All Nighter (2017)

All Nighter is the kind of one-crazy-night comedy-drama that sneaks up on you, not with big set pieces, but with the unexpectedly great chemistry between J.K. Simmons’ tightly wound, all-business dad and Emile Hirsch’s anxious, lovesick ex who can’t quite stop caring. Gavin Wiesen keeps the movie moving with a slick, freewheeling momentum, letting Los Angeles feel like a maze of bad ideas, late-night confessions, and small, human revelations without ever tipping into sentimentality. It’s funny in the way real panic can be funny—sharp, awkward, and a little messy—and Simmons in particular gives the film a surprising emotional gravity beneath the bluster. If you’re looking for a deep, life-altering indie, this may feel slight, but if you want a brisk, R-rated ride powered by two charismatic performances and a genuinely warm payoff, it’s an easy night-in win.

All Nighter is clearly trying to be a scruffy, one-crazy-night LA odyssey where an uptight dad and a wounded ex-boyfriend stumble into reluctant-buddy chemistry while chasing a missing daughter. The problem is it often feels like the movie is going through the motions: the jokes land softly, the pacing drifts, and the “wild” detours play more like mildly awkward errands than escalating comedy. J.K. Simmons brings some needed bite and authority, and there are a few sincere beats about panic, control, and letting go, but the film’s thin story and low comic energy make it easy to forget once it’s over. If you’re expecting a sharp, laugh-heavy romp or a meaningful drama payoff, you’ll likely be underwhelmed; if you’re okay with a modest, R-rated indie with a couple of decent performances and not much punch, it may pass the time.