Those are some of the questions posed by Will Gluck’s preposterous and delightful romantic comedy One Night Only, set in a dystopian present where the government controls when and how unmarried people can have sex: It has to be on one designated night of the year, and using protection is a requirement. The nuts and bolts of the premise don’t matter much: presumably, this fictitious government thinks it’s promoting so-called family values, though its more nefarious aim may be to deprive its citizens of freedom and joy. The point is that on just one night a year, all the singles go crazy. The women put on their tiniest, sparkliest dresses and highest heels and head out, looking for romance or at least just a tumble. Then men spruce up a bit too, or at least put on a clean shirt, and though some have honorable intentions, there are others who maintain strict schedules so they can pack multiple conquests into a night. Men will be men—or at least some of them will be.
The romance of pizza in One Night Only —Courtesy of UniversalAllie and Owen run into each other early on, and the sparks fly, but only until Owen—who downed two quick kamikazes in the wake of his girlfriend’s announcement—nearly barfs all over Allie’s dainty shoes. She’s disgusted. They part ways, only to be serendipitously reunited several times as the evening progresses. After being propositioned by one loser after another in a swanky bar, Allie meets a gorgeous charmer (Andrew Burnap) whose apartment is decked out with an original Banksy, and maybe a Basquiat; Owen swipes right on a cutie who lures him from somewhere in Manhattan to Brooklyn Bridge Park—he jumps on a CitiBike and pedals like crazy to get there. Both of these assignations fall through, and somehow, Allie and Owen keep finding themselves thrown together. Their loathing for one another grows. They jab at one another endlessly. You can see where this is headed.
Obtaining contraception requires Herculean effort —Courtesy of UniversalBut she’s not the only unassuming superstar in One Night Only. This is a great New York movie, one that captures all the beauty and dumb grit of this fantastic, weird city. On this night of all nights, the youngsters at play aren’t just piling into Ubers like spoiled rich kids. They’re actually riding the subway, as broke young people continue to do, and the stations look to have been only just slightly spruced up for their big closeups—you won’t see any Pizza Rats, but you might notice a stray gum wrapper here or there. The movie also makes great use of some the city's underrepresented landmarks, like Washington Heights' adorable Little Red Lighthouse, made famous by Hildegarde Swift’s 1947 children’s book The Little Red Lighthouse and the Great Gray Bridge. It all seems too good to be true—but it isn't. One Night Only gives us a New York that’s only a semi-fantasy, a place where, even in the face of encroaching corporate chains, you can still see small, independently owned restaurants announcing their presence with the warmth of a neon sign. It’s true that, in real life, these spots are disappearing. But so many of them hang on, in a city that, against all odds, continues to hang on to everything human and real and perhaps just a bit crazy. One Night Only still believes in the glorious unpredictability of New York, just as it believes in love and freedom and the joy and messiness of amorous adventures. It’s a movie extolling the pleasures of sex and the city, in that order.
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