The future of late-night television is in flux. The year 2010 marks the end of contracts for most of the major players.
Amazingly, NBC is sticking to its decision to let Jay Leno’s contract expire then. Will Leno jump to another network, perhaps ABC, when Conan O’Brien takes over the long-promised “Tonight” chair in June 2009 and Jimmy Fallon moves up to the Conan “Late Night” slot?
Might NBC fashion a prime-time vehicle for Leno? Over at ABC, will “Nightline” go away to make room for Leno? Would Jimmy Kimmel stay at ABC if pushed a half-hour later to follow Leno? Or would he explore a gig at Fox?
It’s all guesswork. Our energy is better spent watching what is than predicting what may be. The actual work is on display for all who can stay awake — and for the rest of us with DVRs.
David Letterman used to be cool, now he’s cranky and bitter. It takes more effort to watch him looking burned out than it does to roll over and sleep. Conan is smart, but not particularly inspired; Kimmel is both bland and juvenile; Fallon is multitalented, but might he work better in sketch comedy? These guys all share a naughty frat-boy humor that wears thin.
Jon Stewart is a mighty contender, but he ought to be happy with his freedom at Comedy Central.
Of those in play, the most versatile, thoughtful and consistently enjoyable presence is CBS “Late Late Show” host Craig Ferguson.
And not just because I’m a sucker for the accent.
Ferguson calls himself a “geezer,” but at 46 he can be as goofily immature as his late-night brethern. (Letterman is 61, to put the label in perspective.)
A seeming honesty, even sincerity, amid the snark and inanity, gives Ferguson the edge. There’s wisdom behind the silliness. He takes care of the business of debriefing promoters of books, music, movies, TV shows and such. But he does it conversationally, after symbolically tearing up the staff-written interview cards.
He ranges from slapstick sketches to somber reminiscences of his late father.
Unlike the others, Ferguson still seems amazed to have arrived at his position. He appears to get an endless kick out of the culture of his adopted country.
The Glasgow-born comedian regularly talks about getting his U.S. citizenship, his time in a punk band, his alcoholism, divorce and adventures as an outsider in Hollywood. He uses to humorous advantage the insult of the censor’s bleep.
Ferguson is an actor, director, screenwriter and novelist. He can exaggerate his Scottish accent or mimic a range of American twangs and nasal yaks, as well as upper-crust English accents.
What he’s doing with the standard late-night monologue is a thing of beauty. A natural storyteller, he personalizes the 15-minute opening, knitting disparate thoughts into compelling oral themes, somehow constructing a beginning, middle and end while engaging the camera, literally hugging the equipment and inviting viewers in for the experience. He puts his whole body into it, singing and dancing at times, shush-ing the audience and signaling mischief with sly expressions. He says he studied Johnny Carson and Jack Paar tapes for inspiration.
This spring, Ferguson beat O’Brien in the ratings for the first time. Is he Letterman’s natural successor? Many think so; his comedy style is at once more profound and less bitter.
He was a hit at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner, a notoriously tough room. And he’s due to have a memoir published this fall.
Maybe because he brings the immigrant’s view of America to light at a time when the country is reassessing its image in the world, maybe because viewers are shopping around in search of something different, perhaps because NBC made an odd move by edging Leno out, this could be Ferguson’s year.
Joanne Ostrow’s column appears Tuesday, Friday and Sunday: 303-954-1830 or jostrow@denverpost.com.
Sizing up the other late-night guys
David Letterman
Why he’s funny: He’s a true cynic, at home on camera.
Why he’s not: Burned out, tired and disdainful of the whole gig.
Best: “Great Presidential Moments,” especially when making fun of Bush.
Worst: “Does It Float?” and endless talk about his son.
Jay Leno
Why he’s funny: Mainstream, gentle humor honed by many monologue writers.
Why he’s not: Being the hardest-working man in showbiz doesn’t make him the funniest.
Best: Newspaper typos.
Worst: Dated shtick that would play better in Vegas. His banter makes Johnny Carson look cutting-edge.
Conan O’Brien
Why he’s funny: Start with his cartoonish long body and bouffant hair.
Why he’s not: The bad-boy attitude wears thin.
Best bit: His stand-up and the moving-mouth cutout.
Worst bit: The too-familiar moving-mouth cutout.
Jon Stewart
Why he’s funny: Smart political satire.
Why he’s not: Rarely is he not funny. When the news is beyond parody, he’s redundant.
Best: Deconstructing news clips, mocking politicians.
Worst: When interviewing stars.
Jimmy Kimmel
Why he’s funny: He looks so dull, it’s a surprise when he says something clever.
Why he’s not: Frat-boy humor geared to 18-year-old males.
Best: Unintentional joke of the day (and his online clip with Ben Affleck).
Worst: His Uncle Frank, a regular presence.
