celebrity gossip, academic style

So you’ve got a weird looking male comedian. He has flaming red hair, his humor is relentlessly self-deprecating, and he has real talent. He also has a certain demeanor — different from Leno, different from Letterman, different from Carson — that makes you want to buy him a drink, give him relationship advice, and ask him to your sister’s wedding as a platonic date. He’s not a star (clearly, he’s a television personality — like reality stars and daytime television hosts, he’s not an actor). He’s a comedian. Who ‘plays’ himself, whether in skits, appearing on other shows (Liz Lemon’s ex-boyfriend!) or interviewing guests. Conan O’Brien doesn’t play other people, he doesn’t take roles. Rather, he cultivates the image of Conan.

And ever since he took over as the host of The Late Show following the Leno-Letterman war for The Tonight Show, his particular persona has been built on a foundation of likability. I’m not saying the guy is the Ellen Degeneres of Late Night — forgive me, but he’s far funnier, and treads the fine line of respectability and poor taste in a way that pleasures me to no end. And just look at that face!

Like Tom Hanks and Jimmy Stewart and, yes, even Ellen, that face demands to be liked. I look at Leno’s face, and I want to punch him. I look at Letterman’s face, and I kinda suspect he’s up to no good. But I look at Conan’s face — and, crucially, he’s almost always referred to by his first name — and I want to ask him to by my screwball adopted uncle.

So when NBC made the decision earlier this week to move The Jay Leno Show back to 11:35, thus displacing Conan and his hard-earned Tonight Show back to The Late Show‘s slot at 12:30, the air was thick with electric potential. How would my screwball adopted uncle react?

Earlier today, Conan issued a statement that not only reified his established persona, but has quickly and effectively unified his fan base behind him. Take a look at the statement, which I’m copying in full:

People of Earth:

In the last few days, I’ve been getting a lot of sympathy calls, and I
want to start by making it clear that no one should waste a second
feeling sorry for me. For 17 years, I’ve been getting paid to do what I
love most and, in a world with real problems, I’ve been absurdly lucky.
That said, I’ve been suddenly put in a very public predicament and my
bosses are demanding an immediate decision.

Six years ago, I signed a contract with NBC to take over The Tonight
Show in June of 2009. Like a lot of us, I grew up watching Johnny Carson
every night and the chance to one day sit in that chair has meant
everything to me. I worked long and hard to get that opportunity, passed
up far more lucrative offers, and since 2004 I have spent literally
hundreds of hours thinking of ways to extend the franchise long into the
future. It was my mistaken belief that, like my predecessor, I would
have the benefit of some time and, just as important, some degree of
ratings support from the prime-time schedule. Building a lasting
audience at 11:30 is impossible without both.

But sadly, we were never given that chance. After only seven months,
with my Tonight Show in its infancy, NBC has decided to react to their
terrible difficulties in prime-time by making a change in their
long-established late night schedule.

Last Thursday, NBC executives told me they intended to move the Tonight
Show to 12:05 to accommodate the Jay Leno Show at 11:35. For 60 years
the Tonight Show has aired immediately following the late local news. I
sincerely believe that delaying the Tonight Show into the next day to
accommodate another comedy program will seriously damage what I consider
to be the greatest franchise in the history of broadcasting. The Tonight
Show at 12:05 simply isn’t the Tonight Show. Also, if I accept this move
I will be knocking the Late Night show, which I inherited from David
Letterman and passed on to Jimmy Fallon, out of its long-held time slot.
That would hurt the other NBC franchise that I love, and it would be
unfair to Jimmy.

So it has come to this: I cannot express in words how much I enjoy
hosting this program and what an enormous personal disappointment it is
for me to consider losing it. My staff and I have worked unbelievably
hard and we are very proud of our contribution to the legacy of The
Tonight Show. But I cannot participate in what I honestly believe is its
destruction. Some people will make the argument that with DVRs and the
Internet a time slot doesn’t matter. But with the Tonight Show, I
believe nothing could matter more.

There has been speculation about my going to another network but, to set
the record straight, I currently have no other offer and honestly have
no idea what happens next. My hope is that NBC and I can resolve this
quickly so that my staff, crew, and I can do a show we can be proud of,
for a company that values our work.

Have a great day and, for the record, I am truly sorry about my hair;
it’s always been that way.

Yours,
Conan

Note the themes, tone, opening, closing: there’s no name calling, there’s no mention of Zucker, there’s not even an explicit jab at Leno. Instead, there’s a sense of respect, not only for his fans, but the long history of the show that he has long held sacred. When he writes ““My staff and I have worked unbelievably hard and we are very proud of our contribution to the legacy of The Tonight Show. But I cannot participate in what I honestly believe is its destruction,” he implicates NBC, but he does it in a way that emphasizes the fact that he’s simply attempting to protect his show, its history, and the millions who have watched it over the last six decades. He’s not protecting himself — he’s protecting his show! Its legacy! HOW CAN YOU ARGUE WITH THAT, AMERICA?!?

Such respect is juxtaposed with his own signature humor, both in his address and salutation. The statement mixes an extremely serious call to action, a well-earned defense of his previous work, and clear markers of his personality to a tremendous effect: it’s the work of an excellent writer and extremely savvy member of Hollywood, and, even better, it is by all accounts the work of Conan alone. (As always, it doesn’t matter if it actually is or not — what matter is that enough people are reporting that his agents didn’t want him to issue the statement, but he purportedly stayed up into the wee hours of the night crafting what he “knew he had to do.”) The statement is thus constructed as the outpouring of his own passionate, dedicated, and innately quirky self.

This much is authenticated by the statement’s reception, which has been without exception positive. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such uniform support for a star or personality. In articles, comments, and Tweets, he’s called a “class act,” “honest,” “full of integrity,” etc. et. al. Even curmudgeon Nikki Finke really, really admires the move:

I’m proud of O’Brien for standing his ground and protecting his own and The Tonight Show’s future from NBC’s nitwits. There’s a rich legacy of that among his predecessors, from Steve Allen through Jack Paar and during Johnny Carson: they all refused to knuckle under to the network. Only Jay Leno didn’t. Instead, he begged like a dog for The Tonight Show, and then rolled over and played dead even after Zucker canned him. Then Leno stayed with the network and agreed to a 10 PM show doomed fromn the outset. What a doormat. Obviously, NBCU thought Conan would be just as compliant. I’m thrilled that he’s not. Hollywood should be, too, and publicly support him.

Because it’s the kind of principled position you don’t see anymore from showbiz talent who these days are afraid for their future livelihoods in this downsizing entertainment community and just grateful for a job, any job. As much as Big Media’s networks and studios think they call all the shots, and in almost every case they do because they’re so rich and powerful, here’s one of those rare times when they can’t push people around at will.

And in the hours since the release of Conan’s statement, the internet has facilitated the coalescence of fan sentiment. The Twitter hashtag #TeamConan hovers between the fourth and fifth trending topic, and a Facebook Team Conan page has already attracted 10,000 fans. IN UNDER SIX HOURS.

A quck sampling of #TeamConan tweets to exemplify the current sentiment:

Oh Conan. Lead. I will follow your pale, pale torch.

Conan, I have heard what they are planning to do to your show and it isn’t fair! Congrats on declining the offer! Fight man, fight!

Conan O’Brien has more class in his little finger than all of those guys at NBC put together!

I am for #team conan. Even the Pentagon is! I have never watched a full episode but might just tonight to spite NBC’s ongoing stupidity.

So we like Conan. But I want to emphasize a few crucial points — especially since they’re mostly getting glossed over in the media coverage. First, sure, we like Conan. But we like the IDEA of Conan. As the last Tweet makes clear, most of us don’t watch the show. In fact, I have NEVER seen one of the new episodes of The Tonight Show with Conan was host. The fandom and #TeamConan movement is around what Conan represents — not his actual product. As as Dyer and other star scholars have long emphasized, a star or personality can be tremendously popular….and even still, no one goes to see his movies, buy his products, or watch his show. Conan’s problem isn’t NBC, per se; it’s the fact that only older audiences still watch late night television (because only older audiences still watch late night news) and the younger, commercially viable audiences either get their comedy/current events via The Daily Show, which plays at all hours and is always available via Comedycentral.com or through other online comedy sites. I’m particularly fascinated by the fact that much of the Conan Twitter support has been stirred by a tweet by comedian Jim Gaffigan, a hilarious stand-up comedian with a Twitter following of 150,000. Gaffigan isn’t popular because 150,000 people have seen him live; he’s popular because of his YouTube videos, radio clips (I personally was first introduced to him via Seattle’s 103.7 5:20 Funny). In fact, my own affection for Conan, at least in recent years, centers around his tangental role in 30 Rock. The lesson, it seems, is that people aren’t rooting for Conan’s show, per se, as much as they’re rooting for a style of comedy and a persona — and a youthfulness. And even though Conan evoked the storied past of The Tonight Show in his statement, most of the people Tweeting their support wouldn’t even find Johnny Carson, or his particular brand of humor, funny.

Second, Team Conan has no embodied opposition. It’s not like Twilight, when Team Jacob is clearly up against Team Edward. There is no Team Jay. NBC isn’t deciding between Jay and Conan; it’s already announced that Leno will be back at 11:35. Finke and others think that the statement could be used for leverage, but I think Conan’s gone. His agent are fielding dozens of calls. It’s not that he’s not a formidable competitor for Leno — he certainly is — it’s that there’s just not a contest. They’re catering to very different demographics, with very different styles. As more than one commentator has pointed out, this isn’t 1992, when Leno and Letterman were constructed as rivals. Conan’s opposition is NBC, which has already demonstrated that it no longer even understands the rules by which these games, let alone fights, are played.

And third, we need to step back and consider why people would find it important enough to digitially voice their support for a persona. To reinvoke the Twilight analogy, when you announce yourself as Team Jacob, you’re announcing something specific about what you find attractive in a male and in a relationship. You’re also rejecting the hegemony of Team Edward. To be Team Edward is to be different. Does the same hold for Team Conan? Just because he has red hair and a quirky sense of humor, does that mean that my support for him actually says a single thing about me? If anything, supporting Conan, especially considering the outpouring of support, simply reinforces how easy, and ultimately non-controversial, it is to like the guy. He issued a statement that signified as gutsy, brave, and dignified — all traits that, like his plaintiff Irish face, are easy to get behind. Now, if he would’ve said something rude, or made fun of Leno, or said that Leno’s audience would be dead in twenty years, or that NBC was completely screwed, or dared to blasphemy the past, present, or future of late night comedy — that would be risky. And if fans were voicing their support for that — well, that would be something (even more significant) to write about. As is, I like him. I could motivate my fingers to type in the #TeamConan hashtag. But I’ll still fall asleep before he comes on tonight, as I generally do, and there’s very little to be done about that particular situation.