Detached Dave will sign o≠ on a quiet note
Aknowing laugh line on “The Late Show with David Letterman” this week was a bit of an in-joke at the expense of the host. In Tuesday’s monologue, talking about Hillary Clinton’s decision to run for president, Letterman said of the candidate, “This time around, she promises to be warm and approachable — like me.”
The audience appreciated the joke. His detached vibe is part of his humor; aloofness is his signature.
Letterman couldn’t care less. At least that’s how he plays it.
It’s all one big shrug, a silly hobby that somehow turned into a decadeslong career and managed to change the tone of comedy on television forever. Not bad for a former TV weatherman.
Keep moving, nothing to see here, he seems to say. Let’s not make a big deal out of this retirement. At 68, he’s still the network’s bad-boy, the fabulously successful malcontent.
The cranky old man of CBS late night will sign off May 20 and leave in his stead an array of eager song-and-dance, game-playing, variety-show types who seem desperate for our bedtime attention. Unlike Letterman, they are a tad over-eager.
Perhaps as a reaction to the uninterested tone set by the gap-toothed elder statesman, the Jimmys are sweating every night, falling over themselves to please viewers:
Jimmy Fallon practically grabs you by the pajama lapels and begs you to like him.
Jimmy Kimmel overcame initial desperation, succeeded in building confidence and now takes seriously the need to entertain.
James Corden will sing anytime, anywhere (most recently going through a burger drive-through with Jennifer Hudson).
Seth Meyers? He seems like he still can’t believe he got the gig.
Comedy Central’s “The Daily Show” is about to transform in the handoff from Jon Stewart to Trevor Noah. With John Oliver and Bill Maher doing the best political heavy-lifting and most intriguing interviews of the lot — both on HBO — the Letterman ironic stance is about to fade away.
Post-Letterman, expect Stephen Colbert to be completely engaged and tireless when he assumes the CBS late-night mantle on Sept. 8.
Letterman, whose whimsy and sarcasm — sometimes bordering on bitter zings — changed the tone of late-night comedy, never begged for notice. He began as the postmodern answer to Johnny Carson, seemingly getting a kick out of the fact that he was pretending to do a network TV weeknight show. The rest of the white male hosts eventually mimicked him. Craig Ferguson further deconstructed the late-night talk-show convention, playing with the camera, revealing the production’s innards, but Dave set the standard.
It was a winking adventure, and Letterman’s grin let us all share the joke.
After 33 years, divided between NBC and CBS, he likely will avoid the glare of the spotlight, just as Carson did, once he signs off.
Years ago in Las Vegas, when he could go unrecognized in a casino, Letterman summed up his show’s formula: “Get a great idea, do it until it’s beaten to death, then do it for about six more weeks.”
The formula worked and the ideas kept coming. Everyone can recite a favorite bit or perhaps, in his honor, a Top-10: the Velcro suit, the watermelon drop off the roof, appearances by his mother (via satellite from Indianapolis or from the Lillehammer, Norway, Olympics), Larry “Bud” Melman, the dubbed Osama bin Laden videos, Stupid Pet Tricks, visits to the Hello Deli, Stump the Band, Small Town News and Will It Float?
Blowing things up was a go-to sketch in the early years, along with other boyish fascinations. Lately there’s been less violence in search of giggles.
It was always the case that Jay Leno could win in the ratings, but in the culture, in the world of buzz and popular sentiment, Letterman was the one to beat. His departure is a bigger milestone, no matter how simply he and CBS frame the finale.
The CBS photo archive of Letterman through the years, with the political candidates, sports heroes, musicians, TV and movie stars and, of course, Science Kids, reveals Dave as the good listener. It’s amazing to see how attentive he could be. For a guy who feigns detachment, he was always a good audience for his guests.
By all accounts his sendoff will be low-key, in keeping with his vaguely unknowable persona. Staying true to the irony he nurtured in the late-night arena, he won’t give in to traditional network sentiment and hoopla now.