Rough Night (2017)

Rough Night is the kind of studio comedy that actually feels a little dangerous again: a gleefully bawdy girls’ weekend that swerves into pitch-black farce without losing its affection for the friendships at its center. The ensemble clicks with the easy shorthand of people who’ve known each other forever, and Kate McKinnon, in particular, barrels through scenes with the fearless oddball energy that turns good jokes into great ones. It’s sex-positive, LGBTQIA+-friendly, and refreshingly women-forward, treating its characters like adults who can be messy, loud, and complicated while still letting them be the heroes of their own chaos. If your humor runs squeamish or you prefer your comedies gentle, this might be a lot—but if you want an entertaining, unapologetic ride, it delivers.

Rough Night wants to be a raunchy girls’ trip comedy with a dark, crime-farce twist, and you can see the intention: big personalities, escalating chaos, and a friendship-at-the-core payoff. The problem is it can’t decide what it is, swinging between goofy party hijinks and “oh wow, someone died” panic in a way that feels tonally scattered rather than cleverly edgy. A lot of the humor leans on familiar, derivative beats and some jokes may read as shallow or uncomfortable depending on your tolerance for problematic comedy, with characters that don’t always feel fully formed beyond their archetypes. If you’re here for a few energetic set pieces and a solid ensemble trying their best, you might have fun—but if you want sharp writing or a consistent dark-comedy lane, this may test your patience.