The Overnight (2015)
Written and directed by Patrick Brice
Produced by Naomi Scott, Maya Ferrara, Jay Duplass, Mark Duplass, Adam Scott
Starring Adam Scott, Taylor Schilling, Jason Schwartzman, Judith Godrèche, R.J. Hermes, Max Moritt
A budding friendship between their sons (Hermes, Moritt) introduces a married pair (Scott, Schilling) anxiously resettled in Los Angeles to another (Schwartzman, Godrèche) warm, wealthy and weird who invite the transplants to their home. After their kids are abed, the commonplace couple discover just how bizarrely talented, generous and uninhibited their hosts are, and they’re paradoxically pushed to party beyond their zones of comfort, and into new ones.
Penned from the perspective of Scott’s and Schilling’s spouses, Brice’s story is among the most benignly bawdy you’re likely to see, sweet in intention if too Rabelaisian for some viewers. For everyone else, his raveling, disrobing revelations underscored by gamey tiffs and coquetry are flurryingly fun.
As evidenced in Creep and Creep 2, Brice skillfully supervises his productions on tight budgets and schedules, helming this one over the course of 12 days (and nights), largely at Adam Carolla’s ritzy house. His workmanship is respectably transparent in service to his cast.
Photic balance and colorful splashes amid otherwise muted tones distinguish John Guleserian’s camerawork.
Christopher Donlon times alternations of shots with conversational flow, if twice or thrice too often.
Schwartzman’s eccentric entrepreneur (who would’ve been a fit role for either of the co-producing Duplass brothers) is easy to overplay, but his effervescence is kept in confident check. As protean as any thalian thespian working, Scott interprets his insecure husband as an interchangeably restless and relaxed complement to Schilling’s adoring wife, who betrays little lusts and ruffles with droll niceties. Now an old hand as an inveterate flirt, Godrèche tempers her sensuality with a warmth shared by her co-stars.
As in other projects by the Duplasses, Julian Wass has a perkily synthesized tune for nearly every tone.
Brice’s highlights are surprises that would be undone by explication, one of which is foretokened by an acrylically painted motif and the movie’s theatrical poster.
Scott and Schilling seem stiltedly self-conscious in their second scene together.
If most bagatelles were written and acted this well, many of us would never leave our couches.
Recommended for a double feature paired with Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice.