what to watch in November

As the year begins to wind down, and the days grow longer, our critics have a fresh slate of films and series to keep you glued to your screen.

This month’s streaming picks include a 90s “filmic time capsule”, some tense US political drama (refreshingly set in a non-Trumpian America), and the harrowing real-life story of child sex abuse at a Jewish school in Melbourne. There’s also some sharp, tender animation from the creator of Bojack Horseman.

Whether you’re chasing comfort, catharsis or a good cliffhanger, November’s streaming picks are sure to delight.

Surviving Malka Leifer

Stan

Surviving Malka Leifer, directed by Adam Kamien, centres the survivors of Leifer’s abuse. Sisters Nicole Meyer, Dassi Erlich and Elly Sapper reveal their trauma and claim their power through this film.

The sisters are interviewed alone and together and we see their video diaries. While the sisters recount their abuse, we are often taken into a constructed dollhouse, classroom and courtroom where the sisters are represented as tiny dolls. A spider moves about these constructed rooms – it appears enormous relative to the dolls.

Alongside Freya Berkhout’s haunting original music and the raw accounts of the documentary subjects, these devices heighten the sense of risk and vulnerability in the film. As we follow the chronology of the sisters’ campaign to bring Leifer to Australia, we become ever more engaged in their rising panic about whether she will face justice.

We learn about the sisters’ psychological torment, to the point of suicidality and hospitalisation. The delay in justice is central to the film’s narrative. The sisters’ trauma was compounded over their many years of campaigning and waiting.

Surviving Malka Leifer tells several important stories. We see how the perceived interests of an insular religious community are prioritised over the victims of sexual abuse. We see how legal processes, especially when protracted, re-traumatise victims and maintain their vulnerability as abusers pose counter-narratives before courts.

We also see three women who have persisted through unimaginable trauma in their campaign for justice. Their courage is breathtaking.

– Amy Maguire

Read more: New documentary about the Malka Leifer case centres trauma, persistence and survival

The Diplomat, season three

Netflix

Season three of The Diplomat is back, with romance and comedy wrapped up in high politics. Star of the show, Keri Russell, is the United States ambassador in London and a possible candidate for the vice presidency. Instead she ends up as second lady, maintaining a trans-Atlantic marriage with her vice-president husband, the infuriating Hal Wyler (Rufus Sewell).

The program is infused with nostalgia for a pre-Trumpian world, symbolised by the ascension of President Grace Penn (Allison Janney) who, like her First Gentleman Todd Penn (Bradley Whitford), also starred in West Wing (1999-2006). That series, with its thoughtful and liberal president, represented a vision of politics which has now largely vanished in the US.

Meanwhile there is growing tension between the US and Britain, whose prime minister Nicol Trowbridge (Rory Kinnear) is a thug without charm. This tension dates back to an attack on a British naval vessel, in which the US was apparently involved. But if the exact reasons for it seem murky, it’s because the show moves at such a fast pace – and we are carried along as it features increasingly improbable romantic entanglements.

The Penn White House remains more attractive than its real-life counterpart. And President Penn doesn’t seem interested in demolishing part of the building.

– Dennis Altman

The Celebrity Traitors UK

ThreeNow (New Zealand) and 10 Play (Australia)

The British didn’t do The Traitors first, but they definitely do it the best. The reality show pits traitors against faithful in a social deduction game built on bluffs, double bluffs, “murders” and banishments – with a stack of money awaiting the winners.

The latest season, technically a spin-off, stars UK celebrities – and it’s really bloody good. As usual, there’s dramatic footage of the Scottish Highlands, the looming Adross castle, many extremely camp cutaways, some outrageous and well-produced outdoor missions, and host Claudia Winkleman stalking around in impeccable knitwear, whispering threats and encouragements in equal measure.

The winnings (apart from bragging rights) go to charity. Kudos to the casting director; this season’s lineup features national treasures such as Sir Stephen Fry and Jonathan Ross (dubbed the “big dogs” early on), as well as sporting stars, actors, singers, comedians, presenters and Gen Z celebs. They’re all thrown into scenarios that cut through carefully curated personas.

The season particularly excels at juxtaposing the gothic with absurdity. Where else would beloved actress Celia Imrie be caught out loudly stress-farting before a particularly gross challenge? It also plays with preexisting friendships and professional relationships in a sly fashion, as the cast struggle to play as strategically as “civilian” casts usually do.

You might tear your hair out at some people’s ability (or lack of) to figure out the show’s deceptions, but it all makes for impeccable viewing for old fans and newbies alike.

– Erin Harrington

Son of a Donkey

Netflix

Son of A Donkey, from the comedy duo Superwog (brothers Theodore and Nathan Saidden), tells the epic tale of Theo, his best friend Johnny, and Theo’s unnamed parents as Theo attempts to buy back his impounded car and to resolve his daddy issues once and for all.

Superwog are part of the third wave of wog humour. Here, their skewering of the vagaries of modern life leans more to the carnival of Pizza (2000–07) than the cosmopolitan ethos of Acropolis Now (1989–92). But the juxtaposition of classical music against some of the show’s more ridiculous scenes serves as a sly wink to its audience.

Its satire of an Epstein-esque sex island, conspiracy theorists, Jordan Peterson and the manosphere is at once ludicrous and needle-sharp. Even as they sink into a misogynist rabbit-hole, Johnny’s grandma is there to remind them who really is the boss in the ethnic family.

The main challenge for the Saidden brothers is to move from the disconnected episodic approach of Superwog to a cohesive narrative arc for Son of A Donkey. In this, they largely succeed, progressing the overarching story incrementally across the six episodes even as each has their own micro-misadventure.

Ultimately – despite flying shoes and rancid food – wog blood is thicker than water.

– Jess Carniel

Read more: From Wog Boy to Son of a Donkey: how ‘wog humour’ made Australian comedy its own

Monster: The Ed Gein Story

Netflix

The Ed Gein Story is the third season of Ryan Murphy’s anthology series, Monster, an examination of violent killers at the centre of some of America’s most shocking crimes. This latest instalment follows the life and crimes of one of the most culturally impactful serial killers of the 20th century – a man who inspired the films Psycho (1960), The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) and The Silence of the Lambs (1991).

Perhaps most surprising, then, given Gein’s reputation, is the sensitivity and empathy shown to him in Murphy’s portrayal. In Monster, Gein is abused, downtrodden, soft-spoken, lonely and easily confused. His killings are (largely) unplanned – the result of bursts of anger. His desecration and mutilation of corpses is suggested to be a simultaneous function of his desire to bring his much-missed mother back to life, and to experiment with his own gender identity.

Murphy’s depiction is not limited to a reenactment of Gein’s crimes. It also looks at his influence on popular culture, via other serial killers who emulate his actions, as well as big-screen adaptations by directors such as Alfred Hitchcock.

But ultimately, as Monster would have it, it is we who are responsible for Gein’s celebrity. As Gein himself tells the viewer: “you’re the one who can’t look away”.

– Jessica Gildersleeve

Mother and Son, season two

ABC iView

Season two of Mother and Son, a beautiful remake of the original 1980s–90s Australian sitcom, is just as strong as the first. And luckily, viewers don’t need to have seen the original show in order to enjoy it. The latest season features significant character development, as well as some delightful gender and genre gear shifts that make for cutting-edge situational comedy.

There is not one weak link in the ensemble cast. Denise Scott, who plays the mother, Maggie, and Matt Okine, who plays her son Arthur, are one of the best pairings in recent comedy history. They are supported the most by Angela Nica Sullen, the “golden child” Robbie, and the lovely alternative parent/adult child pairing of Tony and Maya, played respectively by Ferdinand Hoang and Catherine Van-Davies.

The tension between comedy and accessibility – especially the looming “D word” (dementia) for Maggie, and Arthur’s social isolation – makes the story arc of each episode and the overall season quite compelling.

This season is a collection of dark, funny and thoughtful moments. And the stunning cameos from Jean Kittson and Virginia Gray are wonderful easter eggs for those with a deeper knowledge of Australian comedy.

– Liz Giuffre

House of Dynamite

Netflix

It’s Dr. Strangelove meets Rashomon in Kathryn Bigelow’s House of Dynamite. The film has blasted onto Netflix with 22.1 million views in the first three days.

It details the 39-minute countdown until a nuclear missile hits America’s mainland. The Pentagon has taken issue with the film over its claim that America’s missile defence system isn’t perfect, whereas screenwriter Noah Oppenheim stands by his research for the film. Oppenheim is, however, “glad” the Pentagon watched it – “or is watching and is paying attention to it, because this is exactly the conversation we want to have”.

The ensemble cast is stacked with Rebecca Ferguson, Anthony Ramos, Tracy Letts, Idris Elba, Gabriel Basso, Greta Lee, Kaitlyn Dever and Jared Harris all having great moments in the tense drama.

House of Dynamite has a Rashomon-style narrative, where the countdown is told three times over with new perspectives each time. In the first segment, Rebecca Ferguson holds a tense conference call where we hear the voices of Greta Lee and Idris Elba, and see Jared Harris and Gabriel Basso via a screen. In later segments, we see this countdown from their perspectives.

Some may find the handheld camera distracting, and the ending frustrating, but the film is nonetheless intense, with Bigelow never letting up the pressure. With its apolitical, hard-working staffers, it feels very at odds with the contemporary political climate. This seems a deliberate choice from Bigelow.

In the moment, several players realise that while they know they need to focus on their jobs, they have loved ones in the target city. Do they stop what they are doing and tell them they only have minutes left to live?

– Stuart Richards

Disclosure

Netflix

There is almost an unwritten rule that every great 1990s thriller must have Michael Douglas playing the scandal-prone leading man. Douglas doesn’t disappoint in Disclosure (1994). He pays Tom Sanders, a middle manager at the DigiCom computer company who is falsely accused of sexual harassment. Demi Moore is also at the height of her star power here playing Meredith Johnson, the young, predatory career woman who lies and cheats her way to the top.

However, it’s Donald Sutherland who really steals the show as Bob Garvin, the power-hungry director who gets a sadistic thrill from playing favourites among the staff, and promoting his sexy, surrogate “daughter” Meredith above more senior and meritorious colleagues.

There are many guilty pleasures in this 90s filmic time capsule. First, there is the nostalgic amusement of watching clunky, outdated technologies (answering machines! CD-ROMS!) being presented as contemporary or even cutting-edge. The film also features a deliciously melodramatic soundtrack and other neo-noir elements. The first image we have of Meredith Johnson (Demi Moore), for example, is a close shot of her black, killer high heels. When the camera pans up to her blood red lips and defiant stare, we are reminded of the old sexist stereotype of the manipulative “vamp”.

Like many other erotic thrillers of the 1990s (think Fatal Attraction) Disclosure offers the politically-conservative reaction against female power that feminist Susan Faludi famously described as the “backlash”. The film is certainly dated in its sexual politics. On the other hand, its subplot about economic recession, redundancies, ruined careers, competition and corruption remain relevant and very entertaining.

– Susan Hopkins

Long Story Short, season one

Netflix

Long Story Short is a quirky adult animation that oozes charm and heartfelt realness. The series centres on podcast scriptwriter and playlist creator, Avi Schwooper, a character based somewhat on the lived experiences of creator Raphael Bob-Waksberg, the mind behind BoJack Horseman (2014–2020).

In this first season, Long Story Short explores Avi’s everyday existence in California, negotiating his complex attachments to his parents, siblings, ex-wife, daughter, and his Jewish faith.

Episodes jump between various decades and generations up to the 2020s and routinely grapple with the absurd. Episode 6 (“Wolves”) satirises the public education system in the US via a bizarre lockdown situation, which occurs when wolves start roaming the halls of the middle school Avi’s daughter, Hannah, attends.

Episode 3 (“There’s a Mattress in There”) also stands out as affecting. It focuses on Avi’s neurodivergent brother, Yoshi, on a quest to prove himself equal to his siblings, only to be undone by unscrupulous capitalists.

Visually speaking, the series has a groovy colour palette reminiscent of vintage storybooks, and a distinctive hand-drawn aesthetic. Each figure is both exaggerated yet realistic in a way that avoids slipping into caricature thanks to the influence of designer and supervising producer Lisa Hanawalt.

There are some strong, resonant themes around family, memory, selfhood and generational continuity. It is funny, yet achingly sad – a bit like life, really.

– Phoebe Hart