By Joe Hagan--The New York Observer
December 17, 2003
It was Friday, Dec. 5, and Mr. Kilborn was joking again: He didn't really care. At 2 p.m., the host of The Late Late Show on CBS was sitting in the Halcyon restaurant at the Rihga Hotel as a blizzard raged outside. He was supposed to catch a flight back to Los Angeles at 4 pm., and it wasn't looking good. But Mr. Kilborn--blond, stubbled, V-neck-sweatered--seemed unperturbed and relaxed.
He said he can't wait to retire.
"I'm a little different breed of cat from some of the other people," said Mr. Kilborn, referring to his late-night competitors. "I don't necessarily need the attention. It's not like a rush to do the show; it's more like a fun, easy way to make a living. I think other guys, they just can't wait for that hour. And if you watch my show closely--which you probably don't--I've been coasting for about four and a half years, especially during the second interview."
He waited a beat.
"I'm just kidding," he said, straightening his posture for effect. "I'm a professional. I'm committed to every interview."
That was more convincing, a rare glimpse of candor from a guy who rarely, if ever, departs from his persona as glib guy extraordinaire. In March 2004, Mr. Kilborn will mark five years with The Late Late Show. After three-year stints as a) a local sportscaster in Monterey, Calif., b) an anchor of ESPN's SportsCenter and c) the first host of Comedy Central's The Daily Show, Mr. Kilborn seems to have become what he wanted to be all along: honorary president of the frat house, Playboy magazine superhero, preening, quasi-jock smugster who has a way with the ladies.
But in those five years, the world has also changed quite a bit--wars, economic decline, David Letterman's baby--and Mr. Kilborn hasn't. At 41, he seems to be running in place, suspended in the late-90's Cigar Aficionado version of himself, not necessarily jobing with the Zeitgeist. Remember Craig Kilborn, who was on The Daily Show? Yeah....
He's still got an audience, of course, even a ratings bump, but the show has never broken out in a big way. He averages 1.7 million viewers a night, well below the top late-night star, NBC's Conan O'Brien, and neck-and-neck with newcomer Jimmy Kimmel, whose ABC show had a rocky takeoff last January. ut like Bing Crosby playing through in Morocco, Mr. Kilborn seems unflappable. On one hand, it can be seen as admirable resilience, toughness, Eddie Haskell unleashed. On the other hand, Mr. Kilborn's claustrophobic frat den can seem terribly irrelevant.
To be sure, he's unflinching, as in this "beliefs" bit on his Dec 15 show, to patriotic music: "I believe that many of today's youth are lazy and worried only about their nose rings and tattoos--but I don't tell them that or they'll spit in my latte."
And Mr. Kilborn has his fans. "I think Craig is just screamingly funny--screamingly funny," said Ben Stein, who last appeared on the show on Nov. 24, and who introduced his competitor, Mr. Kimmel, to the world on Ben Stein's Money. He said the two were simply different. "At Jimmy's best, he's the most insightful human being on the planet, but Craig is really funny."
He liked his riffs on news, even if they weren't exactly for sophisticates. "I think he handles it very well, with a wink and a nod," he said, "and if you're watching his show, you're not going to be a huge current-affairs buff. You're not the kind of person who watches Meet the Press and Face the Nation.
Instead, you're more likely to be tapping a keg, wearing a baseball hat turned backward and watching ESPN. It's Mr. Kilborn's passion for basketball, especially his George Plimpton-like follies with his beloved Minnesota Timberwolves, that tend to be the funniest thing on the show--because you can tell he actually cares about it. Sometimes you wonder why he ever left ESPN, where he kicked ass. He still has his "Five Questions," that vestige of the Daily Show days; he still manages to maintain a striking amount of interest during interviews with B-list starlets you've never heard of (Mya, Elisha Cuthbert, Vanessa Marcil), letting his natural glow of thinly veiled horniness do a lot of the work. And his musical guests are some of the edgiest on TV (the White Stripes' first network appearance was on Mr. Kilborn's show).
Mr. Kilborn said he wasn't worried that the late-night field had gotten crowded, with Jimmy Kimmel Live vying for the love of the fraternity brothers, giving them jocular, rec-room guffaws they love. Even though that show has teetered into existence, it has managed to eat into Mr. Kilborn's younger demographic. But hey, there's room for everyone, said Mr. Kilborn--and in any case, Mr. Kimmel could use some work.
"Well they got off to a slow start," he said. "I know Jimmy; I like him. It got off to a slow start, and I think it could be a little tighter--I don't want to give away any secrets on how to put on a successful show. Leave him alone, he's a nice guy."
Mr. Kilborn chalked up his November ratings to his warm, heartland atmosphere.
"I like to think the Midwestern roots are coming out and, uh, the guests seem to enjoy the relaxed atmosphere that we give them," he said, slightly coiled. Was he serious?
"I was somewhat serious," he said later. "I have to joke to say something like that--but it's true."
In the snitty back rooms of late-night comedy, the carpers say that Mr. Kilborn will be safely ensconced as long as Mr. Letterman is in power, because he doesn't threaten Mr. Letterman's reign. Even if it's all talk, Mr. Kilborn said he doesn't really speak to Mr. Letterman much.
