadows. That experience is harder to replicate on platforms like Netflix, driven as they are by algorithms designed to give you more of what you already like rather than emphasizing treasures previously off your radar.

If there were physical media copies of Jeremy Saulnier's excellent 2024 film "Rebel Ridge" scattered across the world, then this Aaron Pierre star vehicle could keep that tradition alive. This thriller makes many classic 80s and 90s action films proud with its tightly wound, suspense-driven set pieces and Pierre's commanding presence. "Rebel Ridge" delivers on the surface-level pleasures of its cinematic brethren while also ensuring that the polished editing and camerawork of prior Saulnier movies (such as "Green Room") are fully intact. 

In every conceivable way, "Rebel Ridge" is a tremendous winner. This isn't the kind of film that should exist solely on Netflix's servers. It needs a DVD or Blu-Ray release that future generations of movie nerds can accidentally encounter, thus forming their own seminal cinema-based memories of discovery.

The film adaptation of ND Stevenson's graphic novel "Nimona" was an epic story in its own right. The film was originally set up at Blue Sky Studios and later canned by Disney once the Mouse House shut down that animation label. For the longest time it looked like this project would join a bevy of DreamWorks Animation movies we'll never get to see in the pantheon of high-profile, unreleased animated fare. However, Annapurna Animation eventually saved this project, and Netflix gave it a home. Released in June 2023, "Nimona" was finally available to the broader public and eventually scored an Oscar nomination after all its behind-the-scenes turmoil.

While its viewership on the platform was solid, "Nimona" certainly didn't take off as much as other family-friendly Netflix films (namely "KPop Demon Hunters"). A physical media release would certainly go a long way to further bolster its fanbase. After all, family movies have been cultivating an expanded reputation via home video for decades. Just look at how "Finding Nemo" became the best-selling DVD of all time in 2003. "Nimona" could thrive in this field. Plus, it would be tremendously important to get a story about self-acceptance and defying society's definition of "a monster" out to the masses in as many forms as possible, both virtually and in physical media.

The very existence of "Nimona" on Netflix is a miracle given everything this production endured. Bestowing upon it a proper Blu-Ray release would be a delightful cherry-on-top ending for this motion picture's fascinating saga.