One Night Only

by Mike McGranaghan

One Night Only takes the premise of the Purge series and applies it to the romantic-comedy format. That proves to be as disastrous as it sounds. In the opening minutes, we learn that the government has outlawed sex among the unmarried, save for a 12-hour period each year where they’re legally allowed to fornicate all they want. I’m sure there are politicians who would like to enact such a law, and I’m equally certain the American public would rise up in revolt if they were to try passing it.

The mere concept gets the movie off on the wrong foot. We instantly want to know how this happened. Why didn’t people rise up? Who are the cops that spend the other 364 days of the year arresting folks who just want to get laid? What happens if you break the law? We do learn that everyone is implanted with a chip to monitor their status, but who in their right mind would willfully allow such a thing?

No efforts to explore the implied totalitarian control are made. Instead, we meet commercial jingle singer Allie (Monica Barbaro) and pizzaria owner Owen (Callum Turner). For different reasons, both wander through parts of New York City looking for some action before time runs out. He’s already got a girlfriend (Maya Hawke) who has announced she intends to have sex with a different man; she’s hoping to make an emotional connection to match the physical connection. Following an awkward initial meeting, the two keep running into each other throughout the night.

Barbaro and Turner are both ridiculously attractive people. The obvious line here is for Allie and Owen to hook up. One Night Only doesn’t do the obvious, though. No, it puts them through a series of lame encounters with other potential partners, each of which ends in a contrived comedic mishap. There are also dumb capers, as when the two attempt to steal the last remaining condom from a bodega. All of this is leading to the inevitable resolution. You know what it is, right? If you’ve ever seen a movie - any movie – before, of course you know.

The tragedy is that the stars have phenomenal chemistry together. They are charismatic, committed to the material, and clearly having fun acting opposite each other. That makes the decision to separate their characters for large chunks of the picture confounding. Travis Braun’s screenplay wastes time surrounding them with unfunny sex gags involving stuff like KY jelly and public fornication. The movie isn’t serious about its central couple, and it isn’t serious about its provocative premise, either. Director Will Gluck (Anyone But You) can gussy the story up with music montages and slick photography all he wants but it doesn’t change the fundamental emptiness at the core.

Ultimately, that’s the most frustrating aspect of One Night Only. Let’s say we buy into the whole “sex is illegal” idea. That would have a profound effect on the public’s mental state. Feelings of isolation or disconnectedness would be prevalent among many. Individuals like Allie and Owen would be in a kind of psychological panic, given a short time to find a sense of relief or catharsis. Honesty of this sort is far more compelling – not to mention more potentially humorous – than trying to retrieve a condom that’s fallen through a sidewalk grate.

One Night Only has the opportunity to be a smart comedy about sexual attitudes in a country where swaths of the government want to revert into puritanism. The film chooses to revel in middle school-level sex jokes and a worn-out "Will they or won’t they get together?" hook. Barbaro and Turner find their considerable talents wasted in this juvenile, colossally disappointing enterprise.