Ozarkended three years ago, but its shadow still looms over modern crime TV. The show carved out a ruthless niche, one built on collapsing morality, crumbling families, and an escalating war between survival and conscience. Since then, fans have been desperate for something that delivers the same cutthroat drama brought to us byOzark’s incredible characters.
These crime shows aren’t carbon copies, but they scratch the same itch —criminal ecosystems, high-stakes consequences, and characters who can’t stop digging themselves deeper. If you still miss the Byrdes, these are your next binges.
Queen of the Southdoesn’t waste time. From the first episode, Teresa Mendoza is already running. What begins as an escape from cartel violence becomesa ruthless rise to power that mirrorsOzark’s chessboard dynamics. It’s not subtle, but it is addictive.
Queen of the Southis available to watch on Netflix.
WhereOzarkgave us quiet dread,Queen of the Southdoubles down on adrenaline. Teresa’s journey is driven by loyalty, betrayal, and the calculated moves needed to survive cartel politics. Like Wendy Byrde, she learns that power costs more than anyone tells you.
What distinguishesQueen of the Southis its commitment to showing every betrayal in motion — howdecisions ripple outward and force new alliances. The supporting cast also brings complexity, especially James, whose presence mirrors Marty Byrde’s cold logic.
BeforeOzarkbrought antiheroes back to the mainstream,The Shieldwas already tearing them apart. Michael Chiklis’s Vic Mackey isn’t trying to protect his family; he’s trying to protect his crew, his reputation, and his own warped sense of justice.
Every time Vic tries to clean up one mess, he makes three more.
The Shieldexplores the line between corruption and necessity, and it gets messier every season. The Strike Team’s operations spin further out of control, echoing the Byrdes’ descent into criminal chaos. Every time Vic tries to clean up one mess, he makes three more. That narrative churn — of good intentions gone sour — makesThe Shieldas gutting as anythingOzarkever aired.
What elevates the series is how early it started the prestige crime movement on cable TV.Its gritty realism and slow unraveling of morality laid the groundworkforthe best crime shows. And much like Marty, Vic becomes a man who justifies everything in the name of control.
Ozarkfans who loved the cartel angle will find plenty to binge inNarcos. Based on real events, the show chronicles the rise and fall of Pablo Escobar, then shifts focus to the Cali cartel and the DEA agents trying to take them down.
What setsNarcosapart is how clinical it feels. This is business, not melodrama. But the storytelling never loses tension, and the characters, on both sides of the law, are compelling. Its documentary-style narration heightens the realism, whileits unflinching violence underscores how chaotic and impersonal this world can be.
LikeOzark,Narcosshows what happens when the money becomes more important than the people. And while Escobar’s charisma draws you in, it’s the fallout — the deaths, betrayals, and collapsed lives — that echoes Ozark’s tragedy.
If the Byrdes had been bootleggers in post-war Birmingham, they might have looked like the Shelbys.Peaky Blindersis historical crime elevated to operatic levels. Thomas Shelby isn’t a money launderer. Rather, he’s a war hero turned gangster turned politician, and he’ll sacrifice anything to keep his empire intact.
Every season is a slow build of deals, betrayals, and narrow escapes. The violence is stylish, the politics are brutal, and the family dynamic is always on the verge of collapse. LikeOzark,Peaky Blindersunderstands that no criminal victory comes without emotional fallout.
TheShelby family treeis complex, and Thomas' relationship with his siblings echoes the power dynamics between Marty, Wendy, and their children. And by the time ambition outpaces reason,everything feels like a fuse waiting to ignite. It’s prestige crime, knives sharpened and all.
El Chapotells the true story behind one of Mexico’s most infamous drug lords, and it doesn’t flinch. WhileNarcosleans into Escobar’s mythology,El Chapostrips everything bare, presenting the character asa cunning opportunist navigating an ecosystem built on corruption.
Months before his capture,Mystic RiveractorSean Penn interviewed El ChapoforRolling Stonein 2016. However, the crime lord retained creative control over the final publication, leading to what Penn considered a “failure.”
This one’s a slow burn, but it pays off. The political alliances, betrayals, and constant power grabs feel eerily familiar. El Chapo isn’t portrayed as a mastermind so much as a survivor. LikeOzark,it shows what happens when you start seeing people as assets— and how fast that mindset consumes everything.
The show also highlights the intersection of politics, law enforcement, and organized crime, another themeOzarkused to devastating effect.Chapo’s rise is about more than just the drugs— it’s about power in a broken system.
There’s no escaping the influence.Ozarkowes a clear debt toBreaking Bad— the show that turned moral collapse into high art. Walter White’s journey from chemistry teacher to drug kingpin set the stage for every prestige crime drama that followed.
But even if you’ve seen it before,Breaking Badis worth revisiting through anOzarklens. The financial desperation, the family secrecy, the way small lies become big crimes — it all feels even sharper now. And unlikeOzark’s divisive ending, it sticks the landing perfectly.
More importantly,it paved the road for characters like Wendy Byrde, who would’ve been unthinkable without Skyler White. Both women are often misunderstood, vilified, and underestimated. And both redefine the power dynamics of their marriages in ways that leave viewers uncomfortable.
Gomorrahis brutal. This Italian series doesn’t offer antihero catharsis or dramatic arcs. Instead, it immerses viewers in the day-to-day operations of the Camorra mafia, showing just how disposable loyalty can be.
If you liked howOzarkmade every decision feel like a trap,Gomorrahdoubles down.
It’s a cold, precise portrait of organized crimethat strips away glamour and sentiment. Characters die often, deals unravel fast, and power changes hands like currency. If you liked howOzarkmade every decision feel like a trap,Gomorrahdoubles down. There’s no redemption here — just survival.
And that’s what makes it powerful. There’s no Marty Byrde figure offering strategic genius or audience empathy. Everyone inGomorrahis compromised, andthat moral flatness turns every episode into a grim game of attrition.
Ozark’s strength was always in how crime infected every corner of the Byrde household.Animal Kingdomtakes that premise and builds an entire series around it. The Cody family is a Southern California crew of thieves, and every heist pulls them further apart.
It’s fast-paced, visually rich, and always simmering with generational resentment. Smurf, the family matriarch, could go head-to-head with Wendy Byrde any day.Animal Kingdomis most effective when showing how crime becomes a tradition— passed down with love, anger, and fear.
It’s also one of the few shows that understands thatemotional abuse can be just as corrosive as physical danger. That tension — between love and control — is what gives the show its sting. And likeOzark,Animal Kingdomexplores what happens when family loyalty becomes the most dangerous thing you have.
IfOzarkhad saltwater and shrimp boats, it would look a lot likeThe Waterfront. This 2025 Netflix originalfollows the Buckley family, coastal business owners turned reluctant smugglers, after a medical emergency forces their hand. What begins as necessity spirals into cartel entanglement, local corruption, and buried secrets.
Kevin Williamson is the mastermind behind slasher classicsScreamandI Know What You Did Last Summer. He also created the WB’sDawson’s Creekand the CW sensation,The Vampire Diaries.
Created by Kevin Williamson (Scream),The Waterfrontis a true story inspired by Williamson’s father’s real-life past. The show has emotional roots and narrative precision, with Holt McCallany and Maria Bello leading a stellar ensemble, and the show’s Southern Gothic undertones giving it a brooding intensity.
It’s a crime family saga built on bad decisions, generational fractures, and coastal noir moodiness.The Waterfrontexcels at showing the ripple effects of one bad choice and how a family’s legacy can become their greatest burden. Its characters, especiallyHarlan and Caitlyn, are navigating not just danger, but shame, inheritance, and grief.
Snowfallnever got the attention it deserved. Created by the late John Singleton (Boyz n the Hood), it charts the rise of the crack cocaine epidemic in 1980s Los Angeles. At the center is Franklin Saint: smart, ambitious, and increasingly compromised.
Much likeOzark,Snowfallshows the mechanics of criminal enterprise, but with a sharper eye for systemic rot. The stakes are personal, even generational. Franklin’s rise feels earned, but so does his fall. And as his empire grows, so does the collateral damage.
The show also dares to ask whether survival is enough. Franklin is brilliant and resourceful, but his choices hollow him out. By the final season, the cost feels unbearable. It’sOzarkwith a wider scope, and just as much bite.
