Shucking Oysters: Cry Me a River
By Alex Allen
These days if you’re a late night talk show host, people are really watching you. But it’s not the huge captive audience of the past, it’s the huge Trump administration of the present. Since assuming his throne, Trump has shown zero tolerance for any hint of insubordination or dissent, from the press to the academic world. And now late-night television.
In July, CBS cancelled The Late Show With Stephen Colbert under “extenuating factors.” Colbert had the audacity to criticize his network’s $16 million payout to Trump and the show’s “inability to find a digital foothold” may have contributed to the decision. In its announcement, CBS said it was “purely financial.”
As Steven Zeitchik wrote in The Hollywood Reporter, “it’s hard to shake the sense that far from being a lone sheep who strayed, Colbert may be a lemming leading the genre off a cliff.” Viewership has plummeted, hosts have become less influential, and the entire format feels old. The question isn’t whether late-night TV is dying – it’s how much longer it can survive.
One of the biggest reasons for late-night’s decline is obvious: the internet. YouTube, live streaming, podcasts, have completely changed how we consume our entertainment. Clips are more popular than full episodes. Why stay up until midnight for something that you can watch a five-minute clip of the next morning?
In September, Disney, parent company of the ABC network, suspended Jimmy Kimmel Live! after he said in his once-famous monologue: “We hit some new lows over the weekend with the MAGA gang desperately trying to characterize this kid who murdered Charlie Kirk as anything other than one of them and doing everything they can to score political points from it.”
Brendan Carr, chairman of the Federal Communications Commission, immediately threatened an investigation, telling US television stations to drop Kimmel’s show or face possible fines and loss of broadcast licenses. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Carr warned ominously. Four days later, after Disney had some “thoughtful conversations with Jimmy,” Kimmel was back on air.
Whatever you think of Kimmel’s politics or humour, there’s no denying that his 28-minute comeback speech was the must-see event of the year, breaking records on YouTube, with more than 15 million views in its first 16 hours.
“I’ve been hearing a lot about what I need to say and do tonight, and the truth is, I don’t think what I have to say is going to make much of a difference. If you like me, you like me. If you don’t, you don’t. I have no illusions about changing anyone’s mind. But I want to make something clear, because it’s important to me as a human, and that is – you understand that it was never my intention to make light of the murder of a young man. I don’t think there’s anything funny about it,” the comedian said, his voice choking with emotion, holding back tears.
Kimmel’s attempt to clarify his comments did not sit well with many prominent conservatives. Trump, who’s complained that 97% of the jokes on late-night shows are against him, called his return “GARBAGE.” Piers Morgan said it was “hard to feel sympathy for Jimmy and his crocodile tears… He’s become a partisan political activist, not a comedic host.” The barrage of dismissive reactions to Kimmel’s return suggests that the fallout is far from over. I watched the clip and not only did I see a humbled man with questionable tear ducts, I also saw how a culture of fear and intimidation can make you say anything.
Late-night once thrived on a mix of absurd humour, cultural observations, and light political jabs. But over the last decade, it has leaned heavily into one-sided political commentary. As Jason Zinoman argued, “This shift has divided the audience. While some viewers appreciate the sharp political commentary, others feel late-night hosts have lost the ability to connect with a wide audience.”
Jim Geschke wrote that the monologue format creaks with age, “tone-wise, they are pandering and preachy.” But the most common critique is they’re just not funny. Late-night television isn’t what it used to be because it can’t be. We live in a different era. “No current late-night host has any relevancy; the real voices of television comedy today reside on Netflix and HBO/Max or podcasts and the still wildly popular ‘don’t-give-a-shit’ world of South Park.”
“I believe when the last of these current guys exits the stage for whatever reason, that will be that,” says Doug Herzog, one of the creators of The Daily Show. “There won’t be a successor to Fallon or Kimmel or another late night show in its place. Networks will call it a day.”
To the extent politics has hastened the end of late night, Geschke noted, that it’s a cruel irony: “The very force that gave the format its urgency in recent years has also contributed to its collapse.” What we are losing is our shared “cultural touchstones.” The demise of late night isn’t what’s dividing us – it simply reflects how divided we are.
We are living in a Trump world of consequence culture. Governments don’t go after entertainers because they’re irrelevant. As Neil Minow said (with no hint of crocodile tears), “Journalists and comedians are very good at revealing that the emperor has no clothes. This assault on information, comedy, journalism, and tough questions is reckless, undemocratic, and terrifying.”
