‘The Next 365 Days’ review: this erotic threequel is fucking awful

NME

Yes, this sequel to 365 Days and 365 Days: This Day is absolute trash, but it’s not nearly as much fun as that makes it sound. Ineptly directed by Barbara Białowąs and Tomasz Mandes, who also helmed the previous two instalments in this icky trilogy of supposedly erotic supposed thrillers, it’s tedious, stilted and filled with unconvincing, frictionless sex scenes. You’ll almost certainly switch off before you get turned on.

There is a plot, albeit one you could write on the back of a condom packet. With her marriage to Sicilian gangster Massimo (Michele Morrone) on the rocks, Laura (Anna-Maria Sieklucka) begins fantasising about having sex with Nacho (Simone Susinna), her husband’s former gardener, whom she also spent chunks of the second film fantasising about having sex with. When Laura reconnects with Nacho during a trip to Portugal – he’s a star surfer now, apparently – Nacho declares his eternal love for her. Should she leave Massimo for Nacho, who seems less of a douchebag than her husband, or give her marriage one last shot?

Given that Laura and Massimo’s relationship began when he kidnapped her and gave her 365 days to fall in love with him – seriously, that’s the plot of the first film – this should be a pretty easy decision. Shortly after 365 Days premiered in 2020, Duffy wrote an open letter to Netflix CEO Reed Hastings accusing the film of “glamourising the brutal reality of sex trafficking, kidnapping and rape”. This threequel at least gives Laura some semblance of agency, but she never comes close to feeling like a real person. As she grapples with her romantic dilemma, the directors chuck in an incoherent jumble of club scenes, sections where Laura suddenly remembers she’s a high-end fashion designer, and wobbly comedy moments featuring her best mate Olga (Magdalena Lamparska). The latter spends most of the film getting drunk: something you’ll probably want to do too while watching it.

Terrible acting is a given here, though Morrone still manages to stand out thanks to some cartoonish brooding and his bizarre tendency to shout certain words – “You’re so wet” is probably the only line he delivers convincingly. Though the directors supply a sex scene every 10 minutes or so for the first two-thirds of the movie, they’re oddly prudish when it comes to depicting drug use. We see Massimo being lavished with a massive platter of cocaine, but they cut away before he actually snorts it. Like so many aspects of this bewildering franchise, it’s probably best not to question why.

Honestly, this film is so terrible it makes the 50 Shades of Grey trilogy look like high art. The review’s lone star is for the location manager who criss-crossed Europe to find all the blandly luxurious pads that this soulless nonsense unfolds in.

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