Will Gluck’s One Night Only is a film with a simple yet maddening proposition at its core – a law that decrees sex between single, consenting adults be outlawed except for a single night when, over the course of 12 hours, it’s game on like Donkey Kong (with protection, of course). Such is the world that vocalist Allie (Monica Barbaro) and pizza parlour owner Owen (Callum Turner) find themselves in, both single, both without any real romantic prospects on the horizon. And the clock is ticking.
Much like the narrative device of time travel, any real scrutiny of the central premise falls apart almost instantaneously. At first you marvel at the absurdity of it all, before asking yourself why New York City isn’t burnt to its foundations in a haze of pent up sexual energy and a fury of civil disobedience. In fact, the idea itself almost works against the charm of the film’s leads. It’s such a dystopian notion, presented in an oddly la-di-da fashion that the viewer’s minds will wonder to how the mechanics of the law actually work. It does, however, make for some hilarious moments, as the city erupts in a flurry of torn clothing and people desperately and awkwardly trying to make the most of the night.
For a story about a 12 hour, country wide orgy, One Night Only is an oddly sexless film and does an incredible amount of work to avoid showing any of the act. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem if, much like Allie’s own carnal preference of build-up, there was an escalation of tension. But there really isn’t any. Instead, much of the film is focused on our heroes running from point A to B to C in an Amazing Race style dash across New York City to procure the last, obscenely priced condom in Manhattan.
While One Night Only’s conceit is flimsy at best, the chemistry and charm of its leads is anything but. Gluck has brought together a pair of deeply likeable, affable and intensely sexy leads in Turner and Barbaro. Barbaro’s Allie, a jingles singer who’s so stricken by stage fright to do any real performing is endearingly funny and a romantic at heart. While other characters of her ilk in similar movies may come off as paint by numbers, Barbaro oozes a girl next door screen presence without even trying, setting many hearts a flutter on and off the screen. And Dua Lipa? I finally get it, girl. It’s *very* easy to see Turner’s appeal – again – on and off the screen. He has a quintessential boyish handsomeness, an old school charm, with a hint of British clumsiness we haven’t seen since the early days of Hugh Grant’s career. Except with bigger shoulders and a thicker neck. He’d make for an interesting Bond – a gentle and easy charisma that offsets the steely eyed bed gremlin that was Mr Daniel Craig (complimentary).
Whilst indeed a sexless romp, the onscreen attraction between Barbaro and Turner practically spills off the screen. It’s a playful, sweet, kind and warmly alluring chemistry. It hits you with whiffs of electricity when Allie casually throws a sly glance, or when Owen’s physical stature does most of the talking. Had Turner pulled an Elordi corset yank a la Wuthering Heights, you’d have needed to pull the fire alarm in my screening.
One Night Only is a fun, breezy, and effortlessly funny bit of romantic charm that may ask a little too much in way of its central conceit, but is offset by the intense chemistry and captivating appeal of both Barbaro and Turner. If you ever wondered what a mash up between The Purge and Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist looked like, then boy do I have the movie for you.
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