LATE NIGHT (2019)

Starring Emma Thompson, Mindy Kaling, John Lithgow

Directed by Nisha Ganatra

Written by Mindy Kaling

Distributed by Amazon Studios. 86 minutes. Opening this Friday at ArcLight Hollywood and The Landmark.

This buzzy Sundance 2019 title finds a bright-eyed Mindy Kaling going up against the steely wit of Emma Thompson. Kaling’s character, Molly Patel, is trying to lock down a writing job at a late night talk show. Unluckily for her, the woman running the show, Katherine Newbury (Emma Thompson) hates mentoring other women. Or anyone, really. Yet, she’s forced to reconsider when called out for the bad optics of staffing only men. This workplace comedy puts questions of diversity and representation at its center, but its commentary proves more blurry than biting.

Late Night finds two (real life) television professionals telling the story of a (fictional) television show. The real-life pros are Mindy Kaling and Nisha Ganatra. Kaling is the film’s screenwriter and star and has been celebrated for her work writing and starring in The Office and The Mindy Project. Director Nisha Ganatra, meanwhile, has lent her directorial talent to a bevy of well-loved shows, from Brooklyn-99 to Fresh Off the Boat, and Dear White People.

The depth of insight these two creators have into the details of television production makes the lack of focus in their critique of the industry all the more disappointing. This comedy is a witty and welcoming watch, but messy characterization choices pile up from the word “go”.

It’s such a cliché to say “There is a great film hiding in this good film!” But in the case of Late Night,  it feels all too true. The great film hidden in this film is a dual-lead story of two women, a legend whose fame has made her complacent, and a nobody who’s hungry and fresh enough to save the icon’s career while starting her own. As they meet, clash, and collaborate, they decisively illustrate how gendered and racial inequalities persist because of an institutional lack of access and mentorship, not some biological lack of talent or worth.

The Late Night we got bears enough resemblance to that film to make it well worth a watch, but so many go-nowhere side-plots are tacked on that it feels more like a double-length pilot episode than a film. For instance, once Mindy Kaling’s character gets a fairytale opportunity to join Newbury’s writing staff with no prior experience, she’s introduced to Newbury’s team of boyish men who run the slacker-filled writer’s room. A couple of men are set up as romantic interests and part of your brain is like “Okay, he’s a bit bland and I forget his name but I bet they’ll figure him out by the end of season one!” But then there’s no season one because it’s a film and you say to yourself, “Why was the central dynamic between these two women under-served while precious screen-time was given over to pointless, stalling romantic hurdles?”

Still, while there are not nearly enough scenes of them together, the fictional professionals Ganatra and Kaling have imagined are compelling figures. Thompson dazzles as Katherine Newbury, a late night host with decades of experience who is resting on her laurels so hard that she shrugs off the quality drop in her material. Newbury’s internal fire is re-lit only when the network has the gall to threaten to fire her from the show she built. She becomes fixated on the idea that “They can’t fire you if everyone loves you” and it occurs to her that the eager, new Indian-American writer on her staff may help her become relevant again.

Kaling’s screenwriting is at its strongest when she’s establishing Newbury’s dimensions. The film’s first act introduces Newbury as an absolute icon who wears sharp suits, wields cutting remarks, and warms to very few of her underlings. And wherever the material takes her, Thompson can convince you of just about anything.

That said, some of the script’s contrivances with her character stretch credibility. For instance, it’s posited in the first 10 minutes that Newbury has a huge problem with women on her writing staff, making sure every woman is fired within months. However, 10 minutes after that it’s revealed that Newbury hasn’t paid attention to her writing staff in decades. She never allows them on her sets and when she meets them she doesn’t know anyone’s name, instead numbering them like an elementary school teacher counting off groups.

So, which is it? Is Newbury so involved and competitive about meeting other driven women that her hiring influence makes sure they aren’t staffed? Or is she so ensconced in her own reputation that she doesn’t even notice the names on the scripts she received? A big joke is that Newbury has been so detached from the goings on of her staff that she didn’t notice when a writer whose material she loved died years ago from cancer. But at the same time, she’s been specifically naming names of women she wants fired? It would be useful to understand this workplace dynamic and the roots of this pattern since our co-lead, Molly Patel, is about to enter the arena, but no. The inner workings of Katherine’s firing of women remain a mystery.

Kaling’s character is similarly full of weird contradictions in what we’re told and what we’re shown. The idea for her character is sweet and subversive on paper. Kaling is a chemical plant worker who loves comedy but her only opportunity to participate in it is over the plant intercom to her captive audience of co-workers.  She supports the local comedy scene but doesn’t think she has a hope of making it until she manages an interview at Newbury’s show because they’re desperate.

This could be a wonderful exploration of the economic obstacles that limit voices in the creative fields, but that point is not well-emphasized. Kaling’s character is a bit too broadly happy-go-lucky for my tastes. She doesn’t have writing samples and, when she’s hired as a writer instead of, you know, writing, she buys donuts and makes a list of criticisms of the show so far. When she’s called out for not brainstorming more suggestions, she breaks down.  

It’s a series of weird choices that are amusing enough in the moment, but ultimately undercut the film’s insistence that Kaling is a savvy, hard worker who’s spent her life dreaming of this. She doesn’t deserve The Devil Wears Prada treatment she receives. No one would, but she’s cartoonishly unprepared in a way that makes it hard to fully invest in her meteoric rise.   

 But that’s enough complaining. I’m glad this film exists and I wish it success, it’s just so much less memorable and tightly-scripted than it might have been with a few more drafts. Still, there are small grace notes and laughs to appreciate. I love the portrayal of the absurd, everyday racism Molly faces, like when her co-workers look at her name and believe they should exoticize its pronunciation into an exaggerated “MAH-LI”. I also appreciate Katherine’s journey towards gratitude for the power and privileges of her public role.

Kaling and Ganatra are such established and proven talents in television, I’m hopeful this film will find mainstream success that allows them to write, direct, and support ever more daring projects. But in the books eventually written about their storied careers, this feels like it will be a stepping stone, not a major entry.