Netflix’s Rapey Porn Franchise ‘365 Days’ Is Back With a Lame, Wildly Popular Sequel

This is a preview of our pop culture newsletter The Daily Beast’s Obsessed, written by senior entertainment reporter Kevin Fallon. To receive the full newsletter in your inbox each week, sign up for it here.

This week:

• Guys, Lea Michele is really talented.
• The porny Netflix phenomenon with the bad sex scenes.
• I can’t get over this Olivia Wilde stuff.
• It’s the year 2000 again and I won’t stop talking about Real World: New Orleans.
• The cinematic event of the year.

That Porny Netflix Movie Isn’t Even That Sexy

In 2020, an erotic thriller called 365 Days, which was known in shorthand as “Polish Fifty Shades of Grey,” mounted the top of the Netflix list of Top 10 movies, a position it rode for weeks.

The trashy, laughably acted soap was ruled one of the worst films of the year, in spite of its popularity. But the film wasn’t just considered bad. It was so problematic that advocacy groups spoke out about it and there was a movement to have it removed from the streaming service.

Naturally, the film got a sequel instead.

365 Days: This Day premiered this week and is already back at No. 1. I can’t say I’m surprised. Just disappointed.

The truth is, there was a part of me that looked forward to watching the sequel. I knew it was going to be bad. But I was going to spend an afternoon of work watching what amounts to softcore porn. Wasn’t too mad about that.

Plus, the instinct to shame this genre of content has always been bothersome, whether we’re talking about the people who bashfully enjoyed Fifty Shades of Grey or those who are earnestly invested in this kind of content—though 365 Days: This Day boasts the loosest and most ridiculous interpretation of the word “plot” I have witnessed in a long time, all in the name of stringing together a slew of love scenes and montages of sexy people brooding.

But it’s a film franchise that is neither cheeky nor serious enough to be escapist. Or indulgent. Or a gratifying viewing experience for someone who treats this genre with the kind of sincerity and passion that we’ve been conditioned to mock or lampoon. It’s not even that hot.

There’s nothing wrong with craving sexy TV. The cult fandom for Outlander proves that. The copious screenshots of steamy scenes from Netflix’s Élite all over my social media feed bolster that argument. There have been numerous manifestos bemoaning the dialed-back horniness of the recent season of Bridgerton. Our most deeply held political position is that television needs more butts.

It’s the sex in the 365 Days franchise that made it famous. The first film went viral on TikTok when people would film themselves watching the blush-inducing scenes. You used to have to stay up until the middle of the night and sneak down to the basement TV to watch the scrambled Cinemax feed from your cable box to see the kind of softcore porn that is now being put on Netflix alongside Schitt’s Creek and Fuller House. Kids these days have it so easy.

Maybe we’re all just desensitized now, but in 365 Days: This Day, not even that aspect is titillating. The sex scenes are all set to hilariously dramatic music. Most of them take place in dark shadows. Confusingly, in a majority of them, the leads remain fully, or at least mostly, clothed. (#MoreButts2022!) They’re all hideously shot, which is par for the course. But still, it’s hard to continue to justify the appeal.

Then there’s the plot, the part where the problematic aspect comes in. The first film centered on a handsome member of a Mafia family who kidnaps a beautiful girl, and, in an illustration of Stockholm syndrome or arguable rape and coercion, ties her up and seduces her until she eventually gives into his desires for kinky, rough sex. (Consent is a loose concept here.)

It’s understandable that so many people were appalled by the popularity of the movie given that horrifying storyline. In the new sequel, they get married (WTF?). He still treats her like shit. She still delivers rough sex anyway. Then there’s a hot gardener, a secret twin, and a bounty hunt, with some bondage mixed in.

It’s bad! So bad! And, now, the most popular movie on Netflix.

I Can’t Believe How Olivia Wilde Reacted!

This week, Olivia Wilde was at the CinemaCon convention, an annual Hollywood event where stars and big directors preview their upcoming movies for theater owners in order to get them excited to play their films. She was there to present Don’t Worry Darling, the upcoming steamy relationship drama she directed starring Harry Styles and Florence Pugh, which already has Styles' fan army heading for cold showers.

She looked beautiful in a blue velvet pantsuit and was clearly excited. Partway through her introduction, a man walked up to the stage and dropped off a manila envelope. It was labeled “personal and confidential.”

“This is for me?” she asked. “Is this a script?” She opened the envelope. It wasn’t an unsolicited script, which would have been highly inappropriate in its own right. It was custody papers from the legal team of her ex, Jason Sudeikis.

At this point, Wilde threw the papers to the ground. She stared out at the convention audience, a gaze ominously blank yet all-encompassing, as if to summon the entire lifeforce of the room. She gestured one hand to the rear doors of the hall, which immediately flung shut. The other, she circled over her head, creating a maelstrom of flames that eventually engulfed the curtain of the stage. At this point, her eyes were bleeding.

Sporadically, random members of the audience began flying up into the rafters, screaming in fear. As the chaos erupted, Wilde unleashed a piercing wail, a lacerating sonic boom that reverberated across the globe. Children are still crying. Dogs can no longer hear.

I’m just kidding, obviously. Wilde quickly looked at the papers and, supposedly, realized what they were. Without missing a beat, she continued her presentation. It was an astonishing act of composure and grace in a situation in which, as detailed above, the best among us would have reacted with supernatural rage.

A “source” close to Sudeikis reported that he had no idea that the papers would be served in such an outrageous manner. I still can’t get over it.

I Won’t Stop Talking About Real World Homecoming

The Real World Homecoming: New Orleans is my religious text. It is what I live each week for. It is my oxygen in a world where it feels like I’m drowning.

You wouldn’t think there would be much to the idea of reuniting a reality series’ cast two decades later. But the way the cast is able to both process their experience with emotional intelligence while still being so raw is fascinating, especially with perfect specimen and reluctant gay icon Danny, TV’s most transfixing nightmare Julie, and relentless enigma Tokyo aka David back together.

But I forgot just how much Melissa is a star, and please forgive me for that, my queen. She is a spark plug. She is wise. She is a font of hilarity and strength, with such an ease on camera. Two episodes of this season have aired thus far, and I am left with only the conclusion that if Melissa is not given a talk show when this is over then I’m not sure why television even exists.

Next Year’s Oscars Is Calling

Oh honey, the movie about a group of octogenarian football fans attempting to make good on their dream of traveling to the Super Bowl to meet Tom Brady that stars Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, Sally Field, Rita Moreno, and Tom Brady himself is real, and I write about it in my diary every day.

What to watch this week:

Heartstopper: I can’t think of a better time for such a sweet, loving story about teenagers coming out and falling in love. (Now on Netflix)

I Love That For You: Molly Shannon, Jenifer Lewis, and Vanessa Bayer are in a comedy together set at QVC. I love that for me. And, sure, also you. (Sun. on Showtime)

Grace and Frankie: It’s the final episodes, and I’m not hyperbolic when I say that, in the last decade, I’m not sure I’ve treasured a series more. (Fri. on Netflix)

Girls5eva: A series that is far funnier than it has any right to be. (Thurs. on Peacock)

What to skip this week:

Memory: Someone make a movie that lets Liam Neeson smile! (Fri. in theaters)

The Circle: Just because The Ultimatum was also bad, we shouldn’t forget that this is, too. (Wed. on Netflix)