3 excellent Netflix shows you can binge in a single weekend (April 17


Netflix might be full of long, saga-length series like Stranger Things that you can really make a meal out of. But sometimes you just want the satisfaction of and closure of getting through an entire season or series in one go.

Luckily, Netflix also has a lot of shows like that, as well, and I’ve got some new and old ones for you below. First up is Dan Levy’s latest, a crime comedy that premiered this month. There’s also Natasha Lyonne’s timeloop series and Mae Martin’s brilliant dramatic comedy to check out, too. Dig in!

3

Big Mistakes

Schitt’s Creek’s Dan Levy is back with a hilarious crime comedy

Dan Levy was brilliant as spoiled and snarky David Rose in the Emmy monster Shitt’sCreek, which he created with his dad, Eugene. It’s been six years since that show ended, but thankfully, Levy is back with a new Netflix series that’s gone right to the Netflix Top 10. Co-created by Levy and I Love LA’s brilliant Rachel Sennot, Big Mistakes stars Levy as Nicky Darando, an openly gay pastor in New Jersey who’s hiding his relationship with Tareq (Jacob Guiterrez). When Nicky’s impulsive and erratic school-teacher sister, Morgan (Taylor Ortega, Welcome to Flatch), shoplifts a necklace from a shop run by Yusuf (Boran Kuzman), the schitt (sorry) really hits the fan.

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As it turns out, Yusuf is in with the Russian mob, and that particular necklace turns out to be precious to a group of gangsters and their leader, Ivan (Mark Ivanir). Soon, Nicky and Morgan find themselves blackmailed into working for Ivan’s criminal syndicate, for which they are woefully unsuited. As a big fan of Roseanne from back in the day, it’s brilliant to see Laurie Metcalf steal scenes in Big Mistakes as Nicky and Morgan’s overbearing mother, Linda.

Critics have so far loved the show—it debuted on the Netflix Top 10 and currently has an 88% critics’ score on Rotten Tomatoes. Its eight episodes are each roughly 30 minutes, making Big Mistakes a great weekend binge.

2

Russian Doll

Natasha Lyonne parties, dies, and repeats in New York City

Ever since seeing Bill Murray’s classically funny Groundhog Day, I’ve been a huge fan of time loop movies and shows—where characters are stuck living the same day over and over again. While films like Edge of Tomorrow bring action and aliens into it, and series like Netflix’s Dark trip back and forth in time, Russian Doll drops its cynical, partying protagonist in New York City.

Created by Natasha Lyonne (Orange is the New Black), Amy Poehler (SNL, Parks and Recreation), and Leslye Headland (The Acolyte), Russian Doll follows gravelly-voiced New Yorker Nadia Vulvokov, who goes to her 36th birthday party, organized by her best friend Maxine (Greta Lee), after which, she’s hit by a cab on the street and dies. But something’s pulling Nadia back to life, and she resets in the bathroom at the party only to keep dying and coming back over and over again.

The fun of the time-loop genre is in the character’s journey in breaking the loop. And when you add Lyonne’s smart-mouthed wisecracks and sarcasm to the show’s excellent supporting cast that also includes Chloe Sevigny and Charlie Barnett as Alan, who is also trapped in the loop, you have a winning combo. However, although Russian Doll has had two critically acclaimed and very bingable seasons, the show has yet to be renewed for a third and remains in limbo.

1

Feel Good

Mae Martin’s honest and intense romantic dramedy

My introduction to non-binary Canadian comedian Mae Martin was through their excellent limited series thriller Wayward. But the prolific writer, actor, and producer has been killing it for years, and their 2020-2021 romantic dramedy Feel Good is yet another example. Hilariously sharp and earnestly vulnerable, Feel Good is the semi-biographical story of Mae (they write and star), a London standup and recovering addict struggling with sobriety.

In season one, before coming out as non-binary, Mae’s got a regular gig at The Gag Bin, where she meets George (Charlotte Ritchie), a sheltered Oxford woman who has only dated men. The two launch into an intense and passionate romance, and soon they’re living together. Much of that establishing happens in the first episode, but the real guts of Feel Good happen afterwards, as George’s reluctance to come out and introduce Mae to her parents destabilizes Mae’s addictive tendencies. But still, Feel Good manages to remain funny amidst the chaos, and the addition of Lisa Kudrow (Friends) as Mae’s despicable mother, Linda, adds the perfect tension to the show.

Critics heaped praise upon Feel Good (it has a perfect 100% score on Rotten Tomatoes) for its stellar performances and honest exploration of modern relationships, gender identity, and addiction and recovery. Its twelve, 24-minute episodes are easily bingable, making it a doable weekend watch.


We want you to get the most out of your Netflix subscription, whether that means serving you up ideas for movies and documentaries you can get lost in, or quicker shows that you can binge and be done with in a couple of days. We’ve got you covered.

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Do you ever walk past a person on the streets exhibiting mental health issues and wonder what happened to their family? I have a brother—or at least, I used to. I worry about where he is and hope he is safe. He hasn’t taken my call since 2014.

James and his brother as young children playing together before his brother became sick. James is on the right and his brother is on the left.

James and his brother as young children playing together before his brother became sick. James is on the right and his brother is on the left.

When I was 13, I had a very bad day. I was in the back of the car, and what I remember most was the world-crushing sound violently panging off every surface: he was pounding his fists into the steering wheel, and I worried it would break apart. He was screaming at me and my mother, and I remember the web of saliva and tears hanging over his mouth. His eyes were red, and I knew this day would change everything between us. My brother was sick.

Nearly 20 years later, I still have trouble thinking about him. By the time we realized he was mentally ill, he was no longer a minor. The police brought him to a facility for the standard 72-hour hold, where he was diagnosed with paranoid delusional schizophrenia. Concluding he was not a danger to himself or others, they released him.

There was only one problem: at 18, my brother told the facility he was not related to us and that we were imposters. When they let him out, he refused to come home.

My parents sought help and even arranged for medication, but he didn’t take it. Before long, he disappeared.

My brother’s decline and disappearance had nothing to do with the common narratives about drug use or criminal behavior. He was sick. By the time my family discovered his condition, he was already 18 and legally independent from our custody.

The last time he let me visit, I asked about his bed. I remember seeing his dirty mattress on the floor beside broken glass and garbage. I also asked about the laptop my parents had gifted him just a year earlier. He needed the money, he said—and he had maxed out my parents’ credit card.

In secret from my parents, I gave him all the cash I had saved. I just wanted him to be alright.

My parents and I tried texting and calling him; there was no response except the occasional text every few weeks. But weeks turned into months.

Before long, I was graduating from high school. I begged him to come. When I looked in the bleachers, he was nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t help but wonder what I had done wrong.

The last time I heard from him was over the phone in 2014. I tried to tell him about our parents and how much we all missed him. I asked him to be my brother again, but he cut me off, saying he was never my brother. After a pause, he admitted we could be friends. Making the toughest call of my life, I told him he was my brother—and if he ever remembers that, I’ll be there, ready for him to come back.

I’m now 32 years old. I often wonder how different our lives would have been if he had been diagnosed as a minor and received appropriate care. The laws in place do not help families in my situation.

My brother has no social media, and we suspect he traded his phone several years ago. My family has hired private investigators over the years, who have also worked with local police to try to track him down.

One private investigator’s report indicated an artist befriended my brother many years ago. When my mother tried contacting the artist, they said whatever happened between them was best left in the past and declined to respond. My mom had wanted to wish my brother a happy 30th birthday.

My brother grew up in a safe, middle-class home with two parents. He had no history of drug use or criminal record. He loved collecting vintage basketball cards, eating mint chocolate chip ice cream, and listening to Motown music. To my parents, there was no smoking gun indicating he needed help before it was too late.

The next time you think about a person screaming outside on the street, picture their families. We need policies and services that allow families to locate and support their loved ones living with mental illness, and stronger protections to ensure that individuals leaving facilities can transition into stable care. Current laws, including age-based consent rules, the limits of 72-hour holds, and the lack of step-down or supported housing options, leave too many families without resources when a serious diagnosis occurs.

Governments and lawmakers need to do better for people like my brother. As someone who thinks about him every day, I can tell you the burden is too heavy to carry alone.

James Finney-Conlon is a concerned brother and mental health advocate. He can be reached at [email protected].



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