Yeah, you know what Netflix cheating is already. A sneaky episode when you’ve got an afternoon off work, and then feigning laughs and interest when you ‘watch’ with your partner later that evening. Then you can’t sleep – BECAUSE OF THE GUILT! – in the night. You get up, pick up the console and oops, that’s three episodes now! After that it’s all downhill. Three days later you’ve finished the season, but you’ve still got to re-watch it all with your poor betrayed, unsuspecting OH…
Yeah. sob. What about the other side of the coin, though? When a show doesn’t irresistibly draw you in like a magnet. When you couldn’t give a toss about it. When you wouldn’t be watching it in the first place if your partner hadn’t coaxed you into it with promises that ‘yeah, the first ep’s a bit slow, but they say it reeally gets going later!’
And five nights and ten eps later, they’re still having to coax. and pout. while you cling to the computer screen, spend an hour and a half in the bath, and then twenty minutes pouring wine and putting snacks in bowls in the kitchen. Until they finally frogmarch you to the sofa, for another evening of Netflixed bliss, watching paint dry for two hours, hand in hand…
(not literally watching paint dry, right? they got rid of the screen saver Fireplace For Your Home shows, didn’t they?)
Just kidding anyway. Travellers isn’t that bad.
I don’t have very high standards for what I’ll watch on Netflix in the last hour or so before I toddle off to bed. Really anything that’ll quiet my mind and lull me pleasantly with a few laughs or a little light romance is fine. So this fit the bill perfectly the other night, I thought: what looked to be a subpar 2006 romcom featuring Jennifer Garner and Timothy Olyphant.
I selected ‘play’, settled back and prepared to zone out. And it was…
Good. Quite good. I don’t mean to sound amazed. Jennifer Garner has been in good films before. But it was… funny. And the setup was dark as heck, and there was a lot more comedy involved than romance. Even though TO and JG were hot as hell together.
Timothy Olyphant, though. Can we talk about Timothy Olyphant? I had to check how old he was in this on IMDB, because I couldn’t believe the evidence of my eyes.
38. He was thirty-fucking-eight. 48 now, 38 then.
He could have been playing 23, for God’s sake. I didn’t look that well at 18, never mind thirty-fucking-eight. (eta: and in a Dead Kennedys tshirt, too! TO is just unfair to… the rest of us. How are we supposed to compete?)
The complete barsteward. Genes are an absolute swizzle.
Apart from that grizzling aside, the rest of the cast were also aces, especially Juliette Lewis and Kevin Smith. Well worth the price of… well, the price of the popcorn you smuggle into your own living-room, I suppose. Bargain, esp. with all the sensitive vulnerable manpain on display. Jennifer Garner’s finest moment since 13 Going On 30, and I do not say that lightly.
Netflix, I demand that you bring back the star ratings system immediately! Even before it’s gone! Thumbs up/down, forsooth. BRING BACK THE STARS! Where is the refinement, the spectrum, the shades of grey and subtleties in that?
I agonized over four versus five stars for Twelve Monkeys, agonized, I tell you. Every star counts.
* e.e. cummings.