Last summer,baroque eroticism saints catholicism I had the privilege of reviewing Netflix's Falling Inn Love. The made-for-TV movie, a schmaltzy romantic comedy as terrible as the pun in its title, was categorically awful. Still, its predictable pacing and shiny optimism plucked a glowing review from my heart.

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but the world is a mess right now," I wrote of the comparatively utopian climate we enjoyed in 2019. "There's just something about watching two good people try to do a really good thing that is...well, good."

Overwhelmed by the stresses of yesteryear, I rationalized my appreciation for — and public recommendation of — a movie I typically wouldn't have liked as an indulgence of my dire need for some Hallmark Channel-style sentimentality.

A year later, I'm doing the same kind of coping. Only this time around, the direct-to-TV-style gem stealing my heart is Fatal Affair, a psychosexual thriller so mind-numbingly formulaic it actually made life feel normal for 90 minutes. Even when 90 minutes involved a slew of murders, some really ridiculous fight sequences, and a surprisingly hot sex scene in bathroom.

Nia Long stars as Ellie Warren, a cutthroat patent attorney, mother to a college-aged daughter, and wife of the excruciatingly hunky Marcus, played by Stephen Bishop. Naturally, Nia and Marcus have it all. Aiming to start a legal practice of her own in scenic Ocean Crest, San Diego while Marcus recovers from recent surgery, Nia's got one more case to close with her old firm before she and her husband can enter the next phase of their staggeringly picturesque life. But when old fling (read: obvious stalker) David Hammond, played by Omar Epps, is hired to consult on Nia's case, friendly "let's catch up" drinks turn into an unhealthy infatuation.

You can probably guess the rest from here.

In keeping with the unceasing legacy of Adrian Lyne's Fatal Attraction, Fatal Affair is a movie you've seen before. Obsessed, Addicted, Temptation, The Boy Next Door, Unfaithful, We Belong Together, Chloe: this movie has at least one thing in common with them all. Directed by Peter Sullivan, the dude behind Netflix's Secret Obsession (which yes, also fits on that laundry list of comparison points), Fatal Affair clings to the glossy framework of films like it in ways that would usually drive me up a wall. It's got the killer leering outside a darkened window, menacing text messages received at dinner time, surprise deaths of characters you can't name, unexplained chances to see the main cast half-naked, and (spoiler alert) the triumphant turn of a would-be victim as a can-do hero.

It's horrendously overdone, and yet, I was blissfully fine with it all. I was entertained by and engaged with Fatal Affairjust enough that its shortcomings didn't make me frustrated or even all that annoyed. From the second I hit play to the moment when Netflix once again tried to get me to watch Unsolved Mysteries, I knew what Fatal Affair was giving me — a totally unremarkable experience, the kind I'd be getting from Lifetime or Oxygen if I still had cable.

When it comes to assessing streaming services and the content they offer, I'm the first to bring up the award-winning movies and shows that make these platforms a force for great entertainment. But I'm just as grateful for the subpar titles that worm their way into my queue on lazy Sundays amid global crises. Knowing what Fatal Affair would give me and having it meet those expectations was satisfying, relaxing, and, much like my experience with Falling Inn Love, surprisingly comforting.

It's a genuinely awesome thing to have access to movies and shows that fit our entertainment needs differently. Like a woman with a husband and a real cute sidepiece, it's fun to have options. If Fatal Affairis for you, you know that. If it's not, well, just don't give it your home address.

Fatal Affair is now streaming on Netflix.

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