I lived my dream on US talk shows – the axing of Colbert's Late Show is about one thing
Such is the allure of showbiz in the US. You can turn up and become a star, or you can be caught cheating on your wife at a Coldplay concert. Anything can happen.
But over 15 years of working in American television, I've discovered how those showbiz dreams are underpinned by an old boys' club – men (mostly) in suits who all went to the same college, competing for status and bonuses big enough to buy yachts. These business execs aren't patrons of the arts. They're not champions of political causes. They're businesspeople who could just as well be in construction or tech or, if they're really daring, health insurance.
This underbelly has now come to the surface with Stephen Colbert's announcement that The Late Show has been cancelled by CBS. The decision came days after Colbert criticised the network for settling a $US16 million lawsuit with President Donald Trump, calling it a 'big fat bribe'. It's speculated that such dissent from Colbert had to be stifled by CBS, to help them secure federal approval of their planned $US8 billion merger with Skydance Media. The network denies this, stating the cancellation of The Late Show was 'purely a financial decision against a challenging backdrop in late night' – an explanation that would be far more plausible if Colbert wasn't winning the ratings in his time slot and hosting the only late-night talk show in recent years to grow viewers.
For the writers, the performers and the audiences of late night, these shows are a sacred emblem of the first amendment. This is where Johnny Carson cracked wise about Nixon during the Watergate scandal; where Leno ripped into Bill Clinton for his affair; where David Letterman had a regular segment mocking George W. Bush for being downright dumb. All of these presidents copped it on the chin because any indication they wanted the mockery stifled would be an affront to the Constitution.
That doesn't seem to be the case with the current administration, which has a glass jaw when it comes to criticism. Colbert himself put it best: 'Donald Trump has the thinnest skin in politics. If you just whisper 'Obama' near him, he bruises like a peach in a wind tunnel.'
Loading
I can only speculate with the rest of the internet about why this cancellation of a popular, prominent Trump critic happened at this time. But I do have experience rubbing shoulders with the decision-makers at these networks. I've sat in the guest lounge at The Tonight Show (where I would pray my jokes would get big laughs) while network execs stood around talking about golf instead of even watching the show they commissioned. They always seemed to be in their own world, competing over their hobbies, their private jets, their business deals, or the calibre of celebrities they secured for projects. Unlike the writers of these shows, they never spoke about politics. They didn't seem to care if jokes were left- or right-leaning. They just wanted good ratings to further their own careers.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Perth Now
2 hours ago
- Perth Now
Late Night host Seth Meyers fears for his TV future
Seth Meyers fears for the future of his late-night TV talk-show. The 51-year-old comedian has hosted Late Night with Seth Meyers for the last 11 years - but he doubts whether he has much control over the show's future, following the recent cancellation of The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. Asked if he fears the show's end, Seth told the Armchair Expert podcast: "I do. I mean, only because it is such a time we're living in, as far as the entertainment industry. "There is this weird thing that I feel like I shifted from fearing that I wouldn't be good enough. And now my fear is weirdly more outside of my control, which is ... just at some point, the ecosystem might not support [late night]. "I guess that's better than thinking it's your fault, but it is weird to not feel any control over it." Seth has also developed a philosophical attitude towards his TV career. He explained: "I sometimes take stock of, oh, this isn't the best time to be doing what I'm doing, but at least I got in. And so, I sometimes think, alright, I think the body of my work matters enough that the world knows Seth Meyers in a way that I'm happy with ... I've taken my opportunity to build a thing. I know what it means, and I think other people know what it means. So I'm happy about that." Meanwhile, Stephen Colbert announced the axing of The Late Show on July 17. The 61-year-old presenter confirmed that CBS had pulled the plug on his nightly talk show, with the final episode set to air in May. He said: "Before we start the show, I want to let you know something that I found out just last night. Next year will be our last season, the network will be ending The Late Show in May." Stephen - who replaced David Letterman at the helm in 2015 - added: "I'm not being replaced. This is all just going away. I do want to say that the folks at CBS have been great partners … And I'm grateful to the audience, you, who have joined us every night, in here, out there, and all around the world."
The Age
2 hours ago
- The Age
The viral fish burger might catch your eye, but it's not our critic's go-to order at Edita's
Can we all rally around the return of the great Australian dim sim? Along with other long-maligned or diminished food items such as the salad sandwich, the humble dimmie is seeing a resurgence in recent years. Of course, these things never went out of style in certain country cafes and school canteens, but recently everyone from trendy pubs to inner-city cafes has been re-embracing the dim sim, putting their own spin on the golden-fried meat pucks (none of the newer iterations I've seen have been steamed), and leaning into the collective nostalgia we have for the tuckshop greasiness of our childhoods. In Rathdowne Village, Edita's is taking that nostalgia and going one step further. Yes, there's a next-gen dim sim, which I'll get to in a minute. But Edita's is a full-fledged fish-and-chip shop, inspired by the all-Australian chippie but imbued with freshness and creativity, as well as the Polynesian background of the family that runs it. The small storefront, which was also a fish-and-chip shop under previous ownership, has been brightened and modernised, the main wall across from the counter covered in a large colourful mural of the restaurant's namesake, Edita, the grandmother of owners (and siblings) Tima and Stan Tausinga. Edita's face is everywhere: rendered in neon signage and also as a stamp on the takeaway boxes. This is a business built around family in every way, from its recipes to the various family members working in the shop every day. It's Tima and Stan's father's affection for a McDonald's Filet-O-Fish that inspired the shop's most popular (and somewhat internet-famous) item, the Edita's burger, which sees fried fish drenched in house-made tartare sauce with American cheese on a toasted potato roll. It's a glorious mess of a sandwich, but the fish is fresh, not out of the freezer, battered just before going in the fryer, and the quality of the ingredients make it more than just a tawdry jumble of fried, sweet and gloopy things. The fried fish sandwich has achieved some level of viral status, likely because of its nostalgic appeal, but my heart belongs to the coconut prawn roll. A brioche roll is filled with prawns in a creamy coconut dressing, with flying fish roe and crisp lettuce (which, as a kind of lining for the prawn filling, helps this sandwich avoid the fall-apart sloppiness that plagues the fish burger). The Tongan and Samoan influence shines through in the sweetness of the bread and the tropical flavours of coconut and seafood, and it gave me happy, beachy, summer vibes on a freezing July day in Melbourne. Tonga and Samoa are also represented in the chop suey spring rolls, a mashup of Chinese take-out staples with a Polynesian spin. The basics, too, are done far better than average. The chips are hand cut and thrice fried, finger-like logs of crispy goodness. Given all of this, you might expect Edita's to be pricier than your average chippie, but that's not the case. The packs in particular are fantastic value – $19 gets you a piece of fried flake, a potato cake, dim sim, chips and a can of soda. A family pack, which feeds four, is $70. The coconut prawn roll gave me happy, beachy, summer vibes on a freezing July day in Melbourne. About those dim sims, which are a family-specific take: the filling is a pork sausage that's based on grandma Edita's recipe, and the result is like a rissole encased in a golden-fried wrapper. It almost has more in common with a Scotch egg than a traditional dimmie, albeit one with no egg at its centre. Regardless, it's true to the spirit of the dim sim, in that it's a delicious Melbourne take on food that's influenced by many and diverse populations. The next time I'm asked what, exactly, Australian food is, Edita's will be top of mind. It's an example of the beauty that can happen when cultures collide, when a Pacific Islander family share its own traditions and combines them with our broader collective nostalgia and love for fried and battered meat, seafood and potatoes.
Sydney Morning Herald
2 hours ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
The viral fish burger might catch your eye, but it's not our critic's go-to order at Edita's
Can we all rally around the return of the great Australian dim sim? Along with other long-maligned or diminished food items such as the salad sandwich, the humble dimmie is seeing a resurgence in recent years. Of course, these things never went out of style in certain country cafes and school canteens, but recently everyone from trendy pubs to inner-city cafes has been re-embracing the dim sim, putting their own spin on the golden-fried meat pucks (none of the newer iterations I've seen have been steamed), and leaning into the collective nostalgia we have for the tuckshop greasiness of our childhoods. In Rathdowne Village, Edita's is taking that nostalgia and going one step further. Yes, there's a next-gen dim sim, which I'll get to in a minute. But Edita's is a full-fledged fish-and-chip shop, inspired by the all-Australian chippie but imbued with freshness and creativity, as well as the Polynesian background of the family that runs it. The small storefront, which was also a fish-and-chip shop under previous ownership, has been brightened and modernised, the main wall across from the counter covered in a large colourful mural of the restaurant's namesake, Edita, the grandmother of owners (and siblings) Tima and Stan Tausinga. Edita's face is everywhere: rendered in neon signage and also as a stamp on the takeaway boxes. This is a business built around family in every way, from its recipes to the various family members working in the shop every day. It's Tima and Stan's father's affection for a McDonald's Filet-O-Fish that inspired the shop's most popular (and somewhat internet-famous) item, the Edita's burger, which sees fried fish drenched in house-made tartare sauce with American cheese on a toasted potato roll. It's a glorious mess of a sandwich, but the fish is fresh, not out of the freezer, battered just before going in the fryer, and the quality of the ingredients make it more than just a tawdry jumble of fried, sweet and gloopy things. The fried fish sandwich has achieved some level of viral status, likely because of its nostalgic appeal, but my heart belongs to the coconut prawn roll. A brioche roll is filled with prawns in a creamy coconut dressing, with flying fish roe and crisp lettuce (which, as a kind of lining for the prawn filling, helps this sandwich avoid the fall-apart sloppiness that plagues the fish burger). The Tongan and Samoan influence shines through in the sweetness of the bread and the tropical flavours of coconut and seafood, and it gave me happy, beachy, summer vibes on a freezing July day in Melbourne. Tonga and Samoa are also represented in the chop suey spring rolls, a mashup of Chinese take-out staples with a Polynesian spin. The basics, too, are done far better than average. The chips are hand cut and thrice fried, finger-like logs of crispy goodness. Given all of this, you might expect Edita's to be pricier than your average chippie, but that's not the case. The packs in particular are fantastic value – $19 gets you a piece of fried flake, a potato cake, dim sim, chips and a can of soda. A family pack, which feeds four, is $70. The coconut prawn roll gave me happy, beachy, summer vibes on a freezing July day in Melbourne. About those dim sims, which are a family-specific take: the filling is a pork sausage that's based on grandma Edita's recipe, and the result is like a rissole encased in a golden-fried wrapper. It almost has more in common with a Scotch egg than a traditional dimmie, albeit one with no egg at its centre. Regardless, it's true to the spirit of the dim sim, in that it's a delicious Melbourne take on food that's influenced by many and diverse populations. The next time I'm asked what, exactly, Australian food is, Edita's will be top of mind. It's an example of the beauty that can happen when cultures collide, when a Pacific Islander family share its own traditions and combines them with our broader collective nostalgia and love for fried and battered meat, seafood and potatoes.
