Based upon the stage play "Sexual Perversity In Chicago" by David Mamet (1974)
Screenplay Written by Tim Kazurinsky & Denise DeClue
Directed by Edward Zwick
RATED R
RUNNING TIME: 1 hr 53 min
Released July 4, 1986
It is astounding when there is a film that can meet and greet you at completely different life stages and feel undeniably true regardless of the life experience lived.
This year, I have found myself with a new obsession: the film podcast entitled "The Rewatchables," hosted by journalist, sportswriter and pop culture analyst Bill Simmons and a revolving cast of collaborators. Just as suggested by the podcast moniker, "The Rewatchables" celebrates the motion pictures experiences that can be enthusiastically revisited over and again, from prestige classics to the so-called guilty pleasures (for if it is pleasurable, why feel guilty about it?) and everything in between. Informative, nostalgic and downright hysterical, it has been a wonder to listen to each episode as it genuinely reminds me of my youth as every "Siskel & Ebert" television show was a personal event. Frankly, "The Rewatchables" makes me think of it as a hybrid between the Chicago based "Siskel & Ebert" and the PBS program "The Sportswriters On TV," as the raspy voiced Simmons and his crew boisterously chop it up over the film in question, reminiscing, reviewing and heartedly cracking each other up with insights that range from profound to outright cheerful vulgarity.
A recently released episode truly piqued my attention as the show spotlighted a film that was as formative to me during my Chicago teen years as Paul Brickman's "Risky Business" (1983) and the entire John Hughes ouevre as I vividly remember my first viewing of it in the theaters and I rewatched it constantly during my high school years. What surprised me was the realization that alongside those aforementioned films, the film in question just reached its 40th anniversary this year plus the fact that as formative as the film was for me, I actually have not seen it again in decades.
And, as you may have guessed from the subject of this posting, i am writing about Director Edward Zwick's debut feature film, "About Last Night...".
Returning to "The Rewatchables" for a moment, the first significant insight occurred when Bill Simmons mused about how when we are young, how much we actually learn about life and living is discovered within the movies...i.e. How do you smoke a cigarette? How do you look when you shoot a gun? How do you snort cocaine? How do you drive a car? And in the case of Edward Zwick's "About Last Night...," we are given a window in what adult romantic and sexual relationships are possibly like.
As previously stated, I vividly remember when "About Last Night..." was released and the initial reactions from both the late, great Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert, both of whom elicited high praise for the film. Additionally, I was a devotee of Chicago radio raconteur and shock jock Steve Dahl, who spent several days on the air raving about the film, undeniably towards its riotously salacious content but surprisingly, he often spoke strongly of the film's perceptive emotional depth and validity in its knowledge of how adult relationships work and fail.
At the film's time of release, I was 17 years old and getting closer to my Senior year of high school. It was a Summer where I obsessively spent early morning, afternoon and evenings riding around and around my neighborhood on my ten speed bicycle, headphones strapped to my ears and just beginning to try discovering whatever creative voice I had as a writer as I aimed for the John Hughes stars attempting to craft screenplays in my parents' basement. I did not live in the same Hyde Park neighborhood as my high school classmates and the kids that I ran with in my own neighborhood and I simply grew apart by our adolescence. Much of my Summer, I lived in my head, dreaming away, listening to music, re-watching movies and seeing new ones, and reading, all of which kept my worries and anxieties about the upcoming school year and the college prep process under the intensely watchful eyes of my demanding parents slightly at bay as time was moving rapidly and Summertime slow simultaneously.
And while I was confident in my abilities to live inside of my head and be alone, I was also very lonely...longing and wishing for a girlfriend who would, at long last find me interesting and worthy of being in love with.
One Summer night, I found myself invited to Hyde Park by a circle of friends which included a girl with whom I had long powerfully admired, kissed once at the age of 14 and somehow, feelings were never quite reciprocated despite the powerful warmth of our friendship which ebbed and flowed. As a group, we decided to see the filmed in Chicago "About Last Night..," as we were not only excited to see our city on screen again but we were all energized by the collective young actors populating or movies screens during those years, and we were more than game to witness the latest film starring Rob Lowe and Demi Moore, who just the previous Summer, more than engaged us in Joel Schumacher's "St. Elmo's Fire" (1985)--a film that I have had a stormy relationship with for these 41 years...but that's another story.
We saw the film at Chicago's Water Tower to a packed audience all abuzz. Yet, once the film concluded, we all exited. not lifted, but in a subdued state. Memory tells me that we all enjoyed the film and I unquestionably felt all of the praise was justified, feeling that it was one of the best films of 1986 that I had seen. But, there was something greater, something deeper at work. Something about the film reached inside all of us and performed something, I would gather, was somewhat transformative.
For "About Last Night..." was the film that taught us that maybe our romantic and therefore, sexual futures were bound to be exceedingly more complicated than any of us may have conceived of (especially with our limited knowledge and experience) ...and the overall effect was sobering to say the least.
Based upon David Mamet's rapaciously vicious 1974 stage play "Sexual Perversity In Chicago," Edward Zwick's "About Last Night..." stars Rob Lowe as Danny Martin, a 24 year old college dropout now salesman for a restaurant supply company who briefly meets and flirts with 24 year old advertising agency employee/artist Debbie Sullivan (Demi Moore) at a recreational softball game between their respective companies in Grant Park. Later that same evening at the game's afterparty at the legendary Chicago singles bar Mother's, Danny and Debbie meet again, eliciting a mutual attraction and even later that night, their first sexual tryst...much to the intense chagrin of Debbie's roommate Joan (Elizabeth Perkins).
Danny and Debbie's first night together leads to a second, and then further, a romantic day in Chicago together and of course, more incredible sex, a budding relationship extending itself into greater complications including Debbie's affair with her boss (Robin Thomas), the increased consternation of Danny's best friend, the boisterous, braggadocious Bernie Litko (James Belushi) as well as the rising intensity of the aforementioned Joan.
Debbie soon leaves Joan's apartment to move into Danny's, beginning their first adult relationship which unveils itself over the following several months from moments tranquil and serene, to baffling and irritating, to the emotionally wrenching and wrathful all punctuated with sex and their attempts to navigate the precarious dance of intimacy.
In hindsight, Edward Zwick's "About Last Night...," just as explored by Bill Simmons on "The Rewatchables," was entirely a film that defined the modern romantic comedy as dictated by Woody Allen's "Annie Hall" (1977) while also serving as a bridge to Rob Reiner's "When Harry Met Sally..." (1989), as we were presented with an entry not dependent upon the prefabricated plots, structures, tropes and emotions that would further define the genre over the decades but by delivering characters that functioned as real human beings exploring true human emotions straddling the gap between movie romance fantasy and the realistic emotional truths that showcase just how difficult and messy adult relationships actually are.
After listening to the podcast episode, found myself inspired to myself re-watch a film that, as previously stated, I have not seen in decades, perhaps since my very late teens to 20 at most, and as I watched, not only was I surprised with precisely how much I remembered from the film, I was further amazed with just how exceedingly well it holds up after 40 years. For at the age of 17, the events presented were all ahead of me. Now, at 57, these events are decidedly long behind me as I have existed within a committed relationship for the entirety of my adult life, with all of the requisite peaks, valleys that nearly ended us and everything in between. And at both life stages and ages, Edward Zwick's "About Last Night..." remains not simply emotionally true, the depth of the film only continues to reveal itself.
First of all, and especially with its close proximity to "St. Elmo's Fire," it would have been more than easy for Zwick to pitch his film in the frivolous spirit of the then 1980's and call it a day. To a degree, the film is very much a product of its time (and how could it not be?), especially with the lightning rod casting of both Rob Lowe and Demi Moore. It is a bright and breezy aesthetic yet one that simultaneously and brilliantly captures all that is coarsely beautiful and beautifully coarse about Chicago and its citizens.
The wildly and repugnantly hilarious opening credits sequence between Danny and Bernie, who is riotously recounting a previous evening's sexual escapade, largely pulled from David Mamet's original play and clearly inspired by the viciously crude and crass opening credit spoken dialogue between Jack Nicholson and Art Garfunkel in Mike Nichols' raw "Carnal Knowledge" (1971), sets the stage in terms of male sexual attitudes (and fears) towards women while also perfectly ensuring the city of Chicago, from its architecture, landmarks and dialects instantly becomes a full character.
Much as how regarding my home city in Christopher Storer's resplendent "The Bear" (2022-2026), makes me feel homesick, regarding "About Last Night..." at my current age makes me homesick for the very Chicago in which I grew up, from streets that I once walked, the sights and sounds of the city forever in my DNA to my 1989 drought filled Summer--at the age of 20--during which I spent every Saturday morning cleaning Grant Park as part of a Summer Internship Program I was part of as well as the entire controversy surrounding the installation of night game lights at Wrigley Field--August 8, 1988, a date firmly stenciled into my consciousness--as represented by by Danny wearing a "NO LIGHTS!!" t-shirt in one scene, which elicited cheers from the movie theater audience.
Where the film exceeds, both then and now, is within its exploration of young adult relationships, which is given a stronger, richer dynamic in Tim Kazurinsky and Denise DeClure's screenplay which softens Mamet's otherwise brutal stage play, but not to any detrimental degrees. Instead of the nine week time span of the play, "About Last Night..." stretches the time span to essentially one year in the lives of its characters and the city in which they live, Zwick gloriously showcasing Chicago in all of its seasons, from the stunning glow of the Spring and Summer Grant Park sequences, to possibly my favorite image from the film, a dark, snowy night on Chicago's L' train tracks, starring Danny and Debbie in the Winter of their relationship.
In 1986, I knew very little about relationships and demonstrably less about sex and Edward Zwick's "About Last Night.." opened up an explicit window into both. I have long spoken about on this site about the wealth of films about falling in love as opposed to staying in love and the considerable work involved, and for me, this film may have been the very first one to fully resonate with me regarding the work of relationships, themes Zwick would explore to larger degrees upon his television work with creative partner Marshall Herskovitz on both "thirtysomething" (1987-1991) and "Once And Again" (1999-2002), and best of all with their production of Winnie Holzman's "My So-Called Life" (1994-1995).
It is through Zwick's strict adherence to character, motivation and behavior that "About Last Night..." ascends miles above the soap opera superficiality of "St. Elmo's Fire," a quality Zwick with Lowe and Moore play into before delving significantly into dangerously deeper emotional waters. To that end, "About Last Night..." for me, holds much more in common with Amy Heckerling's "Fast Times At Ridgemont High" (1982), as scripted by Cameron Crowe, as it details the life experiences and challenges of two young people obviously not emotionally ready for the adult world they are just beginning to insert themselves in.
During one of the film's most unassuming yet striking montage sequences in a film rife with montage sequences (as was a cinematic motif of the time), we are given the stage of Danny and Debbie's cohabitation as it is settling and growing into something beyond sex and "playing house," even as they are essentially playing house. Set to Bob Seger's wistful "Living Inside My Heart," Zwick creates a sublime marriage of music and images, which at the time, I vividly remember feeling my heartbeat slowing.
Even as I watched the film now, that exact same emotional response occurred for here is the point in the film where Zwick is signaling to us that the sex and frivolity we witnessed before all comes at a cost for we are going to stretch and descend into an experience of stronger, more realistic emotional resonance, It is the sequence where the film changes into something more soulful which plays off handsomely in the film's second half--especially in the honestly painful and breathtaking breakup scene--taking Lowe and Moore's genuinely electric chemistry and allowing them to find new layers in their respective film personas, especially Lowe, who I think gave his finest screen performance in this film, presenting the real person behind the exquisite face and physique.
As Danny Martin, Rob Lowe effectively gives us a portrait of a young man for whom life has most likely been a parade t is now just beginning to receive some much needed scars in order for him to try and grow beyond his boyish charms and adolescent attitudes toward women and therefore, life itself. Early in the film, during post-coital conversation with Debbie, he announces that "What you see is what you get," a quality that to some may suggest that Danny lacks depth. I feel that while this may be true, it is because Danny has not yet discovered what the depth of his character could actually comprise of as he has not yet been tested.
His first scar is from obviously his disappointment of not finishing college and ending up in what is essentially a dead end job, holding his dreams of becoming a restaurant owner at bay. In a way, this makes Danny somewhat of a spiritual cousin to the Chicago based twentysomething grad school drop out, aspiring writer Jefferson "Jake" Briggs (Kevin Bacon), who himself possesses a dead end warehouse job before finding work in advertising while navigating the growing pains of growing up in a young marriage with Elizabeth McGovern in John Hughes' masterpiece "She's Having A Baby" (1988).
A powerfully intense scar formulates with Danny's friendship with his client Gus (Joe Greco), owner of The Swallow, an antiquated, family restaurant in business troubles with Danny's company and forced to close due to late payments. Danny's guilt and sense of responsibility upends him and as he has never existed in any relationship before Debbie, or held any healthy relationships with any women previously, he is unaware of how to connect with the woman he lives with aside from sexual...and so, he retreats into self pity and self loathing right at the point he needs to reach out to Debbie for connection, understanding and growth. Yet, Danny simply does not possess the emotional skill set to even know how to begin.
Danny's friendship with Bernie is of an ever greater detriment, although neither of them really know it just yet, suggesting a friendship of convenience that grows to one of sheer longevity even as Danny will inevitably outgrow it and Bernie will cling on as long as he can for fear of being alone, much like the male friendship at the core of Alexander Payne's "Sideways" (2004).
It's clear that Bernie thoroughly enjoys taking the younger Danny underneath his wing, so to speak, and James Belushi all but walks away with the film with his blustering loquaciousness, which is filled end to end with one standout line of dialogue after another delivered with blistering, nasty fury. And still, Zwick with Belushi, keeps probing in subtle ways. For all of his extreme talk of his sexual prowess as a Chicago Lothario, there is absolutely no way in Heaven or Hell that any of his stories are remotely true. To that end, and aside from one scene where sexual connection is inferred, Bernie is never once seen having any sense of sexual success with any woman during the film, suggesting Bernie's life is nothing but work, closing down Mother's at a bar stool every night and going home alone before doing it all over again the next day, making a character outwardly hilarious but ultimately a tragic class clown who never grows up.
And to that end, Danny is his only friend.
Danny and Debbie's budding relationship exists as much of as existential threat to Bernie as it is to Joan, who is easily Bernie's equal with a sardonic outlook and lines that bruise, masking and illuminating the pain of being the woman that men habitually pass over for the likes of Debbie.
For Debbie, while essentially being the same age as Danny, has undoubtedly gained just this much more life experience in regards to career opportunities, her illicit affair with her employer and even her ability to move onwards after her breakup from Danny, which has otherwise left Danny, at first cold but ultimately undone. That being said, her own maturity level with adult relationships is as naive as Danny's as evidenced by her reaction to a stitching made during her days as a Girl Scout intended for her hope chest ruined during a tense moment, which to me, signified girlish romantic fantasy clashing with adult reality and the result is wearying.
It may seem silly at points to some viewers when both Danny and Debbie airing laments over the adult lives with an air of seasoned fatigue as they are indeed so young but to me, this is precisely how it did feel during my twenties when you ae trying to figure out your place and space in the larger adult world and the values and reams you held so tightly rapidly feel further out of reach while yearning to reach that "next level" feel eons away. When I think of my own twenties, I recall vividly feeling that between the ages of 26-30 almost existing as one long year, with 30 feeling like a sigh of relief, For Danny and Debbie as they attempt painful small talk during home cooked dinners, for instance, these are two people emulating whatever they had seen from their parents, now playing house and dress up and aside from sex, they don't know each other at all and therefore, they have no idea of how to build a life together...or even if they should.
The breakup sequence, as previously stated, truly packs an emotional wallop as demonstrates both Demi Moore and especially Rob Lowe, at their best, as they are now emotionally naked, which was more striking to witness, even after having seem them physically naked for much of the film. The film's final sequence, a bookend at another Grant Park softball game, finds Lowe in his finest acting moment, emitting true regret, loss, gained understanding and even a little bit of hope, however faint.
Edward Zwick's "About Last Night..." reaches its pinnacle by burying under the surface. No, am no suggesting that this film exists within the same neighborhood as something by Ingmar Bergman. But, I am expressing to you that what Zwick's film achieves greatly is that it is unafraid of making adult romance hurt, to show the illusion of love inside sex, no matter how great the sex happens to be, and depicting the failure of love when the two parties in question know nothing of each other despite their best intentions to try. I now think that it was the hurt my friends and I were wrestling with as we left that screening 40 years ago, a life lesson for us teenagers for whom pop culture presented a certain outlook to strive for no matter how unrealistic.
Now that it has been 40 years, I am extremely curious as to what young audiences of 2026 might think of this film. It would be seen as quite the an anomaly these days as we now live in a time where we have a recently released film in Will Gluck's "One Night Only," a sex comedy with no sex and apparently little to no nudity as test audiences were made uncomfortable by viewing nude sequences in public! How would today's audiences even comprehend a time when on screen nudity was commonplace and "About Last Night..." definitely pushed the envelope with graphic sex sequences, with no intimacy coordinators starring then 21 year old Lowe and 23 year old Moore openly displaying their bodies for mass audiences to view together.
Most importantly, it is all within the now archaic aspects of the film of having no cell phones or social media. Because of those absences, Edward Zwick's "About Last Night.." is a film that celebrates a time in which people were forced to interact in person, showing how people actually did meet, engage, connect and disconnect with each other.
And even so, I would hope that new viewers, despite the difference in aesthetics and even tonality, would find that the concerns with growing up and finding love remain as universal and as deeply felt as they were 40 years ago...
...and as they always have.
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