He came. He saw. He conquered.
OK, Conan O’Brien, who hosts NBC’s edgy late, late night talkerLate Night with Conan O’Brien, may not be quite like Arnold Schwarzenegger’s mythical warrior, but he’s overcome many odds to slowly but surely become one of late night’s comic staples.
Late Night had a rough start in 1993 when O’Brien was chosen to fill the enormous shoes of that off-the-wall wonder David Letterman, who went on to greener pastures at CBS. The most-asked question at the time was “Conan who?” Even though he had an extensive background in comedic writing (Saturday Night Live, The Simpsons), he certainly couldn’t compare with the likes of Garry Shandling and Bob Costas, who were some of the original people asked to replace Letterman.
But he got the job regardless. As one of his early allies, The Simpsons‘s Matt Groening, told New York Newsday “He always kept the staff entertained … and if he can make a bunch of bitter, self-hating comedy writers laugh, then I’m sure he’ll have no trouble making the rest of America laugh.”
It was a daunting task, to say the least. The Late Night staff desperately tried to keep viewers–and even live audience members–in their seats, as critics continually panned the irreverent show. Yet, through sheer determination, a little luck and a lot of begging not to be canceled, O’Brien finally came into his own.
Eventually his blend of non-conventional talk show skits, quirky improvisational-style humor and relaxed interviews, turned into an Emmy-nominated success. He now easily taps into the 18-24 demographics (god bless those college students), and with NBC recently doubling his paycheck to more than $8 million a year, it’s clear O’Brien is here to stay.
Now, he’ll follow Dave once again, this time into awards-show-host land, when he emcees the 54th Annual Emmy Awards show on Sept. 22. Most say the skinny, redheaded Irish guy has finally made it, but as O’Brien once told The Onion.com, “It’s never over. You never really feel like you’ve made it.”
His pedigree:
O’Brien is no stranger to funny writing, but acting was another story. While attending Harvard, the Brookline, Mass., native was president of the notorious Harvard Lampoon. After graduation he moved to Los Angeles, where he joined the writing staff of HBO’s Not Necessarily The News and began performing with several improvisational groups including The Groundlings. In 1988, Saturday Night Live producer Lorne Michaels recognized his skill and hired him to join the SNL writing staff, which eventually earned him an Emmy for writing in a comedy or variety series. He stayed for three and a half years before leaving to do a failed TV pilot and taking a writer/producer gig on The Simpsons. In 1993, his old boss Michaels asked if he might be interested in producing Late Night. O’Brien‘s answer was no, he wanted to perform–so he auditioned instead, and the guy with no acting credits to speak of landed the job.
His mentor:
To the Los Angeles Times: “I identify with [Abraham] Lincoln. We’re both 6-feet-4 inches, we’re both manic depressive and we’re both in charge of a lot of other people’s lives.”
Did he always want to be a talk show host?
To The Onion.com: “I never really knew. It was more like process of elimination with me. I knew that I’m not an actor. Stand-up comedy… I never wanted to just memorize a routine and tell it to people. I admire stand-up, I admire what they do, but I always thought what I like is much more interactive than that. I was in college, staying up late and watching Letterman, and just thinking, “I could do that kind of thing,” where you get to tell a couple jokes and do stand-up, but then you can also present really weird comedy. But did I ever expect that Letterman would leave, and through 50 crazy events I would replace him? No, I wasn’t that crazy.”
The first year
To the Los Angeles Times: “That first season, I felt like a premature baby in an incubator. NBC executives kept telling the press we were ‘showing growth’–like our birth weight was up 14 percent…I don’t think the show is that different today from when we started. We were doing a lot of the same comedy bits we get credit for now–it just took awhile for things to coalesce.”
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And if the show didn’t make it?
To USAToday.com: “I used to tell myself that even if the show was on for just five days, I’d still be in the TV encyclopedia with Johnny Carson and Petticoat Junction.”
On learning how to “be himself”:
To People magazine: “When someone gives you a beautiful Porsche, and says, ‘We might come and take it away at some point,’ you don’t sit around and worry about when they might take it away. You get in it, you just drive it, and you have fun.”
On keeping the show fresh:
To The Onion.com: “To me, if too much is planned and it all goes according to plan, it’s not fun to do. You don’t want Matt Dillon to come out and we have no idea what we’re gonna talk about, because too often the result is going to sound like a conversation you’d have with some stranger on a bus. Like, say Matt Dillon was a male prostitute in the late ’70s, and that’s how he earned money. If I know that in advance, and I know he’s willing to talk about it, that’s a good thing to have in your back pocket, because it’s something we would have in common.”
On the competition:
To The Onion.com: “I’m not the first person Billy Crystal is talking to about his new movie, so a lot of times you have to make a strength of your weakness and do something with him that nobody else has done. So that’s why we always try, even if that means pouring hot tar on them. It’s got to be different. So, half the time, what we do usually ends up hurting the guests physically.”
What sets Conan apart:
Says Andy Richter, O’Brien‘s former co-host and sidekick, to The Onion.com: “He’s a brilliant, brilliant man who I hope doesn’t become as f***ed-up as other talk-show hosts. Because there’s something about that job that seems to make people weird…I was just talking to somebody about how glad I was to see him, and they were asking if I miss doing the show in front of the audience. I was like, “Hell, no. I don’t miss performing for tourists, most of whom are mad that we’re not Rosie. I don’t miss that at all. They’re despots, those studio-audience people.” And Conan was saying, “I still love it. I still love dancing like a monkey in front of people who came in on a bus.” He really, truly is a rare mind. He has a wonderful, wonderful comedic mind.”
Signs of success?
To Entertainment Weekly: “There’s a huge picture of me near the NBC studio elevators. It was taken a few months before I went on the air. Sometimes I’ll walk past it late at night and think, ‘Those are the eyes of a 29-year-old kid who doesn’t know. That idiot has no idea what he’s about to go through.'”
Who knows, maybe O’Brien will be the Billy Crystal of the Emmys.
