Well, my cheeky little monkeys, I took the plunge - literally, with a low neckline and trusty Wonderbra - and attended a taping at CBS Studios of The Late, Late Show with Craig Ferguson. Yes, I've heard the rumors that he's dating Sharon Stone but, honestly, I think it's more of a fetal attraction because they both have kids. While she was once a card-carrying member of Mensa, I think she's now too high maintenance for him. She is, after all, an actress - and an inside source tells me she's a bit neurotic and controlling. I don't care how great she is in bed, Craig has more self-respect than that. Or at least I hope he does. However, after going to the taping and seeing how little he even interacts with the audience, I could be all wrong about him. Ah well, I'll give him a chance to redeem himself if he ever sees this blog and wants to talk about it.Before they corralled us up two flights in an industrial stairwell to the frigid studio, the Warmup Guy singled me out with the token free mug just for supposedly checking him out. Now while I was flattered by how thoughtful the gesture was... I mean, who doesn't need another coffee mug? I wanted to trade it in for what was behind door number three: a one-on-one with The Craigster. Ok, I don't know if anyone has called him The Craigster, but it just slipped out as I was typing.
Anyway, I scored a seat that was front row center, sure that I'd catch The Craigster's eye at least a few times, you know, gesture to him with a sideways hang ten symbol next to my ear indicating that he should call me. So Warmup Guy did his warmup bit, but I was already hot... or as The Craigster admitted to his first guest, in heat. But I'll get to that in a moment.
As I was saying, Warmup Guy (what was his name?) made a point of telling us that the success of the show depended on us... that the viewers at home are the real audience, and that we, in the studio, were there to elevate the experience with boisterous laughter (when appropriate). We were encouraged to show The Craigster that we "had his back." Well, honey, I had his front, if you know what I mean.
They got us up on our feet for his grand entrance. I didn't need any prompting to be enthusiastic - I was almost up close and not quite personal with him as he found his monologue mark. He looked fantastic in an olive green suit with black shirt. His perfect features are just as perfect in person. Those eyes are blue and twinkle with mischief. Ok, so I was getting damp. I admit it. He launched into the monologue and it was funnier than usual. Better material, better writing, better delivery, better energy. There was a lot of physical humor interspersed with the jokes. His timing is improving every week, and he knows how to take that "beat," much the way Carson did. In fact, I've always felt that CF is the only late night talk show host who can fill Carson's shoes.
The audience was particularly rowdy, largely composed of Texans celebrating their Rose Bowl victory against USC the night before. Craig called USC the "University of Spoiled Children." Seems I've heard that joke, but he pulled it off. Ok, I'm going on a limb here with this next confession and it will probably piss off a few people, but as Michael Caine would say, then piss off. The Michael Caine, Sean Connery and Prince Charles segments are a bit weary and even the sound effect gimmick has worn out his welcome. I understand that The Craigster is developing skits to become his trademark, but he and the writers need to try something else.
So back to where I was sitting. Wouldn't you know that during the monologue, I was directly behind the monologue camera and was lucky if I could even see Craig's right ear? It turns out they placed an oversized disabled man next to me. The man really needed two seats for himself. I was squashed to the right, teetering with one cheek on my chair and body twisted for the whole taping. I should see a chiropractor, get a massage, and send the show the bill. Or better yet have The Craigster give me the massage himself.
Sigh. There was no chance to even make eye contact with my future ex-husband during the opening monologue. Whenever they transitioned, i.e. stopped taping to simulate commercial breaks and prepare Craig for the next segment, giving him a chance to review questions, they put on blaring disco or Michael Jackson music (what was that about?) to keep the audience's energy up. Warmup Guy... WTF was his name?... had us clap with the beat. I'm sure it was to prevent us from hearing all the technical talk.
Even though it is clear I am a shrinking violet and afraid to express my opinion, I will now venture even further on that aforementioned proverbial limb to say this - I was tremendously disappointed in The Craigster. He kept himself insulated from the audience and did not shake hands or anything. Not a hug or kiss. No, nary any tongue. Years ago I attended a taping of the sitcom, "The Golden Girls." In between scenes, Betty White came out and joked with the audience, making herself available for questions, hugs, kisses, and probably even a little tongue (knowing Betty White). I've gone to other shows and had similar experiences where the cast came out, shook hands, signed autographs, etc. When Janis Ian performed at The Knitting Factory a few years back, she had a receiving table where she shook hands, signed CDs, and posed for photos. Considering the fact that Janis is a music icon with Grammy awards, hit songs, and a long career, she could afford to have an attitude but didn't. The Craigster, on the other hand, came off like a diva by being so standoffish.
Interestingly, there were two gals from Texas sitting to my right, a mother and daughter, both very attractive and seemingly good friends for being a mother and daughter. When I asked the mom if she likes Craig's show, she admitted she had never watched it, and more importantly, didn't even know who he was! I then inquired why they were at the taping. The mom said it was the only thing they could get tickets for, and they wanted to see a TV show taped. I, of course, still enamored with Craig (since it was pre-taping), raved about how great he is - and assured her she'd enjoy the show. Afterwards, she shared my surprise that Craig hadn't interacted with the audience during the breaks or at the end.
You know, the more I think about it, it was hypocritical for Warmup Guy to emphasize how our presence was integral to the success of the show... and then The Craigster didn't show us a similar courtesy. The studio audience only seats 100 bodies. Shaking hands with 100 people wouldn't take him more than 20 minutes. And that's assuming all 100 would want to meet him. What if a fan had flowers or a gift or panties or a teddy bear or wore a teddy or...
Okay, monologue done. The first guest comes out, and it's the legendary Don Rickles - the King of Insults. Rickles is now an old man who seems to find it necessary to announce his Jewishness in as many jokes as possible. Hey, I come from a Jewish background. I can rag on that. His schtick hasn't changed much over the years, but he did have a few moments of spontaneous brilliance. Of course, I was sitting behind the stage manager's control board, and could see the bullet-point list of jokes that Rickles was supposed to hit - thus shattering the illusion of the supposed improvisational element to the show.
There was one moment when Rickles said something clever and off-the-cuff during a break. The Craigster was caught by surprise and laughed. As he glanced at the audience almost self-consciously, it seemed he and I made fleeting eye contact as I burst into laughter as well. I think that he and I were the only ones tuned into Rickles' aside. Most of the audience (being Texans) probably didn't get the humor.
Unlike Conan, Leno and Letterman, who are compelled to show how clever they are, and spend more time interrupting the guest, Craig actually listens. What a concept. In fact, he has this way of lowering his head and bringing it slightly forward, and then fixing an intent gaze on the guest, truly interested in what they have to say. He appears to be more genuine than the others. I also find that he spends more time talking with the guests about who they are, rather than having them hawk their latest movie or book.
After Rickles, the next guest was pseudo-actress Ivana Milicevic. She lost points when she commented that The Craigster's English was very good, considering he hadn't been in our country for his entire life. What language did she think they spoke in Scotland? Sheesh. Actresses. (She was almost as dim as Daryl Hannah, and practically as boring as Mimi Rogers, two other guests in past weeks. Sometimes I think The Craigster wants eye candy and isn't interested in substance. Of course, Don Rickles puts that theory to bed, eh?)
The musical guest was Aimee Mann. I knew the name but had never heard the music. I usually switch channels when the musical guest comes on, because it's rarely anyone with substantive talent. They're usually alternative bands whose lead singers have a minimal grasp of pitch, lyric writing and compelling melodies. With Aimee Mann - this time was no different. Unfortunately, held captive in the studio audience, I couldn't very well change the channel. But at least I could tune out as she droned on with her emotion-less vocal range, barely an octave. The song was something Suzanne Vega could've written with one hand. But sweet, frail, anorexic stringy-haired makeover candidate Aimee did get through in one take - thank goodness - I don't know if I could've tolerated a second run through of the song.
Aimee was done, and so was I. They escorted her and the band out of the studio. Craig gave us a cursory wave and disappeared into the wings, somewhere in the direction of the off-camera cue cards, most likely. You know what I'm talking about... those cue cards that he doesn't really use because everything is extemporaneous? The audience handlers made sure that the group was ushered out en masse like cattle, to prevent an eager calf from straying down the wrong hall and possibly finding the green room. It was all a very calculated, structured taping. Very little warmth or friendliness. Not much appreciation for our contributions to making the show a hit, according to Warmup Guy.
That evening I watched the episode, because we had been promised that we'd be "on camera" several times. I barely caught a glimpse of myself behind the obese disabled man and the multi-camera setup. Not that I was there for onscreen time, but what the heck, we all want our 15 minutes, and I'd say I got 15 milliseconds. Would I attend another taping? Only as a featured guest or as the musical act.
How do I feel about The Craigster now? Well certainly the spell has been broken, and although I still get a wee bit wet when I hear his breezy brogue, I'd rather watch "Just Shoot Me" reruns at 12:30am. Of course, listening to Wendie Malick's sultry voice makes me want to shop at Marshall's the next day. So maybe I should still watch The Craigster once in a while. It will keep me from spending too much money at Marshall's. Yeah, despite everything, I still wouldn't mind having Craig Ferguson in my space.
