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Late Night with the Devil movie review: haunted by an AI specter – FlickFilosopher.com

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Late Night with the Devil movie review: haunted by an AI specter – FlickFilosopher.com

I first saw Late Night with the Devil at London Film Festival last autumn, and it has been embedded in my brain ever since, like an itchy splinter. I thought: This is an astonishing movie: uniquely fresh and original while also deeply lodged in the history of cinematic horror, with a powerful breakout lead performance from long-time “oh, it’s that guy” David Dastmalchian, who has been, onscreen, the most delightful weirdo — perhaps most notably as “Polka-Dot Man” in 2021’s The Suicide Squad; he also has small roles in that year’s Dune and the recent Oppenheimer — and here exudes true movie-star quality.

I wish I had reviewed this five months ago, but I’ve been dealing with my own mental-health issues that aren’t a million miles away the crisis of confidence that Dastmalchian’s troubled protagonist is coping with here. I couldn’t manage it, so I was happy that the film had scored a theatrical release on both sides of the Atlantic, which meant another opportunity to review it. But it’s all been a bit soured by the recent news that the filmmakers — the writing-directing team of Australian brothers Cameron and Colin Cairnes — utilized “AI” “art” in their production design.

I suspect that the general public doesn’t yet understand how programs erroneously dubbed “AI” are being deployed and the capacity this has to inflict enormous damage in both visual and written creative arts. In brief, computer algorithms that are nowhere near artificially intelligent have been trained on the enormous quantities of written text and visual art (drawings, paintings, photos, etc) available online to spit out what are essentially remixes of that preexisting material. These “AI”s do this in response to human-generated “prompts,” such as, for instance, “image of a walkable city with lots of greenery and beautiful buildings” or “write a literary essay exploring the themes in George Orwell’s novels.” But resulting text meant to sound natural is often stilted and rife with factual errors and references, such as to supposed scientific papers or legal decisions, that are outright inventions. Visual results meant to look realistic are often full of bizarre nonsense, like human figures with too many limbs or fingers, or impossible angles or lighting.

If you’re Extremely Online, as I am, you’ve already come across numerous examples of human writers, voiceover performers, and visual artists complaining about losing paying jobs to “AI,” including so-called deepfake video technology. (One of the issues behind last year’s Screen Actors Guild and Writers Guide strikes was studio use of these “AI” algorithms to replace their members’ work.) Even though there is no authentic creative effort or considered thought behind the output of these programs — they are incapable of conceiving anything new — they are already substituting, if poorly, for human innovation and inventiveness.

This is where Late Night with the Devil utilizes “AI”-generated visuals:

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The movie is mostly set over the course of a single episode, which we’re told went out live on Halloween night 1977, of a (fictional) American late-night talk show called Night Owls, which aired on the (fictional) network UBC. The seasonally appropriate show logo (in this still from the trailer; it appears regularly in the film) was created not by a human artist but by “AI”: the wonky windows on the skyline building are a dead giveaway.

Here’s another of the show’s interstitials, a title card welcoming viewers back from commercials:

Late Night with the Devil AI-generated image

Here the missing fingers on the skeleton clue us in to the fact that the image has been generated by “AI.”

Now, you might be thinking, “What’s the big deal? It’s just a couple of images in the background.” There are many reasons why this is a big deal, perhaps not least: 1) the actual creative work of actual human beings was stolen without permission or recompense and repurposed by a computer program to concoct these images, and 2) actual creative artists were therefore not paid to work on this film in this capacity. It’s bad enough when money-grubbing, artist-denigrating megacorporate Hollywood studios do this — it’s not forgivable, of course, but it’s certainly well within their vampire-capitalist wheelhouse — but it’s far worse when a scrappy little indie production like this one does it. If the fire of human weirdness and invention is not appreciated by a pair of maverick brother filmmakers like the Cairneses, working so far outside of Hollywood that they’re literally on the opposite side of the planet — Late Night was shot in Melbourne — then what hope is there for anyone who just wants to be an arty freakazoid eking out a little living with their ingenious eccentricity?

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I don’t know the Cairneses’ previous work, but I don’t understand how you can have the kind of deliciously disturbed imagination that rustles up the bonkersly off-kilter Late Night with the Devil and not understand that legitimizing the theft of bona-fide human imagination is so uncool. (Here’s a good Twitter thread on why this is a big deal and why it’s important to send filmmakers and studios the message that this is Not Okay.)

Late Night with the Devil
The long dark late-night monologue of the soul…

Dedicated movie fans are engaging in personal boycotts of this movie over the “AI” issue, they feel that deeply that this is a huge problem, and I am very much on their side. I debated with myself whether I should even give the movie what small exposure a review from me would bring it. I decided it was worth it in order to highlight this issue for the vast majority of movie lovers who are not Extremely Online. Because letting mindless computer algorithms built on the hijacked work of creative human beings is going to be very very very bad for anyone who cares about the work of creative human beings, such as movies. We are at the narrowest edge of a horrible wedge, and the time to push back is now.

Here’s the incredibly ironic thing about Late Night with the Devil: it is, at its heart, a story about a creative man who is, as I mentioned earlier, suffering a crisis of creative confidence and also, most likely, creative burnout. Dastmalchian’s late-night TV host Jack Delroy, a former Chicago radio personality, just cannot seem to make enough of a dent in the popularity of his competition: ur–late night TV host Johnny Carson and his The Tonight Show. We learn this in the mockumentary opening of the film, which sets the stage for the 1977 Halloween broadcast: Delroy is a man who has been on a roller coaster of personal tragedy and professional success and intrigue all around: he’s a member of an arcane secret society — of, natch, white men — known to make or break careers. Delroy’s career isn’t quite broken, but it’s not as solid as it could be. Maybe there’s a way he can bolster himself and his show? Via, like, some arcane stuff? *gulp*

Late Night with the Devil
If nothing else, the 1970s palette is pretty terrifying.

Oh, so, why burnout? In 1977, The Tonight Show ran for 261 episodes, one for basically every weeknight of the year. It’s a grueling schedule. Night Owls would have had a similar run. (Watching this movie at London Film Festival was a surreal experience for me, as a transatlantic type, for more reasons than the uncanny stuff happening onscreen, because there is no British equivalent of the American late-night-talk-show ecology; perhaps the closest thing in the 2020s is the solitary example of The Graham Norton Show, which airs only once a week, not nightly, and then only typically for half the year.) Late-night is a meatgrinder of American television. Like, no wonder someone might turn to the supernatural for an assist.

Wait, what?

The faux-documentary-style narrator informs us that we are about to be treated to the “recently discovered master tape of what went to air that night, as well as previously unseen behind-the-scenes footage.” It was, we are told, “the live-TV event that shocked the nation.”

Late Night with the Devil
Up next: an exorcism. But first a word from our sponsors…

What we witness in its ersatz-70s glory is late-night American TV at its cheesy apex. Guests for Delroy and his goofy punching-bag sidekick Gus (Rhys Auteri) include Uri Geller–esque psychic performer Christou (Fayssal Bazzi: Peter Rabbit), who does hilariously terrible (from our 2020s perspective) cold-readings on the studio audience; paranormal skeptic Carmichael Haig (Ian Bliss: The Matrix Revolutions), clearly modeled on James Randi, who throws cold water over Christou; and parapsychologist June Ross-Mitchell (Laura Gordon: Foe),who’s just written a book about her work with a teen Lilly D’Abo (Ingrid Torelli), a waif rescued from a “satanic cult” and allegedly in the grips of a “psychic infestation” — Ross-Mitchell prefers that term over “demonic possession.” It’s all so very late-70s: this was the era of Amityville Horror paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren, of The Omen and The Exorcist. This was the cultural stew from which the so-called satanic-panic bullshit of the 1980s would spring.

Now, the mockumentary conceit falls down in the behind-the-scenes stuff, which purports to show what is happening backstage at the Night Owls studio while the live feed goes to commercial break. But we never understand who is shooting this material, or why… and it certainly never makes sense that these people would be having the conversations that they’re having if there was a camera there recording them. I don’t mind that much, because a breakdown of the documentary style is necessary for the ambiguous ending to work… which it does.

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Late Night with the Devil
Maybe I shouldn’t have signed that contract in blood?

I found it all a perfectly pitched nightmare of overegged ambition and an anything-for-success drive, and a sly twisting of the cosy familiarity of late-night TV, meant to soothe its viewers at home into sleep and not do, er, what this episode of Night Owls does. The entire cast is terrific, but this is Dastmalchian’s showcase, and he is marvelous: he nails the quirky but easy charisma late-night demands.

But the triumph of Late Night with the Devil is absolutely marred by the Cairneses own little deal with the AI devil. “It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way,” Jack moans as his Halloween episode goes to credits. It’s a shame that the same could be said about this film.


more films like this:
• The Last Exorcism [Prime US | Prime UK | Apple TV]
• What We Do in the Shadows [Prime US | Prime UK | Apple TV | BBC iPlayer UK | Shudder UK]

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The Breadwinner (Christian Movie Review) – The Collision

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The Breadwinner (Christian Movie Review) – The Collision

About the Film 

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On the Surface

For Consideration

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Beneath The Surface

Engage The Film

Family Dynamics

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  • Daniel holds a PhD in “Christianity and the Arts” from The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He is the author/co-author of multiple books and he speaks in churches and schools across the country on the topics of Christian worldview, apologetics, creative writing, and the Arts.

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‘Blast’ movie review: An unlikely family packs a punch in this largely gripping but patchy film

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‘Blast’ movie review: An unlikely family packs a punch in this largely gripping but patchy film

A Karate master father, a homemaker mother, and a pharmacist uncle. The life of IT professional Nila (a fantastic Preity Mukundhan) seems quite simple and benevolent — she goes to her office, plays video games on her mobile, and spends time in her uncle’s medical shop, grudgingly looking at an old television set he refuses to let go. Nila’s life, to an unassuming viewer, may not seem anything too extraordinary. Still, one key piece of information reveals that perhaps this must be the kind of ‘family life’ backdrop that most assuredly camouflages a superhero origin story. Nila isn’t just any other ordinary human, and neither is that Karate master, homemaker, or pharmacist. Blast, directed by Subash K Raj, is a martial arts actioner pegged around one very potent Drishyam-esque idea — what if a family of martial arts pros is forced to step out of their normal lives to fight against injustice when nefarious men find their door? And director Subash comes off in flying colours by conceptualising a terrific set-up that makes use of this idea.

The beating heart of the story is Preity Mukundhan’s Nila, who avoids becoming a merely gender-swapped routine action hero. There’s real moral and emotional backing to why Preity is the way she is, and Subash allows her the time to make her case. Nila’s quest started when she was a child. As she fumed with rage due to a ragging incident, her father, Rajaram (Arjun), told her, “fight back if you are in the right” and “fight against injustice even if the victims are strangers.”

Preity Mukundhan in a still from ‘Blast’

Preity Mukundhan in a still from ‘Blast’
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

And the introductory scene to the now-grown-up Nila’s bravado is inherently gripping. A goon is sent flying into a rowdy’s den, and a perplexed henchman walks out to find the “man who hit” his colleague, urging Nila to step aside, because it can’t be a woman, isn’t it? Nila enters, and so does mayhem. In fact, one of the smartest choices Subash makes is in how he retains this inherent, normalised sexism in how the men see Nila throughout. In a later instance, a villain looks past Rajaram and Nila because they seem like an ordinary father and daughter. Where Subash takes a misstep is in how he treats a sexual harassment arc featuring Nila and her abusive manager; it makes way for a good masala cinema moment, but Subash laces it with humour, and it neither reveals anything new nor does it seem to care to extend the idea that the world Nila lives in is already calibrated to look down on women and feast on their vulnerabilities. Also, you begin to get slightly impatient as the film keeps revelling in the idea that a woman is bringing all the action — when will the conflict arise?

Blast (Tamil)

Director: Subash K Raj

Cast: Preity Mukundhan, Arjun, Abhirami, Vivek Prasanna

Runtime: 144 minutes

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Storyline: A fiercesome woman, along with her martial artist parents, vows to take down a corrupt syndicate

Nila constantly gets into trouble as she refuses to bow down in the face of injustice, to the pride of her father, but to the dismay of her mother, Neelaveni (Abhirami, too, can kick some bottoms). And it doesn’t take much to guess where the setting is headed. We simultaneously begin to follow the making of a Black Opal mining scam that an evil businessman, Varun Dhayalan (John Kokken), is spearheading. The project, which puts the hillside village of Keelakadu in danger, would bring in ₹7000 crores worth of minerals, of which a minister (PL Thenappan) takes ₹1000 crores. This whole arc operates like a rather convoluted spiral of villainy — helping Varun move the money needed to bribe the minister is a dreaded assassin named Abraham (Arjun Chidambaram), and helping Abraham is a gangster named Kirubhakaran (Pawan), and under him works a henchman whose friend is a low-life chain snatcher, Toby (Vinod Sagar), and Toby gets caught in a station where Inspector Arunagiri (Dileepan) is investigating Abraham’s identity, and under Arunagiri works a corrupt cop who wants Kirubha’s help to save his job. I guess you could already see where Blast might have derailed.

A lion’s share of screentime is accorded to explain each step in this often yawn-inducing villain saga, all while you are patiently waiting to see the tip of the whirlpool land on Nila’s doorstep and suck her martial arts family in. When it does, it is as explosive as you expect, at least until the intermission mark. While these unidimensional villains test your patience — only Arjun Chidambaram is written and presented with flair — you are left waiting for the next high moment, especially since Subash seems to have a knack for staging such mass-y scenes. But again, how much can Preity and Arjun do when the writing begins to dip into cliches and conveniences? After a point, Blast turns out to be quite tedious in the final act, making you wonder how a leaner, crisper, and more anchored screenplay could have been.

Arjun and Abhirami in a still from ‘Blast’

Arjun and Abhirami in a still from ‘Blast’
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

All that aside, however, what truly fascinates one is how, despite Blast being helmed by a male director and starring an action star like Arjun, it moves around its female protagonist, Nila, and every major decision is made keeping the two central women as opposing but counterbalancing poles — Neelaveni’s moral anchor prioritising the family’s peaceful life above all, and Nila’s moral anchor pushing them to be knights of justice. In fact, even in one of the most pivotal moments of the film, the choice to decide a villain’s fate is placed rightfully on Nila’s shoulders. It is great to see Arjun take a step back to let Abhirami and Preity shine, while Vivek Prasanna, as Nila’s pharmacist uncle, gets a Jailer-esque moment that is sure to become a highlight in his career. Helping all of them are the able technicians, be it the sharp, slick cinematography, innovative and adrenaline-pumping action choreography, and Ravi Basrur’s assured music choices.

That said, Blast is a Preity Mukundhan show all along, and the Star-actor knows how to pack a punch, alright! In a different film, where more ingenious ideas are spring-loaded for mass elevations, Blast would have truly become her career-defining big bang.

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Published – May 29, 2026 02:50 pm IST

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‘The Blow’ Review: A Gripping, Feverishly Performed French Drama Explores Incest With Candor and Emotion

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‘The Blow’ Review: A Gripping, Feverishly Performed French Drama Explores Incest With Candor and Emotion

For his bracing first feature, The Blow (La Frappe), writer-director Julien Gaspar-Oliveri chose a subject so bleak, many filmmakers wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole. And yet this raw and grippingly honest incest drama manages to find a bit of light in the darkness, showing how it’s possible to live with the traumas of sexual abuse. Feverishly performed by newcomer Diego Murgia, who stars alongside César award winner Bastien Bouillon, Gaspar-Oliveri’s moving debut reveals that he’s not only a talented director to watch, but one who’s unafraid to tackle tough scenarios.

The Blow focuses on a disarmingly troubled young man, Enzo (Murgia), who tries so hard to find affection in the eyes of his dad, Anthony (Bouillon), he’s willing to ignore the worst thing a father could ever do to his own son. Enzo spends much of the film in a crushing state of denial, hoping against hope that love will somehow emerge from this mess. He’s so vulnerable that you can’t help feeling his pain — even when he winds up inflicting that pain on others.

The Blow

The Bottom Line

A powerful debut tackles a tough subject.

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Venue: Cannes Film Festival (Critics’ Week)
Cast: Diego Murgia, Bastien Bouillon, Romane Fringeli, Héloïse Volle
Director: Julien Gaspar-Oliveri
Screenwriters: Julien Gaspar-Oliveri, Claudia Bottino

1 hour 46 minutes

Per the press notes, Gaspar-Oliveri (who co-created the successful high school series, Those Who Blush) partially based the story (co-written with Claudia Bottino) on his own life, which seems evident given the emotional authenticity of his characters. Murgia’s portrayal of Enzo is the movie’s breakthrough performance, although Romane Fringeli, who plays the 19-year-old’s abrasive older sister, Carla, is also a standout. Bouillon, meanwhile, continues a string of strong turns (including in The Birthday Party, which screened in Cannes’ main competition this year) that began back in 2022 with Dominik Moll’s thriller The Night of the 12th.

The opening scene, lensed by Martin Rit in grainy close-ups, shows Enzo and Carla carelessly sleeping in bed together, their bodies subtly rising and falling with each breath. It seems like a blissful moment between the two siblings, who share a tight if volatile bond. But as the film progresses and we learn more about their childhood, that scene takes on a very different meaning: one in which proximity can breed both affection and contempt.

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With no parents in the picture and Carla moving out to a college dorm, Enzo’s whole life seems to be in front of him. It helps that he has a burgeoning and very loving relationship with new girlfriend Laura (Héloïse Volle), whose parents run a go-kart track that seems to be the main source of entertainment in their working-class suburb of Marseille.

But the state of independence Enzo has achieved at such a young age is broken when his dad returns home after a five-year stint in prison. A scene in which the two discuss Anthony’s future with a parole officer underlines to what extent Enzo has become the man of the household, hiring his own father to help sell kitchen appliances at local flea markets.

Bouillon creates a charming if menacing presence from the get-go, portraying Anthony as a father who’s been out of the loop for too long with regards to both family and civilian life, yet still wants to be in charge. In one sequence foreshadowing what’s to come, Enzo hides in a closet while his dad brings a woman home from the bar, witnessing some awkward and then off-putting sexual behavior. A latter scene in which the boy climbs in bed with Anthony reveals much worse, although it takes Gaspar-Oliveri a while to explain what exactly went down in the past.

What’s most moving about The Blow — whose French title can mean both a physical hit and a young hoodlum — is the way it charts Enzo’s gradual awakening from a kid who’s still too attached to his father, mostly for terrible reasons, to an adult who finally steps back and sees the truth, at which point the trauma is so overwhelming that it takes over. This happens during several explosive scenes in which Enzo lashes out at those who truly love him (his girlfriend; his sister, who wants nothing to do with their dad), searching in vain for someone to quell the suffering.

Murgia is a revelation here, playing a loose cannon who’s also deeply wounded, like a battered dog occasionally showing his teeth and sometimes biting those who feed him. The early moments in the drama, when Enzo is trying his best to please Anthony after he gets out of jail, offering to cook dinner or lending him a few bucks, will just about break your heart. Because deep down, Enzo knows that by getting closer to his dad, he’s also getting further away from his own recovery. It’s the constant push and pull between trauma and salvation that makes The Blow such a powerful experience.

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