“One Night Only” starts with a banner of text explaining its premise: three years ago, pre-marital sex was outlawed in the United States. “It’s been a lot,” reads the text. I think I can safely say, if this were to actually happen, that would be the understatement of the year.
If you’re like me (or like any normal person, really) you probably have some questions. But “One Night Only,” directed by rom-com regular Will Gluck and written by Travis Braun, never tries too hard to explain itself. It’s not really interested in the why – why the U.S. reverted back to Puritan-esque views on sex, or why the government decided that once a year, everyone gets 12 hours to bang whoever they want (“Purge” style – but, you know, with less murder). It’s more interested in what comes next. Namely, will two really hot people played by Monica Barbaro and Callum Turner get their act together and sleep with each other before it’s illegal again?
It’s mostly a good thing that “One Night Only” doesn’t get too in the weeds – if you think about the implications of this one too hard, it gets real dark, real fast. And the film is at its best when it doesn’t take itself too seriously, leaning into silly, “one-crazy-night” style antics. But “One Night Only” can’t quite balance its wackier nature with the earnest emotion it tries to earn by the film’s end, landing on a note that neither feels all that romantic nor all that funny.
Ahead of the sex purge (that’s what I’m calling it), we meet Owen (Turner), a pizzeria owner who has just been told by his girlfriend (Maya Hawke) that she’d rather have sex with someone else tonight. To get back at her, he decides to do the same. We also meet Allie (Barbaro), an aspiring singer whose only gig is singing pop-songs-turned-medication-jingles (it’s a funny bit – Sara Bareilles’ “Brave” is used for a Psoriasis medication) and who’s tired of meaningless sex year after year. This time, she’s looking for commitment. Two opposing forces (she wants someone special, he just wants someone), they circle each other throughout the night, first as antagonists, and then teaming up to help the other get laid.
One of the highlights of “One Night Only” is that it clearly was filmed on location in New York City – and that already puts it quite a few steps ahead of countless, made-for-streaming rom-coms filmed in front of a green screen in who knows where. The fact that we’re in a real place elevates some of the film’s best sequences, such as Owen’s endless search through bodega after bodega for the last condom left in New York City (protection is mandated during the night of the sex purge – I have so many questions), or Allie’s attempt to steal that condom using a rope and a motorcycle.
“One Night Only” is best at moments like this – a little wacky and entertaining enough that the audience forgets to think all that much about what type of world these people are living in. It’s these moments where Barbaro and Turner also seem to be having the most fun, particularly Barbaro, who wields girl-next-door charm with a heck of a lot of wit (she also has a little more characterization to work with that Turner). There are moments of physical comedy from her in the film – including a moment where she tries to hide from the cops while naked, carrying a fern over her face and moving at a slinking, conspicuous pace – that made me long to see her in something that lends more time to those talents.
The movie can get away with diving a little deeper into the world we’re living in, as long as that dive leads to a place of comedy. There are little nods here and there to why this particular mandate came into existence – Owen’s mom Linda (Molly Ringwald) argues with her boyfriend Rick (LeVar Burton) about whether the law was a result of old man ideology or big tech. Some of these moments are funny, but they mostly serve to raise questions that the movie just doesn’t have the capacity to answer. Allie’s queer roommate Arya (Quintessa Swindell) essentially implies at one point that she and the rest of the LGBTQ+ community have already figured out a workaround for the anti-sex law (despite the fact that it’s tracked by some sort of biological microchip injected into people), and that this is a straight people problem. Now there’s a movie I’m interested in!
But, the movie struggles both when its comedy gets a little too broad or when it forces the audience to confront the premise in any emotional, earnest way. Some of the best sexual chemistry between Barbaro and Turner occurs toward the end of the film, Allie and Owen’s night winding down as they reconnect at his pizza shop. But as the movie tries to hurdle towards a big, romantic ending, it adds unnecessary conflict and drama that it then rushes to resolve. And Allie and Owen’s decision regarding whether or not they’ll rush to have sex before the law goes back into effect feels less romantic than it does a reflection of the world of the movie’s severe views on sex.
