CLARITY OF VISION
Colbert on heresy, humor.
BY GLENN WHIPP >>> Stephen Colbert’s desktop computer has a monitor ringed with reminders — Post-it notes (“Joy is the most infallible sign of the presence of God,” Pierre Teilhard de Chardin), keepsakes (cards from musicians Regina Spektor and Jack White), directives (“Ask yourself this question: Is my attitude worth catching?”), affirmations (“Enjoy life: It is better to be happy than wise”) and one note that simply reads: “History.” ¶ When not in use, Colbert’s computer screen defaults to a live feed of the Earth taken from the International Space Station. Right now, the view has just crossed the Nile, the sun is setting and clouds are casting long shadows across the Red Sea. Colbert looks at these images whenever he’s feeling anxious. There’s the whole world, he tells himself. Calm down.
Professionally, at least, Colbert has little reason for worry these days. “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert” has reigned as late-night’s top program since February, and the recent “Russia Week” segments featuring Colbert visiting Moscow and St. Petersburg drew nearly half a million more viewers than its closest competitor, “The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon.”
It’s a remarkable reversal for Colbert, who’ll be the first to admit that he stumbled out of the gate when he launched “The Late Show” on CBS in September 2015. “I was not indulging my own instincts, I’ll tell you that,” Colbert says.
That’s no longer the case. Colbert’s blistering broadsides against Donald Trump and his revolving cast of subordinates have played to the 53-year-old host’s strengths, combining an intellectual rigor and bracing morality that make Colbert, in the words of Dave Chappelle, “one of the most important voices in comedy.”
Colbert, host of this year’s Emmys, took a break on a recent morning from preparing the show to talk about the trials and
triumphs of the last two years. News alerts on his watch pinged a handful of times — the Senate was moving on healthcare — and Colbert, a focused man given to staying in the moment, fought against the distraction.
“But you have to look,” he says, glancing at his watch, apologizing. “We add new material between 4:45 and 5:15 almost every night. [The show tapes around 5:30 p.m. Eastern time.] We don’t want to wait until tomorrow. There’s an urgency now. We don’t want to leave anything on the vine for the next day.”
There were a few stories this spring with a variation of the same headline: How Stephen Colbert Got His Groove Back. Were you aware that you’d lost your groove?
I don’t know why I thought going from one show to the other and trying to change forms wouldn’t be difficult and painful. But I had this weird feeling that it would be somehow easier than it was. Not easy. But easier.
You don’t want to have the exhaustion and anxiety of trying to find a new voice, but it’s just part and parcel of it sometimes. And I realized I took the job so that would happen, and it comes with some rough road at first. I took the job to be challenged. I was getting a little bit on autopilot with the old show. And that’s certainly not the case now.
It sometimes felt like you were so intent on creating this new thing, this new identity, that you drifted from things that genuinely interested you.
We purposely threw out the baby with the bathwater. And we didn’t realize it until a year in. So we re-indulged our appetites, if you know what I mean. It’s not so much “groove back” as giving ourselves permission to do what we like. [Pauses.] We stepped away from politics to a fault. How about that?
Why do you think it took awhile for you to realize that?
I was trying to do everything — to a fault. I remember on the anniversary of doing the show for a year, I was shaving, looking in the mirror and, as I was wiping the last of the shaving cream off, I went, “God, this is a hard year.” Then I thought immediately, “I wouldn’t have traded it for anything.” Because how would I have learned a new skill? How would I have learned to be able to do a monologue? How would I have changed my voice at all if it hadn’t been for the challenge of this year?
When you did that Showtime election night special, you ended with a moving monologue saying that we “drank too much of the poison” and that we should focus on what we have in common as Americans …
Right. But every time I think that, I also have to remind myself how short I fall of what I hoped for when I said that. That poison cup, man. It’s very hard not to drink from. It’s very tasty.
How do you negotiate the tone of your political commentary without chugging from that cup?
Imperfectly. The way I’ve tried to explain it — both internally and to other people in the business, not the press — is that, at our best, we don’t engage in burning things to the ground. We point to things that are on fire and say, “Do you think that should be on fire? I think that we can all agree it’s on fire, OK? Now, is