Stop Calling Every Eight-Hour Movie “Television”

The great streaming lie is that more minutes equal more value. Give us eight episodes, six subplots and a finale that arrives wearing a backpack full of unanswered questions, and suddenly we’re supposed to call it “rich.” I call it a hostage situation with tasteful lighting.

Benny’s Picks

Hacks — Max. This is one of television’s best comedies, and it keeps getting better because it understands that jokes are not decorative trim. Jean Smart and Hannah Einbinder can turn a petty argument about a hotel room into Shakespeare with Botox. It’s sharp, warm and actually funny — a suspiciously rare combination.

Ripley — Netflix. The black-and-white photography is so gorgeous it occasionally feels like the show is trying to seduce you into forgiving Tom Ripley for being, you know, Tom Ripley. Andrew Scott plays him as a human loading screen: blank, patient and quietly waiting for the next terrible decision. It’s slow, but unlike most “slow burns,” it has a flame.

The Holdovers — streaming rental. This is a Christmas movie for people who think they hate Christmas movies. Paul Giamatti is magnificently miserable, Da’Vine Joy Randolph is heartbreaking without begging for applause, and the whole thing smells like old books, cafeteria coffee and emotional damage. Watch it when you want to feel better, but not in an insulting way.

Brat — Charli xcx, streaming everywhere. The album is not merely a collection of bangers; it is a hostile takeover of your inner monologue. “360” sounds like a nightclub having a nervous breakdown, while “So I” somehow makes grief danceable without turning it into a motivational poster. If you still think Charli is “just internet pop,” congratulations on missing the party while standing in the doorway.

Skip It

The endless parade of “cinematic universes.” I do not need a prequel to the side character from the third episode of a spinoff. I need writers to finish one story before introducing a mysterious glowing doorway. If your franchise requires a chart, a podcast and three hours of homework, it is no longer entertainment. It is unpaid administration.

Sleeper Pick

Blue Eye Samurai — Netflix. It got plenty of praise, but not nearly enough people actually watched it. The animation is stunning, the action has real weight, and its revenge story is satisfyingly nasty without becoming dumb. It is the rare series that looks beautiful enough to frame and feels brutal enough to leave fingerprints.