LATE NIGHT WITH THE DEVIL(2023) REVIEW

Is there a world where "Late Night with the Devil" could redeem itself? I'm afraid not even the powers of Lucifer himself could salvage this snoozefest. Set in the era of disco balls and polyester, the film introduces us to Jack Delroy (David Dastmalchian), a talk show host with dreams bigger than his '70s sideburns. Cue the obligatory prologue explaining Jack's lackluster career, which is about as subtle as a disco ball to the face. Hint: the ending is about as surprising as finding a polyester suit at a thrift store.

Enter sweeps week, the time when networks throw everything but the kitchen sink at the screen to boost ratings. Jack, with his trusty producer Leo (Josh Quong Tart), decides to up the ante with a parade of paranormal guests. We get a psychic, a debunker, and a survivor of a satanic cult's mass suicide. If that sounds like a recipe for disaster, you're not wrong.

Sure, the practical effects are gooey and gross, but the movie trips over its own bell-bottoms at every turn. The "found footage" gimmick falls flat faster than a disco dancer with two left feet. And don't get me started on the backstage moments that leave us wondering why the cameramen suddenly turned into documentarians.

Dastmalchian tries his best as Jack, but his comedic chops fall flatter than a polyester pancake. It's like watching DeNiro trying to be funny in "Joker" all over again – and nobody wants a repeat of that.

Despite its flaws, there's a certain charm to "Late Night with the Devil." The attention to '70s detail is commendable, even if it feels like it was curated by a tech bro with a penchant for polyester. And let's not forget the grimy nostalgia that oozes from every polyester fiber – it's like stepping into a time machine fueled by disco and regret.

In the end, "Late Night with the Devil" is as devilish as a disco inferno, but without the catchy tunes. Save yourself the agony and stick to reruns of Johnny Carson – at least he had real laughs, not just canned ones.