Late Night with the Devil

Directors: Colin and Cameron Cairnes
Starring: David Dastmalchian, Laura Gordon, Ian Bliss, Fayssal Bazzi, Ingrid Torelli, Rhys Auteri, Georgina Haig, Josh Quong Tart, Steve Mouzakis, Michael Ironside
Running Time: 93 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

When actor David Dastmalchian momentarily drew attention away from Heath Ledger with his brief part as Joker's cackling, schizophrenic henchman in 2008's The Dark Knight, it was a reminder how even the smallest of roles can make a lasting impression. A few superhero movies later and we'd get a name to match the face, but it was his film debut that forced viewers to sit up and take notice. He wasn't the Joker, but it only took him a single scene to convince he easily could have been. 

Now after steadily impressing for sixteen years in valuable supporting roles, Dastmalchian carries Colin and Cameron Cairnes' supernatural horror film, Late Night with the Devil as its lead. Front and center the whole way through, he captures a flawed, fame hungry TV host plagued by personal demons, emotionally drowning in an exploitive, circus-like exhibition of his own doing. He and the startlingly authentic production design and practical effects suck you in, with the picture making the most of its found footage approach to put a wild twist on the exorcism genre.

After a documentary prologue delves into an unexplainably gruesome event that occurred during 1977's live broadcast of the late-night talk show Night Owls with Jack Delroy, we're shown the master tape of this infamous episode, complete with behind the scenes footage. Consistently losing the ratings battle with The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, the show's host Jack (Dastmalchian) desperately needs a hook to capture audience attention. His solution is an occult-themed Halloween episode featuring psychic spiritual medium Christou (Fayssal Bazzi), magician turned professional skeptic Carmichael Hayes (Ian Bliss) and parapsychologist/author June Ross-Mitchell (Laura Gordon), who's joined by 13-year-old mass suicide survivor Lilly (Ingrid Torelli). 

As the pompous Hayes attempts to expose the other guests as frauds, June reluctantly agrees to conjure the demon inside Lilly, with volatile results. Pressured by the network to go even further, a shaken Jack relies on his sidekick Gus (Rhys Auteri) to get through it, risking potential catastrophe and death for the ratings bump that could save his job. But with Jack still mourning the recent loss of wife Madeleine (Georgina Haig) to cancer and facing increased media scrutiny for his ties to a mysterious men's retreat, he hasn't a clue of the horror about to be unleashed into this studio.    

The opening documentary-style narration provided by Michael Ironside expertly sets the stage for the kind of recognizably retro programming we'll get, showing a lighthearted show montage of Jack goofing around with various guests, from singers to animal experts. But then it goes a few steps further, recounting his bumpy road to the top, which is peppered with public controversies that plant the seeds for what's coming. 

It's immediately evident why Jack's getting crushed by Carson in the ratings, as the filmmakers achieve an enviable feat of depicting a somewhat cheesy show that's just good enough to stay afloat but remains a far cry from its primary competitor. And Dastmalchian has to walk that similar tightrope as a host whose superficially likable and funny at points, but mostly a guilt-ridden, insecure imposter captaining this damaged ship right into the iceberg that will be the show's final episode.

Much of the rapidly accelerating tension revolves around Jack knowing more than he's letting on and  the sacrifices he made for this episode to happen. The definitive answer lies with young Lilly, but the screenplay's ingenuity is in how it builds to her big showcase by rolling out and developing the other supporting players over the course of this hour. 

Once all the pieces are in place, this fictitious program becomes the kind of addictive television you'd believe would have viewers glued to their seats. Jack urging June to conjure this satanic entity out of Lilly opens Pandora's box, with Ingrid Torelli giving off creepy M3GAN vibes in a performance that fluctuates between childlike innocence and repressed, uncontrollable rage. Ultimately though, it's her calmness that leaves the most unnerving impression. 

Bloviating skeptic Hayes pours gasoline onto an already volatile situation in his mission to expose what he perceives are mere parlor tricks. With condescending gusto, actor Ian Bliss seems to be channeling Orson Welles' legendary 70's talk show appearances, as the ex-magician condescendingly needles the three guests from his bully pulpit. The further he goes, the more Jack pressures Joan to push Lilly, hoping to disprove him. While we know the results will be catastrophic, seeing exactly how is another experience altogether.

Watching, it's hard not to draw parallels with Christine, the 2016 drama focusing on events surrounding the on-air suicide of a Florida news reporter in 1974. While taking a similar found footage route with that story would have been tasteless given the real life circumstances, it's worth noting how this deals with the premise of live TV tragedy. A Twilight Zone-inspired morality play about selling your soul, the creativity of Late Night with the Devil comes in its execution, which should ensure it an extended shelf life for many Halloweens to come.   

Drive-Away Dolls

Director: Ethan Coen
Starring: Margaret Qualley, Geraldine Viswanathan, Beanie Feldstein, Colman Domingo, Pedro Pascal, Bill Camp, Joey Slotnick, C.J. Wilson, Annie Gonzalez, Matt Damon
Running Time: 84 min.
Rating: R

★★½ (out of ★★★★) 

Drive-Away Dolls is an entertainingly bad comedy from a talented director who makes it more tolerable than it has any right being. So much so that while watching you can't help but consider just how much worse this could have turned out with someone other than Ethan Coen at the controls. It's primarily about this bond between two lesbian friends, with the crime caper they've unwittingly walked into finishing a close second. And while Coen and co-writer Tricia Cooke intended this to be released as Henry James' Drive-Away Dykes, it's no surprise to anyone why the studio wouldn't gamble on that title, which is actually more in line with the film's wacky tone. 

The movie's at its lowest when drowning in crude humor that occasionally feels dated even for the decade it's supposed to take place. But the real kicker is that the characters are fully developed and a smattering of jokes land, even if cringing viewers may find themselves wishing it were somehow less polished. Maybe if this wasn't well made, the scene transitions weren't so inventive or it didn't contain such good performances, an outright dismissal would feel easier. Unfortunately, it's still a mess, straddling genres while seemingly targeting two entirely different audiences.

It's 1999 in Philadelphia when Jamie (Qualley) and her best friend Marian (Viswanathan) make plans for a road trip to Tallahassee, Florida after Jamie's ugly break-up with girlfriend Sukie (Beanie Feldstein). But when drive away car service owner Curlie (Bill Camp) accidentally leases the girls a vehicle already booked by criminals Arliss (Joey Sotnick), Flint (C.J. Wilson) and The Chief (Colman Domingo), they're unknowingly stuck with cargo stolen from an eccentric collector (Pedro Pascal). 

While Jamie tries to get the straight-laced Marian to loosen up by taking detours to lesbian bars and parties, a determined Arliss and Flint are hot on their trail, determined to retrieve that mysterious suitcase and bag in the car's trunk, both of which are scandalously linked to conservative Senator Gary Channel (Matt Damon). But the inept, bumbling crooks are in for more than they bargained for as Jamie and Marian remain a few steps ahead. 

Playing more like a parody of a Coen brothers picture than the genuine article, it's best compared to their more satirical efforts like Burn After Reading or Hail Caesar!, even if shades of Fargo unexpectedly sneak in. While a cleverly shot opening sequence featuring Pedro Pascal's character hints at more comic intrigue than we actually get, certain details involving the retrieval of this contraband are funny. Most notably the scenes with these feuding, incompetent criminals and a memorable encounter with a local girls' soccer team. Beanie Feldstein also gives an off-the-wall supporting performance as Jamie's crazed ex that feels like the kind of role her brother would have played in 2007.  

Everything takes a backseat to the relationship between polar opposites Jamie and Marian, who realize through their witty banter and misadventures that they share more in common than originally assumed. That most of those exchanges pay off with some sort of visual sex gag is no fault of the actresses, who do their best with the material. In Viswanathan's case, she rises above this, giving a more sarcastically muted turn that grounds the movie and gives it a moral center. Sporting a Texas drawl, Qualley has fun as Jamie, and while the character is too much, Viswanathan at least ensures Marian's exasperated demeanor reflects that.

In addition to a really bizarre, uncredited big name celebrity cameo, Matt Damon makes the most of his brief screen time as a Senator on the brink of being embarrassingly exposed in more ways than one. But anyone expecting a mystery on the level of Pulp Fiction's briefcase may be disappointed by a reveal that's disgustingly humorous, but par the course for this script. Amusing to a point, you just can't help but roll your eyes, realizing how it sums up the whole effort in a nutshell.

Clocking in at a bearably brisk 84 minutes, Drive-Away Dolls is a minor letdown that ranks on the lower end of either Coen brothers' filmography, managing at least to team up two up and coming actresses who deliver the goods. But fans anticipating another cult classic should probably readjust their expectations to prepare for something closer to a queer American Pie. Everyone else will just be left scratching their heads, wondering why this didn't quite come together like it should.    

Fallout (Season 1)

Creators: Graham Wagner and Geneva Robertson Dworet
Starring: Ella Purnell, Aaron Moten, Kyle MacLachlan, Moisés Arias, Xelia Mendes-Jones, Walton Goggins, Sarita Choudhury, Leslie Uggams, Johnny Pemberton, Zach Cherry, Annabel O'Hagan, Dave Register, Teagan Meredith, Frances Turner, Michael Cristofer, Mykelti Williamson, Cameron Cowperthwaite, Michael Emerson, Michael Rapaport, Dale Dickey, Jon Daly, Chris Parnell, Fred Armisen, Erik Estrada
Original Airdate: 2024

★★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Destroying any and all preconceived notions about the viability of popular video game adaptations, Prime Video's Fallout presents a quirky, one-of-a-kind post-apocalyptic universe that's accessible to fans and non-fans alike. Its eight episodes hit all the right notes, telling a simple but surprisingly complex, action packed story that takes itself just seriously enough. At first, you'll worry we've entered one of those "mystery boxes" intended to string viewers along without revealing anything of consequence. But it instead delivers more answers than we know what to do with, generating enough creative juice to spill into future seasons. 

Envisioned by Westworld creators Jonathan Nolan and Lisa Roy, the biggest thrill is seeing how all the pieces fit to form a fuller picture by its end. Players of the game are probably well versed in the broader details, but those going in cold are in for a trip, with no foreknowledge required to appreciate all that must have gone into translating this to the small screen. And in recalling the better elements of genre staples like Mad Max, Star Wars and Lost, it also manages to sidestep the frustrating narrative baggage that's occasionally accompanied them. 

Filled with dark, satiric humor, spectacular visual effects and a trio of award-worthy performances, what most stands out is its timeliness, or in an even larger context, its timelessness. Considering the game itself came out in the late nineties, this interpretation arrives at just the right moment, mixing themes of nuclear war, political strife, socioeconomic collapse, capitalism and governmental control into an entertainingly subversive package that aims much higher than anticipated.

In the Great War of 2077, a nuclear blast decimated Earth, leaving a retrofuturistic society with scarce resources. Survivors took refuge in fallout shelters or Vaults, designed by a technology company called Vault-Tec. It's 200 years later when Vault 33's cheery, optimistic Lucy MacLean (Ella Purnell) volunteers to marry a neighboring 32 Dweller, but when a violent raid occurs, her father and Vault overseer Hank (Kyle MacLachlan) is abducted by the mysterious Moldaver (Sarita Choudhury).

With help from her brother Norm (Moisés Arias), Lucy ventures outside the vault into a devastated Los Angeles Wasteland to locate Hank. While searching, she'll encounter newly promoted Brotherhood of Steel squire Maximus (Aaron Moten), who's on a mission of his own. She'll also cross paths with The Ghoul (Walton Goggins), a gunslinging bounty hunter once known as famous movie actor Cooper Howard. Caught in the crosshairs is escaped Enclave scientist Dr. Siggi Wilzig (Michael Emerson), who holds the key to a valuable energy source and might be Lucy's most important bargaining chip.

Focusing primarily on three main characters, the series really revolves around Vault-Tec's history and how it informs their present situation. After a brief, but unforgettable flashback showing actor Cooper Howard and his daughter Janey on the day of 2077's nuclear attack, we're taken out of a 50's looking milieu that's technology stalled post-World II and thrust into the confines of Vault 33 in 2296.  Eventually, we'll not only discover how this whole project came to be, but its entire purpose for the survivors inhabiting it.

Everyday life down below and in the adjacent Vaults of 31 and 32 appear almost utopian at first, which is exactly what the designated overseers intended. And it isn't as if the citizens have much choice since their only alternative is the dog eat dog landscape of the Wasteland, complete with its deadly radiation levels and random carnage. 

The Vaults may reflect the illusion of community, but it's also a tightly controlled, antiseptic environment that leaves little room for independence. While easily identifiable as a cult, for characters who've known nothing else their entire lives and are deprived the freedom to think or feel for themselves, it's simply business as usual. 

Being the daughter of Vault 33's overseer, the innocent, impressionable Lucy is all in with Vault-Tec's philosophy until a catastrophic breach threatens to reveal organizational secrets her brother Norm is hell-bent on uncovering, whatever the consequences. The attack on the Vault itself is one of the series' defining moments, as a soundtrack of oldies play over a brilliantly choreographed ballet of gruesome violence, with the residents' idyllic existence juxtaposed against blood soaked brutality. 

When a traumatized Lucy escapes the Vault to find Hank, she's warned how life outside that bubble will challenge her loyal optimism. These are the sacrifices some must make to adapt and survive, in certain cases morally transforming into something they'd never imagine. No one knows this better than Cooper Howard, the once popular Hollywood actor now roaming the L.A. Wasteland as a disfigured bounty hunter who eerily resembles Captain America nemesis Red Skull. 

Cooper's motivations are the most intriguing since his centuries-spanning biography plays as a supervillain origin story, with Goggins bridging the gap between charismatic celebrity and family man we see in flashbacks and the mutated monster he'll later become. But once we're given glimpses into the Cooper's role as Vault-Tec pitchman and wife Barb's (Frances Turner) pull as a high ranking executive within the company, his downfall becomes clearer. 

Lucy finds the ideal ally in Maximus, a bullied squire from the Brotherhood of Steel, who steps into the position vacated by his injured best friend Dane (Xelia Mendes-Jones). But when a controversial decision lands him in the power armor of the knight he's assisting, he and Lucy realize their shared goal is best accomplished together. But not until facing down some serious obstacles like The Ghoul, who's after exactly what they are. An awe-inspiring western style shootout in the second episode establishes just how dangerous he is, as Lucy finds herself on the receiving end of his wrath for reasons that aren't entirely coincidental.

Trust ceases to exist in the Wasteland so the toughest battle for Lucy is coming to grips with this and accepting her life wasn't as rosy as she'd assumed. With intersecting storylines balancing simultaneously, all roads lead to the finale, which fills in a lot blanks, clarifying the events that brought these characters to this point. 

After proving just how engaging she can be as popular soccer team captain turned plane crash survivor in Showtime's Yellowjackets, Ella Purnell's superstar card is now punched with her affecting turn as Lucy. While the expressive, saucer eyed actress excels in the action scenes, what stands out is how well she conveys her character's evolution, slowly waking to the realization everything she assumed about the world was a lie. Through it all, her upbeat "okey dokey" attitude and inherent belief in good rarely crumbles, remaining determined to push forward without being infected with the bitterness that's consumed others. 

Purnell and Aron Moten share believable chemistry as a tandem, with the self-loathing Maximus suffering a similar crisis of conscious, wrestling with who he is and pretends to be, but still baring the emotional scars of a tragic childhood event. It's hard not to compare his arc under the knight's armor to what Disney's Star Wars sequels failed in doing with Finn's storm trooper, instead pushing that character to the sidelines. Front and center throughout, Maximus is anything but an afterthought here, with Moten carrying a large share of the plot.

Journeyman character actor Walton Goggins steals every scene as Cooper Howard/The Ghoul, disappearing into each while still somehow convincing us they're one in the same under all those layers of makeup. His flashbacks are a highlight of the series, invoking Once Upon a Time in Hollywood as the Rick Dalton-esque Cooper wrestles with his marriage and public endorsement of a very controversial program.

Goggins is also downright brilliant as the gunslinging Ghoul, ruthlessly letting everyone know just how easily they could have wound up in his shoes. Only by the end is it confirmed what and whom he's really after, hinting that he may still have a small shred of humanity left. And however brief, it's great to see Lost's Michael Emerson again, as the former Benjamin Linus brings his unmistakable eccentricity to a role that doesn't veer all that far from what his fans would eagerly expect.

The finale gives a lot up while still laying plenty of road for this story to continue as long as its creators want it to. Whether or not the momentum can be maintained is another matter, but based on what comes to light in the closing minutes, there's a lot left to explore. With certain characters revealing their true colors, uneasy alliances being forged and some questions still left about what we've seen, it's anyone's guess where it could lead. 

Fallout picks up steam with each new development, pulling its characters in different directions before delivering a twisty, cliffhanger finale that sets the stage for subsequent chapters. We're not getting more because we need answers, but to see where the story goes next. It's addictive sci-fi TV done right, overcoming limitations even the best in this genre face when attempting to deliver an adventure of this size and scope.