******SUPERNATURAL SPOILERS!*******

Cowritten and co-directed by Australian brothers Cameron Cairnes and Colin Cairnes, “Late Night with the Devil” (2023) was a movie that’d been on my personal radar for awhile. A film festival darling from 2023, the film didn’t debut in the US until earlier this year, and received generally positive buzz.  I was curious.

I already knew the broad strokes of the story; a fictional 1970s late-night talk show host conducts a live interview with a possessed young woman on his program, and all hell literally breaks loose. The movie certainly delivers on that premise, which is almost like a straight version of the Leslie Nielsen-Linda Blair spoof “Repossessed” (1990).  I’d also heard the movie uses the ‘found footage’ gimmick; something popularized 25 years ago with “The Blair Witch Project” (1999) and which has continued with the “Paranormal Activity” franchise (2007-2021) and countless imitators.

While I wasn’t terribly enamored with “Blair Witch Project” (deeply overrated), I was impressed enough with the first “Paranormal Activity” movie (Spartanly spooky) and a few other found footage movies here and there, so I was eager to see what the Cairnes Bros did with this often overused trope. Well, I finally had the chance to see “Late Night with the Devil” last week, and the results were generally rewarding, if also a bit frustrating.

“Late Night with the Devil” (2023)

Opening with a gruff narration from actor Michael Ironside (“Scanners,” “Total Recall”), the movie lays out the secrets of late-night talk show host Jack Delroy (David Dastmalchian) early on. Having joined a secret, Satanic-themed cult called “The Grove” that used to meet in the woods in the early 1970s, Jack apparently sold his soul for a career as the host of the late night talk show “Night Owls.” That success apparently came at the cost of his beloved wife, Madeline (Georgina Haig), whom he used to call “Minnie.” A non-smoker, Minnie contracted a fatal form of lung cancer. Shortly before she died, Jack exploited her condition by having the chemotherapy-weakened Minnie appear as a guest on his show. After her death, “Night Owls” was temporarily shut down, though Jack failed to connect Minnie’s death with his Faustian ‘bargain.’ He later returned to “Night Owls” amid some fanfare.

Note: Nice to see actor David Dastmalchian in a lead role. I’ve seen him all over movies and TV for the past decade or more (“The Dark Knight,” “The Suicide Squad”), and he has a truly unique presence. As Jack Delroy, late-night talk show host, Dastmalchian alternates between genuine grief for his wife (however exploited), and the superficial smarmy persona he cultivates for his audience. He plays sleazy, 1970s show-biz to a tee. 

The movie then cuts to the present. It’s October 31st, 1977, and Jack is all set to host a Halloween special for “Night Owls.” With the studio audience dressed in various Halloween costumes, Jack even gives his Ed McMahon-like cohost Gus McConnell (Rhys Auteri) a good scare before he announces the evening’s holiday-themed lineup; which includes glitzy psychic “Christou” (Fayssal Bazzi), former magician-turned-professional skeptic Carmichael Haig (Ian Bliss), and parapsychologist June Ross-Mitchell (Laura Gordon), who recently rescued a young girl named Lilly D’Abo (Ingrid Torelli) from a Satanic cult, claiming that the girl is currently possessed by a demon, though she’s able to suppress it most of the time.

TV psychic Christou, in his gold lamé Nehru jacket goes about his usual shtick; singling out audience members and taking little more than educated guesses to their “departed” loved ones, with comically off-the-mark results. While Jack does his best to play up the authenticity of his guest’s ‘abilities,’ doubting guest Carmichael Haig laughs it off, dismissing the bogus medium’s shoddy technique and random stabs at the truth.

Note: As a kid growing up in the 1970s and 1980s, I used to see phony psychics like Christou all the time on TV, especially late-night talk shows.  Even into the 2000s, there was the famously fraudulent John Edwards, who hosted the SyFy Channel series “Crossing Over.” Edwards spouted nonsensical, generalized platitudes to grieving audience members and occasional studio plants. As a born skeptic, I give no credence to TV psychics. In fact, I recently found a great article last year from Skeptical Inquirer on Edwards: Skeptical Inquirer: “Grief Vampire John Edwards on the Jackie O Show.”

As Christou walks offstage before a commercial break, he’s violently overcome, and his eyes go white as he grips his temples in agony. He then claims to be in contact with a spirit whose name begins with “M.” Thinking this might simply be a better-played version of his earlier routine, he’s not taken seriously.  The name eventually becomes clear; it’s “Minnie,” the nickname Jack used to call his late wife, Madeline.  Jack’s made-up face goes ashen, as he calls for a break.

Note: Kudos to actor Fayssal Bazzi, who plays Christou. Christou’s brief arc in this film is like a less lucky version of Oscar-winner Whoopi Goldberg’s similarly bogus psychic ‘Oda Mae Brown’ from 1990’s “Ghost.” Like the unlucky Christou, Oda Mae also learns that she is the real deal.

Returning from the break, Christou is angrily seated next to Carmichael, who continuously debunks and cynically mocks Christou’s ‘gift.’ Christou’s had enough. Tired of the insults, he tosses a nearby glass of water in the psychic’s face, and gets up to leave. As he walks offstage, Christou is once again overcome with the same agony he experienced earlier. The medium doubles over and projectile-vomits a stream of tar-like bile onto Carmichael’s blue suede jacket (!).  Another break is called, as Christou is rushed in an ambulance to the hospital, while Carmichael changes backstage.

Note: Magician-turned-professional-skeptic Carmichael Haig, played by Ian Bliss, is based loosely on real-life professional skeptic James Randi, who made something of a living debunking psychics, and who once had water tossed in his face on a late-night Australian TV series, “The Don Lane Show.” The water-in-the-face stunt was also used by the late performance comic Andy Kaufman (“Taxi”) during his famously phony feud with professional wrestler Jerry Lawler on “Late Night with David Letterman” in 1982; an incident recreated for the 1999 Andy Kaufman biopic, “Man on the Moon,” starring Jim Carrey as Kaufman.

As the cast and crew compose themselves after the Christou segment, the next guests are introduced; parapsychologist June Ross-Mitchell and Lilly D’Abo, the teenage girl June rescued from a Satanic cult.  Jack seats himself before his new guests, while Carmichael, now wearing a dark red jacket, sits off to the side. June tells the story of how she rescued Lilly from the demon cult (only to exploit her for her own research). Jack tries to convince June to allow Lilly to channel her demon, whom Lilly calls “Mr. Wriggles.” June resists the suggestion, stating the obvious danger to Lilly.  Jack assures her Lilly will be bound to her chair, and June reluctantly agrees. Carmichael remains skeptical. They go to a commercial break to prepare. During the break, cohost Gus discretely tells Jack that Christou died of a massive hemorrhage en route to the hospital. Meanwhile, the backstage staff at “Night Owls” are threatening to mutiny—fearing the dark vibes their guests are bringing to the show.

Note: “Mr. Wriggles” feels like an homage to “Captain Howdy,” the inner demon of Regan MacNeill (Linda Blair) from 1973’s “The Exorcist,” to which this movie owes a tremendous debt. The character of Lilly D’Abo (similar to “Diabolos,” another name of Satan) is a bit overplayed; she virtually telegraphs her intentions well before the actual summoning. It might’ve offered a better contrast if actress Ingrid Torelli were allowed to play Lilly as a more sweet-natured kid.

After the break, June kneels next to Jack before a bound Lilly as “Mr. Wriggles” is summoned. Lights in the studio flicker, and Lilly’s nose begins to bleed. Soon, teenage Lilly is speaking in a deep, modulated voice. Recklessly, Jack decides to go ahead and ‘interview the devil’ for his silly talk show. However, the demon recognizes Jack, referring to their earlier meeting “under the tall trees” (his earlier experiences in The Grove).  An embarrassed Jack is forced to listen as the demon implies that Jack wanted Minnie dead because he was having an affair with oh-so-saintly parapsychologist June. During the interview, Lilly’s chair levitates in front of the studio audience.  Carmichael remains skeptical, insisting that the levitation was simple stagecraft. 

Note: I have to admit, I was a little disappointed with Lilly’s bag of possession tricks; they’re all straight from “The Exorcist” playbook, down to the instant facial scarring, the deep voice, and the furniture levitations. Rather than dub in actress Ingrid Torelli’s voice with the deeper voice of another actor, Lilly’s possessed voice sounds very electronically-modulated; more like something created on a computer than a supernatural being.  Unfortunately, Lilly’s entire possession feels more like a reenactment of “The Exorcist” (in my opinion, the most frightening movie ever made). Granted, “The Exorcist” is a very tough act to follow, but I wish the filmmakers found a more novel means to suggest a demon inhabiting Lilly’s body. 

Scoffing at the ‘demonstration’ of Lilly’s possession, Carmichael believes the levitation and other tricks were a form of mass suggestion rather than demonic possession.  As ‘proof,’ the skeptic offers to hypnotize “Night Owls” cohost Gus.  Using a spiraling motion device, whose pattern is broadcast onto monitors throughout the studio, Carmichael manages to convince Gus that his body has been invaded by worms, which pour out from self-inflicted wounds all over the cohost’s body. As Carmichael snaps him out of the trance, Gus is perfectly fine.  Reviewing footage of the hypnosis, Gus finds he only opened his shirt; the worms were a mass hallucination inflicted upon himself and the audience. Lilly then asks to see the tape of her possession interview, which remains exactly as everyone saw it, including the levitation of her chair. In a freeze frame of the footage, Jack sees what appears to be the ghost of his late wife, Madeline.

Note: Contrary to so many 1970s childhood myths I was taught, such as the imminently life-threatening role quicksand would play in my adult life, involuntary hypnosis is NOT a thing. The hypnotized subject has to be willing to go under, which makes it extremely unlikely (nigh on impossible) that an entire studio audience could be collectively hypnotized into believing they saw the worms oozing from Gus’ body.  Just saying…

An incensed Carmichael then accuses Jack of rigging it all with special effects and other tricks, but Jack makes a plausible denial.  At that moment, Lilly then stands up and glows from within, as her head splits open and oozes with the incandescent, molten innards of her body. She then projects lighting from her fingertips as she kills Gus, her guardian June, and even the skeptical Carmichael.  The show devolves into a mass-murder bloodbath. 

Note: This is where the movie lost me a bit. With Lilly’s Star Wars-y “force lightning” and other CGI effects in this wildly over-the-top scene, the carefully constructed bubble of the movie’s 1970s videotape-aesthetic completely breaks down, and it begins to look like every other CGI-laden horror movie made these days.  Such a shame.

Jack then awakens in a bizarre, surreal version of the show; reliving moments from its past up to its present; including past sketches, and even moments from the current Halloween special (i.e. the audience members in Halloween costumes, which include a very creepy skeleton who appears to be the Grim Reaper). He’s then taken on a guided tour of his involvement with “The Grove” cult, where he sold his soul on the dotted line for a chance at late night TV success with “Night Owls,” which is currently ranking just behind “The Johnny Carson Show” (in this movie’s universe, anyway…). 

Note: I would’ve rather seen Jack awaken in this netherworld version of his show right after watching the videotape of his wife’s ghost, rather than the over-the-top visual FX orgy we saw instead. Less could’ve been more in this case.

Realizing he unwittingly offered Madeline as the blood sacrifice for his contract with the devil, a guilt-stricken Jack finds himself at his dying wife’s bedside, during her final moments of life.  In deep pain, and barely able to speak, she begs Jack to end her suffering. Jack looks around the hospital room, which is mixed with elements of the “Night Owls” stage. He finds a dagger from Lilly’s former cult that June brought with her to the show.  Carrying the dagger to Madeline’s bedside, he offers to relieve her suffering. After she gives her consent, Jack plunges the dagger into her chest…

Note: This scene at Madeline’s bedside reminds me of the “pain-sharing” moment of “Star Trek V: The Final Frontier” (1989), where Dr. McCoy eases the suffering of his terminally ill father during a Sybok-induced illusion of his father’s final moments. “Star Trek V” may have been a lot of not-so-great things, but the scene where Sybok shows McCoy his pain was one of its best moments (and arguably a best moment of the entire Star Trek movie franchise).

Jack then awakens to realize he has just plunged that dagger into Lilly’s chest, after Madeline and her hospital bed disappear, and he finds himself back on the studio set of “Night Owls.” Looking around at the dead bodies of his studio guests—including the young girl he’s just killed—a disbelieving Jack hears police sirens approaching…

The End.

Summing It Up

Of the few modern horror movies I’ve indulged in recently, “Late Night with the Devil” is easily the most impressive. Visually, the movie’s ‘broadcast footage’ does a nice job of toeing the line between low-res, 4:3 broadcast tape and modern resolution, though I found the black & white backstage footage pushed the found footage gimmick’s credibility. The Cairnes Bros could’ve simply cut to standard 16:9 color framing during breaks, and it would’ve been no more obtrusive. Nevertheless, the overall look, color palette and 1970s-feel of the broadcast segments are very authentic; like a cross between early 1980s David Letterman and the nervy, sweaty-lipped “Tomorrow Show” with Tom Snyder. Kudos. 

The cast is led by longtime character actor David Dastmalchian, who does an excellent job as Jack Delroy; playing him as a smarmy, somewhat sleazier answer to Jimmy Fallon. Dastmalchian performs Jack’s carefully exploited grieving widower status like a Steinway. His costars also rise to the challenge, particularly Georgina Haig (“Minnie”), Ian Bliss (“Carmichael Haig”), and Fayssal Bazzi (“Christou”). The only false note came from the character of possessed Lilly (Ingrid Torelli), whose hand is tipped too early on, and whose demon voice sounds like something you’d get with a voice-changing app. With able support, Dastmalchian is the anchor of this movie, and he wields that authority well.

There are issues with the movie’s final act, which burst the carefully crafted 1970s bubble with a few too many modern visual FX, such as Lilly’s ‘force lightning’ and CGI splitting head, which compromises the movie’s earlier, more spartan tone. Instead of the force lightning, Lilly could’ve just as easily directed her possessed gaze to make a few lightbulbs pop (à la Brian De Palma’s “Carrie”).  Less is always more. Nevertheless, I appreciated the movie’s “Last Temptation of Christ” ending, with Jack caught in a nightmare fantasy world of his own demons, as he pays the price for his Faustian bargain.

The movie offers a clever-enough mashup between “The Exorcist” and Martin Scorsese’s “The King of Comedy,” though it’s not quite ready enough for primetime to stand alongside those two masterpieces of fright and discomfort, respectively. There are a few too many concessions to modern horror that hinder more than they help, and the found footage gimmick—while generally well executed—is stretched to its breaking point. Using a tad more restraint in its final act and perhaps adding in a bit more suspense, this movie could’ve been a horror classic. 

As it is, “Late Night with the Devil” is a respectable-enough horror flick with an effective mood and some strong performances. Certainly no shame in that.  As Faustian bargains go, horror fans could get a lot worse for their 90 minutes spent.

Where to Watch

“Late Night with the Devil” is currently available for streaming on Hulu, Philo, AMC+ and can be digitally purchased/rented on YouTube Premium, Amazon Prime Video, Google Play and iTunes (prices vary).  The movie is also on DVD and Blu-Ray.