We utter, scrawl, tap, and peck a few hundred million words across our lives, but the last ones carry a certain weight. Famous last words, and all that. Last night, Stephen Colbert closed his 11-year run hosting The Late Show, but his actual sign-off came in the form of imagery, metaphor, and song.

Despite his capacity for eloquence, Colbert didn’t go out with a sprawling speech on the frail state of political debate or a spicy takedown of those who teamed up to bring him down. He didn’t even mention their names. Instead, the form of his “last words” proved exactly right for him and his show, capping truly special moments in the run-up to the finale, like his star-studded Colbert Questionert answers and musical performances by Bruce Springsteen and David Byrne (among others).

Less a call for “vigilance” as the “best defense against bullshit” that Jon Stewart offered on his final Daily Show, or Conan O’Brien’s plea to resist cynicism at the end of his brief Tonight Show run, this was more like Conan’s Will Ferrell-assisted rendition of “Free Bird.” Craig Ferguson’s closing Late Late Show episode opener of Dead Man Fall’s “Bang Your Drum” while standing on his desk is another ripe comparison that captured his show’s energy.

Here’s Colbert’s final notes, singing “Jump Up” with Elvis Costello, band leader Louis Cato, and former bandleader Jon Batiste. And then the final final moment, with that group joining Paul McCartney for The Beatles’ “Hello Goodbye” from the Ed Sullivan Theater stage, where McCartney and The Beatles were first introduced to American audiences. As perfect an ending as you could ask for, considering the unjust circumstances of The Late Show’s demise.

For more thoughts on Colbert’s legacy, what we’re losing, and the ever-present war between art, commerce, and thin-skinned fascists, check out my write-up on Pajiba from earlier today.

Final Late Show Review | Pajiba

Wayback Machine #2

The time seems right to re-post my original review of Colbert’s very first Late Show, which went up at UPROXX in 2015. It’s no longer live on the site, so give it a read here. It’s an adequate article!

The Best Is Yet To Come Following The ‘Late Show With Stephen Colbert’ Premiere

The last man to replace David Letterman, Conan O’Brien, came off like a jittery child in his debut. Over time, he became his own kind of late-night hero, but that legacy was far from evident on that first night.

Stephen Colbert wasn’t jittery last night during the long-awaited premiere of The Late Show with Stephen Colbert; he was energetic and confident in the midst of putting out a perfectly enjoyable hour of late-night television, the result of having done this kind of thing for a long time. So, is it time to fit Colbert for a crown and name him as the new King of Late Night? No, it’s entirely too early to make that determination. After all, last night wasn’t a portrait of Colbert as The Late Show host. It wasn’t even the first brush stroke of a massive mural — it was the first bristle touching the wall. But, with that said, there are some things about the premiere that are worth discussing.

Jon Stewart + Stephen Colbert = Friends Forever

The Jon Stewart cameo was perhaps inevitable, but certainly enjoyable. That moment at the end when Stewart’s name came up on the screen as an executive producer, though? That was a bit of a surprise.

It’s also interesting because, years after signing a holding deal with Letterman in the ’90s, and after enduring years of rumors that he would leave The Daily Show to one day replace Letterman, Jon Stewart finally got a piece of The Late Show… or at least the premiere episode.

The Mentalist

James Corden had a little more fun with CBS’ still bizarre decision to put Mentalist reruns on at 11:35 in the absence of fresh Late Show episodes, but Colbert having a little fun at his bosses’ expense is, as he later alluded to, the best tribute to David Letterman he could do. Especially in that the placement of CBS CEO Leslie Moonves in the audience with a big comedic lever looked like the kind of thing an in-his-prime Letterman would have put on the air.

The Opening And The Set

The miniature-laden opener found a way to use the entire city of New York while being at once inventive, offbeat, and classic.

The space in the Ed Sullivan Theater feels slightly more intimate than Letterman’s did, which is saying something because Colbert opened up the Sullivan Theater, exposing the space’s glorious ceiling, which unsurprisingly features several digitally projected images of Colbert’s smiling face.

The set design is blue, metallic, and wood, with ample video screens that figure to be more for function than aesthetic beauty. I miss Letterman’s models of the New York skyline. I’ll get over it so long as the Captain America shield continues to hang proudly on the set.

The Interviews

The Clooney interview started off light, but took a nice turn after Colbert presented him with an “I Don’t Know You” paperweight, cleverly acknowledging the fallacy of most buddy-buddy talk show interviews.

The Jeb(!) Bush interview was, quite possibly, the most anticipated of the two opening night interviews, due to Colbert’s past work as a “narcissistic conservative pundit” on TV, but while it wasn’t overly aggressive, Colbert also didn’t shy away from his real political views (specifically when the topic turned to gun control in a clip that was cut and posted online), and he didn’t let Bush off easy. Would Jimmy Kimmel or Jimmy Fallon ask a candidate if we really can come together? Would they ask Jeb(!) how he differed from his brother, former President George W. Bush, while refusing to settle for jokes about being “younger” and better looking?

“Policy, though…” said Colbert, pushing for an answer.

“You know, he’s the antihero in that movie,” said Colbert, sharp as ever when Bush fell into his stump speech, and said that people in Florida call him Veto Corleone because of his willingness to veto bills.

Unity

When you think of late-night theme shows, they usually revolve around a silly concept, but Colbert wanted more substance from his premiere, clearly.

From the question to Bush about whether he can unite the country, to bookend cameos by Jimmy Fallon that were clearly meant to put to rest any lingering notion that the late-night wars may spark up again, it was clear that unification was on Colbert’s mind. Need further proof? The recitation of the National Anthem at the start of the show, and the rollicking performance of “Everyday People” by bandleader Jon Batiste and the Stay Human house band, as well as Ben Folds, Buddy Guy, Mavis Staples, and plenty of others, should suffice. A noble gesture to be sure.

A Place For Absurdity

While the theme of the show got pushed front and center, Colbert’s typical flare for the absurd got pushed aside a little, but it was still present when he demonstrated that weird product placement spots will live on at The Late Show, thanks to a cursed amulet, a Faustian deal, and an animatronic monkey paw. If you were looking for signs of the old Colbert, this was your high point.

Overall Impression

This didn’t feel like the premiere of a late-night talk show. I mean that in a good way in terms of comfort (specifically with the brief monologue, a perceived possible trouble spot for Colbert, due to his lack of stand-up experience), but in a bad way with regard to the spectacle. Because there wasn’t much of it (save for the closing number), and there wasn’t an “it” moment that you just knew would be viral in the morning.

It’s possible, of course, that Colbert’s highly effective viral video/publicity campaign set expectations too high on that front, but, luckily, Stephen Colbert is just getting started, and the best is surely yet to come.

You Gotta See This

Closing up this all Stephen Colbert edition with an Architectural Digest video tour of his Late Show set. It’s a charming look at the history of that great old building and television. The craft they put into that show was extraordinary and inspiring. There is something to be said for taking the care to do something the right way. Something above expediency.

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Good Night, Stephen Colbert