Late Night with Conan O'Brien – Episode 03/31/06 REVIEW

Somewhere between the quaint serenade of a familiar leitmotif and the incessant shrill of an ignored car alarm lays the compelling genius that is “Late Night with Conan O'Brien”. The venerable comedy program has seen many changes since its 1993 debut on NBC, but the one vital, remaining constant is the ceaseless energy of the host himself. That host is Conan Christopher O'Brien, a former writer for “Saturday Night Live” and “The Simpsons”, this lanky Irishman seem to only recently have embraced the undisputed success he has garnered as host of this show. Obviously still smarting from the failure of “Lookwell” with Adam West, O'Brien works unrelentingly to bring crowd-pleasing comedy night after night, often times without the noticeable support of his otherwise capable writing staff who all too often phone it in. His most recent effort, the 03/31/06 episode, was just such a show. Carefully established comedy set pieces from earlier in the week were unceremoniously dropped in favor of unfunny stock drivel and added time for mind-numbingly dull guests. Another tragic shame in the greater pop culture landscape we all must inhabit.

“Late Night” is built on the utter sameness of certain re-occurring shtick and on-screen relations. These elements can be comedy gold when properly implemented, but when things aren't running on all cylinders in the creative sense, they become a droll blather of rehashed tripe. Witness the awkward nightly exchanges between O'Brien and bandleader Max Weinberg, forever ending in dull, uncomfortable silence. This bit is always good for a hearty laugh, sure, but never should it be the comedic high point of a “Late Night” episode. This night it most certainly was, as the other prepared comedy fell far short of the previously established bar of excellence put forth as recently as the previous evening. Episode 03/31/06, or, as a lesser meticulous individual may put it, Friday's show, offered only a half baked “If They Mated” bit, a staple of the show since the beginning in which the basic sight-gag possibilities of Photoshop are touted ad nauseam, and a truly blah taped phony-ad bit about a large fake eye ball product that allows users to download online pornography straight into one's brain. This piece is obviously something that has been sitting in the drawer for a rainy day, only problem is, as Conan himself pointed out during his early-show “desk chat” segment, it was seventy degrees that day, and the first truly beautiful day of Spring-like weather. Well whoopee-friggin'-doo, a nice day in the Big Apple! Does every television comedy writer get to drop everything and spend the day playing Frisbee in Central Park for this occasion, or just the ones at “Late Night”? Our affable host was virtually trapped behind his desk amid a sea of lukewarm mediocrity. Best taunt horn player La Bamba one more time with a made-up perverted accusation, and make the best of things, eh?

O'Brien was not helped by the tepid guest line-up of the always dull Antonio Banderas (“Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever”), the not-yet-famous Seth Meyers (SNL) and the newfangled country music super-group The Little Willies, who simply proved to be an off-kilter smash-up of member Norah Jones' sleepy style, and a few well-meaning Nashville fiddlers. Director Allan Kartun brought nothing innovative to the table for this exercise in televised disappointment. Utilizing the same old camera angles and cutting techniques spoon fed to audiences of the late night chat show since its inception over fifty years ago, Kartun's lazy visual aesthetic left much to be desired on this truly forgettable of nights. Even the episode's notorious opening comedy monologue was besieged with the blahs, as misfired jabs at George W. Bush and David Hasselhoff (and the undeserving K.I.T.T., for that matter) led the host to do some impomptu spinning ala Lynda Carter's Wonder Woman. Unfortunately, O'Brien did not change into the Amazon princess, meaning he could not then brandish his magic lasso in hopes of uncovering the sinister truth behind what was wrong with this show. Also, he unfortunately could not then deflect the bullets of audience boredom hurling his way unrelentingly, nor could he simply jump into his invisible jet and better spend his time driving back the Nazi menace of WWII. If such things were to have a transpired, then perhaps this negative review would not be necessary, and the world would be all the better. For it is on nights like this, I find myself wishing I could truly purchase the garish oversized eyeball put forth as “comedy” on this episode – not for the purposes of downloading pornography, but rather to obscure the disappointment from my actual eyes.

Those wishing to experience the true potential genius that “Late Night with Conan O'Brien” can be need look no further than Episode 03/30/06, or “Thursday's show”, for the unsophisticated lunk-heads among us. This glorious episode, predating the train wreck detailed above by twenty-four measly hours, (long enough for Kiefer Sutherland to save the world five times in a row, but obviously not enough time to continue simple humorous momentum through one more night) featured not only spot-on comedy, but also guests at the top of their game. The week leading up to this program offered re-occurring looks at “Late Night's” interpretation of Toronto's new “Lord of the Rings” musical, and ways that its producers might be trying to save it. We witnessed a hammy B-way tap dancing Gandalf, followed the next night by a “Movin' Out” version, with hobbits singing parody Billy Joel lyrics. On 03/30/06, we were treated to a Blue Collar Comedy version of the musical, in which a mulleted Jeff Foxworthy Frodo tells us that if you spend more time in the Shire than you do in shower, you might be a hobbit! All of this culminates with the pixilated obstructed full frontal nudity of a singing Gollum. This is the type of inspired material that all audiences both live and at home, both smart and stupid, can fully appreciate. Considering the building nature of re-occurring comedy sketches on the show in the past, it was safe to assume that Friday's show (or Episode 03/31/06, as it might also be known to tightwads) would feature the grandest and funniest take on the LOTR musical yet. Alas, this farcical nirvana was not to be. All thanks to a seventy degree beautiful day, over-planning for an over-hyped trip to Chicago for a week of shows, and an obvious transparent self-esteem problem on the part of the host himself. In the future, O'Brien should stop desperately trying to change into 1970s TV super-hero icons as a means of escaping his on-air insufficiencies (whether he is to ultimately blame for them or not), and consider professional help. At the very least, he should stay within his own gender for such attempts in the future. I for one will guarantee that hi-def broadcasting will not be kind to the sight of a middle aged Conan O'Brien decked out in star-spangled panties with a tiara. I'd stake my membership in the Chicago Film Critics Association on it. But what O'Brien does in his dressing every night before the show is his business. “Lookwell” isn't coming back, and the sooner he can face that cold fact and get on with the show at hand, the better off we will all be. Amen, sport.

- Jim Tudor