The Death of Late-Night

Dear Internet...

As you are probably already aware, trouble has been afoot at NBC. For whatever reason, they decided they were more committed to Jay Leno--an aging, unfunny, and now almost universally-loathed husk of a man--than Conan O'Brien, probably one of the only people on their network that could ever manage to grab that coveted 18-34 demographic. The drama has been publicized to the max, and parodied by the parties themselves, making late-night monologues must-see TV, something I can't imagine they've ever been in my lifetime. And now it's over. The damage is done. Conan is out of a job, and Jay Leno takes back what he now has to consider a tainted throne.

Watching The Tonight Show this past week, I thought to myself why anyone would not be completely confident in Conan's skills as a host or his ability to gather steam and, consequently, ratings, if only he was given a chance to grow. But then I thought to myself how many times I had actually watched Conan's Tonight Show outside of this past week. It wasn't many. Maybe it's because I haven't had TV in a while (though the internet makes that excuse pretty flimsy) or because I'm busy at 11:35 doing whatever it is I do at 11:35. I admit my failure to help Conan's cause. But no matter what I or anyone else had done, I believe the grim reality of the situation is that Conan was doomed from the start.

The credits rolled on his final show as host of The Tonight Show as Conan himself jammed out a sloppy solo to a Will-Ferrell-led "Freebird," (the symbolism of the song choice should be obvious. In fact, Neil Young's performance was appropriately threnodial as well) in a glorious synecdoche for his predicament. The solo was out of key, off beat, but he was happy and it fit just right, because as host of The Tonight Show (and Late Night before as well, even more so), Conan himself always enjoyed being off beat, off key, out of place, and that was what was refreshing after 17 years of Jaywalking. It was supposed to be a new era, a new style of late-night television, and it was exciting, like getting a new pope, a new President, or new pants. But instead, our hope in change was dashed, like when the new pope turns out to be a former Nazi, or the new President is too bogged down in politicking to accomplish what he really wants to, or no one compliments your new pants. It's a let down. In this case, it's not Conan's fault though, it's NBC's. Instead of investing in the future, they've effectively killed late night and The Tonight Show, which as Conan has more or less said is the one of, if not the most storied, prestigious, beloved staples of television there are. There aren't many of them left, and like 300-game-winning pitchers, there might not ever be another.

I hope The Tonight Show can survive this tumultuousness, and after only giving Conan 7 months to succeed, I can only hope that Jay Leno fails in 6, and we get another shot at redemption with someone, anyone, that's not Jay Leno. Conan's speech on cynicism was inspiring (and not just a little bit tear-jerking), but how can we not be cynical when we have to watch a man get everything he dreamed of only to have to taken away cruelly and remorselessly? But if even Conan can keep his head high and proud after being jerked around for months, then there's a lesson to be learned there. And where does it all go from here? Wouldn't it be wild if they offered the show to Letterman? The late night wars would come full circle, but no one at NBC has that kind of balls. And now we enter a period of mourning for the Death of Late Night, a 7 month moratorium until Conan returns in whatever form we're lucky enough to have him in. Watching his retrospective of all the fun they had in 7 months--and I was amazed at how much they actually did--I'm confident that Conan will land on his feet. But it's a damn shame it had to be this way.

Godspeed Conan. These 7 months can't go by fast enough. I'll be drinking with you in spirit.