Tag: David Letterman

Why Larry Sanders Is Brilliant

Published on by D. G. Hart54 Comments

John Fea is sad to see David Letterman go. I am too, even though I haven’t watched late night television for a long time. I am equally sad to see a younger generation of Americans (as in my students) with no familiarity with late night talk shows. When I was a kid, getting to stay up late and watch Johnny Carson was a chance to take a peek at the world of adults — not in the x-rated sense but one that conjured a world of references and people and ideas that seemed important and well beyond a child’s imaginative range.

Late night talk shows are incredibly predictable in format but almost every effort to improve or change them has been a flop. Fea quotes from a piece that describes the success of the talk show:

Talk — relatively spontaneous, genuine, unrehearsed conversation — was, of course, the main point of the genre when the “Tonight Show” was pioneered by Steve Allen back in 1954, redefined by Jack Paar when he took the helm in 1957, and turned into a national institution by Johnny Carson in the ’60s and ’70s. Here was a place where show-business celebrities could drop at least some of their public persona and give us a glimpse of what they were “really” like. Sure, that glimpse was always a little stage-managed — the conversational topics screened, the anecdotes carefully baked. But those nightly sessions on the “Tonight Show” guest couch were a relaxed, human-scale refuge in a hype-filled showbiz world.

And this is what makes the Larry Sanders Show brilliant — that is, the HBO series that Garry Shandling made about late night talk shows, one part homage, one part mocumentary. Since the show within the show was going to have Larry Sanders, the fictional host, interviewing and hosting guest stars, Shandling had to decide whether the guests were also going to be fictional like Larry and Hank (the Ed McMahon figure), or whether they were going to be real. Shandling decided to have the guest stars “play” themselves. So when Alec Baldwin comes on, he is playing himself.

And that points to part of the shows genius. Is Baldwin playing himself? Is he being Alec? Or is he presenting Alec Baldwin as something other than himself? For non-baby boomers this might be way too much irony. But for fans of Letterman, who made self-awareness and irony part and parcel of his show — mocking the talk show format, mugging before the camera, bringing stage personnel into the show — Sanders brought even more attention to the unique dynamics of a show that the networks cannot abandon even if younger viewers aren’t watching.

My Brush With Greatness

Published on by D. G. Hart21 Comments

Maybe it is just me, but back in the day when I could stay up late enough to watch the talk shows I wondered what I would say if I were ever in Letterman’s audience and his staff chose me to talk about my encounter with a celebrity.

One instance, and I mentioned this to the college newspaper reporter who was interviewing new faculty, came in 1993 when the Bulls were playing the Lakers in the NBA Finals. We were living in Wheaton and I was flying to LA for a meeting the same day that both teams were traveling from Chicago to Los Angeles for the third game. On my flight were the television announcers, Marv Albert and Mike Fratello. Of course, they want to the front to sit in first class and I took my place among the plebes. But first-class and business-class passengers have the same needs and when we arrived at LAX I saw that Marv Albert was heading in the same direction as I was — to the men’s room. And there, low and behold, we occupied adjacent urinal stalls. Thankfully, LAX has stall dividers. So at one point I might have told Dave that I relieved myself next to Marv Albert.

But I could also mention that back when I was waiting tables to support myself through seminary, I waited on the pitchers Steve Carlton and Larry Christiansen, who were coming back to Philadelphia ahead of the Phillies to rest for their respective starts. I’m less inclined to bring this one up, even though I was privileged to be working at one of the best restaurants in the city — Frog — and even though this was the year the Phils won their first championship. Truth be told, I was serving them on a Sunday night. My sabbath convictions not being what they should have been, it’s not a moment of which I am proud.

One last instance is my running into and exchanging pleasantries with Wendy Grantham. She is the actress who played the night club dancer that wound up with Lester Freeman in The Wire. I happened to see her while in line at a Trader Joe’s in Wilmington and tried not to look too carefully at her lest her very big boyfriend think I was checking her out. But I finally summoned up the courage to ask if she had acted in The Wire, she said yes, we shook hands, and talked a little about the show and her career (mainly a singer). I left walking on the clouds since I believe The Wire is the best moving image production ever made.

But all of these encounters pale in comparison to my new found greatness — the Baylys have publicized one of my speaking events. Last night I lectured for the Great Lakes Presbytery of the PCA. Once again the theme was two-kingdom theology. And once again I encountered some criticism — some were even willing to speak of 1k — but also much good will and fraternity.

I can’t say that the Baylys post gave me the same feelings as meeting Wendy Grantham, and I am a little perturbed that they used up two of my fifteen minutes of fame. But, what an honor.