The War for Late Night_ When Leno Went Early and Television Went Crazy - Bill Carter [142]
There was certainly reason for some of the concern Gaspin was hearing from New York, but not enough to panic. Early on in his new tenure, he made a point to visit with Conan and have a couple of lunches with Jeff Ross. The conversations went well, from Gaspin’s point of view. Conan seemed to have a firm grasp of the situation. He told Gaspin he knew the show needed to be somewhat broader in appeal, but he assured him he was a “good Irish Catholic boy,” and when the audience came to realize that about him they would join the party.
At lunch with Ross, Gaspin was impressed, as everyone always was, with the friendly, levelheaded, and unflappable producer—and, in this case, with how in touch he was with the issues concerning the show. The numbers had come down, but they were still OK. Ross underscored his belief that what mattered most was doing good shows. Gaspin had no argument with that.
Nor did he dispute Ross’s other observation, that as August headed to a close he and the Conan guys were looking forward to Jay’s arriving at ten. That might actually help in the numbers.
In the weeks before his ten p.m. show premiered, Jay Leno would occasionally check in with Conan OʹBrien, just a call here or there to see how he was doing. They would exchange the usual pleasantries. Jay mentioned some plans for his show; they discussed a few guests. Nice to talk to you.
Conan thought nothing much of the conversations. He wasn’t wasting time worrying about Jay’s show. He was supremely focused on his own windscreen, where the view ahead looked sunny and clear. Overall he was well pleased with his team’s early efforts. The shows felt strong; he was proud of them. Of course, he didn’t expect to ease right into the groove, but they were getting there. Conan could see where the show was going and how it was growing. He had enormous fun playing with two wax figures of Tom Cruise and Henry Winkler the staff had found, placing them around the studio in various creepy poses. On August 6, outside the studio, Conan lined up a couple of the cannons that Ringling Brothers used to shoot people across the circus ring. He loaded up Tom and Henry and fired them across the broad driveway leading in from the gate to the lot. The wax figures paid the ultimate price, but Conan scored some big laughs with their explosive demise. The next day the Web site Gawker posted about the bit, calling it “awesome” and “one of the funniest sketches you’ll ever see on a television show.”
All seemed good.
But Rick Ludwin was still hearing from New York.
Ludwin, so long experienced in late night, always kept close tabs on his shows. With Jay yet to go on, Conan dominated his days and nights. Every day the numbers arrived; Letterman, surprisingly, was winning the viewer battle by margins that were on par with the edge Jay used to have over Dave. And most of the press—maddeningly, as far as NBC was concerned—continued to call Dave the winner every night, ignoring the category that really counted, the one where the money was made. NBC PR executives quietly decried many TV journalists for not being sophisticated enough about the business to understand the advantage of securing the younger viewers every night, and the relative worthlessness of Dave’s dominating the fifty-plus category.
Of course, at the same time New York kept asking Ludwin why Conan wasn’t making the show broader to draw some of those older viewers back. While never wavering in his own faith in Conan, Ludwin did understand the frustration of Jeff Zucker and his other colleagues in New York. All Rick seemed to be doing was telling and retelling the same accounts of offering up notes to Conan’s team but not seeing any results.
“And they won’t say why they’re not taking notes?” the New York colleagues