By Dwight Brown
Contributing Writer
She wants it. He wants it. The clock is ticking away in “One Night Only,” a romantic comedy satire that lacks real bite and feels like a stretched-out “Saturday Night Live” sketch.
It isn’t speed dating. More like desperately seeking sex. An ultra-conservative law mandates that only married people can have sex. Singles have one night a year when lovemaking is permitted. It’s a 12-hour window.
Screenwriter Travis Braun (“Criminal Minds”) seizes the moment and director Will Gluck (“Anyone But You”) runs with it.
Any success the film finds has got to be credited to the two lead actors who milk every moment with a twinkle of love or lust in their eyes. Monica Barbaro (“A Complete Unknown”) has an everyday charm that never loses its luster. Callum Turner’s (“Fantastic Beasts”) allure feels natural for a British dude playing a New York City guy.
Paired up, they handle everything a crazy jaunt around town can bring with drive, confusion, mishaps and attraction. New York makes the perfect background for this cauldron of desire and frantic dating.
Allie (Barbaro) had it all set up. On this one night in the year when singles can go at it, she’s supposed to go out on the hunt with her buddy Jacinta (King Princess). But her flaky friend blows her off as soon as she finds a man. His name is Tejan (played by Okieriete Onaodowan). They met in a line for the bathroom at a bar. Don’t ask.
Owen (Turner), a pizza parlor owner, has a girlfriend (Maya Hawke) of sorts and fully expects to be sliding into the sheets with her until she dumps him. Fickle fate clumsily keeps the two lost souls in each other’s path. They flub the opportunity to bond repeatedly. At some point, hostile vibes turn into flirting, flirting turns into something else and the question becomes: Will they or won’t they?
Young people desperate for hookups in an urban environment can relate. Carnal urges drive you; the choices are many, then few. All of a sudden the evening is gone and you’re still alone. Only in this case, you’ll have to wait another 365 days.
The film peppers its scenes with couples in bars, on street corners and in cars. That captures the absurdities of mingling and frenetic nightlife in ways that the target demographic will recognize.
Awkward moments abound. When Owen is refused entry to a private club, it’s a scenario that happens all over the world. Owen also lives at home with his slightly kinky mom (played by Molly Ringwald) and her lover (played by LeVar Burton). It’s a circumstance that millennials living at home will understand. Those moments resonate more than the ultra-conservative, sex-stigmatizing dystopian premise ever does.
Gluck is pretty adept at following the two around the Big Apple as their relationship grows. The nuances of the time, place and demographics come through in satirical ways. Yet, as provocative as the situation is, the gallivanting never goes over the edge — and it needed to.
While playing it safe could give the film a wider audience on streaming and television, that combined with a lack of truly comic explosions means the satire never fulfills its potential.
Yaron Orbach’s cinematography follows the duo across town and down into the subways. His lens doesn’t miss much. The pizza parlor, Owen’s mom’s brownstone and the cabaret where Allie dares to perform feel lived-in because the production design by Scott Kuzio doesn’t overdo it. The film’s zesty music keeps the romantic-comedy vibe afloat even when the humor fades.
Costume designer Jacqueline Demeterio gives Owen the nondescript wardrobe of an ordinary guy, while dressing Allie like a temptress in a sexy green sequined mini dress, one that’s as alluring as Audrey Hepburn’s famous little black dress.
Barbaro and Turner bring life to these sex hounds who turn into lovebirds. The manner, voice and personality she brings to Allie are wild, irreverent, effervescent and somewhat cynical.
He creates the persona of a guy who has never found the right girl. As both verge on letting the love of their lives slip away, the tension keeps the audience on edge. You hope they see the obvious. That they were made for each other. Supporting characters like Allie’s roommate Arya (played by Quintessa Swindell) fill out the ensemble, but none stand out.
This feels like the current generation’s “Sex and the City,” but from both male and female perspectives with a modern take on New York’s dating scene and its sexual politics.
They hunt for sex. They should be hunting for love. Barbaro and Turner squeeze every ounce of charm from the material, but this frustrating escapade is never as funny or hot as it could’ve been. Wish it had gone all the way.
Dwight Brown is the movie critic for the National Newspaper Publishers Association News Wire.
