That was nuts what happened in there.

Give me a second - carry the three - got it. I ran the numbers and while the math is good, the result is not. My wife and I have one couple we regularly spend time with. We've flirted (wrong word) with a few others, but they've all been, more or less, one-and-dones. A dinner. Maybe some...bowling (once)? Sure. But never the feeling of we should do that again.

And ever since our kids were born, outside of a wedding or two - any get together we've ever mustered, has always had children present. Ours and theirs. The kids have fun, which is great. The adults...not as/so much.

But imagine the fun we could have if they weren't around?

That's not what you think it is.

Certainly nothing like what's featured in 2015's The Overnight, a relentlessly shocking and awkward (shockward?) comedy from Patrick Brice (uh, the dude responsible for Creep [review]). Running a scant 70+ minutes, this cringe-fest about making new friends as a grownup might make you reconsider your next evening among adults, in addition to your own policy on posing for a portrait.

Alex and Emily, with their young son RJ, have recently relocated to sunny Los Angeles. While Emily settles into her new office job, Alex is doing the stay-at-home dad thing for awhile. It's a sweet gig, sure, but not when you (and your son) don't know anybody in your new neighborhood.

Begrudgingly, Alex takes the kid to a birthday party, where instantly they meet a fairly awesome (though marginally peculiar) dude named Kurt, who has a son around the same age as RJ. Thanks to some gummy worms, the boys hit it off quickly. The adults? Same. Kurt insists that Alex and Emily come over for dinner that night. Which, of course, sounds nice.

From there, well it's anyone's guess, as what starts out as dinner and conversation ends up with bong hits, full-frontal dong shots, peephole-laden all-night massage parlors and incredibly intimate portaits (to say the least). And that ain't even the half of it. While The Overnight isn't exactly laugh-out-loud funny, it's so incredibly bizarre and charming my wife (yes, she stayed up) and I were enthralled from start to finish.


Honestly, I'm not sure you (or anyone else, perhaps?) will enjoy this film, but I'm damn sure I need you to see it. How else are we going to talk about it, right? I mean, you and yours go ahead and Netflix it, get a sitter, then come over to our house for some adult beverages. We'll talk it over, compare notes, see where the night takes us. Oh, you didn't bring your bathing suit? Not a problem at all. We don't have a pool.

I don't think these two know the rules of skinny dipping.

Oh, is it getting awkward in here? Maybe trotting out the Yays and Boos will help everybody relax. Uh, check that. They're only going to make it worse. Much worse. If you plan on giving this one a click, please bail now. Spoilery spoilers to come.

Yeah, this is pretty bad.

Yaaaaaaay!

• Adam Scott is a strong entry, but holy shit is Jason Schwartzman the MVP of this f--king movie. I wasn't ever sure I could trust Kurt, but I sure as shit I loved him.
• At some point, a breast-pump informational video is queued up, and perhaps unsurprisingly, the party's hostess (Kurt's wife) is the star. Embarrassing, right? Not as much as when her husband demands you take the DVD home...and finish it.
• I've never been drunk, but hot damn, put me down for some drunken ass slapping/ horrible dancing any day.
• Those f--king self-portraits are a lot like...opinions. I think I got that saying right. And the fact that Alex was just about to pose for one? Hysterical.
• Feeling down about some physical imperfection you might have? Go see Kurt. No, like, literally. See Kurt. All of him. Somehow, this will help you.
• I got a twelve pack of robes.
• And finally, for the first time in my life, I was happy when the kids burst in on them. It was such a perfect ending. Until it wasn't.

I'm not sure I want to know the people starring in my first peep show.

Boooooooo!

• Aw, that was a pretty unfortunate finish. In the beginning.
• Serious time for a sec, but ladies, please don't ever make Dad go to a birthday party alone. You know we don't want to be there, and there's a good chance we're just going to ruin everything.
• Uh, not sure I'm a super big fan of some other dude putting my kid to bed. Hours after I've met him, anyway.
• Man, Schwartzman's schvantz is impressively terrible. Like, that's rad he's got a giant horsec--k, sure, but does it really need to be flapping all over our party? It's rude, is what it is.
• Sweet f--k that was a lot of throw-up.
• So, this is the longest night ever, right? Not just in how oppressively/impressively awkward it was, but in literal duration. F--k me, a typical weekend night goes by like that! These f--kers have multiple epiphanies for f--k's sake. You know how long it takes to have one epiphany? Me neither.
• Whoa, that kind of took a turn at the end, didn't it?
• And finally, speaking of the end, it was so close to perfect, I almost died! Like, just cut it two minutes before and you've got the greatest ending ever. Leave that last bit to the post credit bonus, you know? 

Sometimes, it's pretty nice to get away from the kids and hang out with other grown-ups for awhile. But, shocking no one, me and Mrs. Two Dollar Cinema are pretty tame party guests. But, you invite us over for a late night at your house - without our kids - there's no telling what could happen.

No, seriously. I couldn't tell you. Because it's never happened.

I double checked my math and everything.