I saw *One Night Only* this weekend.
And somewhere between the premise that unmarried people are only allowed to have sex one night a year and me wondering exactly how many government employees would be required to enforce such a thing, I realized something.
**Will Gluck may be our modern-day Nora Ephron.**
I don’t mean he’s making *When Harry Met Sally…* again. Nobody needs to make *When Harry Met Sally…* again. We already have one. It’s fine. Leave it alone.
Also, I watch it every New Year’s Eve, and if there were two of them to watch I wouldn’t know how to sync them up for the appropriate “When you meet the person…” and then the clock changes.
Ya, I’m a hopeless romantic.
But Gluck seems to understand something that has gone missing from a lot of romantic comedies: people can actually be funny while falling in love.
They can talk.
They can be weird.
And then came perhaps the biggest upset of the weekend.
**This might be the only movie made in the last ten years with an Owl City reference.**
I had that at plus 5000.
Which naturally brings us to sports wagering.
