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Since we know how important at-home-entertainment is for all of us – every week we do a little “what’s getting released on DVD/on demand/Netflix this week” round up for you, with nice little excerpts of our past reviews and more. You’ll love it. Trust us. Now all you need is someone to watch these movies with:


  • Mood Indigo. Here’s what we said in our original review:
    There is only one interesting thing about Mood Indigo, and that’s its cinematography. It starts with vibrant hues, then drains of light and color as Chloe gets sick. It’s a visual metaphor for her health and Colin’s broken heart, which would be moving if there was any emotional truth or hint of insight about human nature. Instead, Mood Indigo is a feature-length music video, with all the depth and insight that suggests. A colossal misstep in every conceivable way, this film should be spurned by Gondry fans until he’s shamed into never writing his own screenplays again. Mood Indigo is so goddamn awful that Gondry insults us by thinking we’d be entertained with his cloying dreck.
  • I Am Ali. Here’s David Ehrlich over at The Dissolve:
    While I Am Ali is keen to assert Ali’s pivotal role in strengthening blackness in America, it does so out of obligation. The film is far more interested in sharing bite-sized treats from Ali’s audio journals, exploiting an inherent fascination with how an icon could also be a father and a husband. These morsels, which Lewins illustrates with the dull image of an undulating sound wave, are epitomized by an impossibly sweet clip of Ali trying to get one of his daughters to say his famous catchphrase, “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.” It’s precious stuff, perhaps even priceless for Ali’s legion of fans, but Lewins’ film does little to muster interest for anyone who isn’t particularly interested in the details of how he raised his children, and it does even less to extrapolate anything broader from its detritus of archival material. There are several good documentaries about Muhammad Ali, but whileI Am Ali makes a convincing case that it would take several more films about him to comprehensively capture his incredible life, these 111 minutes nevertheless fail to bring us any closer.


  •  X-Men: Days of Future Past. Here’s what we said in our original review:
    Days of Future Past also comes with some strengths. The screenplay by Simon Kinberg is incredibly economical, packing in a tremendous amount of reversals and happenings; the performances are all solid, especially by Jackman, McAvoy and Lawrence; and as the director, Singer still knows how to have a good time. There’s a marvelous sequence in which Quicksilver (Evan Peters), a mutant who can move at blinding speed, takes out an entire room of armed guards. The scene slows down time so that we can watch him lackadaisically jog around the room, positioning guards to slip off their feet, moving bullets, and generally amusing himself, all before time resumes its usual pace and everyone falls on their ass.


  • Nebraska. Here’s what we said in our original review:
    A lesser film would think the secrets were deliberately buried; that they’re still boiling beneath the surface and held in check only by the stultification of small-town life. Nebraska has the good sense to realize they were just subsumed — slowly driven under by the march of time and routine, over no one’s particular objection. Which isn’t to say everyone in the town is kind and open-hearted. Quite the opposite. The harsh emptiness does things to people: as one character observes, there’s not much to do other than drink. Upon news of Woody’s impending millions, some of the townsfolk are genuinely pleased for him. Some are pleasant enough, but you can sense the reptilian envy. And some, like the odious Ed Pegram (Stacey Keach) smell a mark. Even some of Woody’s own relatives get in on the attempt to bleed him, sparking a blow-up from Kate that confirms her ongoing loyalty to her husband and provides some spectacular monologuing from Squibb.
  • Fading Gigolo. Here’s Ben Kenigsberg over at The AV Club:
    There are strange movies, and then there are movies that feature Vanessa Paradis as a Hasidic widow and Liev Schreiber as a lovelorn Satmar patrolman. That doesn’t even address the central casting gambit in Fading Gigolo, which stars John Turturro, who also wrote and directed, as a florist moonlighting as a gigolo. When bookstore owner Murray (Woody Allen) learns his dermatologist (Sharon Stone) and her friend (Sofía Vergara) are considering a ménage à trois—and what doctor wouldn’t volunteer that information?—he brings the idea to the pal he inexplicably sees as the lover of their dreams. Convincing Turturro’s Fioravante that he’s at least as big a draw as Mick Jagger, Murray soon arranges an introduction. Before long, the two of them are a team, providing a service to New York’s wealthiest women, who marvel at Fioravante’s chivalric bedside manner. “It’s like candy, having sex with you,” Stone’s character exclaims. “You have one piece and you always want another.”
  • Stretch. Here’s Jack Giroux over at Film School Rejects:
    Now, we do see Stretch wrestle with these questions in a movie where he has to chase down an American Idol contestant and be belittled by David Hasselhoff, but his personal crisis still brings a considerable amount of weight to the film. Carnahan has pulled off a real balancing act with Stretch as this often mean-spirited and outrageous comedy has an unexpected optimism to it. It’s a surprisingly nice movie. Somehow the sweetness of Stretch’s journey is never at odds with an otherwise perverse ride, and while Stretch is a little rough around the edges it’s also endearing, often exciting and packed with laughs.

That’s it for our weekly Netflix guide. Let us know what you’re watching in the comments!