Features > Movie Reviews > Last Night…

That’s the question proposed by Iranian-American Massy Tadjedin in her first film as writer-director.

It’s a question ideally suited to the philosophical farceur, say, Woody Allen in his prime, or even Neil Simon in his. Tadjedin (whose only previous writing credits are The Jacket and Leo) is not that way inclined. Her instincts lean more towards the gently ironic but above all serious emotional handwringers that the French excel at. Indeed, watching the sharp, elliptical opening scenes of Last Night, I was strongly reminded of Claire Denis’ even more concentrated anatomy of a one-night stand, Vendredi Soir (Friday Night).

Keira Knightley is Joanna, a freelance journalist in New York. Sam Worthington is her husband Michael. They’re a couple of years into their marriage, but seven years into each other, save for a brief break in the middle. It was then that Jo had a passionate affair with Alex (Guillaume Canet), though it petered out when her time in Paris came to an end.

In the first place though, Jo is the one who worries that Michael is having an affair. It’s not just that his colleague Laura (Eva Mendes) is a knockout, and touchy-feely too, it’s more concerning that somehow Michael hasn’t ever mentioned her, and they’ve been working side by side for months now.

Returning from the party (Tadjedin cleverly slices and dices the chronology a bit) Jo is tipsy and jealous, while Michael can only protest his innocence. They make their peace, but the next day he heads off on a business trip with Laura, leaving Jo on her lonesome in the big city. Which is when she bumps into Alex…

The film then splits into two roughly equal parts. In one, we see Michael and Laura flirting after their business meeting. She’s the more active party, he’s the kind of date who says no but keeps on nodding yes.

Meanwhile Jo agrees to go out for dinner with her old flame, though she’s a bit taken aback when it turns out he’s bringing his publisher along (Griffin Dunne from An American Werewolf in London and After Hours).

It’s a clever conceit but the Michael/Laura story is too conventional to hold our interest. The teasing ambiguities of the Jo/Alex relationship – where neither one of them is quite sure how strongly the other one feels or how far they might go – is richer territory, and has more dramatic texture. It may have been a mistake, though, for Tadjedin to keep the sexual chemistry simmering without ever bringing it to the boil.

In the end, ironically, it’s hard to feel passionate about this cool, intelligent drama. It’s smart and truthful but somehow not quite so incisive or funny or moving as it should be. Perhaps it will seem a better fit for home viewing, where it might inspire some uncomfortable conversations between partners. That said, the ending is a real treat, beautifully judged, and almost worth the price of a ticket on its own.