It’s cliche at this point, I guess, to say that Netflix has something for everyone.
Sure, it’s true, I mean, my god there’s a lot of diverse original programming on there, more it seems every time I log on, which, to be honest, isn’t too often.
I don’t dive into my Netflix profile log-in a lot because there hasn’t been a whole lot for me lately. Me me me.
Yeah, I loved Narcos Season 1 but I guess not enough to keep going once the follow-up season (s?) debuted. Same goes for Kimmy Schmidt. We are all still gaga for Trollhunters, but…what can I say, I’m fickle with the magical TV machine that way. Sometimes, nay, often times I simply don’t wish to be in front of it unless there’s a pitch of green and 20 outfield footballers moving about.
This all may be my body’s natural pendulum swing overreaction to the buttload (there really isn’t a better word for the volume) of television screen time I had when I was young. I was the 3rd of three boys, by a distance of 11 years, and it was the MTV age, the birth of cable TV: my poor parents had no chance when it came to setting proper limits.
Per Malcolm Gladwell’s 10,000 hours theory, I should by all rights be lecturing on the history of mid-80’s small screen entertainment at an Ivy League university. But alas, I am not.
I’m in my pajamas at home, a Netflix Stream Team member who actively avoids watching Netflix himself as his wife and teen binge Once Upon A Time on Netflix in the family room, as his tween sits on her bed with headphones on watching episode after episode of Lab Rats on Netflix on the iPad, as the cats…I dunno, maybe they watch Finding Dory or something on Netflix when I’m not looking and they’re not peeing on the carpet.
I bought my wife comfy Netflix Stranger Things 2 clothes from Target so she can binge properly.
Season 2 of Stranger Things arrived today, all however-many episodes, and my wife is caught up in the excitement along with, according to my Facebook feed, the entirety of America. Not me though. That’s not my bag.
What is very much my bag are the films of Noah Baumbach.
The writer & director of such art house gems as Mistress America, Frances Ha, The Squid & the Whale, and Kicking and Screaming (his 1st and my favorite movie of all time) is my favorite writer & director working today or ever, probably. I see all his films as soon as they hit the big screen. Not a fanboy, but close.
Thing is, his newest release, The Meyerowitz Stories (New and Selected), didn’t or at least hasn’t yet hit the big screen in my part of America. Instead, The Meyerowitz Stories (New and Selected) is streaming on the small screen, the one I avoid when footy isn’t on. Baumbach’s latest and greatest movie is on Netflix, right now, and I had no idea until I heard the writer/director on a recent episode of The Frame, this rad daily arts & culture podcast out of Los Angeles I dig so very much.
There’s now something original on Netflix for me, just for me (and, fine, other Baumbach fans too and/or casual movie watchers intrigued enough by the all-star cast of Stiller, Sandler, Thompson and Hoffman to watch something with no explosions, dragons, incest, zombies, car cashes or paranormal activity).
Enjoy your Stranger Things Season 2 binge. I’ll be settling in soon with my own geeky Netflix original pleasure, albeit sans Noah Baumbach Meyerowitz Stories loungewear…unfortunately.
