This is an account of the final broadcast of the ’70s chat show Night Owls, featuring late-night telly sensation Jack Delroy (David Dastmalchian) – who, in a bid to beat out Carson, unwittingly unleashed Hell on the airwaves. It’s a chilling nightmare in the annals of American TV, sure, but still preferable to Carpool Karaoke.
Chasing flagging ratings, beleaguered Jack Delroy attempts to spice things up with an occult-themed episode of his show, first hosting questionable medium Christou (Fayssal Bazzi), and then introducing a woman (Laura Gordon) and her creepy young charge (Lilly, played by Ingrid Torelli) – who she claims is possessed by a demonic entity. As an ill-advised demonstration unfolds, Delroy ushers demonic forces far beyond his control… you know, like Jimmy Fallon’s 2016 interview with the Trump, except less gross.
This found-footage film by Cameron and Colin Cairnes does terrific work copying the look and feel of a ’70s-era American talk show, from the in-house band to the chintzy suits, cheesy jokes, and put-upon producer (Rhys Auteri). This was the decade of The Exorcist, Vietnam, and Jimmy Carter, when a shocked nation was still reeling from the murder of Sharon Tate by the cult of Manson, and a time when Johnny Carson ruled late-night TV.
Harnessing this moment in time and pop culture, the writer-directorial duo let Night Owls do its thing, airing as normal aside from a brief introduction by the narrator (a gravelly, well-cast Michael Ironside) and behind-the-scenes footage during ad breaks (think This Time With Alan Partridge). Otherwise, Late Night With the Devil never breaks character, recalling the recent Inside No. 9 episode 3 by 3 or a Documentary Now! entry in its admirable commitment to the bit.
The unique structure lends itself well to the story being told, with the tension gradually building throughout. Dastmalchian makes the most of a rare leading role, a man clearly struggling with deep grief, resentment and a hidden darkness behind the warm and cuddly TV host demeanour. You know, similar to James Corden, except we actually like Jack Delroy.
Meanwhile, young Torelli makes a deliciously unsettling host to the devil inside and is well-antagonised by scenery-chewing sceptic Carmichael Haig (Ian Bliss). While it takes a moment to attune, the uncanny valley fake-it-till-you-make-it performances ultimately work for the characters (in which everyone is faking a smile, for various intents and purposes) and for the chilly tone of Late Night With the Devil.
To the credit of the conceit, both the movie and TV show within the movie are utterly compelling. A great number of demonic possession films have followed The Exorcist, but Late Night With the Devil deviously stomps its own path, forgoing the usual pea soup and pre-teen swearing in favour of its own shocking take on the mythos. Its various plot twists are too good to spoil, but do feature some delightfully Cronenbergian body horror and a series of visual effects quite unlike anything seen in an exorcism/teen possession movie ever before.
A bold, fresh and thoroughly unpredictable take on the demonic possession film, and a bloody good episode of TV too.
LATE NIGHT WITH THE DEVIL is out in UK cinemas on March 22nd, 2024.
