Rich people are probably the only humans who don’t respond to comedies about people being broke and somehow making it all work. Having a bad day because you don’t have two nickels to rub together? Others have been there before you. That’s how we got George Orwell’s Down and Out in Paris and London, Depression-era movies like Gold Diggers of 1933 and My Man Godfrey, songs like The Coasters’ “Shoppin’ for Clothes” and Roger Miller’s “King of the Road,” and now One of Them Days, which opened in U.S. theaters in January 17 and, defying all odds at a time when Hollywood bean-counters have largely given up on theatrical releases, stuck around in cinemas for more than three months. A movie that draws that kind of audience must be doing something right, even if that “something” is simply reaching people where they live right now, in an America where paychecks are withering and necessities are more costly each day. Too broke to go out? Now you can watch One of Them Days on Netflix.
Keke Palmer and SZA play Dreux and Alyssa, best friends who rent a cruddy apartment in Baldwin Village, Los Angeles—sometimes known as The Jungles—from moneygrubbing landlord Uche (Rizi Timane), who makes a habit of shaking down his tenants for rent money and evicting them if they’re even a day late. Dreux, a waitress who aspires to manage her own restaurant franchise, and Alyssa, a struggling artist, are almost late. Dreux has entrusted Alyssa with delivering Uche’s money before the first of the month—but instead, Alyssa has asked her layabout, freeloading boyfriend Keshawn (Joshua David Neal) to put the money in Uche’s hands. Unsurprisingly, Uche hasn’t received the funds, and he tells Dreux she has just eight hours, until 6 p.m. sharp, to get the dough. She also has an important job interview at 4—and this is after working a full early-morning shift. Alyssa, feeling guilty over the loss of the rent funds, assures Dreux that they can figure out how to pull together $1500 in one day. So their odyssey begins.
First, they track down Keshawn, who has not only invested the money in a cheap T-shirt enterprise, but also taken up with the toughest gal in the neighborhood, the snake-owning, tiny-shorts-wearing Berniece (Aziza Scott). They try borrowing it from a shady payday loan joint, but their credit scores are so low they’re rejected out of hands. (When Dreux first inquires about the terms, the receptionist—played by Keyla Monterroso Mejia, who turns the derisive giggle into a new art form—directs her to a sign in the window citing 1900.5% APR. “I thought that was the year of establishment!” Dreux says.) Next, they try selling blood, resulting in something like a literal bloodbath. Then, a ray of hope: Alyssa thinks they’ve hit paydirt when she sees a pair of vintage Air Jordans slung over a power line, risking electrocution to procure them. She and Dreux sell them almost immediately (the wheeler-dealer buyer is Lil Rel Howery), only to learn that they belong to a local thug named King Lolo (Amin Joseph), and he wants the money they’ve earned from the sneakers, plus a not-so-small inconvenience fee, by 9 that evening.
In the middle of all this, Dreux has to get to that interview, and she’s so well qualified, and so perfectly likable, that it appears she’s aced it—until the woman in charge of giving her the job (Gabrielle Dennis) sees Alyssa and Gabrielle cat-fighting right outside the building and realizes Dreux is part of their little circle. Nothing about this day is going right, and the pileup of catastrophes practically bust up Alyssa and Dreux’s friendship.
One of Them Days was produced by Issa Rae, and directed and written, respectively, by Lawrence Lamont and Syreeta Singleton, both of whom have collaborated with Rae on other projects like Insecure and Rap Sh!t. It’s fleet and fun, ridiculous in all the best ways. After the messy blood bank episode, Dreux and Alyssa are forced to switch out of their stained clothes and into castoffs they’ve dug out of a charity box: Dreux gets a hideous neon green stretch jumpsuit, Alyssa a 1980s-style faux-silk bomber jacket and track pants set, and they spend the rest of the movie decked out in these crazytown duds—it’s a grand, goofy sight gag.
Palmer (who was the best thing about Jordan Peele’s 2022 film Nope) and SZA make a dazzling team: their timing crackles, and even when Alyssa and Dreux fight, you can still feel the fizzy, blood-is-thicker-than-water affection between them. With their flirty, wisecracking charm, these two performers go a long way in setting the movie’s tone, particularly its generosity of spirit. One of the movie’s best gags involves a white girl Instagram influencer, Bethany (Maude Apatow), who moves into the complex with all her shiny white-girl stuff as the rest of its Black residents look on in disbelief. Uche sucks up to her, offering her a panful of home-baked cookies as a welcome gift; the other tenants, whom he’d evict in a heartbeat, roll their eyes so hard you can practically them clattering in their heads. Bethany is a big, flashing signal of gentrification; Uche’s other tenants have every reason to resent her. Yet in the end, she’s not the enemy—the movie gives her character an affectionate grace note. One of Them Days ends with Alyssa and Dreux not only scraping together enough money for that rent payment, but having enough left over to bankroll a more comfortable and less stressful future. It’s the kind of movie that miraculously makes you feel better about everything. Misery may love company. But it loves comedy more.
