Peter Finch’s character in Sidney Lumet’s biting 1977 masterpiece “Network,†Howard Beale, said he was “mad as hell†in a live on the air tirade against the corporatization and rampant capitalistic tenacity of the news media of the day.
Imagine if a demon tuning in actually decided to show Beale what real hell would look like, live for the world to see. That scenario would approximate the experience of “Late Night with the Devil†— a found footage horror film from Colin and Cameron Cairnes that works equally as well, if not better, as a sardonic satire of late-night television of the 1970s.
David Dastmalchian, in a magnetic and entrancing performance, stars as Jack Delroy, a syndicated late-night host who, in an attempt to stave off cancellation, stages an exorcism live on his talk show on Halloween night.
The real horror in the Cairnes brothers’ film is that if a similar TV stunt were pulled today, it likely wouldn’t warrant a second glance from viewers. It would be labeled as nothing more than a boisterous distraction, with most people pausing for a moment before changing the channel.
What is it about the past that we find so suitable for gullibility? Perhaps because there was a more earnest sense of mystery in the world — we knew less about the universe and about ourselves.
Perhaps that’s typically why the most comforting films tend to be period pieces. We are allowed to reach back and take solace in a time when we were less “advanced.†Though, looking around, sometimes, I have to ask if we really are.
Life seemed simpler half a century ago, when Howard Beale railed against the corrupt capitalistic establishment. Our days weren’t scheduled down to the minute. We weren’t able to be reached every second of the day. We were allowed to be ignorant of the complexities just around the corner in our ever-evolving world.
Certainly, we are still a gullible species, especially when it comes to the news we are exposed to. But we are also skeptical of what we see with our own eyes. On the litany of screens that stare back at us, we can never be sure what we’re seeing is real with technology making it ever more challenging to spot the difference.
Which makes the choice to construct “Late Night with the Devil†as a found footage film quite brilliant. The film is presented live, minute by minute, as if we were in our living rooms, huddled around our televisions in 1976, like our ancestors huddled around the dancing fire spreading mystic tales.
The Cairnes brothers permit interstitials during commercial breaks where we are allowed behind the scenes of a late-night production on the downward spiral — the questioning back and forth and moral quandaries of the haywire evening offering a fascinating glimpse into the minds of those who titillate and entertain us in a bid for capitalistic supremacy.
If “Late Night with the Devil†concludes where you’d expect, I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing or indicative of subpar writing or unimaginative filmmaking. I think that’s actually the point.
The comfort of horror is that you usually know things are not going to end well. You can get up from your seat and leave the theater, go home, and sleep soundly in your bed, because demons aren’t real. “Late Night with the Devil†reminds us that demons are real, and they usually look an awful lot like us.
