The Good Night takes familiar (embarrassingly familiar) male-angst material and makes it go loop-de-loop, so that the jokes hit you from behind and underneath while the bleakness smacks you in the face.
This sleepyhead Prince Charming is in for a rude awakening when the choosy, chain smoking Anna, actual female that she is, finds him an annoying loser, and at best undesirable. Au revoir, unconditional love. Someone wake me when it's over.
As a comedy of male delusion, Night seems to shrink from its flimsy dramatic subtexts; as a probing of dream and reality in love, its pretensions to depth suggest a neutered comedic courage: Woody Allen-lite.