Posted on 18 September 2015.
Handed a lofty pulpit, a rapt audience of millions, a prime slot on late-night TV, and access to the most relevant political celebrities on earth, what does Stephen Colbert do? He jokes about ninja turtles, Donald Trump’s oompa loompa skin tone, and putting Meat Loaf on the ten dollar bill. It’s not that these things aren’t funny (the Meat Loaf idea, in particular, is hilarious). It’s just that rather than using his established power and new position as host of The Late Show to provide critical political commentary, Colbert devolves into vaguely self-aware silliness each night. He is wasting time and seems to know it.
Unlike his Colbert Report character, who clung to hot news pieces of the day, the new Colbert dances around universally inoffensive, often dated cultural references. The show opens with an extended bit about the irrelevant (and network-endorsed) TV show The Mentalist. Colbert makes a dig about offending his network then proceeds absolutely inoffensively.
Colbert warms himself up to make controversial statements and then backs down every time. When
Jeb Bush sits two feet away from him on stage, Colbert plays nice and misses the chance to provoke an engaged political discussion about his policies, as his old character would have done through satire. In a gesture toward combativeness, Colbert asks Uber CEO Travis Kalanick about surge pricing during the 2014 Australian hostage crisis. Bringing a months-old piece of news back into the spotlight, Colbert nods and takes it when Kalanick defends himself. After joking about selling out to big brands, the segment ironically ends up reading more as an Uber advertisement than a satire bit. Colbert then spends 30 seconds doing an empty bit about Sabra hummus and mystics, compares Oreos to Donald Trump, and wiles away a good chunk of airtime eating Oreos and talking about how deliciously addicting they are.
On Colbert’s new stage, not all bits are meant to be funny. Some allow the host and his guests to be vulnerable. Joe Biden, in a tender reflection on his son’s too-short life, shares his grief with Colbert, who then opens up about his own experiences of loss. This departure into the personal is one of the most compelling bits on the show so far; Colbert is at his most honest. In this moment, two celebrities are startlingly human.
But as Colbert works to assert himself as more than a parody, he often struggles to find his footing. After years of confidently addressing guests in character, Colbert is awkward when he greets guests without it as a safety net. When Amy Schumer comes onto the show (as one of his only guests so far who hasn’t been a white man), Colbert flirts with her like a recent divorcé on his first date back in the game. Schumer tries to pump up the energy by repeating an old and pre-vetted bit about stealing Katie Couric’s phone and texting her husband. Colbert chortles along and leaves us exactly where we were before we starting watching. His interview leaves no impact. To his credit, he tosses out the words “race” and “gender” once or twice on the show. But he moves on without actually exploring the topics.
Colbert is a funny presenter, and his new show has its moments. It’s just kind of boring. The satirical
edge that once set Colbert apart has been blunted. Now, he joins the ranks of white male late-night hosts who, trying to outrank each other in ratings, rub elbows with celebrities and big corporations. I can’t help but wonder how long his fan base will stay loyal before turning to content that’s more relevant and fresh.
