Horror double-bill: immaculate and late night with the devil

It’s not particularly hard to grasp the underlying reasons for Sydney Sweeney’s meteoric rise over the past several years… but for all her obvious sex kitten potential, she clearly has designs on establishing herself as a legitimate actress. She certainly gives a committed performance in Immaculate, a fitfully gripping religious thriller that, for all the predictably pearl-clutching cries of “blasphemy,” might as well come affixed with training wheels - particularly for Zoomers with a budding interest in horror. Sweeney plays Sister Cecilia, who enters a picturesque Italian convent where sinister happenings are plainly afoot. Not long after arrival, she discovers that she’s pregnant - in spite of an ixnay on any sort of sexual congress with a man - and is heralded as the next Virgin Mary. But miracles are never quite that straightforward and as the months tick past and she enters her third trimester, Cecila begins to suspect something other than the Hand of God might be involved in her condition (for those excited about the casting of breakout star Simona Tabasco from The White Lotus… well, don’t be. She only appears in the opening scene - which is too bad, since she’s exactly the sort of nun who’d inspire a crisis of faith).​

The first half of Immaculate is relatively plodding (it’s a slow burn without much of a burn), but there are some clever contextual clues sprinkled in - such as the charismatic Father Tedeschi (Álvaro Morte) mentioning off-hand his original background in biology, or the chapel supposedly housing one of the Holy Nails from the Crucifixion. It’s not difficult to put two and two together, but when the reveal comes - a twist that’s like Rosemary’s Baby by way of Jurassic Park (no, really) - the film does ignite with a certain sacrilegious zeal. The third act kicks up a galloping pace that doesn’t relent. Up until this project, Sweeney’s heavy-lidded gaze frequently contributed to an acting style that could kindly be described as narcoleptic, but the final frames - depicting her in frenzied close-up, wild-eyed countenance smeared with blood, her flawless teeth flecked with spittle, guttural cries of anguish clawing their way from her throat - are revelatory, like something out of the most far-flung madness of 70s Italian cinema. That might not be enough to recommend the movie, but it does hint at a potential movie star emerging auspiciously from behind the placid curtain of an objectively pretty face.

In Late Night with the Devil, David Dastmalchian stars as Jack Delroy, host of the 1970s talk show Night Owls. Once regarded as a rising star in the late-night arena, Delroy’s seen his popularity plateau amidst an increasingly futile quest to catch Carson in the ratings… which leads to him attempting a live, occultism-themed episode on Halloween night as a last-ditch effort to bolster his sagging numbers. The movie itself is presented as salvaged footage previously unavailable to the public. This is a deeply rad premise (the 70s setting, a time when late-night TV felt largely unregulated, is particularly inspired) as we watch this “lost” episode unfold in real time, with behind-the-scenes interactions taking place during the commercial breaks. Delroy welcomes the colorful psychic “Christou” and the magician-turned-skeptic Carmichael the Conjurer (a marvelously curmudgeonly Ian Bliss), but the star of the evening is parapsychologist June Ross-Mitchell (Laura Gordon) and her ward Lilly (Ingrid Torelli) - the lone survivor of a Satanic death cult - who supposedly shares a connection with a demon known as “Mr. Wriggles.” Delroy wants to summon the demon in front of his studio audience as a live TV stunt - which June insists is an extremely bad idea - but it would seem he’s in thrall to his own dark master… one that goes by the name of “Nielsen.” ​

Late Night with the Devil is a movie powered by that most precious of resources - a genuine spark of originality. The period detail and overall production design (making allowances for the controversial use of a few brief, AI-generated interstitials) are first-rate. The film is a gimmick, but it’s a gratifying one. The on-air footage spliced with jittery backstage energy lend the story an accelerated and absorbing rhythm. One feels that distinctly pleasurable tingle of being in confident hands. Still, one can’t help but wonder if directors Colin & Cameron Cairnes have made things needlessly complicated - rather than a straightforward tale of hubris, they hint at Delroy having participated in some sort of fuzzy Faustian pact that never quite makes sense. Dastmalchian (in a long-deserved upgrade to lead actor) is outstanding - his genial demeanor is tinged with just the right level of smarm - but it might have been better if Delroy were a bit of a bastard. His comeuppance, when it occurs, doesn’t cut as cleanly or as sharply as it should. That being said, this is fresh and vibrant horror moviemaking. The genre often feels akin to flipping through hundreds of interchangeable cable channels, but Late Night with the Devil - to use the parlance of its era - is one program worth putting down the clicker for.