by Hank Brockett
“If you’ve got it, flaunt it girlfriend!”
As the ink dries on the latest dark night and the evening news caps its broadcast with an “And finally ...” quirk, America turns to the late night talk show for a laugh before the head hits the pillow. If we’re lucky, there’s at least one pluckable jewel for the next day’s water cooler.
But in late night programming, you’re either an institution or a failure, a Johnny Carson or a Chevy Chase. To dive into such dangerous waters requires braggadocio or a really, really desperate network.
We’re less than 10 shows into ABC’s Jimmy Kimmel Live experiment, but there’s ample evidence that the show should be a post-Nightline mainstay and worth a few minutes less sleep.
The reputation of Kimmel precedes him, if only to tap into his existing fan base. The former host of The Man Show and Win Ben Stein’s Money on Comedy Central and a contributor to Fox’s Sunday pregame show arrives as a guy’s guy. He drinks, swears and previously supported the notion of girls jumping on trampolines.
His new show, though, retains the spirit if not the shtick. Through an inventive combination of gimmicks and public mishaps, the only live late night show crackles with an energy seldom seen on the television spectrum.
Take the first show, shown before Raider Nation’s tears had dried from Super Bowl Sunday. With rapper and guest host Snoop Dogg (each guest host serves a one-week stint), the show created a legitimate feeling that anything could happen next. In between jokes about Snoop’s decision to stop smoking marijuana, an interview with Bucs coach Jon Gruden resulted in technical difficulties and a girl in the audience threw up and needed escort out of the building.
It was like an MTV awards show without a Michael Jackson tribute.
That the energy continued throughout the week showcased Kimmel’s quick wit and his writers’ flair for the absurd. In a parody of NBC’s “Blizzard Monday” promotion, a deluge of fake snowflakes blasted the set, nearly killing Kimmel in the process. And a bit last Thursday involving Snoop Dogg selling all his paraphernalia at a garage sale offered immediate rewards for consistent fans of the show “in” on the joke.
Because to survive at 11:05 p.m. takes an outright appeal to the sometimes smart but mostly deranged audience known as college-aged students. Conan O’ Brien thrived on this crowd as he built his show into viable entertainment and Craig Kilborn actively seeks out the too-cool-for-school sect with smarmy charm.
Is there an audience available, even as Jay Leno and David Letterman finish the last half hour of their show? We’ll see. Quality-wise, Kimmel’s first half hour consistently entertains, just as the other shows turn to the B-list celebrity and a lame comedian.
Such comparisons reveal how fresh the Kimmel vision feels. Ignore the drinking and drug references and realize what you’re laughing at. It’s the little things, like the outrageous questions and the self-depreciating attitude, that are lacking from the Leno and Letterman comfort foods. Yes, the late night seems safe with a knowing Dave smirk or a Jay O.J. joke, but doesn’t it all seem done before?
That’s why late night means more than something to do in the dorms. To those of us done with school, the late night shows cater to our smiles, in an attempt to wipe off the shocked look from an evening of reality programming. In watching, we keep in contact with what the culture’s all about.
Kimmel’s fellow hosts used to be able to make that claim. While Conan can thrill, he lacks the communal spirit his co-host Andy Richter provided. And in watching old NBC Letterman shows (now playing on the TRIO network, available in digital cable packages), his eye sparkles with the glee he can do just about anything.
Kimmel may develop that gleam, but for now he’s building a base. ABC already has taken away the studio’s liquor license, but one senses the news reports are free advertising. It’s the type of sell that exhibits the confidence to take the system and — as Ru Paul also would say — work it.