Casual movie-goers might not immediately recognize the name David Dastmalchian, but they’ve certainly seen his films. Both Christopher Nolan and Denis Villeneuve, inarguably two of the most preeminent directors working today, have welcomed Dastmalchian onto multiple projects—The Dark Knight and Oppenheimer for the former, Prisoners, Blade Runner 2049, and Dune Part I, for the latter—and he’s had his hand in a number of superhero projects, including The Suicide Squad, all three Ant-Man films, as well as voice roles in Marvel’s animated What If…? series and several Batman animated films. Within the horror community, however, Dastmalchian is a rapidly rising star.

Horror fans will know David’s face, from hosting Fangoria’s Chainsaw Awards for the past three years running, to his parts in movies like The Belko Experiment (2016), The Boogeyman (2023), and The Last Voyage of the Demeter (2023). Not to mention, of course, his front and center role in this year’s early breakout indie sensation, Late Night with the Devil, written and directed by Cameron and Colin Cairnes. Here, Dastmalchian plays the beleaguered late night host Jack Delroy, who finds himself in a last ditch effort to save “Night Owls,” his floundering television show, with what he hopes will be a firecracker of a Halloween special.

While the trailer for Late Night with the Devil calls to mind found footage/broadcast staples like Ghostwatch (1992) and WNUF Halloween Special (2013), I was nervous that it was going to feel a little too similar to another Shudder original, The Cleansing Hour from 2019. In that film, a team of enterprising hoaxsters livestream staged exorcisms until one becomes a little too real. Thankfully, Late Night takes a much different route, focusing instead on the sincere, if desperate, Delroy and his guests.

After opening with an unintentionally comical string of studio titles, Late Night with the Devil starts by framing the narrative in a documentary format that introduces audiences to the main character and his backstory, as well as giving us the reason for the “found” style. It’s an introduction that works, for the most part, though like the title cards that preceded it, the framing device does go on a little too long for my liking. Much of what we get during the info dump could have been handled organically later in the film or could have been inferred. In fact, much of what we learn in the intro is reemphasized by Delroy, himself, in his show’s opening monologue, just a few minutes later.

Once the episode finally takes off, however, Late Night with the Devil really comes into its own. Dastmalchian controls the “Night Owls” stage, taking what might have been a relatively flat and uninteresting late night host personality, a mere means for conveying viewers through to the action, and giving Delroy an emotional depth that makes him a relatable and sympathetic character. Dark, sad eyes belie his boyish features—a visual cue that hints at the hidden history behind the on-air charm. When he introduces his first guest, a mentalist known only as “Christou,” played by Fayssal Bazzi, Delroy displays genuine awe at his performance, further exposing how deeply he wishes to believe in the supernatural forces he hopes to reveal on his show. The latitude he gives skeptic Carmichael Haig (Ian Bliss) in his interview seems to be rooted in his producers’ desire to attract a mainstream audience, rather than an extension of his own skepticism.

The stars of the night’s performance, however, come in the form of Dr. June Ross-Mitchell (Laura Gordon) and her patient, Lilly D’Abo (Ingrid Torelli)—fictionalized versions of Dr. Lawrence Pazder and Michelle Smith, whose largely discredited book, “Michelle Remembers,” kicked off the Satanic Panic of the 1980s. In this version, of course, the patient’s experiences with a Satanic cult turn out to be all too real. While Lilly had been rescued from an actual Satanic cult (at least according to the narrative we’re given in the film), Michelle and her doctor drew from memories “recovered” during hypnosis and, despite overwhelming evidence contradicting their claims, led to a widespread and dangerous witch hunt, whose ripples are still being felt today in the form of baseless conspiracies like Pizzagate and QAnon.

While nearly all of the film’s action takes place during the broadcast, it’s supplemented by “behind the scenes” footage shot during commercial breaks to fill out the story. Unfortunately, critical as these portions are, they feel much less immersive than the televised part of the film. Shot in black and white, but lacking the same kind of grainy, analog feel that the broadcast has, the bonus footage forgoes the kind of shaky, whip-pan style you’d commonly see from similar backstage shoots from the same period. While it makes sense that the camera be so focused on Delroy—it being his program, after all—we’re never treated to anything that feels like it wasn’t meant to be recorded. The cameraman never needs to rush over or covertly zoom in to catch Delroy’s intimate conversations with Dr. Ross-Mitchell, asides between Delroy’s nervous sidekick Gus (Rhys Auteri) and the producer are never caught on a hot mic. Small details like background conversation and camera blocking are always important, but never more so than in found footage, where immersion is so key.

It’s worth mentioning one point of controversy that the film has courted in its use of AI on several title cards used when “Night Owls” goes to and returns from commercial breaks, with many hardliners taking a “zero tolerance” stance against the film. I understand drawing the line in the sand early and digging in—generative AI poses a real threat to the arts in a way we’ve never seen. Already facing the existential threat of decades of underfunding and devaluation, artistic careers are now being forced to compete against algorithms that can realistically plagiarize the very artists they aim to replace. Last year’s guild strikes were a good first step in demanding studios respect the rights of their artists, but the battle is far from over.

It’s not clear if Late Night with the Devil explored the use of AI at the cost of any jobs. They clearly had a design team on the film, and a good one. I don’t have a problem with indie films taking risks and exploring new technologies—in fact, I’d argue that they should be encouraged to do so. In this case, though, there’s a fine line that needs to be tread very carefully. It’s too easy for the wrong lessons to be learned if and when these experiments succeed, and so I think it’s right to call them out on it.

That said, it’s a shame that the ongoing battle against our robot overlords has (in certain circles) dominated the discourse about this film. Aside from this one drawback, Late Night with the Devil is fun, it’s exciting, and an excellent way for David Dastmalchian to further stamp his name in the annals of horror history.