



Most apocalypse films can’t resist the spectacle. Last Night isn’t interested. Don McKellar’s debut is less science fiction than thought experiment, asking a quieter question: if everyone knew exactly when it was over, what would they actually do? The answer, it turns out, is mostly finish what they started — family dinners, unfinished promises, bucket-list sex, and the odd appointment nobody sees any reason to cancel. I found that calm more unsettling than any CGI fireball.
It’s set on New Year’s Eve but filmed in summer sunshine, and the unreality adds to it rather than undermining it. The world ends at midnight because it does — no explanation, no scientists, no last-minute solution. Accept the premise and move on. Toronto looks like a real city rather than a disaster movie backdrop, giving the oddness something solid to lean on.
McKellar and Sandra Oh anchor the film as two strangers whose end-of-the-world plans keep colliding. Nobody becomes a saint. People remain recognisably themselves right up to midnight, which feels more honest than the chaos most films reach for.
Some episodes land better than others — the ensemble structure means a few characters feel more like thought experiments than people. But the ending stays small and personal. Less about how the world ends than who you’d want to be when it does.