Netflix’s 365 Days of Nope

If you’ve recently logged into your Netflix account, chances are you’ve most likely seen the poster for 365 DNI/365 Days. In fact, it’s practically shoved in your face:

Looking for a new release? Boom, it’s the first to appear. In the mood to watch Netflix’s Top Ten? You’re in luck – it’s number one. What about a “romantic” film for a quarantine night-in? Um, sure. Perhaps you want to watch a foreign film, specifically from Poland? Like that guy’s hands, Netflix has you covered. I’m pretty sure the “365” in the title are all the ways Netflix has this movie categorized.

Bottom line, the streaming service wants you to watch this film. Here’s my bottom line, Netflix: NO. 

Based on the novel that you’ve probably never heard of, the film – with it’s graphic sex scenes – is being touted by fans as “making Fifty Shades look PG,” which is pretty much reason enough to never see it. The one sentence description gives further reason to stay far away from 365 Days:

“A fiery executive in a spiritless relationship falls victim to a dominant mafia boss, who imprisons her and gives her one year to fall in love with him.”

What in the problematic dumpster fire is that? How is this romantic? How does this premise even exist in 2020? It reads more cringeworthy if you break it down, which I’m about to do:

“A fiery executive in a spiritless relationship…”

Off the bat, you’ve pretty much described every single Hallmark Christmas movie heroine. Only in this movie, she isn’t returning to her hometown to save Christmas and fall in love with the single veterinarian/carpenter/ex hockey star turned local hockey coach. I’d much prefer that.

On a separate note, can we please cancel the word “fiery” when describing women in the workplace? When was the last time you heard Apple CEO Tim Cook describe as “fiery” after presenting the newest iPhone? Of course, I’m asking this of a film that was described as the newest Fifty Shades, so I guess I’m asking too much.

“…falls victim to a dominant mafia boss…”

I’ve followed true-crime podcasts that start the same way.

Our “fiery executive,” who I’m sure we’re supposed to believe is a strong-minded, independent woman, is reduced to the status of victim. As for the perpetrator? A mafia boss, so cue up those Italian stereotypes that I, as an Italian-American woman, absolutely adore: sipping espresso, eating spaghetti, orchestrating murders all while holding a rosary.

“…who imprisons her…”

Netflix, we need to have a chat.

When you “imprison” someone, that is neither love nor romance. It is abuse and false imprisonment, which is a crime. The word, “imprison,” conveys that she is not there by her choice and that if she attempts to leave on her own accord, there will be a punishment.

I think I speak for millions of women when I say that I don’t care if your captor has a six-pack, there is nothing hot about an abusive, manipulative asshole.

“…and gives her one year to fall in love with him.”

So, boy meets girl. Boy kidnaps girl. Boy forces girl to fall in love with him within 12 months, and I’m sure his methods of seduction don’t include long walks on the beach and stimulating conversations about gender equality and female empowerment. Nice to see that 365 Days decided to use the Stockholm Syndrome trope that today’s less problematic and abusive romantic movies seem to lack.

Like the upcoming adaptation of EL James’s The Mister, 365 Days is nothing more than misogynistic, megalomaniacal bullshit wrapped in romantic tropes’ clothing. Abuse and trauma are not romantic devices. As women, we all deserve better and healthier love stories.

So Netflix, I’ll be declining your invitations to watch 365 Days because even in this quarantine, I have better things to do with my time and energy.

Need better Netflix recommendations? We’ve got you covered here.