September's New (and Temporary) Arrivals

Stallone. Stone. Boom.

Considering that many of Netflix's September arrivals are returning titles from the 1990s and 2000s (how many times have we seen Big Fish, Hitch, and Days of Thunder come and go?)—and many of those are part of the expiring Epix deal—it's hard to be too impressed. But at least it means the return of inspired zombie comedy Fido, along with Christopher Nolan's excellent (and too often dismissed) Insomnia. I'm also happy to see Robert Altman's Popeye back (even briefly), and am looking forward to checking out the depraved weirdness that should be Larry Clark's latest film, Marfa Girl. Also worth a mention: Paul Schrader's Lindsey Lohan disaster, The Canyons, scheduled to appear in all its controversial glory on September 26th.

For classic film fans there's 1975's controversial-for-its-time Mandingo, not to mention the restored version of David Lean's 1962 Lawrence of Arabia, which is as classic as "classic" gets. Not a bad month for family films, meanwhile, with the arrival of Jon Favreau's Zathura, Robert Rodriquez's The Adventures of Sharkboy & Lavagirl, last year's reboot of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Volume 1 of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood. Oh, and if you're a Star Trek or William Shatner fan, be sure to check out his Captains docs, which are surprisingly enjoyable (reviewed here). Other standout titles are listed in bold (and yes, that includes guilty pleasure The Specialist—so sue me).

As I said, many of these titles fall under the Epix contract, which means they're due to expire at the end of the month. Any you don't get to, however, are already on Amazon Prime, and all are expected to appear in October on the increasingly formidable Hulu—which today announced its new ad-free tier. To paraphrase a famous movie character: Now that's an offer I won't refuse!

2014: A Year in Review

It was an eventful year both on Netflix and here at What's On NETFLIX Now?, with lots of choice movies coming and going (many of them more than once). For less thorough readers and those who only discovered this blog in recent months, I thought it would be fun to recount some of 2014's highlights, not only to give an idea of what you missed but to show what's still available to explore—both on Netflix and on the backpages of this site. I'll also try to provide some insight into what's ahead in 2015 (depressing though it may seem)...

Altman's 3 Women

JANUARY 2014 saw an impressive influx of new titles following a pretty dismal December, including rarities like Robert Altman's 3 Women and indispensable classics like Billy Wilder's Some Like It Hot and The Apartment—both of which have unfortunately expired (though I'm happy to report the latter is set to return in January 2015). Standalone reviews covered an obscure, oddly charming 1972 comedy, The Public Eye, from director Carol Reed, and Megan Griffith's effective, low-key thriller, Abduction of Eden, loosely based on the true story of a woman kidnapped into a human trafficking ring.

FEBRUARY marked the site's first significant bump in readership thanks to a highly ranked post on Reddit, with monthly hits more than tripling. This prompted a look back on the blog's philosophy and some of what had come before (a post I may need to revisit myself, since I feel I may be wandering a bit from my original purpose). The month was also notable for an influx of excellent 1970s flicks, four of which received short reviews, although three of those later expired—as is so often the case on Netflix these days. Another film, 1974's Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry, merited its own full review, mostly because I've always had a soft spot for car chase movies of the early 1970s. February also saw the passing of writer/director Harold Ramis, a true mensch of 1980s and '90s comedy, along with the loss of a number of notable French films, including two starring French heartthrobs Alain Delon and Jean-Paul Belmondo. One of those, 1962's A Woman Is a Woman, represented Jean-Luc Godard's lone entry on Netflix.

New in November: Tough to Choose

A lot of good stuff this month. A lot. Which is why it's taken me longer than usual to sort through it all and decide which titles to write about. Let's start with something easy:

TV

It's hard not to be happy at new seasons of Portlandia, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, and (hooray) Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (a series I reviewed earlier this year). Also The Bletchley Circle, which I hear good things about but haven't seen. Making its Netflix debut (on the 10th) is the first season of the sci-fi thriller Helix, which was executive produced by Battlestar Galactica's Ronald D. Moore and should be worth a look or two. If you're more in the mood for science than science fiction, there's the debut of the three-part Your Inner Fish (2014), an entertaining and—to some—provocative look into what we were before we became the sophisticated movie-watching bipeds of today.

Classics

A fairly idiosyncratic mix of pre-1980 movies are on hand, starting with 1962's Hell Is for Heroes, an acclaimed WWII actioner directed by scrappy Don Siegel and starring Steve McQueen and James Coburn. If those two stars aren't steely-eyed enough for you, check out Charles Bronson in Breakheart Pass (1975), a rough-and-tumble western that also features tough guys Ben Johnson and Richard Crenna.

O'Toole, Hepburn

Distinctly less action-heavy is Cleopatra (1963), which, if never exactly considered a good movie, its notoriety makes it a genuine curiosity for a) Dick and Liz fans, b) Joe Mankiewicz fans (he did All About Eve and A Letter to Three Wives), c) fans of historical epics, and d) those who are physically capable of sitting in front of their screens for 4 hours.

But no need to torture yourself—not when you can treat yourself to something bubbly like 1966's How to Steal a Million, a romantic heist comedy directed by William Wyler (Roman Holiday) that features Peter O'Toole and Audrey Hepburn alternately wooing and outwitting each other. Or maybe you're still feeling Halloweeny, in which case you might try laughing yourself scared with The Crimson Cult, a 1968 B-horror movie by way of Brit stalwarts Boris Karloff, Christopher Lee, and Barbara Steele in green (or is it blue?) body paint. And then there's something that tries just a bit harder...

August Expiration Watch: Cleaning House

It looks like a number of three- and six-month contracts are up this month, with Robert Altman and two recently deceased stars suffering the worst of it. Say farewell to Phillip Seymour Hoffman's Oscar-winning performance in Capote (2005), which returned in March, as well as two very different sides of Robin Williams, in Popeye (1980) and The Fisher King (1991). The former was directed by Altman, who is about to see his impressive catalog of streaming titles reduced by nine—amounting to wholesale cinecide. That means that, along with Popeye, this will be your last chance to check out That Cold Day in the Park (1969) and Fool for Love (1985), both of which debuted in June, plus the five titles that arrived with such a splash back in March.

Among expiring classics there's Howard Hawks' El Dorado (1966), a June arrival that's already being put out to pasture (for shame, Netflix), plus a pair from that master of sarcastic wit, Billy Wilder, whose streaming oeuvre will now be minus The Seven Year Itch (1955), starring Marilyn Monroe (sporting her iconic white dress), and The Apartment (1960), with Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine setting the standard for adult romantic comedies.

Matthau as Varrick

1970s action flicks are also taking a hit, with the pending expiration of two recent Pam Grier entries, Black Mama, White Mama (1972) and Bucktown (1975), as well as the Clint Eastwood mountain-climbing thriller, The Eiger Sanction (1975). But the real '70s gem may be Charley Varrick (1973), starring Walter Matthau and directed by Don Siegel, the tough-as-nails director who also gave us Invasion of the Body Snatchers, The Gun Runners, and Dirty Harry, among others. Matthau is at his unflappable, efficient best as a bank robber who finds himself in possession of mob money and being tracked by a cold-as-ice killer, played by a scary Joe Don Baker. Gritty and merciless, this one was an early influence on Quentin Tarantino (who apparently cribbed a line of dialogue for Pulp Fiction). Keep an eye out for Sheree North, as a wised-up photographer, and Felicia Farr, a.k.a. Mrs. Jack Lemmon, as a mobster's mistress. As far as I'm concerned, Farr didn't make nearly enough movies after Billy Wilder's great Kiss Me, Stupid (no longer streaming, but reviewed here). The only thing I had trouble buying: Matthau as heartthrob. Or maybe I'm missing something?

The Good Samaritan

There was a period in the late 1990s when Robin Williams seemed to be making one bad, sappy movie after another. This was between his Oscar-winning turn in 1997's Good Will Hunting and his embrace of darker roles in 2002's Insomnia and One Hour Photo. As a longtime fan I was particularly disappointed to see him in such schmaltz as Patch Adams, Jakob the Liar, and Bicentennial Man. He seemed to be creatively out of gas and working, if not strictly for the paycheck, then from some karmic desire to bring good into the world via syrupy comedy-melodramas. My respect for him—as both actor and comedian—was precipitously low. And I know I wasn't alone.

But in early spring of 2000, while living on New York's Upper West Side, something unusual happened. Faced with two winter-deflated tires on my Raleigh M-20, I walked the bicycle to a shop on Columbus and 81st in search of air. But when I arrived, the store was closed, its final customer being escorted to the door. He was a stocky, muscular man with grayish hair, and as he exited I knew almost immediately—even under his bike helmet and sunglasses—that it was Robin Williams. And he knew that I knew.

New in June: Go Big or Go Home (2014)

Netflix continues to bolster its back catalog of important directors. There are new additions this month from Woody Allen (Annie Hall), Jim Jarmusch (Coffee and Cigarettes), Howard Hawks (El Dorado), Steven Spielberg (1941), and three more from Robert Altman, not to mention the return of those itinerant Francis Ford Coppola films that never seem to stick around for more than a month or two. And in the No News Is Good News department, the handful of James Bond movies that showed up last month remain available—a first in the year-plus since this blog began. Bond titles, as many of you know, usually vanish after 30 days. But one of the bigger stories in June is the streaming debut of a movie as infamous as it was unavailable (at least in the U.S.), and as underrated as it was underseen—the one, the only:

Ishtar (1987)

"Honest and popular don't go hand in hand"

An early example of a movie reviewed for its budget rather than its quality, Ishtar sits only a notch below Heaven's Gate in terms of the critical scorn and audience indifference hurled its way. It may not have ruined a studio, but it certainly helped ruin the directorial career of Elaine May (who also wrote it), and long served as one of a handful of poster children symbolizing Hollywood excess prior to today's Tentpole Era. Me, I've always thought the movie got a bum rap. Having seen it during its initial—extremely brief—theatrical run, I remember being puzzled by the critical pummeling. Certainly it wasn't The Greatest Comedy Ever, but it was clever, entertaining, and silly in equal portions. Essentially a big-budget homage to the Bob Hope-Bing Crosby road pictures (anyone remember those?), it revels in the absurdity of Dustin Hoffman and Warren Beatty, as two of the world's worst songwriters, getting dragged into an international crisis involving the CIA, gunrunners, and Middle Eastern revolutionaries. Hoffman and Beatty have a blast playing against type (Beatty is hopeless with the ladies), bringing real zest to their off-key interpretations of the deliberately awful Paul Williams songs they're meant to have written. Some of it may be dragged out and, at times (yes), excessive, but like the characters in a Will Ferrell or Farrelly Brothers movie, these are very smart people playing stupid, and most of the time they get it right—especially Charles Grodin, whose sly underplaying steals every scene he's in.

New March Titles: Exiles' Return (2014)

So many new and returning titles this month! Whether by accident or design, Netflix seems to be making up for some of its recent deletions. Already back from the January 1 "great purge" are a number of classics including Easy Rider (1969), Roman Holiday (1953), Serpico (1973), and True Grit (1969), along with popular favorites The Bad News Bears (1976), Dirty Dancing (1987), and As Good As It Gets (1997). Fans of the late Phillip Seymour Hoffman will also be pleased to see Capote (2005) return to the fold.

Also returning: a veritable slew of Robert Altman films, from the good to the great to the misguided, bringing the director's total number of streaming titles to an impressive nine. No telling how long they'll stick around this time, but must-sees are The Long Goodbye (1973) and Thieves Like Us (1974); should-sees are Streamers (1983), a stark, underappreciated adaptation of David Rabe's play, and the Tim Roth tour de force, Vincent & Theo (1990). In the "misguided but rarely seen" category is O.C. & Stiggs (1985), Altman's satirical attempt at a teen comedy that remains fascinating despite its flaws. This intermittently funny oddity is worth watching for Dennis Hopper alone, who seems to be reprising his stoner-photographer character from Apocalypse Now, complete with a "Ride of the Valkyries" attack. Martin Mull, Ray Walston, and Jane Curtin also join the fun. Bizarre? Entertaining? Misunderstood? I can guarantee you at least two.

New in February: More '70s Tales (2014)

Some classic 1970s flicks found their way to Netflix Instant this month, partially making up for recent losses in that department. And who better to represent the last golden age of cinema than directors Robert Altman, Hal Ashby, and John Schlesinger; and actors Elliott Gould, Donald Sutherland, Bud Cort, Peter Fonda, and Nick Nolte? But even if that era leaves you cold (and if it does, you may need to check your pulse), you can also now stream Billy Wilder's transcendent Sunset Boulevard (1950) and Bryan Singer's deliciously beguiling The Usual Suspects (1995)—two films worthy of permanent residence in your queue (or as permanent as Netflix allows). [Note: Both have since expired.]

M*A*S*H (1970) - EXPIRED 1/31/15

It seems that each time a Robert Altman film leaves Netflix, another one appears, H.Y.D.R.A.-like, to take its place. In this case one could argue it was a fair swap. Out with Cookie's Fortune, in with M*A*S*H, the director's first big hit? Yes, please—especially if you've never seen this anarchic, groundbreaking comedy that marked the beginning of a long career filled with nearly as many highlights as lowlights—which is saying a lot, considering Altman's numerous duds. (They can't all be winners, right? Just ask Woody Allen, who's having a career resurgence similar to Altman's in the '90s.) Not only did M*A*S*H spark the careers of Altman, Elliott Gould, Donald Sutherland, and Sally Kellerman (among others) while providing the template for one of television's most successful TV shows, it also introduced a new mode of screen comedy (raunchy and adult), a loose, semi-improvisatory acting style, and a level of overlapping dialogue not heard since 1940's His Girl Friday. The advances in sound recording and mixing alone make M*A*S*H noteworthy, but of course that's ignoring the realistically casual performances and still-shocking black humor. Sure, some of the political incorrectness and a seemingly endless football finale may draw frowns, but the film retains a freshness and daring that ensure its place in the pop-culture canon. Not to mention it makes the characters on the ensuing TV series seem practically neutered.

January Expiration Watch: Déjà Vu All Over Again (2014)

Another month's end, another round of expiring titles, some leaving for the first time, others zipping past on a lazy Susan of cinematic temptation. Here comes Coppola...there goes Coppola...no, wait, he's back, and... Darn, gone again. Is that Buckaroo Banzai appearing on the horizon? By gum, I think it is. Oh, never mind—there he goes, zooming off in that crazy jet car, tossing fellow '80s stalwart Flesh + Blood into the back seat then extending one arm to snag Last Tango in Paris before crashing through a wall into the 8th dimension of streaming limbo. Rutger and Marlon, we hardly knew ye! But you'll be back, right? Pretty please?

Along with Coppola and Last Tango's Bertolucci, the seemingly obligatory monthly loss of movies by big-name directors continues, with a few titles more well-known than others. The most significant would be Robert Zemeckis' equally praised and reviled Forrest Gump (1994), Robert Redford's Ordinary People (1980)—which I'll never forgive for stealing the Best Picture Oscar from Raging Bull—Mira Nair's Monsoon Wedding (2001), and Fred Zinnemann's classic, High Noon (1952), starring Gary Cooper and Grace Kelly. None of these needs me to sell its virtues (or faults) before it's gone on February 1—unlike Robert Altman's Cookie's Fortune (1999), a pleasant, small-town crime comedy that was one of the director's better films during a lull in creative highs between Short Cuts (1993) and Gosford Park (2001). Four generations of actresses—Patricia Neal, Glenn Close, Julianne Moore, and Liv Tyler—are up to shady doings as a family of eccentrics with their reputations at stake when one of them takes her own life.

January's Lost & Found (2014)

Following last month's mass movie-title massacre, it would be easy to join the chorus of Netflix naysayers and cancel the streaming service in a noisy, indignant huff (see also: Netflix Huff). But a funny thing happened on January 1: a lot of great new and returning titles appeared, going a long way toward filling the gap left only hours earlier. Sure, it's going to be tough to make up for losing the Charlie Kaufman films or the incomparable Miller's Crossing, but this month's additions arguably go toe to toe with last month's departures.

Classic sci-fi fans may have cried foul at the loss of Robert Wise's The Andromeda Strain, but in its place we got not only the director's even more classic The Day The Earth Stood Still (1951), but the first of the Star Trek films, Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979). Sure, it's not the franchise's best, but it's far from the worst, and it has the distinction of being much closer in spirit to the exploratory/philosophical nature of the original series than the flat-out action-oriented installments to come. And to those of us who saw this on its first release and thought: "Wow, look how old those guys are!" it's refreshing (and a bit painful) to now think: "Wow, look how young those guys were."

Robert Wise fans (and I know you're out there) may also get some satisfaction from the availability of West Side Story (1961), a multi-Oscar-winning musical about star-crossed lovers from the opposite side of the tracks. This should ease the loss of not only Franco Zefirelli's Romeo and Juliet, but another award-winning epic about equally mismatched lovers, Titanic. Richard Beymer is no Leo, of course, but then Billy Zane's no Rita Moreno, either (thank goodness).

May Expiration Watch: Death by Twos

If the latest list is correct, a substantial chunk of Netflix's MGM/UA catalog is set to expire on May 1. Sadly that means a lot of great titles will be disappearing--including films by some of cinema's top directors. Many of the films represent these filmmakers' only Instant choices and, for whatever reason, seem to be leaving in groups of two (and occasionally three). So if you're a fan of--or just curious about--the work of any of the below directors, you'll want to consider pushing these titles toward the top of your queue. (Comments accompany films I've seen and can personally vouch for.)

Other departing titles include those of a few big-name bombshells (hint: initals B.B.), and yes, the increasingly slippery Mr. Bond. (Update: titles that stuck around past 5/1 have been noted accordingly.)