Spike: That’s so sweet.
Judd: That’s how life works in our house.
STEPHEN COLBERT (2014)
Sometimes I would watch The Colbert Report and I’d be literally stunned at how funny it was. The writing and performing on that show were at a level never before seen on television.
Stephen Colbert is so funny, and such a nimble and versatile comedian, but he also seems to be a spiritual man who has found a measure of true happiness. That’s something I don’t understand at all, so I was thrilled to get the chance to ask him how this happy-funny combination is possible, with the small hope that he would say something that would change my life forever. I think he did say it at one point, and I intend to have it printed on a plaque that I can put on my refrigerator. I can’t remember what it was, though, because I was too pissed off to hear it.
Judd Apatow: It’s hard to believe you’re in the final few weeks of your show. Is it tough to focus on making this last run great when you have this giant new thing looming?
Stephen Colbert: It is. When you do a hundred and sixty shows a year, it’s really hard to produce that much material. As I used to say, “All I want to do is eighty hours of comedy this year that I wouldn’t mind my friends seeing.”
Judd: (Laughs) Yeah.
Stephen: This year I’m just working on an eighty-hour comedy project. That’s it. Listen, before I knew how horrible it would be, the strike in 2007 sounded like a great idea.
Judd: Are you burned out?
Stephen: I’m not, really. I’m not burned out—people may be reading this book centuries from now, so I’ll have to remind them that I play a character on my show, and he’s modeled on punditry, and I no longer respect my model. That’s my problem. Regardless of whether I was moving on to something else after this show, I don’t know if I could have done it much longer, because you have to be invested in your model. And I really am not. I can’t watch that stuff anymore. That’s what burns me out, not the grind. I like the grind. I like showing up every day with people that I respect, and doing the show with them. I always say that by the time I go out onstage, we’ve already done the show for each other, all day long. It’s my responsibility, and privilege, to then translate that to an audience. You know? I’m the bottom of the funnel.
Judd: Yeah.
Stephen: And that’s part of the skill, to be able to coalesce and synthesize everything into a single mouth. So, I don’t mind that. That doesn’t burn me out. But now that I only have ten shows left, everything is harder. It’s harder to only have ten left, because the way you prepare for a hundred and sixty shows is to build this enormous machine that is constantly firing information or jokes or script ideas that you’re collecting as you go along: That one will work, that one will work, that one will work, throw that one away. And then you sweep them into a pile and say, “What does that mean? What are those about?” And then you go, “Oh, that’s what that one’s about. Put this one together with that, and then that’s what you want to say.” But now, we only have ten shows left. We can’t just fire things randomly out of the cannon. Not that it was ever random. What I mean is, our level of output is no longer useful.
Judd: And sometimes the speed of things and the sense of it never ending is what keeps you from feeling nervous.
Stephen: Exactly. And when you have a certain number of shows left, you get afraid that, right at the end of the race, you’re going to drop the baby.
Judd: It seems like people in this position respond differently. Like, when Conan O’Brien was getting canceled at The Tonight Show, he started turning out his best shows.
Stephen: He seemed very free.
Judd: The rage fired him up.
Stephen: Yeah.
Judd: It’s like you’re in a David Chase situation right now. You’re ending The Sopranos.
Stephen: (Laughs) I wish.
Judd: Looking back, what was the main input for the show: the comedy or the politics?
Stephen: I once had a teacher who would say, “Write what you know, and write what you are interested in.” I also had an improv teacher who said the first thing you are emotional about onstage is what the scene is about. So, regardless of what it is, you have to follow that rabbit hole. That’s where you’ll make your discoveries. I am an actor who became a comedian, and I wanted to do something with the skill set that I established; someone who was an actor who became an improviser, and through improvisation, learned dramatic structure and applied that to comedic scenes and sketch comedy—and then, for some weird reason, got hired by The Daily Show. It was kind of a mistake, and I went, Oh, but I also really care about the news. I enjoy it. I have eclectic interests, so maybe I could apply this little tool set that I’ve built up over the years to a lot of different subjects that might be covered in the news, and I also look like—wait, I look like a white guy.
Judd: (Laughs)
Stephen: I look like the Man. I look like a very hegemonic figure. So, I said, Okay, I am an anchor. I look like an anchor, anyway, and so I did that for Jon for years. Acting was a tool toward doing comedy. I was a straight actor for years, actually, until I realized how much more I loved being in comedy, writing comedy, and being with comedians. The joy I felt with other comedians, that was the healthiest thing. I thought, Oh my God, look how much we’re laughing and how agonizing it was for that to have gone that poorly. The healthy choice is to do this for the rest of my life.
Judd: I’ve realized that later in life, too. For a long time, I thought getting into comedy was an unhealthy choice. Only recently did I begin to think it’s a healthy choice.
Stephen: Yeah, exactly. To me, it was. It’s almost like committing myself to flossing and exercise. I don’t really want to do anything other than comedy, and so did we talk about things that mattered to me? Did we occasionally invest our scripts with a satirical meaning that was overt? Yes. But, it’s always comedy first. Because that’s what I love. That’s what keeps me going and alive.
Judd: When did that kick in for you, comedy as a point of view, as a way of dealing with life?
Stephen: I don’t know if there was necessarily a moment. I remember when I was younger—I knew a guy, a great improviser, and I’m not going to name his name because of the advice he’s about to give in this little story. He said, “You have to see the world differently than the audience does.” Like, you have to put yourself in a state where you see the world differently than the audience does, because then you will surprise them with your choices. Comedy is all about surprising the audience with your choices. It might be something that is familiar to them, but they’re surprised you’re willing to say it. He said, “If you have to do heroin, do heroin. I would recommend you do heroin.”