The War for Late Night_ When Leno Went Early and Television Went Crazy - Bill Carter [188]
Mainly he observed that the issue had become unnecessarily rancorous, far too smothered in emotion and accusations of who was right, who was wrong, who was smart, who was dumb. He had a lot of mediating to do.
Conan called a staff meeting after his letter was posted. They gathered in the studio: writers and producers, bookers and graphic artists, the band, the interns, Jeff and Andy—everybody. Conan struggled through a full read of the manifesto, though by then most of his listeners had read it for themselves. When he finished, the whole staff stood and applauded. Conan couldn’t say any more. He quietly left with Andy, one big arm of his sidekick around his shoulders.
Back in his office, Conan felt suddenly enlivened. It was done, and now he had no more fear—or doubt. The decision felt totally right to him. He could not be with these people anymore. He thought again of his addiction, the same one that had so tormented David Letterman (and apparently still did, almost twenty years later). Conan had put Liza and his two children through a lot, in the cause of NBC and his pursuit of The Tonight Show. Now, in just a few days, NBC had forced him to go cold turkey, and as of that moment, he felt free of it. If NBC didn’t value the show, how could he? It seemed to Conan that Jay had been perfectly happy to see the show he had hosted for seventeen years relegated to second-class status. Conan was not.
Several hours later Conan walked onstage to another extended ovation. Then, in what had to be a message in reply to all those network notes, he slid right into the string dance, before he let fly:
“When I was a little boy, I remember watching The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson and thinking, ‘Someday, I’m going to host that show—for seven months.ʹ
“NBC says they’re planning to have the late-night situation worked out before the Winter Olympics start. And trust me, when NBC says something—you can take that to the bank!”
Later Conan brought on Howie Mandel, host of NBC’s game show Deal or No Deal, who did a little parody, with Conan picking his career options from the silver briefcases held by gorgeous models. Conan wound up with “two tickets to see Jay Leno perform at the Luxor casino in Las Vegas”—prompting a ludicrously excited reaction from Conan.
That was hardly the night’s biggest shot at Jay, however. Over on ABC, Jimmy Kimmel went all in on mocking Jay. Dressed in a bouffant gray wig and a fake chin that looked more like the goatee on Colonel Sanders, he did a full-on Leno, from the high-pitched semi-lisp of Jay’s delivery to the high fives with the front row of the audience to the constant running commentary from his bandleader (here Kimmel’s Cleto Escobedo played the Kevin Eubanks role). The jokes were also clearly composed to be almost funny but ultimately kind of lame—which was exactly the way many unfriendly comedians tended to see Jay’s humor.
“My name is Jay Leno and let it hereby be known that I am taking over all the shows in late night,” Kimmel announced, punctuated with a rim shot. “It’s good to be here on ABC,ʺ Kimmel as Jay said. “Hey, Cleto, you know what ABC stands for? Always Bump Conan.” Late-night aficionados knew, of course, Jay’s oft-repeated line about NBC standing for “Never Believe your Contract.” Then Kimmel referred to the manifesto, and how Conan had said he would not participate in the destruction of The Tonight Show. After a little pause to let the setup sink in, Kimmel as Leno added, “Fortunately, though, I will!” During the laugh, he added, “I’ll burn it down if I have to.”
Kimmel kept up the parody for the entire show and was rewarded with comment all over the press and Internet. The upheaval at NBC kicked up the level of attention being paid to all the late-night shows. Web sites began carrying every monologue joke and other comedy bit devoted to the NBC debacle. No one benefited from the heightened interest