Late Night (2019) Review

Late Night (2019) offers a rubber sharp, politically-aimless version of the Devil Wears Prada

Late Night (2019) is an Amazon comedy, meaning that it has been made available for 'Prime' subscribers as well as in cinemas. This, I feel, is where it belongs. On small screens, playing in the background as the viewer cuts celery for tomorrow's work lunch.

The plot follows Mindy Karling's character, Molly, on an uninterrupted ascension to Late Night show-writing stardom. I would like to tell you that, throughout the course of the move, she's faced with clever quandaries and socially-relevant obstacles and that this is a focused, brave and purposeful film. I'd like to tell you there is a point to all the cringe gags, clichés and claptraps, but the reality is not thus. Late Night (2019) B-lines to a sad, safe and predictable conclusion. The only thing standing in its way is a swamp of saccharine dialogue and relentless truisms, which might have viewers reaching for a power cord.

Performance-wise, Emma Thompson and Mindy Karling (who I previously thought was quite funny), struggle to capture our affections beyond the first act. Meanwhile, Hugh Dancy, Reid Scott and Amy Ryan head up a forgettable supporting cast. The film's failings cannot be attributed too strongly to its actors, however. The onus mostly lies with the script.

The first problem is that Late Night (2019) is unsure of its own genre and teeters between comedy, drama and political commentary but never decides which. It is too unfunny to be a comedy, too sentimental to work as a drama and has nothing of importance to say politically.

This vagueness translates to its character design. Despite Karling's good intentions, I found many of the characters to be painfully stereotypical. The protagonist, Molly, is surrounded by circumstantial evidence of discrimination, due to her South-Asian ethnicity, but this issue is not explored or represented; she just 'has it hard'.

It reeks like a script that wants to be celebrated for its progressiveness but is insincere in its dealings with race. The writer has not thought deeply enough about what they are trying to say about workplace discrimination, the result feels manipulative. The character of Reynolds, for example, offers sassy humour but never in aid of plot or drama. He is a token gay character.

This is a film that wants to be something different but lacks the discernible wit or intellect to become it, and so relies on political correctness as a crutch, to manipulate its viewers. It is selfish and problematic, in this sense.

Earlier in the year, Toni Morrison died. She joins a pantheon of writers from the civil rights movement (Maya Angelou, James Baldwin etc.) who attacked issues of race and inequality with ferocious wit and delicacy. The scale of that loss hit home for me when I saw Late Night (2019). I fear, in the clumsy hands of lesser creatives, we may retrogress in our dealings with these tricky subjects.

For interethnic dramedy, refer to The Big Sick (2017). For female 'writer's room' comedy, refer to 30 Rock. And, if you want a fascist fashionista, you'd better stick to Meryl Streep.

★☆☆☆☆