“Sex sells,” the saying goes. So, in theory, a movie that revolves around having sex should do okay for itself at the box office, especially if that movie is from director Will Gluck. His previous romcom, “Anyone but You” (2023), was hailed by some critics as the commercial comeback of the romcom.
And yet, “One Night Only” (2026), Gluck’s new romcom, bombed in theaters. Why did this happen? The reason is simple: “One Night Only” is as sexless as a dentist’s office.
The film is set in a dystopian New York City of the near future, where sex outside of marriage has been made illegal in America except for one night a year (dubbed “The One Night”). Basically, it’s “The Purge” (2013) but with sex. Owen (Callum Turner), a pizza shop owner, plans to propose to his girlfriend Malika (Maya Hawke) on The One Night. Meanwhile, Allie (Monica Barbaro), a cover singer for commercials, and her friend Jacinta (King Princess) want to find men they truly connect with. Malika and Jacinta end up going off course, leaving Owen and Allie to fend for themselves. Meet-cutes and hijinks ensue.
The premise of “One Night Only” is absurd, but the film squashes it down into a strangely mundane world. And the more “One Night Only” explains itself, the more trouble it gets into. The no-sex rule is explained to be an initiative implemented by a conservative government as a possible solution to the spread of STDs; all single people are fitted with biosensors that can tell if you’re having sex based on physical signals. It’s like Gluck is trying to mangle screenwriter Travis Braun’s idea into making sense. The worldbuilding is an unconvincing mish-mash of dystopian, casual and quirky that comes back around to bland.
And then there’s the issue of Allie and Owen’s chemistry. Their interactions are pleasant, but there’s no real passion underpinning them. Allie is awkward, Owen is mildly charming. Together, they’re nice people but not at all interesting. “One Night Only” tries to fall back on the absurdity of its premise to make the couple feel irreverent, but it doesn’t work. Allie and Owen are the film equivalent of those faceless drawings that are so popular on modern romance novel covers — blanks we’re supposed to project ourselves onto, which really just leave us staring at a void.
Because it is set in a dystopian world, “One Night Only” must have social or political commentary by default. It positions itself as a send-up of conservative values and hook-up and dating app culture at the same time; however, by walking this line, it says nothing about either. Allie and Owen are supposed to be the true romance that triumphs over the controlling government and the carnal chaos of The One Night, but since their dynamic is inoffensive at best, again, nothing is said.
One might imagine that The One Night in New York means a huge, rather grotesque orgy. But in the world of “One Night Only,” people having sex on the street looks like a sterile act — there’s no sweat, grit or grime at all. It’s another result of the film’s general emptiness — even sex can’t shake the corporate-crawlies. And for some inexplicable reason, condoms seem to be the only form of birth control available to the public. The goose chase that Allie and Owen go on for the last condom in New York might as well be replaced with a billboard for Trojan.
Another part of the dystopia is the ever-presence of advertisements — a reality echoed in Allie’s job as an ad singer. So there is also, hypothetically, an anti-corporate message in the film. But because “One Night Only” does not provide commentary on its own reality beyond a shrug of the shoulders, it falls under the umbrella of the same corporate slop it’s trying to deconstruct.
In the finale, Owen goes running out looking for Allie, finding her inside a red lighthouse. They decide not to have sex for another year, and then get roped in as background dancers in the commercial being filmed outside the lighthouse. Finally, “One Night Only” is being explicit about the fact that it has more in common with an ad for Skyrizi than it does with “When Harry Met Sally” (1989). But if “One Night Only” is an ad, then what is it advertising? Waiting for marriage? Condoms?
Gluck has certainly rejected the pornographic “Fifty Shades of Grey” (2015) or “365 Days” (2020) approach to on-screen sex and romance with “One Night Only.” On paper, that sounds like a step in the right direction for restoring us to the romcom heyday of the 90s and 2000s. But Gluck has gone so far in the opposite direction that the result is completely detached from reality. He has made something in the shape of a romcom, but since it is neither sexual nor romantic nor funny, it’s just uncanny. You can mine real meaning out of “One Night Only” by viewing it not as a romcom, but as a prophecy of what happens when humanity is removed from the equation of storytelling.
