Once a year, as the clock strikes 7 p.m., unmarried individuals flock to every city in a libido-charged frenzy to find a partner with whom to spend their only night of legal sex. This bizarre setup is the grounding premise of director Will Gluck’s “One Night Only,” which takes place during a time when Congress has passed a mandate banning all premarital intercourse, except for one night a year, in conservative efforts to encourage early marriage.

The film follows pizza shop owner Owen (Callum Turner) and advertisement-jingle vocalist Allie (Monica Barbaro), two of New York City’s unmarried. When his girlfriend Malika (Maya Hawke) decides to spend the night with their neighbor instead, Owen wanders the city looking for a new possible connection, serendipitously running into Allie throughout the night. Their interactions illustrate how this mandate has changed human behavior.

In one instance, the two feud over who gets to purchase the last condom at a convenience store, a heated affair, since protection is mandatory under the guidelines for this one night. Although the scene is laughable — the two end up having to fish the condom out of a sewer — this condom clause is one of many insufficiently explained elements of this dystopian mandate.

Although the plethora of signs around the city dictating the law, and comments from Allie and Owen, make it clear that this law was made under a fascist government, where humans are controlled by biosensors that brand them with green tattoos for married and red for single, it is unclear how it established the exact arrangement. Considering this is supposedly a heavily controlled state, it seems ironic that it would loosen its grip for a night of sex.

Despite mentions of the government’s influence throughout the film, such as tech moguls profiting off of the biosensor industry, inflated prices of condoms and extreme policing of premarital sex, the movie fails to address how society even got to that point.

The biggest clue given to the audience is when Owen’s mother, Linda (Molly Ringwald), is arguing with her partner, Rick (LeVar Burton), about whether the mandate is the fault of Congress or the voters, but their discussion is quickly cut off and turned from political revelation to verbal foreplay.

With nods to modern issues, such as Big Tech’s involvement in politics and increased healthcare costs, “One Night Only” attempts to point out how we aren’t too far from extremist control, using the ban to exemplify its argument. However, by focusing the film on the one night of exception, it misses the opportunity to demonstrate what full control would really look like. The sole purpose of adding this “one night only” clause is to open the door for the film to double as a romance.

If willing to overlook the flawed dystopian development, one can enjoy “One Night Only” as a light rom-com. The plot doesn’t rush the relationship, and Owen and Allie’s understanding of each other grows with each conversation. With Owen as the charming “nice guy” and Allie as a determined romantic, their gradual transition from semi-rivals — only over the last condom in town — to friends and to lovers makes for an easy, satisfying and heartwarming watch.

However, the film weakens its argument against this society by making Allie and Owen find love within the mandated guidelines. In having protagonists obey the mandate and still get their happy ending, “One Night Only” offers a positive portrait of conformism rather than resistance.

Furthermore, the film worsens audiences’ contextual understanding by adding references to various points in time during the 21st century. Allie’s cover of Sara Bareilles’ 2013 song, “Brave” and Owen’s girlfriend’s line “thanks, Obama,” while discussing the mandate, indicate that this law could’ve passed sometime before 2016. However, the usage of phrases like “took the L” and Malcolm Todd’s “Hot in NY” playing in the convenience store drops the plotline into the present day.

“One Night Only” also lacks consideration for how it must interact with history. Although the policing of relationships may seem like a novice dystopian construct to cisgender, heterosexual, white couples, it certainly isn’t to interracial and LGBTQIA+ couples, whose marriages were only legalized nationwide in the United States in 1967 and 2015, respectively.

The film’s only recognition of this history is when Allie’s roommate (Quintessa Swindell), a lesbian woman, shares that she has no interest in this one night of sex because people of her community have been successfully going behind the government’s back for ages.

This detail doesn’t seem to line up with the film’s plotline that the biosensors track all sexual activity, making it a weak excuse for not better considering how LGBTQIA+ stories and history could work in tandem with the premise of the movie.

The film waters down its critical value, hesitant to establish the context behind this society and reluctant to scrutinize it in the end, serving audiences a lukewarm rom-com. Ultimately, “One Night Only” is too afraid to become the political critique it has set itself up to be, sacrificing analytical commentary for just palatable romance.