Coyote vs. Acme - Review: Comedic Justice

 

Way back in 2023, Warner Bros. announced a number of films they were set to receive tax write offs on, meaning that they would not be allowed to release the films or profit from them in any way, taking a lump sum of money instead. While two of those projects, “Batgirl” and “Scoob: Holiday Haunt” were in various stages of completion, one of them was a film that was finished and had undergone test screenings in the months prior: the animated-live action legal family comedy “Coyote vs. Acme.” After this was announced, the internet spiraled into a frenzy, resulting in Warner announcing that they would allow other studios to offer bids for the film instead of banishing it to their archives forever. Now, one year after their marginal success from the similarly almost canned Looney Tunes film “The Day the Earth Blew Up,” Ketchup Entertainment has snagged the completed film and are finally releasing it worldwide. 

This film follows Wile E. Coyote as he hires lazy cartoon injury lawyer Kevin Avery, played by Will Forte (“Clone High,” “The Last Man on Earth”), to sue Acme for the injuries he’s sustained from decades of using their faulty products in an attempt to capture and eat the Road Runner. Alongside Avery’s niece and law intern Paige, played by Lana Condor (“X-Men Apocalypse,” “To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before”), this leads to a massive legal case against Acme and its CEO Foghorn Leghorn, voiced by Eric Bauza (“Looney Tunes Cartoons,” “The Day the Earth Blew Up”), and their defense lawyer Buddy Crane, played by John Cena (“The Suicide Squad,” “Blockers”). 

While that idea might initially seem like it only has enough meat to sustain a short or two, writers Samy Burch (“May December,” “Late Fame”), James Gunn (“Guardians of the Galaxy,” “Superman (2025)”), and Jeremy Slater (“Mortal Kombat II,” “Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire”) do a lot to develop the heart and pathos behind this tale. There’s not only legitimately surprising intrigue behind the events, but there’s a lot of care put into developing Wile’s plight and case. It bobs and weaves in clever ways, and while not the most tightly knit legal drama to grace the silver screen, it's fully committed to breathing life into this world and tale. 

At the end of the day, that’s what gets this effort to the finish line with flying colors: if the heart and care are there, then the quality of the lawsuit and plot don’t even matter that much. They’re still good, but that big beating heart is the reason this project shines. It's still riotously funny as well, keeping the slapstick sharp as well as the general humor of seeing a character like Foghorn Leghorn taking the witness stand. The film also takes clear aim at corporate greed and corruption, placing big business squarely in its crosshairs. While the filmmakers never could have predicted the film being written off by a big studio in the midst of a corporate merger, it is quite telling that a film with this strong of a perspective was initially canned by its corporate overlords. 

Director Dave Green (“Earth to Echo,” “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Out of the Shadows”) clearly cares just as much, and while the film features quite a bit of high-stakes loonacy, it also treats the legal proceedings and surrounding mystery like any other film of its ilk. The blending of live-action and animation is seamless, and while the quality of some of the 3D models pretending to be 2D is suspect, the expressive and detailed animations are always fantastic. There’s quite a bit of medium mixing as well, with cartoons interacting with real objects and vice versa in convincing and fun ways. Steven Price’s (“Suicide Squad,” “Gravity”) musical score mixes typical Tunes motifs with some lightly electronic strings and gets quite playful throughout. A dramatic moment, for example, has the 1812 Overture playing, but with Road Runner’s trademark “beep beep” replacing the cannon sounds. It’s a film that simply looks great and made by people having a ton of fun making it and with a lot of love for these characters. 

Acting against nothing for a film like this is quite the tall order, but Forte is clearly up to the challenge. He’s a comedian’s comedian, and he completely commits to the venture. There’s not a moment he doesn’t take everything as serious as a heart attack, and it lets the film flourish anytime he’s opposite Wile. It's a sort of sincerity that lets the film work as well as it does; yes, it's funny already but the cast playing it so straight is what elevates it. Cena is equally as good, playing up his evil lawyer character to levels that equal the cartoons he’s surrounded by. Condor is a bright spot of overly eager optimism, and she plays well off Forte’s lackadaisical apathy. While Wile may be silent, Bauza gets a lot of space to shine as the new defacto voice for a majority of the Looney Tunes. Rarely do these characters get these kind of intrigue laden monologues or legal proclamations, and his skill as a voice actor is on full display here as he gets to play with the silly and the dramatic. 

There’s something to be said about the underdog nature of the film itself and its long and rocky road to release. It's a victory that it even was released, but for it to be as good as it is makes for an ever better feeling. This is an extremely funny crowd pleaser with a surprising amount of heart and effort put into its plot. Forte is borderline perfect, playing everything completely straight in the midst of the film’s absurdity. It has some roughness around the edges, but nothing diminishes the care and love that clearly exists here for the whole Tune gang and their cartoons. Quite simply, it's one of Wile E. Coyote’s favorite things: dynamite! 4.5/5

Buddy (2026) - Review: Barney & Fiends

 

When flipping through Adult Swim at 1:30 in the morning, you might find yourself greeted by the works of Casper Kelly. A longtime writer for various animated shows for the channel, he eventually began working on surrealist live action horror comedic material, eventually culminating in the short works “Too Many Cooks” and the two “Adult Swim Yule Log” specials. These works are perfect, bite-sized showcases of his skill in turning the mundane into the bizarrely horrific, without losing any humor in the process. Now, after directing a segment of 2025’s “V/H/S/ Halloween” film, he has his first feature length film with the tale of an orange unicorn named “Buddy.” 

It’s Buddy! Everyone’s favorite orange unicorn here to teach you life lessons on how to share, be brave, and get along with all your friends. But something is wrong with Buddy, voiced by Keegan-Michael Key (“Key and Peele,” “Schmigadoon!”). Freddy, played by Delaney Quinn (“If I Had Legs I’d Kick You,” “The Beanie Bubble”), has noticed that some of her friends around the clubhouse have been disappearing, and that Buddy seems to be more and more frustrated. Can she and her backpack Strappy, voiced by Patton Oswalt (“Ratatouille,” “The King of Queens”), stay safe among Buddy’s increasingly concerning behavior? Meanwhile, what does suburban mom Grace, played by Cristin Milioti (“Palm Springs,” “The Penguin”), have to do with all of this? 

If you’re a seasoned horror fan, what Kelly and co-writer Jamie King (“Jessica Jones,” “World’s Best”) have written here won’t blow you away in terms of the plot’s originality. It shares a lot of DNA with other mascot-based horror projects from the past decade, as well as the likes of “The Wizard of Oz” and “IT.” That’s not a problem though, as it provides a solid foundation to build up from, and build they do. The production design is without a doubt the film’s best element. As opposed to other shows or movies that throw a VHS filter over modern footage and call it a day, the many retro sequences of “Buddy” looks like they might actually have been shot in the 1990s. The other big problem they avoid is the over-design of the characters. It’s hard to look at Freddy Fazbear and think any adult actually thought a kid would find him safe. The costumes are perfect here; if you sliced out the film’s most normal moments, you could easily convince anyone that this was a real unthreatening show from the 1990s. 

Key has perfect delivery as he, much like the costumes, avoids becoming too overtly sinister or winking to the audience with his performance. It feels like a legitimate, authentic delivery someone from this era might have given. Quinn absolutely steals the show, with one of the best child actor performances in a long time. Her fear and genuine heart power the film; she is its secret weapon. All of the child actors are fantastic, like Tristan Broders as Oliver and Madison Skyy Polan as Hannah. They go through a veritable odyssey together, and it shows by the end. Milioti, like Quinn, is one of the film’s best elements. While she gets less time to shine compared to the younger cast, she’s nevertheless deeply compelling and serves as the big beating bloody heart at the center. 

The authenticity coming from the production design and the cast end up fueling the film’s sense of unease. By withholding any sense of deliberate horror or off-kilter nature directly, it lets the uncertainty bubble to the surface. There’s no “in your face” moments of Buddy doing drugs or using guns or anything otherwise; it commits to the aesthetic entirely until things go completely wrong. This means that the themes they play with, child actors, toxic positivity, predatory children’s environments, get time to fester instead of bluntly beating the audience over the head. Yet, these elements clearly are not the point; Kelly and King want to make a dark horror comedy, and they succeed in that. The film is quite dry and uneasily funny, mining plenty of humor from the absurdity of the world and the way the scenario is presented. They also avoid giving any direct explanations to a majority of the events, instead letting the confusion and questions bubble up to further add to the film’s unease and mystique. 

If “Buddy” is playing with some plot points and children’s mascot horror tropes that are well-worn by now, Casper Kelly has certainly spruced things up to feel considerably less so. The entire film’s production design and commitment to its atmosphere lifts it above typical costumes horror fare, and the cast deliver the heart needed to make this little adventure something special. This is a tried-and-true midnight movie filled with mystery and unanswered questions and tons of black humor that will delight most and turn off the rest. It’s as much fun as one could expect to have with a guy as cuddly as Buddy! 4/5 

Teenage Sex & Death at Camp Miasma - Review: Psycho Sexual

 

Arguably more than any other genre in the history of cinema, horror has had a complicated relationship with change, both internally and externally. Whether comedic, cosmic, psychological, or fantastical, evolution is a key part of any work of horror. Over the years, there have been plenty of works that have grappled with that relationship, whether in more traditional ways like “Wes Craven’s New Nightmare” or the more abstract ways in the likes of “Beyond the Black Rainbow” or “Crimes of the Future.” Now, fresh off their 2024 A24 hit, writer/director Jane Schoenbrun (“I Saw the TV Glow,” “We’re All Going to the World’s Fair”) has returned to the world of abstract, dreamlike, nostalgic horror-tinged dread with “Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma.”

The film stars Hannah Einbinder (“Hacks,” “Seekers of Infinite Love”) as Kris Williams, an up-and-coming queer independent film director offered the chance to reboot her favorite horror slasher film franchise “Camp Miasma.” In an effort to recontextualize the original film’s story and serial killer Little Death, played by Jack Haven (“I Saw the TV Glow,” “Atypical”), Kris seeks out the film’s original final girl actress, the reclusive Billy Presley, played by Gillian Anderson (“The X-Files,” “Sex Education”). As Kris learns more about Billy, their connection begins to deepen, and the lines between reality and slasher film begin to blur.

Unexpected given the film’s title and premise, Schoenbrun goes full tilt into the realm of campy silliness alongside the bloodshed and self-reflection. Einbinder’s character adores this film series to the point of obsession, knowing filming techniques and facts about each entry, surrounding herself with a comical amount of named candy brands and popcorn. By the time things fully tilt into glorious 1970s grindhouse tributes, the film stakes an identity for itself within the glorious mountainous spurts of blood and needle drops. This isn’t a gratuitous film, rather it uses its camp humor to explore the kind of adoration people have for movies like this, horror films or otherwise.

Einbinder and Anderson turn in some really interesting work, exploring the inner emotions of this pair while also embracing the sillier elements inherent in their depictions. Einbinder avoids complete parody in her depiction of a typical modern day indie director, viewing film purely academically within the lens of what would be considered acceptable or not. It’s a slyly silly, but completely confident kind of performance that establishes the character as an almost complete joke before letting Einbinder’s talents win you over. Anderson is playing something like an askew version of the fem fatale from works like “Sunset Boulevard,” playing things up to camp levels without creating a caricature. Both work together fantastically, perfectly in sync with Schoenbrun’s vision, as if they created a hive mind during rehearsals.

Schoenbrun clearly has a lot on their mind and knows exactly what they want to deliver, and a larger budget than before means that they and cinematographer Eric Yue (“I Saw the TV Glow,” “Atropia”) get to work with a team to craft that vision in a way that resembles a half-remembered cinema-soaked dream. Matte paintings litter the backgrounds, as do actual repurposed candy litter. It’s a film obsessed with the artifice of movies, be it CGI and practical gore or clearly fake weather affects. It can be jarring at first glance, but the film itself is built to teach you how to watch it. Schoenbrun slowly introduces you to the film’s visual language and the way it elaborates on stimulus, eventually culminating in a wonderful third-act full of deliberately fake looking lighting, imagery, and colors. Even the costume donned by Little Death, a mixture between a diving suit and an air-conditioning vent, is clearly deliberately fake, but so well constructed and fascinating that it becomes instantly iconic. Alex G’s (“I Saw the TV Glow,” “We’re All Going to the World’s Fair”) score matches this deliberate visual aesthetic with a musical identity that’s equally as distinct and obvious and engrossing.

For a film as obsessed with the mechanics of horror films, film in general, and why we ourselves become obsessed with these works of art, this is a remarkably kind film. While not without its own brutality, there are moments where it allows Little Death and Kris so much vulnerability and space to explore what has happened to them and what it means to find yourself through media, transgressive or otherwise. It’s a film that adores horror but is also directly pushing against so many of the genre’s worst instincts to comment on them: a genre so steeped in fear of what’s different is embraced by a queer filmmaker and a genre where sex is a sign of death used to help a character come to terms with a comfort in sex and sexuality. Anyone aware of where the term “Little Death” comes from should be well aware of the material Schoenbrun is tackling here. It might seem too daunting of a subject to tackle in a film under two hours, but the breezy direction and camp nature of the film’s sense of self help keep things digestible and engaging. At the very least, Schoenbrun is able to boil these ideas down to a simple thought: why do we love what hurts us, and what can that danger teach us about ourselves?

It’s truly difficult to describe whether a film like “Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma” will be for you without simply knowing it. There’s a specific wavelength that Jane Schoenbrun’s latest queer, nostalgic, horror think piece is operating on. It’s easy to love from a purely visual and aesthetic point of view, but it offers so much to chew on beyond that. Its two leads are perfectly cast and in sync with the vision of this work. You’re not going to see many films like this for quite a while, if truly ever. But maybe that’s the best thing about it. Arguably more than any nostalgia-obsessed director currently working, Schoenbrun understands what the deep pit of genre love is for any cinephile: it’s a hole at the bottom of the lake where the movies come from. 5/5

The End of Oak Street - Review: Jurassic Block

Despite not ever reaching the same cultural significance seen with the release of the original "Jurassic Park" film in 1993, from the moment dinosaurs lumbered onto the silver screen, they've never left. When CGI became more prominent, they've grown to greater heights and more bountiful box office numbers, with varying critical results. Now Writer/Director David Robert Mitchell ("It Follows," "Under the Silver Lake") is making his move from low-budget indie hits to big studio blockbusters with his own take on the dinosaur film with "The End of Oak Street."

Set in 1982, the film follows a small-town family living on Oak Street consisting of mother and aspiring novelist Denise, played by Anne Hathaway ("The Devil Wears Prada," "Interstellar"), dad Greg, played by Ewan McGregor ("Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith," "Moulin Rouge!"), son Brian, played by Christian Convery ("The Monkey," "Sweet Tooth"), and daughter Audrey, played by Maisy Stella ("Nashville," "My Old Ass"). One night during a thunderstorm, the family finds their entire suburb mysteriously transported into a prehistoric jungle populated by all manner of dinosaurs and other million-year-old creatures. The family must stick together to survive their new environment and somehow find a way back to their own time.

This is a crowd-pleasing blockbuster plain and simple, but Mitchell spends ample time building tension and character stakes throughout the first act. He borders on satirizing American nuclear family culture, but never goes so far, instead settling on establishing our four family members for some easy arcs by the time things wrap up. There's definitely a lot of Spielbergian elements wrapped in here, from the nuclear family on the rocks to the dinosaurs to the kids on bikes. It uses these elements more as landmarks rather than letting the entire film be overwhelmed by their nostalgia. Suffice it to say, if you don't know the difference between a Goonie or a Gremlin, you'll still have a good time here.

McGregor is doing some fun work here essentially offering both an earnest and slightly comedic portrayal of the typical American suburban dad, but Hathaway is the one turning in some really great subtle work that branches a bit beyond the written material. It's a testament to her skills as an actress that she can do a lot with just a few looks even in more genre heavy fare like this. Convery and Stella get in a lot of good sibling material here, with Mitchell's script avoiding a lot of annoying tropes of sibling hatred. This is a close-knit family that obviously loves each other, despite their rocky nature, and it comes across fully through the lead quartet's performances. The surrounding supporting cast is full of a few character actors serving themselves up as dino fodder, and they each get their own little moment to shine.

After the town blips into the past, Mitchell's vision of this film becomes quite clear: it's tense and hugely character driven. There's a lot of comparisons one could make to the original "Jurassic Park" in that way, as he plays with chase sequences and has quite a few hide and seek moments. Mitchell is a director that understands presence and tension, and the film is a great example of that. There's no point where hordes of dinos are thrown at the screen; its methodical and disciplines in its scares and action, letting things boil over to maximize the potential fear. This is still a PG-13 four-quadrant mass appeal blockbuster, so things never reach the pure fear levels of Mitchell's breakout success "It Follows," but there is a true sense that anyone is on the chopping block at any moment.  

It's a gorgeous film as well, with Mitchell and cinematographer Michael Gioulakis ("It Follows," "Us") taking great advantage of their small-town suburban locations. There's a physicality to the adventure, utilizing plenty of average American homes and cul-de-sacs juxtaposed against the harsh prehistoric plants and animals, to create an arresting locale. While the lumbering dinos are all CGI, there's a lot of built out practical sets that provide a genuine tactile sense of place. Helping to add to the tension, the film even populates many of the locations with the remnants of unfortunate dinosaur encounters. One sequence that has a pair of characters hiding in a car features the dead body of the driver in the front seat. It isn't gratuitous or used as a jump scare. Just an example of the fantastic window dressing to make this horrifying adventure scenario pop to life. Michael Giacchino's ("Ratatouille," "The Incredibles") score also is clearly adjacent to the works of John Williams from those Spielbergian films, but injects enough of his trademark musical flourishes to set it apart.

David Robert Mitchell's latest film is clearly a tribute to family and parental leadership more than anything else, and he manages to wrap that tribute in a great sense of adventure and tension. Not too scary to not be for the whole family, but not devoid of tension either, this is a fantastic end of summer blockbuster that not only makes dinosaurs thrilling again but just provides a good old fashioned adventure flick. A great quartet of performances are set up against a gorgeous looking romp through suburban 1980s America, just with more dinosaurs than you're used to. It puts virtually every "Jurassic Park/World" film after the original to shame, but even outside of that, this is a fun and tense bit of popcorn filmmaking that'll leave you satisfied. 4/5

Tony (2026) - Review: My Dinner With Anthony

When most people write their memoirs, they might be kinder to themselves than someone writing about them would be. Or at the very least give their younger selves the benefit of hindsight. Anthony Bourdain’s memoir “Kitchen Confidential” has the beloved chef and world traveler viewing his younger self less kindly, most famously saying “I was, to be frank, a spoiled, miserable, narcissistic, self-destructive, and thoughtless young lout, and badly in need of a good ass-kicking.” That sentence seems to be what “Tony” is all about, and what co-writer/director Matt Johnson (“Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie,” “Blackberry”) has latched onto in his portrayal of the man.

Set in the summer of 1975, the film follows 19-year-old Anthony Bourdain, played by Dominic Sessa (“The Holdovers,” “Now You See Me: Now You Don't”), who decides to run away from home to Provincetown, Massachusetts to follow his high school crush Nancy, played by Emilia Jones (“CODA,” “Task”). Soon after arriving, he finds himself out of money and appeals to the head Chef, played by Antonio Banderas (“The Mask of Zorro,” “Puss in Boots”), of local restaurant The Flagship to sleep on his back porch. While working as a dishwasher in the Flagship, he begins to befriend the kitchen staff, including Sal, played by Leo Woodall (“Tuner,” “One Day”), and discovers a love of cooking all while attempting to romance Nancy.

Most importantly, as opposed to other films in the biopic genre, “Tony” is not a film looking to encompass all of Bourdain’s life or ethos into a two-hour movie. Rather, it takes the smarter approach in capturing who he was before and during the summer that set him on the path to become the person he was known for being. It results in a more natural and calm film, one that maintains its breezy summertime nature throughout. It feels like someone telling you the story of their past summer, rather than having a life summarized at you. Sure, some of it is fictionalized, some characters are amalgamations of multiple people, and it might have some conveniences, but the script from Johnson, Matthew Miller (“Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie,” “Blackberry”), Lou Howe (“Gabriel”), and Todd Bartels is all in the service of capturing who Tony was. And in that it wildly succeeds. Arguably its best aspect though is the simple commitment to the strength of the story and character work; if you have no idea who Anthony Bourdain is, your enjoyment of the story won’t change.

Sessa is virtually perfect. As you stick with him and slowly watch him turn from a, to quote Bourdain, “thoughtless young lout” into someone who cares more about the people around him, it turns this performance into a truly special little piece of acting. It feels natural, avoiding any showy monologues or big flourishes, instead drilling into the humanity at the core of a man like this. Banderas is also fantastic, with a grounded and gravely role that reminds us how good he can be when in a drama as straight forward as this. That doesn’t downplay the work he’s doing here, and he and Sessa are incredible together. Jones is great and effortlessly charming as Nancy, and she lights up the screen whenever she appears. Woodall’s role is more minor, but he punctuates the film whenever he appears, holding himself up as a saltier, twisted mirror to Tony and his potential future.

The easy, breezy Provincetown summertime season is perfectly captured by Michael Bauman’s (“One Battle After Another,” “Phantom Thread”) cinematography and eye for sunsets. The picturesque Massachusetts seaside town is often given a warm golden haze as Tony continues his adventure. The musical score by Jay McCarroll (“Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie,” “Blackberry”) is wonderfully understated and melancholic, underscoring the beach landscapes with a prevailing sense of bittersweetness. Really, at the core of this film is that sense of bittersweetness; you’re watching a man realizing what he wants to do for the rest of his life, which will inevitably lead him away from everything else around him. That journey is a melancholic and bittersweet one, but never without joy at its core.

It's easy to see why a director as idiosyncratic as Matt Johnson would be attracted to a project like this. Not only does he have a penchant for movies about scrappy men making it up as they go along, but this is also far less of a traditional biopic than one might expect. Thanks to its fantastic cast, its summertime haze and locale, and its focus on exhibiting the vibes of the man and this tale rather than summarizing the person, it makes this melancholic little slice of sea-side life a pure cinematic treat. 5/5

One Night Only - Review: Getting Off Easy

 

The one sentence pitch idea is one of the oldest in Hollywood. While not a requirement, most great scripts can be summed up in one sentence or less. Toys come to life when their owners aren't around. A history professor finds artefacts for museums. A space orphan joins the resistance against a fascist empire. All classic film ideas, summed up in just one sentence. However, that can also be a hinderance, where the basic premise ends up creating more confusion and questions than satisfying plot developments. From the moment the trailer dropped, that was certainly the case for Will Gluck's ("Easy A," "Anyone But You") latest film "One Night Only."

Three years prior to the start of the film, a legal mandate was passed by the U.S. government outlawing sex between unmarried people. Set on the one night a year the mandate is lifted, the film follows Allie, played by Monica Barbaro ("A Complete Unknown," "Top Gun: Maverick"), a singer looking for her perfect match in the chaos, and Owen, played by Callum Turner ("Queen & Country," "Eternity"), a pizza shop owner who finds himself single on the night after his girlfriend Malika, played by Maya Hawke ("Stranger Things," "Inside Out 2"), breaks up with him.

The premise is certainly an intriguing one, and writer Travis Barun does manage to build a fair amount of the world that would pass this mandate. There are throwaways lines and advertisements that serve to explain the premise and the state of the world that would have passed it, and he weaves it into the film in a remarkably sturdy fashion. It never feels clunky or shoved in without reason. Given the New York setting, there are plenty of billboards, subway ads, and storefronts customized for this premise. It straddles the line between being overt product placement and clever winks given that, of course companies like Red Bull or Duolingo would actually make custom ads for this night if such a thing did exist.

However, those explanations are ironically an issue. While tidbits are given, the premise itself remains so intriguing that it lingers in between the typical romantic comedy scenes. Nothing about the romantic or comedic elements is stronger than that premise, so while it might be cute to watch Allie and Owen fawn over each other or banter back and forth, that material never overpowers the surrounding premise. It leaves you with more questions than answers and distracts from the characters. Weirdly, if less explanations were given, just a few lines and then treated as normal, it would likely be less jarring.

Gluck also plays everything here with far too straight an edge. There's no fun being had between the sincere romantic moments. A premise like this is ripe for satire or parody, and in the hands of someone like David Wain or Christopher Guest, it could work as both a rom-com and a sharp satire. But Gluck just tones everything too far down, playing it all straight with no winks or nods at the absurdity of the situation. It certainly doesn't have to crank up the silliness but given the multiple inspired and hilarious moments early on, such as a city-wide chase to find one last condom, it's shocking how blandly it all ends. Not only that, for a film about the entire country waiting until one night a year for sex, it is remarkably puritanical and chaste. Not every film needs to be as gratuitous as "Showgirls," but apart from some salty language and a comedic butt shot, it could pass for PG-13.

Barbaro and Turner do certainly have chemistry and charm aplenty, and they have a crackling saltiness as they butt heads throughout the film. Turner seems refreshingly completely willing to make himself the target of many jokes despite his pretty face, and Barbaro has a miniature arc of letting go of her ideas of love on this chaotic night. They're both good together, making for some great classical rom-com charms. The supporting cast is full of sex-crazed weirdos dotting their paths, including Owen's mother Linda and her partner Rick, played by Molly Ringwald ("Sixteen Candles," "The Breakfast Club") and LeVar Burton ("Star Trek: The Next Generation," "Roots") respectively. None of them particularly stand out, but they're fine as window dressing around Allie and Owen's adventure.

"One Night Only" doesn't do anything particularly wrong within the rom-com genre, but the one thing it does the best, its unique premise, ends up hindering it the most. This is a film that could go either way: it could be a biting and smart social satire or a looser, sexier, sillier rom-com. What it ends up trying to do is have its cake and eat it too, dressing its premise up with a charming pair of leads and cliche rom-com bits that are only marginally effective. The last thing you want after a late-night fling to be left with more questions than answers. 2.5/5