As you are likely aware, legendary actor Christopher Lee passed away at the age of 93. As a fan of both horror films and giant blockbuster franchises, he was one of my favorites. Perhaps it was the types of films he was most recognized for, but he’s one of the most under-appreciated, underrated stars of the screen. This is made even more apparent by the utter lack of his films available to stream. I was all set to blow out a number of streaming recommendations starring Lee… until I looked to see which of his 281 credits were on Netflix. You’re basically stuck with his small role in Martin Scorsese’s Hugo, a 2013 film called Night Train to Lisbon, family comedy A Feast at Midnight, 1970’s adventure film Caravans, apparent knock-off The Tale of the Mummy, and The Bloody Judge (which, OK, I’m intrigued). Not exactly a showcase of his best work—Netflix doesn’t even throw us a bone with delightfully campy The Howling II: My Sister Is a Werewolf. So, instead of the perfect Christopher Lee streaming weekend, here are some other recommendations new to the usual streaming suspects.

Netflix

Orange Is the New Black (Season 3)

Netflix’s best original series to date is back with 13 new episodes from Litchfield Penitentiary. Like most quality television, we left off the season with many changing dynamics. Piper and Alex are on dicier terms then ever. Daya and Bennett’s relationship is starting to crumble. Red has hit rock bottom. Vee’s escape is bound to have serious repercussions on the remaining inmates. The emotional and dramatic stakes couldn’t be much higher for the start of season 3, which is sure to provide more shakeups, new characters, and more insight to the characters we already love. Orange Is the New Black was quick to becoming one of the best dramas AND comedies on television, and I doubt that’s going to change. If you somehow haven’t caught up, all three seasons are now streaming on Netflix.

Other titles new to Netflix this week:
The Cobbler (Thomas McCarthy, 2014)
Happy Valley (Amir Bar-Lev, 2014)
Nightcrawler (Dan Gilroy, 2014)
Primer (Shane Carruth, 2004)
Rosewater (Jon Stewart, 2014)

Amazon Prime

The Island of Dr. Moreau (John Frankenheimer & Richard Stanley, 1996)

If you’ve been watching Orphan Black, you’ll know that H.G. Wells’s influential science fiction novel has played an integral part. There are probably better excuses to watch John Frankenheimer’s (slash Richard Stanley’s) trouble 1996 adaptation, but I’m going to run with that. When the film was released it was heavily panned and it’s reputation hasn’t exactly grown over time—but can we still hold out on a critical subculture rediscovery? The Island of Dr. Moreau is undoubtedly a messy film, but it is also weird enough be noticed. Featuring one of Marlon Brando’s last performances, well after he had reached his tipping point, the larger than life icon (and quite large at this point, too) has to be seen to be believed. You also have ultra-serious, ultra-crazy Val Kilmer. It killed the career of one director who was replaced by a well respected filmmaker trying to make a comeback. Oh, and half-human half-animal hybrid monsters. The cinematic car crash that became The Island of Dr. Moreau is well documented, but maybe worthy another look.

Other titles new to Amazon Prime this week:
Life of Crime (Daniel Schechter, 2013)
Murder of a Cat (Gillian Greene, 2014)
The Paper Chase (James Bridges, 1973)
Repo: The Genetic Opera (Darren Lynn Bousman, 2008)
Words and Pictures (Fred Schepisi, 2013)

Fandor

Alive Inside (Michael Rossato-Bennett, 2014)

Fandor has built its reputation on providing foreign and classic films with their partnership with the Criterion Collection, but this week I want to highlight some recent films that are new to the streaming service. Alive Inside is a emotionally captivating, under-seen doc from last year about a non-profit’s attempt to bring music to those who are suffering from Alzheimer’s disease. Based on recent medical studies, music has shown to spark memory and reestablish identity, albeit briefly. In the film, a number of retirement home residents take part in the organization’s outreach, and the results are stunning. To see, time after time, men and women recapture something from their past from something so simple is extraordinary. Alive Inside shows the power of music as clearly as any film ever has, thus showing the great power of documentary film. Reading a study on this topic would be enlightening, but there is nothing like seeing the eyes of these individuals yourself.

Other titles new to Fandor this week:
The Builder (Rick Alverson, 2010)
A Common Enemy (Jaime Otero Romani, 2013)
Concerning Violence (Göran Olsson, 2014)
Harmony and Me (Bob Byington, 2009)
Farewell, Herr Schwarz (Yael Reuveny, 2014)

Video On-Demand

Hungry Hearts (Saverio Costanzo, 2014)

Starring Adam Driver and Alba Rohrwacher, Hungry Hearts is a psychological drama about a young couple’s emotional strain following the birth of their first child. Having a child is obviously one of the most wonderful moments in a parent’s life, but it is also one of the most stressful. Not only is there now a small thing that is set to dominate your life, each individual choice you make when raising this child could have incredible consequences. Hungry Hearts plays with this inherent suspense quite well with brilliant performances from its up-and-coming leads. When we reviewed the film earlier this month, we said it is “a harrowing and hard to watch film, but the sincerity of its performances and the tantalizing and rather unexplored content it delves into, make for the sort of film that is impossible to turn away from.” Hungry Hearts is available on VOD at the same time as its theatrical release.

Other titles new to VOD this week:
The DUFF (Ari Sandel, 2015)
Madame Bovery (Sophie Barthes, 2014)
Red Army (Gabe Polsky, 2014)
Timbuktu (Abderrahmane Sissako, 2014)
The Yes Men Are Revolting (Andy Bichlbaum, Mike Bonanno & Laura Nix, 2014)

Today, in this country, massive sporting events like the Super Bowl and the World Series are charged with fevered passion and hometown pride (and cute party platters arranged to look like footballs). But decades ago, at the 1980 Olympics, when an under-powered crew of amateur college hockey players defeated the seemingly bulletproof Soviet squad in what would be remembered as the “Miracle on Ice”, the game surged with a different kind of energy, stemming from the stormy political climate of the Cold War. At the time, Russia used their dominant ice hockey team (they flattened virtually all challengers from 1954-91) as a bullhorn to herald the preeminence of communism to the world. Tensions were so high between the US and Russia that Ronald Reagan made a speech underlining the political implications of the game, saying it would be “sheer folly for us to not make every conceivable preparation to win.”

It was a high-stakes playing field, and with his sharply composed sports documentary Red Army, filmmaker Gabe Polsky (The Motel Life) explores just how shockingly high the stakes really were for the five key Russian players (famously known as the “Russian Five”) who succeeded the felled Soviet team and struggled with a shaken sense of national identity when the crushing demands of their superiors (including the high-ranking government officials) eventually drove them to defect to the US to play for the NHL. The film is about as riveting as sports docs get, peeling back the layers of men who many viewed simply as enigmatic sports prodigies, but had in reality endured enough physical and psychological abuse to fill up two films. But Polsky keeps the story taut, using expert testimonials, archival footage, and incisive interviews with the players themselves to form a brisk, 85-minute powerhouse of a movie.

Our guide through the history of the team and the infamously harsh (and successful) Russian hockey program is Viacheslav “Slava” Fetisov, the extensively decorated team captain who led his squad to a slew of victories over the course of several years. We’re introduced to him in an unexpected moment of frustration: in the middle of a sit-down interview, Slava holds up his hand to halt the questions of an off-camera Polsky’s while he pokes around on his phone and takes a call, handling business matters, we assume. The director waits for a moment, but then ignores the request for a break and proceeds to ask a hilariously protracted question, goading the testy Slava to throw up a big fat middle finger in an act of annoyed defiance. He’s rude, yes, but there’s something magnetic about the way he carries himself, always moving and speaking with purpose and without compromise. Even at 56 he’s an alpha male through and through, and he’s clearly endured a lot in his lifetime.

Before Slava was named the youngest Russian team captain in history, he grew up in a tiny Moscow apartment with no running water shared between three families. It was a tough upbringing, but despite his parents’ dire financial situation, they bought the young Slava some hockey gear and sparked what would become one of the greatest careers in the history of the game. He eventually joined the hockey club, whose advertisements were militaristic in tone because, well, the club was run by the Russian army. “Real men play hockey! Cowards don’t play hockey!”

Slava’s first coach, Anatoly Tarasov, was his Obi-Wan Kenobi, instilling in he and his team the value of passing and finesse. Unlike the American teams, who used brute force and bulldozing aggression on the ice, the Russians moved like chess pieces, gliding the puck between each other with such control and strategic positioning that no team could crack their code, making them somewhat unbeatable. Slava’s teammates were Alexei Kasatonov (his best friend), “The Professor” Igor Larionov, “The Tank” Vladimir Krutov, and Sergei Makarov. The five were like brothers, spending every waking hour with one another and forging an unbreakable bond. “We were the same,” Slava says with a grin.

Despite national acclaim, the pressures of playing for the Red Army began to eat away at the boys, who at the hands of new coach Viktor Tikhonov had been subjected to horrific training conditions. They’d work out with a sustained heart rate of 220 bpm, would regularly train so hard they pissed blood, and lived in barracks with only one month of off-time a year. The team was fed up with the way they were being treated, and by the time Slava was offered a spot on the New Jersey Devils, he was practically itching to leave.

It wasn’t as easy as packing up and shipping off, however, as members of the Russian government were furious at Slava’s intention to defect. Officials did everything they could to keep him on Russian soil, to the point where the glorious team captain was brutally beaten in private and ostracized by his family and friends. “You want to play for our enemies? I’ll send you to Siberia. You’ll never get out,” an authority told Slava. It’s only natural to empathize with his position, especially in today’s climate in which Russia has reassumed its antagonistic perception in recent years. The lengths to which the government went to to keep their star players from leaving is as astounding as it is alarming. Slava did eventually manage to make his way to the states (he keeps the details of his escape from Russia suspiciously hazy, which Polsky cleverly highlights), as did his teammates, but it wasn’t all roses and fanfare upon their arrival. The Americans had no appreciation for the Russians’ balletic style of hockey, leaving them stranded on teams that couldn’t sniff the greatness of the “Russian Five” heyday.

Red Army is most stirring when it examines the painful inner-struggle of these men who left behind a country and government that took a heavy toll on their lives, but who could also never abandon their innate sense of nationalistic pride. While Slava’s time on the team ended badly, he admits in the film that he was very proud to be the captain of his country’s widely beloved hockey team. It’s these complexities that are often glossed over in the Russian team’s depiction in movies like Disney’s Miracle, but Polsky uses these inner conflicts as the driving force behind his Iron Curtain exposé, to great success.