Staff Reports
In the swirling sea of late-night television, something seems to have gone amiss. Once a nightly ritual for many across America, late-night talk shows are now echoing a different tune—a tune of declining audiences and evaporating relevance. Amidst this late-night turmoil, Greg Gutfeld seems to be the last ship standing, pulling in audiences by the millions each night. His secret? Perhaps it’s humor mixed with a dash of truth. Meanwhile, other late-night figures are busier framing tearful soliloquies than inciting laughter.
Now, it’s worth mentioning that the kingpins of late-night TV from yesteryears, like Johnny Carson and Jay Leno, had a different recipe for concocting humor. They knew the trick wasn’t to push political agendas or unleash personal vendettas but to gift their weary viewers with a dose of laughter to end their day. Even Conan O’Brien, who endured some silly escapades in his tenure, seemed to understand that comedy’s main ingredient was, well, comedy.
In today’s scene, however, some hosts appear to have swapped their best tool—humor—for anger. Take Jimmy Kimmel, for instance, who recently used his show as more of a soapbox for venting frustrations than selling laughter. He lamented an ICE officer’s actions in Minneapolis with fervor, signaling personal outrage rather than comedic appeal. This approach raises a nagging question: can a show thrive on the fumes of anger alone? Kimmel’s approach might get people talking, but not necessarily laughing—a sure recipe for dwindling ratings if there ever was one.
Conan O’Brien had a point when discussing the Trump era in comedy. Many comedians these days seem more fixated on shaking fists at political figures than sketching moments of levity. By substituting humor with anger, they’ve been led astray—into the murky waters of political diatribes that leave their audiences more perturbed than entertained. People tune in to unwind, not wind up, seeking a temporary escape from everyday hassles like traffic jams and rising costs, not a recap of them sprinkled with fury.
The legacy of late-night TV once carried the promise of an equal-opportunity ribbing, where Republicans and Democrats alike fell under the playful scrutiny of the comedic lens. Viewers got to chuckle at the absurdities of all stripes, knowing they were in on the joke. But now, with the prevailing agenda-heavy narratives, that mix of equal-opportunity jesting seems lost. The moral of the story? If laughter is indeed the best medicine, perhaps it’s time for certain hosts to dust off their toolkits and find their funny bones again.
