Last Night

In a muted Toronto that feels both intimate and eerily abandoned, the city teeters on the edge of an inexplicable, long‑foretold apocalypse. The streets pulse with a quiet resignation, where everyday chores are performed against a backdrop of sporadic unrest and a ticking clock that everyone seems to ignore. A low‑key soundtrack of early‑70s pop drifts through the air, lending the world a nostalgic melancholy that underscores each character’s attempt to cling to normalcy while the world subtly unravels.

Sandra spends her day scrounging for supplies, her routine punctuated by a lingering sense of vulnerability. Her husband Duncan works to reassure strangers that the essentials—most notably the gas that powers their lives—will hold steady “until the end,” a promise that feels almost absurd in these final hours. Across the city, Patrick gathers with his extended family for a makeshift Christmas dinner, using ritual to push back against the looming deadline. Meanwhile, Craig navigates his own search for meaning, sharing moments of intimacy that hint at deeper questions about desire and fulfillment.

The film foregrounds a web of relationships that blossom, fray, and realign under the pressure of imminent oblivion. Old friendships resurface, unexpected reunions spark, and hidden longings surface in conversations that hover between tenderness and tension. Each character wrestles with the weight of commitment—whether to a partner, a family, or a self‑imposed set of expectations—while the looming cataclysm forces them to weigh what truly matters.

Tonally, the story balances the starkness of an ending world with the warmth of human connection, using quiet humor, reflective pauses, and a soundtrack that feels both comforting and disquieting. The atmosphere invites viewers to linger in the uneasy space between resignation and hope, watching as ordinary lives become the stage for extraordinary choices without ever revealing the final outcome.

Last Updated: November 25, 2025 at 15:08