365 Days: This Day movie review (2022)

Laura and Nacho don’t actually have sex, although she sure does fantasize about it. That’s because, like “Fifty Shades of Grey,” “365 Days” is a conservative daydream. Look past the frequent, vigorous, lightly kinky softcore scenes—like its predecessor, “365 Days: This Day” flirts with male and female full-frontal nudity throughout—and “365 Days: This Day” is, at its core, selling the idea of marrying a rich man and having his babies. There are as many shopping montages in this film as there are sex ones, and all are filmed in the decadent, substance-free style of a perfume commercial. Expensive watches and fast cars, couture gowns and high-end sex toys, gourmet breakfasts on the terrace overlooking a million-dollar view: Massimo can give Laura all of this, which makes “365 Days: This Day” a romance. If he were poor, he’d just be a rapist. 

A solid 60 percent of “365 Days: This Day” is made up of aspirational and/or erotic montage. But when it comes to filling that other 40 percent, the movie does not have the good sense to stick to a simple conflict between bad boy and nice guy. Coked-out identical twins, warring Mafia families, and the most inept villain duo this side of Team Rocket in “Pokémon” all factor into the sloppily constructed storyline, which culminates in a jaw-droppingly incompetent action climax. It’s unclear what the Mafia does, exactly, in “365 Days: This Day.” Mostly, they seem to whisper in each others’ ears at parties and, one assumes, work out. (Is it a requirement that all Sicilian Mafiosos under the age of 60 have six packs, or just a bonus?)

As for the performances, why mince words now? They’re all terrible. But the “comic relief” provided by Laura and Massimo’s BFFs, Olga (Magdalena Lamparska) and Domenico (Otar Saralidze), is especially so. And as immature as it is to laugh at dialogue written in what is obviously not the screenwriters’ first language, good luck suppressing a snicker when Olga yells, “I can’t calm down! I’m Polish!” The music is similarly amusing, a bland R&B-ish mishmash that sounds, appropriately enough, like what you might hear over the loudspeaker at a fast-fashion emporium. 

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