What if I told you a critical darling and a critical redheaded stepchild were more similar than you thought?
The horror of hubris is really something that should be explored far more than it is. The story of Icarus and flying too close to the sun is often used in the business of shaming others and keeping them feeling small; yet I think this concept applies so well to horror. Popularized in The Twilight Zone series, the horror of hubris follows the narrative of Icarus perfectly: The gods/fate/universe say something cannot be done, protagonist defies the stars to do it, gets cocky, ends up proving why the gods were right. So often we see a protagonist push the limits of what they have been allowed while refusing to empathize or see things from another’s perspective. These characters might also drag other characters under the bus in the process, Mr. Waternoose style, in order to acheive their own success.
Because of the very nature of their story, these characters are both simultaneously sympathetic and villainous. They exist in this place of being where their entire purpose is their dream, the cost being either inconsequential or seemingly impossible to fathom, thus making them very compelling vehicles for horror. I wanted to break down two films that have a lot more in common than you would think — thoughtless protagonists are haunted by the consequences of their actions. However, one film really drives home the tragedy while the other pulls back the emotional weight by making a protagonist so unlikable, we cannot help but to join the fates in rooting for her demise.
We will start with the former, and why I think this is the perfect retelling of Icarus and by all accounts, a perfect film. Spoilers ahead.
In the case of Late Night with the Devil, we see very much what happens when Jack Delroy “flies too close to the sun” in order to make his television show, Night Owls, a success. Throughout the duration of the film, we watch how in real time Jack Delroy is confronted with not only his past failings, but echoes of the consequences of his success. During a magical ceremony, Jack made a deal to have his show be a success. It is implied this deal was as simple as the phrase, “I’d do anything to be a success” or something equally as vague, with Delroy’s yearning for success mirroring actor David Dastmalchian’s when he was younger. Dastmalchian discusses the idea that when one is hungry for success or desperate for it, one will say things they don’t necessarily mean to convey this feeling (‘I would do anything for that role/I would do anything to be a success’). This thoughtlessness drives Jack to inevitably make the biggest mistake of his life — when he says he will do anything, this ultimately causes his wife to die of cancer. A grave mistake, and one that Jack never even realizes he made which makes it all the more effective upon it’s reveal to him and the audience. Throughout the film, Jack gives little hints of thoughtlessness one could easily write off as just normal behavior on the set of a show. Yet when it is revealed that his thoughtlessness not only cost him his wife, but the lives of countless others, his career, and his own sanity — suddenly Jack’s character is upgraded from unwitting participant to tragic hero. All he wanted was success, and he never wanted to hurt anyone in the process — he likely hoped to take them to the top with him. Watching this Iscarus journey is as horrifying as it is heartbreaking, and watching Jack stand in the rubble of everything he had once is such a haunting moment. I always expect Rod Serling to walk out at the end, reiterating the point how it is essential to be careful with what you wish for. Jack Delroy is a tragic horror character and one I cannot get enough of. There are talks about building a cinematic universe, or at the very least a sequel, around this film and I hope that it’s true. There is so much that can be explored here and I think Late Night with the Devil has the ability to be the new Twilight Zone with it’s blend of horror and morals.
On the opposite end, we have Unfriended, which is still the horror of hubris but more cruel. We have another thoughtless protagonist, Blaire Lily, but unlike Jack, Blaire has malicious intent. While she puts on a good front about how she appears to be a good person, Blaire is anything but — the movie starts out on the one year anniversary of the suicide of Laura Barnes, one of Blaire’s friends. During a group Skype call amongst Blaire and her friends, Laura’s spirit comes back to seek out revenge as she only killed herself after one of them posted an embarrassing video of her. At first, the movies parallel each other — Laura begins slaughtering this friend group while Blaire seems completely clueless as to why. It could be argued that, at first, Blaire is like Jack in that maybe she had some idea of who posted the video and why, but she never took part in the bullying or condoned the actions. Yet in the finale, it is not only revealed that it was Blaire who took the video, but she lied about it being her boyfriend Mitch — allowing him to die in the hopes that she would be spared. This is a stark contrast to Jack Delroy, who never had any malicious intent when it came to his thoughtlessness. Blaire openly wanted to hurt someone while never admitting her own participation. Blaire Lily is so absolutely vile in not only her treatment of Laura, but as she allows her friends to die for not owning up to her actions. While Jack has some sense of denial of his involvement in things, such as denying the spirit of his wife or denying interacting with the demon, we can credit these moments to disbelief that these horrors are real. In Blaire’s case, her denial is in direct response to flying too close to the sun. She is denying she ever flew at all which takes away from the tragedy aspect. While Jack is horrified at the consequences of his actions, Blaire is horrified there are consequences at all. If Rod Serling popped out at the end of this film, as Laura mauls Blaire to death, I feel he could only say “Good”. There is no lesson to be learned in Unfriended, unlike with Late Night with the Devil despite the similar narratives and plots.
Watching both of these films, I thought I was crazy for noticing similarities, an indication that I perhaps should get out of the house more and talk to a friend. But now I’m sitting outside by my pool, writing this article, and I still think I’m in the right here. Both Unfriended and Late Night with the Devil are retellings of the Icarus story and the dangers of flying too close to the sun. The fundamental difference is that Jack Delroy is the tragic Icarus we are familiar with, where as Blaire is the Icarus none of us ever want to meet. Both characters are thoughtless, and as a result cause the deaths of multiple people around them, most of which they are very close with. I think one of these stories is more effective than the other (Late Night with the Devil is my darling, forever and always), but I think they are both good films and have rewatch value. While one will definitely stick the landing and genuinely haunt you more, the moral to be taken away from all this is that hubris kills.
Or something like that. Where is Rod Serling when you need him?