P.S. But Did You See October's New Titles?

Aubrey Plaza, Liam Aiken in Ned Rifle

I know I said I was done. But with more classic titles arriving this month than have all year, I couldn't in good conscience look the other way. Props to Netflix—they've actually given me reason to end things on a positive note (just when I thought I was out, they keep pulling me back in). So, consider this a bonus post.

Not too much to note among new releases—not until later in the month, anyway—but there is Hal Hartley's latest, Ned Rifle (2014), which I can heartily recommend for fans of the director's work or anyone curious to see how his Henry Foole trilogy winds up. (Aubrey Plaza fans will likewise be pleased.)

But as is evident in the lists below, the real attention grabbers are some high-quality returns (Glengarry Glen Ross! The Impostors!), a few surprisingly distinguished debuts (Boogie Nights! Million Dollar Baby! Risky Business!), and enough new and returning classics to partly make up for the dearth (and disappearance) of so many pre-1982 titles throughout the year. Be still my beating heart: are those two Stanley Kubrick films (two of his very best)—2001: A Space Odyssey and A Clockwork Orange? Is that really Grace Kelly in High Society, and Gene Tierney in the sublime Laura? How about all those Gene Kelly and Frank Sinatra movies? And are we really seeing the return of many Nova, Nature, and other PBS programs? Color me impressed.

No idea how long any of these will stick around, but kudos to Netflix for not (yet) entirely abandoning those of us who enjoy a little vintage cinema with our blockbusters.

Okay, that's it, this time for real. Goodnight, folks! (And yes, I'm still canceling in November.)

New in August: Movies, Blog Features

In keeping with this site's new format (at least for now), below is a fairly straightforward listing of Netflix's August arrivals. This replaces the standalone NEW TITLES page, and includes revised categorizations to make it easier to see the breakdown of titles across decades. (In keeping with recent trends, the pickings from before 1990 are pretty slim.) Note that all of these titles are recommended, but those in bold seem especially worth a look. Feel free to list any other new and upcoming titles in the comments below.

Also worth noting: the new Recommendations and WoNN TALK pages! The former lets you easily find any WoNN review from since the blog began (and there are way more than I realized), while the latter provides a forum-like space for everyone to sound off on Netflix- or blog-related topics. It seemed like there have been enough general discussions and questions in the past to warrant such a page. How it will actually work remains to be seen, but let's try it, shall we? I know you guys aren't shy!

New Releases

Dr. Who: Season 8 (2014)
The Look of Love (2013)
The Skeleton Twins (2014)
Two Days, One Night (2014)
Welcome to Me (2015)
Wet Hot American Summer: Season 1 (2015)

2000s

Asylum (2005)
Blue Crush (2002)
Bride and Prejudice (2004)
Dear Frankie (2004)
Happy Endings (2005)
The Hurt Locker (2008)
The Man from Nowhere (2010)
RETURNED:
 Elizabethtown (2005)
 Lassie (2005)
 Quills (2000)
 Shanghai Noon (2000)
 Strictly Sexual (2008)

New in April: Going to 11?

Some interesting titles are making their streaming debuts on Netflix this month, along with a number of impressive standouts. Let's start with the high points, shall we?

STANDING TALL
The Big Lebowski (1998) - What else is there to say, but..."The Dude abides"?
Bound (1996) - A steamy neo-noir from the directors of The Matrix, back when they still knew how to put together a taut, well-constructed entertainment
Natural Born Killers (1994) - Oliver Stone's nasty, tasty slice of '90s nihilism, with Woody Harrelson and Juliette Lewis making Bonnie and Clyde look like Hepburn & Tracy, from a script by Quentin Tarantino
Three Kings (1999) - David O. Russell, better known today for Silver Linings Playbook and American Hustle, cooked up this dark Gulf War comedy that's one part Treasure of the Sierra Madre, one part Catch 22
This Is Spinal Tap (1984) - Even though I own two different DVD editions of this film (one of which is long out of print), I'm very happy to see this seminal rockumentary now online—a comedy that truly goes to 11

There are also a batch of notable titles showing up later in the month, including the much-anticipated first season of Netflix's Daredevil, the off-its-rocker Crank (2006), the latest mind puzzle from Jean-Luc Godard, Goodbye to Language (2014), and a couple of highly regarded new horror films, The Babadook and A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night. I'm looking forward to all of these (except maybe the Godard, which I saw in a theater—in 3D—and which might be tough to watch again, especially in 2D). Premiere dates listed at the bottom of the page.

March Expiration Watch: Hitting Where It Hurts

Welcome to the blog's 100th post. Combined with next month's 2nd anniversary and the recently added Amazon Prime page, these are celebratory times at What's On NETFLIX Now? (Cut to: an exhausted David dozing off at his keyboard). Would that Netflix itself provided greater cause for celebration: unless original series are your be-all/end-all, pretty much every category takes a sock to the jaw this month, from classic Hollywood's biggest stars to underappreciated comedies, cult indies, and, in a big blow to the kid in all of us, nearly the entire stable of Cartoon Network and Adult Swim programs. But let's start with the classics...

Goodbye, Norma Jeane

It's a rough month if you happen to be a Marilyn Monroe fan. On March 31, three of MM's more flamboyant 1950s productions are getting the hook: Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953), How to Marry a Millionaire (1953), and There's No Business Like Show Business (1954). Over the last couple of years we've seen these titles come and go, but my faith in their return isn't terribly strong now that Netflix seems to have lost interest in maintaining its back catalog. In fact, at this rate I may need to rename this blog What's NOT on NETFLIX Now?.

These colorful, over-the-top spectaculars (two are musicals) marked an unofficial coming-out party for the former Norma Jeane, who emerged from half a decade of supporting parts, prurient publicity, and a couple of low-profile dramatic leads (Don't Bother to Knock, Niagara) to fully cement her blonde bombshell status and create an iconic persona for the Hollywood ages. So if you've ever wondered what the fuss was about, this trio of films—filled to bursting with star power and production value—makes a pretty good argument for Monroe's status as a larger-than-life sex symbol who could sing, dance, and play the dumb blonde to comic perfection. She was much more than that, of course, as a number of her more dramatic roles would prove (particularly Bus Stop and The Misfits). But these early flowerings of stardom are how a majority still remember her, before her personal and professional problems overtook the headlines and lent a lasting aura of sadness to the woman whose show-stopping performance of "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend" (in Howard Hawks' Gentleman Prefer Blondes) remains a joyful pop-culture touchstone.

3 Romantic Comedies That Don't Suck

Hollywood has now given such a bad name to romantic comedies, it's essentially thrown in the towel and stopped making them. (Go ahead: try naming one successful studio-made rom-com from the last couple of years.) For some people that may not be a terrible loss, but I'm not one of them. I'll always enjoy a clever, truly funny rom-com—hold the schmaltz—and I'm sure there are other manly folk out there who secretly like to watch couples meet cute, fight, then make up while we grin foolishly and pretend there's soot in our eye.

That's where independent filmmakers are able to pick up the slack. In place of stratospheric budgets, exotic locations, or superpowered special effects, romantic comedies demand little more than a solid script, a likable, talented cast, deft direction, and an ability to breathe freshness into situations we've all seen a thousand times. A tall order, certainly, but one that, like any good indie, can be achieved for the price of a digital camera and a cast and crew willing to subsist on pizza, bagels, and passion.

Sure, the results can be as bad and predictable as anything starring Katherine Heigl or Kate Hudson (*shudder*). But there are also unheralded gems able to climb their way out of the streaming indie muck (for examples, see my reviews of Stuck Between Stations, Cashback, and In a World). Some of these combine a surprising level of star power, professionalism, and originality, and are more than worthy additions to a genre all but abandoned by the studios who invented it. I'm not saying any of the below titles are the next It Happened One Night, When Harry Met Sally, or Silver Linings Playbook, but each offers its own unique take on the pitfalls of finding love in the modern world.

Save the Date (2012)

Lizzy Caplan, Mark Webber

Despite its generic, rom-com-sounding title (ugh, not another wedding movie!), Save the Date still had me wondering how bad a film starring Lizzy Caplan, Alison Brie, and Martin Starr could possibly be. The answer, it turned out, was, "Not bad at all." As representatives (joint and otherwise) of three very funny cult comedy series—Freaks and Geeks, Party Down, and Community—the three stars promised to deliver at least a few laughs (and of course it's never hard to watch Ms. Caplan or Ms. Brie, who hit a sweet spot of smart/funny/gorgeous that can warp the faculties of even the harshest critic).

New in March: A Few Good Things

At first glance I wouldn't call March a particularly stellar month in the history of Netflix streaming—especially in light of all the painful expirations since December. But nearly every category gets a few worthy additions, joining obvious headliners like Top Gun (1986), Twilight (2008), Crash (2004), and Groundhog Day (1993), as well as returning greats Donnie Brasco (1997) and Taxi Driver (1976).

NEW RELEASES

Netflix, of course, likes to promote its original series, so you likely already know about the arrival of Tina Fey and Robert Carlock's new sitcom, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. The premise—irrepressible young woman hits the Big City after being locked in a bunker for 15 years—doesn't exactly set the toes a'tingling, but as the creator of 30 Rock and Mean Girls, Fey's cred is unimpeachable and I'll definitely give this one a look. Later in the month brings the complete runs of A Different World and 3rd Rock from the Sun, the first half of Mad Men's final season, and another Netflix original, Bloodline.

I'm a big fan of Dan Harmon's cult sitcom, Community (unforgivably absent from Netflix), so I was especially excited by the arrival of 2014's Harmontown. Documenting the cross-country tour of Harmon's live podcast—a free-form, often drunken mix of comic geekery, group therapy, and audience love-in—the film takes a peek inside the brain, and conscience, of a brilliantly creative man whose warring id and ego are at times painfully on display, but which remain inseparable from his razor-sharp wit and intimidating comic imagination.

February Expiration Watch: Whittling Away

"I am not an animal! I am...
...an old movie on Netflix!"

I'm going to keep it short this month, as it's more of the same old story, i.e., Netflix is taking yet another chunk out of its back catalog, erasing nearly 20 more pre-1982 titles. Among those are such all-time greats as The Elephant Man (1980), The Graduate (1967), The Greatest Show on Earth (1952), The Long, Hot Summer (1958), Old Yeller (1957), Ordinary People (1980), Saturday Night Fever (1977), and Das Boot (1981). At this rate, I hate to imagine what will be left of legitimate classics by year's end.

That's not even taking into account expiring second-tier pics like Adios, Sabata (1971), Hatari! (1962), Thief (1981), This Property Is Condemned (1966), and Will Penny (1968). Granted, there should be a few pre-1982 additions arriving in March, but at this point I count only two: Taxi Driver and 3 Days of the Condor. Of course, if you're a fan of upcoming TV shows like A Different World or the recently added Robocop remake, then no worries, right? (Note: heavy sarcasm. Do not ingest if on a low-calorie diet.)

If we look at more recent decades' titles, the picture isn't much rosier. The 1980s fare the best, with the most notable deletions being Ridley Scott's underrated Black Rain (1989), the B-grade John Hughes flick Pretty in Pink (1986), kiddie fave Honey, I Shrunk the Kids (1989), and Terry Gilliam's hot mess, The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (1989).

New in February: Taking It Slow

This has definitely been one of the slower months I've seen in terms of new releases. More than a third of the new titles were returning ones, while, with the exception of Houseboat (1958), there were no classics added in February, not even with 1980 as a cutoff. For comparison, this time last year Netflix added 10 classic titles, including an excellent group of 1970s films. Given all the recent deletions of older catalog titles—both feature films and BBC shows—that's not a good sign, and seems to further cement Instant's continuing emphasis on original content and new TV shows.

But let's look at the good news: among those TV shows are the second season of Bates Motel (2014), the full 2010-2013 run of the sexy/violent Spartacus, and the first five—some would say best—seasons of all-time classic M*A*S*H (comprising the years 1972 to 1978). The latter is a pretty nice coup, I must say, since it's been a long, long time since a lot of us have had the chance to revisit that landmark show. For those who have never seen it, I'm happy to report it still holds up in most ways—as long as you can get past some of the first season's casual sexism (a holdover from the original movie) and learn to ignore the superfluous laugh track CBS forced on the show's creators (to make sure audiences knew it was, you know, a comedy). No telling if Netflix will add the remaining six seasons, the last three of which are a bit spotty, but for now these episodes from the Frank Burns era should keep fans of the 4077th giggling through their surgical masks.

January 2015: The New & the Notable

Well, the end of December certainly was brutal. I don't know about you, but I'm still feeling a sharp ringing behind the ears from so many sacked titles. And if this month's upcoming losses are to be believed, the carnage is far from over. (Don't you dare take away my Coupling and Fawlty Towers! Or BBC faves like Dr. Who and Luther and Top Gear and...)

So, has Netflix decided to atone for these accumulating sins by rolling out an irresistible roster of January movies and series? Not so much. I mean, yes, there are good—and even great—titles that showed up this month. But fully a third of those were returning after a brief absence, so we've not only encountered most of them in the past year, but in all probability they'll pull another vanishing act in 3-6 months.

Not that I'll ever argue with returning titles The Apartment, Chinatown, Marathon Man, or Sunset Boulevard. Those should form a permanent foundation beneath the service—an impregnable Wall of Classics (if you'll forgive the mixed architecture)—especially paired with newcomers The French Connection, Fantasia, Marty, the original Robocop, Moonstruck, Mystic River, and Swingers. But considering the damage done to Netflix's pre-1982 catalog in the past couple of months, it's going to take a heck of a lot more to restore my confidence in the service's ability to maintain a respectable mix of both classics and newer titles.

In the meantime, here's the breakdown of what's queue-worthy:

December Expiration Watch: A Great Sucking Sound

There's no getting around it: things this month look grim. I can barely keep up with all the new titles being dumped daily to the 12/31 pileup. Of course, you could argue it's the end of the year and things looked bad last year, too. But you'd be only partly right. Over 60 expiring titles made the list then—a big number, for sure, but one that was mostly offset by a strong January and the eventual return of 15 of those titles.

But this year is undeniably worse. Over 120 titles are on the list this time—including nearly double the number of pre-1970 classics—plus 14 Woody Allen films (essentially wiping out the director's streaming catalog). Sure, Netflix could add an equivalent number of worthy films in the new year, but based on past experience, the paltry mix announced so far, and the company's increasing emphasis on original TV series over classic movies, I'm not getting my hopes up.

Some other interesting numbers: of the 120+ titles about to expire, 25 arrived in October (i.e., had three-month contracts), half of which were Allen films. Another 17 showed up in January, suggesting one-year contracts that are now ending. These were predominantly 1970s and Roger Corman flicks, so with any luck they'll be renewed in the coming year.

New in December: Cinematic Holiday Treats

December's incoming titles make for a satisfying mix of the new and returning, with a number of genuine standouts that haven't been seen on Netflix (or not seen for a long time, anyway). Directors such as David Fincher, Michael Mann, Peter Weir, Martin Scorsese, Francis Ford Coppola, Cameron Crowe, and Robert Rossen are represented, as is a certain superspy by the name of Bond, James Bond.

Add in a dash of Paul Newman, a pinch of Will Smith, and a spoonful or two of Jim Carrey, David Bowie, and James Caan, with a garnish of Jo(h)ns—Wayne, Travolta, and Voight—and you've got some tasty treats of cinematic goodness. Where are the women, you ask? Good question. Among the better titles, there's Jodie Foster, Jennifer Connelly, and Charlize Theron, but most of the films with strong female leads fall decidedly in the crappy category (yes, Demi Moore, Nicole Kidman, and Shelly Long, I'm talkin' to you).

The Thoroughbreds

Almost Famous

An ode to 1970s rock and roll, Cameron Crowe's autobiographical Almost Famous (2000) is the writer-director's most personal film, even beyond its status as a fictionalized account of Crowe's early years as a teen rock journalist for Rolling Stone. While (convincingly) portraying a very specific time and place in his young existence—life on the road with a Led Zeppelin-like rock band—Almost Famous is also a kind of looking glass into everything Crowe was to do as a filmmaker in the years to come, shining a light into the soul of a man whose sentiments and musical taste would enrich such films as Fast Times at Ridgmont High, Say Anything, Jerry Maguire, and even the underrated Elizabethtown.

The film abounds with humor, charm, and Crowe's distinctive sense of humanity, not to mention a killer classic rock soundtrack (authentically enhanced by Nancy Wilson's era-appropriate originals) and a cast to die for—starting with the young Patrick Fugit, whose ingenuous performance holds its own with those of Frances McDormand, Billy Crudup, and Phillip Seymour Hoffman. That's to say nothing of Kate Hudson's luminous turn as Penny Lane, still considered her defining performance (even after so many bad rom-coms), or the very funny Jason Lee as the fictional band Stillwater's insecure frontman. If this theatrical version of Almost Famous feels slightly lumpy and truncated (the longer, "Bootleg" cut provides some needed breathing room), there's no denying the film's warm, beating, nostalgic heart.

Finding Her Voice: Lake Bell's IN A WORLD...

"The industry does not crave a female sound." - Sam Sotto

Lake Bell, Fred Melamed

With the affordability of digital production, it should be no surprise that a growing number of Hollywood actors, dissatisfied with today's big franchise pictures, are stepping behind the camera to create characters and stories of their own. Joseph Gordon-Levitt wrote, directed, and starred in last year’s sharply amusing Don Jon; Zach Braff recently released his follow-up to Garden State, Wish I Was Here; and James Franco seems to turn out something new (if usually unwatchable) every other month.

The ranks of women initiating their own projects is also growing, even in an industry as male-dominated as Hollywood's. Though mostly working in the indie and low-budget spheres, there are a number of actresses who write (or more often co-write) their own films, such as Brit Marling, Krysten Ritter, and Katie Aselton, with the occasional breakout success of a Kristen Wiig (Bridesmaids) or critical acclaim of a Zoe Kazan (Ruby Sparks).

But with exceptions like Aselton (The Freebie, Black Rock), Jennifer Westfeldt (Friends with Kids) and former actress Lynn Shelton (Your Sister’s Sister, Touchy Feely), very few have made the transition to the director's chair as confidently as Lake Bell, who wrote, directed, and starred in 2013’s laugh-out-loud funny, In a World…, making its Netflix streaming debut.

New in October, Pt. 1: Getting Woody

Among an already healthy batch of incoming titles this month, a highlight for many will be the little-heralded arrival of 13 Woody Allen films, spanning the 20 years from 1971 to 1991. Combined with the already streaming Annie Hall (1977) and Manhattan (1979), this means Netflix now offers all but four of Allen's titles from those decades. Granted, three of those missing are among his best—Broadway Danny Rose (1984), Hannah and Her Sisters (1986), and Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989)—but with a filmography as relentless and wide-ranging as Allen's that still leaves enough chestnuts to make nearly any other director, living or dead, feel a pang of envy.

The '70s and '80s were fertile times for Allen, heralding not only his earliest and, to many, funniest comedies, but the commercial and artistic breakthroughs of Annie Hall and Manhattan, the technical tour-de-force of Zelig, and the warmly nostalgic Radio Days and The Purple Rose of Cairo. Entering the 1980s, Allen went on an artistic tear that few, including himself, have rivaled in terms of sheer variety and inventiveness. Working side by side with legendary cinematographer Gordon Willis from 1977 to 1985, the former TV writer and standup comic was definitely feeling his cinematic oats (even if he sometimes wore his influences too unabashedly on his sleeve).

This is the first time since starting this blog (18 months ago!) that I've witnessed such a large dump of one director's titles onto Instant. I have no idea if they'll be sticking around or will emulate the James Bond model of one-month-and-done. For those who can't stand the sight (or sound) of Woody Allen, or have a gripe with his personal life, well...you've probably already stopped reading this. But for fans and anyone curious about the director's early, often groundbreaking work, the following highlights should help you navigate a group of films which, while only a fraction of Allen's total, could proudly be called a complete filmography by just about anyone else.

Swing First, Ask Questions Later: MINNIE & MOSKOWITZ

There are a couple of things to bear in mind while watching the spiky romance that is John Cassavetes' Minnie & Moskowitz (1971). First of all, if you view it through eyes that are even remotely politically correct, you're sure to be horrified—the characters (usually the men) resort to violence and unnerving, stalkery behavior on a regular basis. Which is where the second consideration comes in: this lovestruck free-for-all is intended as a scrappy homage to 1930s screwball comedy, so it's as much cartoon as it is romance—the violence, despite the gritty 1970s textures and vérité-like camerawork, shouldn't be taken too seriously.

In fact, as far as Cassavetes films go, Minnie & Moskowitz is considered a frothy romp. But like the director's other, more serious work (such as Faces and A Woman Under the Influence), it offers its share of darkness and disillusionment amid the romance—which makes it all the more affecting. In some ways it's a shaggier, less clenched forebear to Paul Thomas Anderson's Punch-Drunk Love, one of the few films it's comparable to. I like its scatterbrained quality, its unpredictability, the tossed-off nature of its handheld camera and its unusual editing rhythms (scenes often end a beat or two before you expect). I also like the growling, dissatisfied incidental characters who unexpectedly emerge from the background to claim flesh-and-blood lives before ceding the spotlight back to the film's stars.

New in September: It's All About Pacing

This month's new offerings are a bit deceptive. On the one hand, most of the titles showing up in the first few days of September don't inspire a lot of excitement. There was the return of a number of on-again, off-again classics (welcome back, Ms. Hepburn and Messrs. Cooper and Wayne), a bunch of 1980s and '90s comedies and sci-fi/horror, and a handful of returning kid flicks. So far, so predictable. But once we look forward, things start to get interesting, with the debuts of a number of recent films that are undeniably top tier, as well as new seasons of quite a few notable TV shows.

Robin Williams down but not out

Flubber

But let's take a moment to break out the older and returning titles. First off, last month's loss of two Robin Williams movies, Popeye and The Fisher King, was certainly bad timing given the actor's own untimely departure. But Netflix seems to be making up for that with the joint arrival of Barry Levinson's beloved wartime comedy, Good Morning, Vietnam (1987), and 1997's Flubber, a serviceable remake of Jerry Lewis' Disney's The Absent-Minded Professor (1961). Which means the late Mr. Williams hasn't been totally left out in the cold, even if his incoming titles are arguably a downgrade from the outgoing. Perhaps the Michael Keaton comedy two-fer of  Mr. Mom (1983) and Multiplicity (1996) will help balance the scales?

Hello, kiddies

It's also more or less a wash as far as family films go, with last month's expirations being offset by a number of  (mostly returning) titles. Among those are the above mentioned Flubber, Barry Sonnenfeld's witty remake of TV's The Addams Family (1991), Disney's Fox's animated Anastasia (1997) and live-action Swiss Family Robinson (1960), Mel Brooks' Star Wars spoof, Spaceballs (1987), Pee-Wee Herman's second big-screen appearance, in Big Top Pee-Wee (1988), and the welcome return of Martin Scorsese's sumptuous ode to cinema, Hugo (2011). Also making its way to streaming is that rite-of-passage film for generations past, Old Yeller (1957), which may be a bit musty but should still leave a tot or two bawling by the end credits.

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?

Trying to Connect: TOUCHY FEELY

With its potentially overripe premise—a Seattle massage therapist finds herself repelled by contact with human skin, while her dentist brother discovers a talent for healing patients with only touch—Touchy Feely is best approached as a kind of modern, magic-realist fable. Writer/director Lynn Shelton, a Seattle filmmaker whose talents have graced such films as Your Sister's Sister and TV shows like Mad Men and New Girl, seems aware of the potential for heavyhandedness and treats her characters with a playfulness and generosity that keep the film from getting bogged down in pretension.

I certainly didn't expect it to be so funny (it's listed as a drama), although its humor is of the quirky, slow-burn variety that doesn't always call attention to itself. Much of my own amusement came from Josh Pais' painfully repressed dentist, Paul, who is so clearly uncomfortable in his own skin that even when he finds a measure of contentment it's with a wary distrust of the universe. His social awkwardness makes you squirm even as you laugh in recognition at every subtle twitch and pained smile. He may be a middle-aged dad who interacts with patients on a daily basis, but the man has never learned to be at ease with others.

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.

More Expirations, Netflix Gets Sneaky

Not to keep sounding notes of expirational doom, but when a film as brilliant as Memento (2000, reviewed here) is poised to leave Instant in a few short days—even if it's not at the traditional end-of-month—I'm happy to be called a Netflix nag. It's not the only movie worth checking out that will be expiring on August 14 (11:59 P.M., to be exact). Also getting a premature burial are three history-centric titles, not to mention those that vanished mysteriously on August 1 (addressed after the jump).

Agora (2009)

Although taking place in Alexandria in the 4th century A.D., Agora's not really a sword-and-sandals flick (though there are plenty of both). It's more an intelligent study of religious intolerance and the passing of Classical Antiquity into the first flowering of Christianity, featuring an excellent Rachel Weiss as the enlightened pagan-philosopher Hypatia. Director Alejandro Amenabar (Open Your Eyes, The Hours) brings a jaundiced view to the Christian hordes sacking and stoning everything in sight, but it's refreshing to see a period film of this scale not caught up in empty-headed spectacle and obligatory CGI nonsense, and with such a strong female at its center. As usual in such an undertaking, the history tends to get fudged, but that doesn't detract from the overall message or the gist of what actually went down—and what continues to transpire even in our own, apparently enlightened, age.

Expiration Watch: SAFETY NOT GUARANTEED

There have been movies based on books, plays, TV shows, news articles and even songs. But Safety Not Guaranteed (2012) must be the first to have been spawned from a classified ad. Granted, as classified ads go, this one was a doozy:

Published in the pages of a ruralist magazine back in 1997, the notice went on to gain notoriety on the Internet as well as on Jay Leno's The Tonight Show. Even before its authorship and veracity were finally accounted for in 2010, its core idea piqued the interest of screenwriter Derek Connolly and director Colin Trevorrow, who decided to create their own backstory for the ad's mysterious author and spin from it a gently romantic tale. The result was a scruffy, high-concept indie comedy, one sadly scheduled to leave Netflix on August 12 (at 11:59 P.M., for those watching the clock).