Web posted at: 7:49 p.m. EST (0049 GMT)
From Reviewer Paul Tatara
(CNN) -- If it had been more judicially-edited and revolved around a plot that was slightly more complex than a well-written sitcom, I would be hailing Mike Figgis' "One Night Stand" as one of the three or four best movies of the year. As it is, though, Figgis (who hit it big a couple years back with "Leaving Las Vegas," a film I thoroughly despised) has basically established a broad playing field upon which Wesley Snipes, Robert Downey Jr., and Nastassja Kinski are encouraged to give the best performances of their respective careers.
"One Night Stand" is still worth watching, despite the fact that it is wandering and nearly uneventful. And if you're a fan of any one of these performers, you should see it, pronto.
The plot is so simple it almost sounds like you're leaving something out when you describe it. Snipes plays Max, a successful TV commercial director, who, while working in New York, has a heatedly passionate one-night stand with a beautiful, kind-hearted stranger (Kinski, blossoming in her late-30's.) Max is also visiting his best friend, Charlie (the absolutely brilliant Downey), a gay performance artist who's been diagnosed as HIV-positive.
After a quick conversation with his friend, and the not-so-quick quickie (I'll be getting to that), Max heads back to his wife (Ming-Na Wen of "The Single Guy") and two loving children in L.A. A year later, when Charlie is in the hospital with full-blown AIDS, Max returns to New York to find out that Charlie's brother (Kyle MacLachlan) is married to ... drum roll, please ... the beautiful stranger! That sounds juicy enough, I suppose, but guess what happens then? Not much of anything, that's what.
It's really hard to figure out what Figgis was trying to accomplish considering the structure of this thing. To begin with (quite literally, as it's the first thing in the film) Snipes' character addresses the camera, telling the audience about his relationship with Charlie, and how they drifted apart for several years after a huge argument. Then this device is completely dispensed with for the rest of the movie.
This "Annie Hall" talking-to-the-camera stuff is always a little iffy, and using it pointlessly as the introduction to an otherwise realistic film suggests that maybe Figgis didn't know exactly what he wanted to accomplish with his story. Or else there was so much rewriting going on he was grasping. Either way, there's no call for it.
The interplay between the Snipes and Kinski characters is charming, tentative, and thoroughly believable. I appreciate that Figgis didn't rush their eventual collapse into each other's arms. However, there's a great deal of superfluous conversation, and a "date" that they go on does just that -- it goes on. We have to sit through them watching an entire song being performed by a string quartet, then they ramble through the East Village while walking back to the hotel, and wind up getting mugged in an Astor Place parking lot. (A very safe area, by the way, for those of you who believe the war-zone mentality displayed towards New York in the movies.)
The terror of the mugging is what drives them together later that evening, but, by the time they're finally going at it, it's like you've actually gone on a date with Wesley Snipes and Nastassja Kinski. I felt like I'd won some kind of contest in "Tiger Beat" magazine. Then Max flies back to L.A. and you get 5 or 6 minutes of the family dog embarrassingly trying to sniff his master's crotch because he's picking up the woman's scent. (Evidently it didn't occur to Max to take a shower before getting on the plane in the morning.)
I was really distressed at this point because Snipes and Kinski are so marvelous. Their scenes together are understated, but you can see their mutual longing for each other growing by the minute. I was going crazy, though, trying to cope with the laconic storytelling. Then, when Max returns to New York for Charlie's hospital bed vigil, Downey grabs the film by the collar and shakes it back to life ... even as his character is experiencing a drawn-out, often painful-to-watch, death.
I've said that in order for a film dealing with AIDS to work, the pain of the victim's final exit should never, ever be trivialized. Though a lot of people obviously want to ignore it, AIDS is the modern equivalent of the black plague, and Tom Hanks keeling over at just the right dramatic moment in a crowded courtroom simply doesn't cut it, regardless of the good intentions of the people involved. That's not a problem with "One Night Stand," and it may make it a little difficult for some audiences to take.
As I've already mentioned, Downey's performance is a revelation, completely void of the sort of pathos that usually mar these stories. You can't avoid a little bit of angelic drum-beating when a force of nature character is dying, but Downey has moments that undercut the tragedy with wicked, knowing comedy.
The point when he wakes from a wheezing, sweating sleep to see his best friend passionately embracing and kissing his sister-in-law is priceless. It takes a wildly-talented actor to pull off a hilarious double-take while dying in a hospital bed and wearing an oxygen mask, but Downey manages it magnificently.
The developments in the third act, during which everything falls into neat little bundles in a couple of poor scenes, are so convenient you almost have to laugh at them.
Though it was often a chore, I'm glad I saw "One Night Stand." It's possible that Figgis can now proceed to make a truly great film. He's certainly moved beyond the self-pitying histrionics of "Leaving Las Vegas," and the good stuff in this one is real good stuff. I'll be waiting and hoping.
"One Night Stand" is sexually-oriented in nearly all of its scenes, but a lot them consist of endless blabbing about it, rather than actually doing it. Some nudity and quite a bit of profanity. Downey's performance is often quite harrowing. Rated R. 103 minutes.
