My review was written in April 1993 after watching the film in a Times Square screening room.
A quintessential New York movie, "The Night We Never Met" takes a novel premise and develops it in fits and starts. A guaranteed crowd-pleaser on its home turf, episodic effort could attract a hip audience elsewhere as well.
Debuting filmmaker Warren Leight has come up with an offbeat notion: time-sharing a Greenwich Village apartment by days of the week (practice exists, but is hardly a trend). Hissable yuppie Kevin Anderson is behind the scheme, wanting two nights out a week with his poker-playing, football watching buddies while living with patrician fiancee Justine Bateman.
One customer is Matthew Broderick, moping over losing his performance artist girlfriend Pastel (Jeanne Tripplehorn, spoofing a familiar downtown type). Broderick is sharing a flat with too many noisy, vulgar roommates and needs a crash pad.
Third tenant is frustrated housewife Annabella Sciorra, who uses it to get away from her dense husband (Michael Mantell) and spend a couple of days painting.
This format allows Leight to develop some surefire situation comedy. The three tenants never met but are aware of their differing habits: boorish slob Anderson leaves a mess each time; Sciorra fixes up pretty curtains and furnishings; Broderick is a gourmet cook (he works in an upscale food store) who provides fabulous leftovers for Sciorra.
Plot is set in motion when Anderson innocently switches one of his designated days with Broderick but doesn't update the posted schedule, causing Sciorra to confuse the two guys, swearing at Broderick over the phone for leaving a mess and fixing her sights on a romance with "dream guy" Anderson.
Finale has the threesome of nearly 30-year-olds finally meeting in the apartment, but not until after Sciorra has slept with Anderson, almost ruining her life, and further complications when (predictably) fiancee Batemean half-learns of the apartment and assumes Anderson carries on all week long.
Wonderfully atmospheric use of New York locations and familiar characters bring "Night" to life. Unfortunately, there are many scenes, particularly those of Anderson and his obnoxious pals, which kill time and detract from the romantic leads. Ultimately it's not really as much an ensemble piece as a film of alternating casts or vignettes.
Broderick, making a notable screen comeback after his laughless "Out on a Limb" fiasco, is utterly convincing as the hapless hero. Sciorra immediately garners sympathy, giving the film some heart and depth beyond the surface yocks. Anderson throws himself whole-heartedly into his stereotyped assignment.
Garry Shandling pops up uncredited as a wiseguy patient of dental hygienist Sciorra, while Christine Baranski is perfect as Sciorra's best friend.
Lensin gby John Thomas (who photographed Gotham-set "Metropolitan") is sharp and Evan Lurie's sprightly score is a definite asset.
A quintessential New York movie, "The Night We Never Met" takes a novel premise and develops it in fits and starts. A guaranteed crowd-pleaser on its home turf, episodic effort could attract a hip audience elsewhere as well.
Debuting filmmaker Warren Leight has come up with an offbeat notion: time-sharing a Greenwich Village apartment by days of the week (practice exists, but is hardly a trend). Hissable yuppie Kevin Anderson is behind the scheme, wanting two nights out a week with his poker-playing, football watching buddies while living with patrician fiancee Justine Bateman.
One customer is Matthew Broderick, moping over losing his performance artist girlfriend Pastel (Jeanne Tripplehorn, spoofing a familiar downtown type). Broderick is sharing a flat with too many noisy, vulgar roommates and needs a crash pad.
Third tenant is frustrated housewife Annabella Sciorra, who uses it to get away from her dense husband (Michael Mantell) and spend a couple of days painting.
This format allows Leight to develop some surefire situation comedy. The three tenants never met but are aware of their differing habits: boorish slob Anderson leaves a mess each time; Sciorra fixes up pretty curtains and furnishings; Broderick is a gourmet cook (he works in an upscale food store) who provides fabulous leftovers for Sciorra.
Plot is set in motion when Anderson innocently switches one of his designated days with Broderick but doesn't update the posted schedule, causing Sciorra to confuse the two guys, swearing at Broderick over the phone for leaving a mess and fixing her sights on a romance with "dream guy" Anderson.
Finale has the threesome of nearly 30-year-olds finally meeting in the apartment, but not until after Sciorra has slept with Anderson, almost ruining her life, and further complications when (predictably) fiancee Batemean half-learns of the apartment and assumes Anderson carries on all week long.
Wonderfully atmospheric use of New York locations and familiar characters bring "Night" to life. Unfortunately, there are many scenes, particularly those of Anderson and his obnoxious pals, which kill time and detract from the romantic leads. Ultimately it's not really as much an ensemble piece as a film of alternating casts or vignettes.
Broderick, making a notable screen comeback after his laughless "Out on a Limb" fiasco, is utterly convincing as the hapless hero. Sciorra immediately garners sympathy, giving the film some heart and depth beyond the surface yocks. Anderson throws himself whole-heartedly into his stereotyped assignment.
Garry Shandling pops up uncredited as a wiseguy patient of dental hygienist Sciorra, while Christine Baranski is perfect as Sciorra's best friend.
Lensin gby John Thomas (who photographed Gotham-set "Metropolitan") is sharp and Evan Lurie's sprightly score is a definite asset.