From the very beginning of the show, we get the distinct impression that the man who has been breezing in our screens for more than 33 years has no intention of replicating his past as the host who has brought irony, absurdity and a talk show format insurgency that firmly established him as one of the genre's all-time greats.
My Next Guest Needs No Introduction, is a venture against the ever-increasing trend of tv shows' fragmentation into very short, catchy clips culminating into semi-predictable punchlines. Instead, Letterman's new show defies the 30 second attention span that permeates much of the current tv viewing habits, and dives into an entirely different proposition that revels in maintaining tempo, wit and substance.
Following a witty cold opening that bridges the recent past to the present, we are introduced to the new Dave in more ways than one: The score that introduces Letterman to the live audience is a stripped-down R&B piece that includes the familiar Shaffer keyboard trademark sound, the 60s and 70s popular hammond organ, and a distinct bassline. This simple and yet emotive score that is an homage to the southern sound of Muscle Shoals is a fitting addition to the bare set that includes a couple of chairs, a dark decor that alludes to the Charlie Rose show set, and an enthusiastic audience. This is no Late Show where the fanfare and pizazz were the variety show's prerequisites. This is a much more intimate and contemplative affair. One that David Letterman is prepared to explore with an uncharacteristically open heart, self-introspection, and true curiosity.
Maybe Letterman's new tv persona is a surprise to many who expected his acerbic wit and gnawing irony to set the tone for this encounter. Yet, what emerges in this rather intimate and truthful exchange, is a side of both men that many may have precognized, but only sporadically witnessed. We may be all aware of Barack Obama's verbal eloquence, his stylish presence and charismatic communication, but we are vaguely aware of his self-proclaimed mid-western sensibilities, his weaknesses, the affection and dedication to his family, as well as his political philosophy as laid out in layman's terms, avoiding direct criticism of the current administration, but rather by inference. Letterman,on the other hand, is still the self-deprecating, witty man whose new look suggests a shift, the nature of which is in the eye of the beholder to determine. Whether his look is saintly or vagrant depending on one's liking to the man, what is certain is that he lets go off his guard, sharing personal stories. Expressing openly and without twists his admiration of both John Lewis the activist that paved the way for African Americans, and Barack Obama the President, as well as his personal regrets, and the realisations that came late in his life that bring him on the verge of tears, he provides a very emotional culmination to the conversation.
One of the major assets of this first show is the structural tempo that keeps the audience attentive and involved from beginning to end. Though one gets the feeling that this hour-long discourse is not only informal but random, nothing could be father from the truth. A more perspicacious look into the fabric of the show reveals a very deliberate, circumspect approach that provides both a plethora of information and constant changes of topic and rhythm so that the audience stays attuned to what transpires between the two men. Consequently, there is constant transition from the personal, to the political, from the verbal to the visual, from the serious to the humorous. So, by 'curtain down', we feel lighter, informed, touched, educated, curious but, most of all, involved.
Last but not least, there is a pervasive sense of nostalgia that the whole show is wrapping itself around. From the use of the retro hammond organ, to the return of the long interview format, Letterman tries once more not so much to re-invent the genre, but to suggest a path forward by revisiting the past. At an age where meaning is lost in the speed with which information is relayed, the superficiality with which we conduct our exchanges, a look back is more pertinent than ever. Dick Cavett's intelligent conversational rather than interviewing style, Charlie Rose's thoughtful and respectful approach with no hidden agendas, but mostly the man who was one of David Letterman's predecessors, Jack Paar whose witty exchanges, emotional vulnerability and strong political convictions have found lately through Letterman a surprise new friend and 'accomplice'.
It is no surprise that the final shot that has Obama and Letterman walking with the back to the camera into the 'sunset', has a strong emotional impact. One has made history by defying the odds and changing its course, and the other by being the bearer of the wisdom that several decades of innovation in entertainment and discourse have bestowed upon him.
My Next Guest Needs No Introduction, is a venture against the ever-increasing trend of tv shows' fragmentation into very short, catchy clips culminating into semi-predictable punchlines. Instead, Letterman's new show defies the 30 second attention span that permeates much of the current tv viewing habits, and dives into an entirely different proposition that revels in maintaining tempo, wit and substance.
Following a witty cold opening that bridges the recent past to the present, we are introduced to the new Dave in more ways than one: The score that introduces Letterman to the live audience is a stripped-down R&B piece that includes the familiar Shaffer keyboard trademark sound, the 60s and 70s popular hammond organ, and a distinct bassline. This simple and yet emotive score that is an homage to the southern sound of Muscle Shoals is a fitting addition to the bare set that includes a couple of chairs, a dark decor that alludes to the Charlie Rose show set, and an enthusiastic audience. This is no Late Show where the fanfare and pizazz were the variety show's prerequisites. This is a much more intimate and contemplative affair. One that David Letterman is prepared to explore with an uncharacteristically open heart, self-introspection, and true curiosity.
Maybe Letterman's new tv persona is a surprise to many who expected his acerbic wit and gnawing irony to set the tone for this encounter. Yet, what emerges in this rather intimate and truthful exchange, is a side of both men that many may have precognized, but only sporadically witnessed. We may be all aware of Barack Obama's verbal eloquence, his stylish presence and charismatic communication, but we are vaguely aware of his self-proclaimed mid-western sensibilities, his weaknesses, the affection and dedication to his family, as well as his political philosophy as laid out in layman's terms, avoiding direct criticism of the current administration, but rather by inference. Letterman,on the other hand, is still the self-deprecating, witty man whose new look suggests a shift, the nature of which is in the eye of the beholder to determine. Whether his look is saintly or vagrant depending on one's liking to the man, what is certain is that he lets go off his guard, sharing personal stories. Expressing openly and without twists his admiration of both John Lewis the activist that paved the way for African Americans, and Barack Obama the President, as well as his personal regrets, and the realisations that came late in his life that bring him on the verge of tears, he provides a very emotional culmination to the conversation.
One of the major assets of this first show is the structural tempo that keeps the audience attentive and involved from beginning to end. Though one gets the feeling that this hour-long discourse is not only informal but random, nothing could be father from the truth. A more perspicacious look into the fabric of the show reveals a very deliberate, circumspect approach that provides both a plethora of information and constant changes of topic and rhythm so that the audience stays attuned to what transpires between the two men. Consequently, there is constant transition from the personal, to the political, from the verbal to the visual, from the serious to the humorous. So, by 'curtain down', we feel lighter, informed, touched, educated, curious but, most of all, involved.
Last but not least, there is a pervasive sense of nostalgia that the whole show is wrapping itself around. From the use of the retro hammond organ, to the return of the long interview format, Letterman tries once more not so much to re-invent the genre, but to suggest a path forward by revisiting the past. At an age where meaning is lost in the speed with which information is relayed, the superficiality with which we conduct our exchanges, a look back is more pertinent than ever. Dick Cavett's intelligent conversational rather than interviewing style, Charlie Rose's thoughtful and respectful approach with no hidden agendas, but mostly the man who was one of David Letterman's predecessors, Jack Paar whose witty exchanges, emotional vulnerability and strong political convictions have found lately through Letterman a surprise new friend and 'accomplice'.
It is no surprise that the final shot that has Obama and Letterman walking with the back to the camera into the 'sunset', has a strong emotional impact. One has made history by defying the odds and changing its course, and the other by being the bearer of the wisdom that several decades of innovation in entertainment and discourse have bestowed upon him.
