The Problem with ‘365 Days’

I took the bait and watched Netflix’s trending film 365 Days, which the internet insists on calling the “international, more explicit” version of Fifty Shades of Grey. And listen—I love a camp movie. I’m a proud defender of films that are so bad they circle back to iconic (Showgirls, The Room). But this? This is not camp. This is just… bad.

There is no narrative flow. No character development. No coherent storyline. By the end, I was staring at my TV asking, What did I just watch? The film awkwardly jumps between Italian, Polish, and English, and every time the actors phonetically stumble through English dialogue, the cringe is almost physical. Yes, the leads are aggressively attractive. No, that does not save the movie. Not even a little.

The plot—if we’re being generous—opens with Massimo, a mafia boss, and Laura, a Polish woman vacationing in Italy with her boyfriend and friends. Years earlier, Massimo had some sort of mystical vision of Laura and, by sheer coincidence (or destiny, according to the movie), spots her again. He decides she is his. Destiny has spoken. Logic has left the building.

Massimo kidnaps Laura, isolates her, sexualizes her, and explains that while he always gets what he wants—by force, if necessary—he’s feeling generous. He’ll give her 365 days to fall in love with him. If she does, it’s her “choice.” (Yes, that’s the title. No, it does not get smarter.)

What follows is a greatest-hits reel of problematic tropes: controlling behavior framed as passion, intimidation masquerading as seduction, and—of course—the Shopping Montage™. Because nothing says “true love” like being kidnapped and then dragged through designer boutiques.

Things come to a head when Laura nearly drowns and Massimo saves her. Enter the savior trope. The implication is clear: because he rescued her, his violence is redeemed. Laura has an emotional epiphany and decides she doesn’t need a full year to fall in love. One heroic act erases months of terror. Cue an extremely long, extremely explicit sex scene. Fifty Shades of Grey, who?

And just in case you thought we were done, don’t worry—there’s another shopping montage. And yes, a third one too.

Here’s the real issue, beyond the film being objectively terrible: 365 Days mirrors the dynamics of emotional, physical, and financial abuse—and presents them as erotic. Kidnapping is romanticized. Sexual assault is reframed as desire. Control is sold as devotion.

Massimo completely cuts Laura off from her home, her friends, and her autonomy. He dictates what she wears, where she goes, and who she sees. When he finally allows her to return to Poland, it’s still on his terms—his apartment, his money, his rules. No job? No independence? It’s fine. He’ll bankroll her captivity.

The sexual undertones are deeply unsettling. From the moment he calls her “baby girl” (a phrase that somehow gets worse every time it’s repeated), Laura is framed as childlike, lost, and dependent—someone who needs him to guide her. When she attempts to escape, he pins her against a wall and gropes her. On a plane, she’s literally tied up while he touches her without consent. The audience is expected to believe this isn’t assault because she reacts with a sigh.

Then—miraculously—once they finally have sex, Laura’s entire personality flips. Massimo is no longer a predator; he’s suddenly “honey.” Abuse, apparently, is cured by orgasms.

Did I convince you to watch this movie? Please do. I’d love company in my suffering.

Better yet, turn it into a drinking game. Take a shot every time you cringe. I promise you’ll be unconscious within five minutes.

Netflix must be trolling us, because somehow there’s a second and third film. Until then, pour yourself a drink. You’re going to need it.

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A matchmaker’s note: if a relationship starts with kidnapping, coercion, and isolation, it’s not “passionate.” It’s dangerous. And no amount of abs will ever change that.

If you are selective, value your privacy, want meaningful results, and recognize that your dating pool has changed with time, professional matchmaking may be the right next step.

Dating does not have to feel chaotic or overwhelming. With the right structure and guidance, it can feel purposeful again.

Author

Chrisoula Mavrianos

Chrisoula is an integral part of the Agape Match team and a fourth-generation matchmaker with a natural talent for fostering meaningful connections. Working closely with the Founder, Chrisoula builds strong, positive relationships with clients and members alike, ensuring every interaction feels personal and seamless.