ONE NIGHT STAND
A film review by David N. Butterworth
Copyright 1997 David N. Butterworth
Rating: ** (Maltin scale)
"One Night Stand" is a slight, puerile, and rather pointless tale of infidelity that tries too hard to be deep. The performances are all fine; it's the writer, composer, and director--Mike Figgis all--that spoil the show.
Successful television commercial director Max Carlyle (Wesley Snipes) is in New York visiting an old friend who's dying of AIDS. He misses his flight back to L.A., however, for a variety of reasons--a leaky pen in his shirt pocket, bad traffic, and a more-than-passing interest in an intriguing blonde called Karen (Nastassja Kinski), with whom he winds up spending the night.
Max returns to L.A. where his petite, fun-loving wife Mimi (played by Ming-Na Wen) tells him she misses her "Mr. Pufnstuf," referring to Max's (recently used) "equipment." Once home, the family dog acts all funny around him (Max didn't *shower*!?) causing Mimi to comment, half in jest and half in fear, "maybe he smells another bitch on you?" Charming.
A year later, Max and Karen bump (and grind) into each other again, triggering a chain of coincidences that result in the film's ridiculous (double!) climax. (Talking of entendres, there are plenty of unintentional laughs in "One Night Stand" but deliberate attempts at humor fall completely flat.)
Stylistically, "One Night Stand" is awkward. Scenes frequently fade to black, not at the end but throughout, and often. It's a sophomoric technique that damages the film's tempo: scenes that appear to have ended continue, and those that require resolution have gone by the wayside when the image returns. Having Snipes talk directly to camera in the opening sequence sets an inappropriate expectation also, especially as the technique is never used again (one frustrated sigh to camera notwithstanding).
Similarly, Figgis slaps together a schizophrenic score--jazz doodlings, solo piano pieces, melancholic strings, and flighty vocal passages--as if this multifaceted filmmaker can't decide what mood he wants to establish.
The crisis at the center of the film is troubling as it elevates "One Night Stand" to a level of "significance" it doesn't deserve. While Robert Downey Jr. is appropriately cast and affecting as Charlie, Max's HIV-positive friend, it's uncomfortable and decidedly tacky watching Max and Karen groping at each other while Charlie's life ticks away. Kyle MacLachlan, as Charlie's brother Vernon, doesn't have much to do (unless doubling for Matthew Perry was a script requirement), and Julian Sands and Amanda Donohoe, both often extreme performers, are wasted in minor roles.
Nothing makes a whole lot of sense. Max has a sexy wife so we should believe he's looking for more than just physical gratification? Mimi's dinner conversation might not be all that stimulating--Max tries to stir things up by suggesting, for example, that the California mudslides were started deliberately--but he doesn't engage Karen in any kind of intellectual discussion either.
While "One Night Stand" isn't nearly as Penthouse Forum as Figgis' previous film, the critically-acclaimed boozefest "Leaving Las Vegas," it does continue his penchant for seedy situations in which his lead actresses slip in and out of flimsy outfits. After a couple of wet dreams in a row, Mike Figgis might want to consider refocusing his efforts in a less adolescent direction--one that might provide him with the depth he seeks.
-- David N. Butterworth dnb@mail.med.upenn.edu
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