Colin Sheridan: Stephen Colbert's axing brings to mind the lack of political satire here

The Late Show with Stephen Colbert saw its host deliver nightly shot glasses of satire and political punch‑drunk comedy. Our own Late Late Show is more cosy than cutting

Stephen Colbert during a taping of "The Late Show with Stephen Colbert" in 2023. The loss of Colbert’s show leaves a hole — one that’s political, comic, and uncomfortably silent. File photo: Scott Kowalchyk/CBS via AP

To most of us this side of the pond, Stephen Colbert exists as a series of funny clips on social media.

Unless you live, or travel regularly to America, it's unlikely his show — The Late Show with Stephen Colbert — is a regular part of your televisual lexicon, especially as it airs at 11.35pm. Still, for all the obscurity of his existence relative to us, one could argue he's never been as popular. 

President Donald Trump is the gift that never stops giving to monologue makers, and if there's one thing Colbert can deliver with panache, it's a damn good monologue.

Perhaps, too good, because his nightly shrine to shot glasses of satire and political punch‑drunk comedy has been abolished. CBS, citing financial woes, has slated the final curtain for May 2026, closing not just Colbert’s show but the entire Late Show franchise.

It’s the end of an era. Since Letterman passed the torch in 2015, Colbert has used that stage as part-sarcastic political commentator, part-sky-high comic helmsman. In the last season alone, he reigned as ratings champ among late‑night talkies, improbably packing more audience than over‑caffeinated hours warrant.

So yes, it may have been a “purely financial” choice, as CBS insists. But that phrase feels about as believable now as our own government saying they intend to pass the Occupied Territories Bill. 

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It comes just after Colbert’s attack on a Trump‑Paramount $16 million “bribe” just days before the axe fell — timing that smells less like coincidence and more like political orchestration.

Fellow comic gladiators rushed to his defence. Jon Stewart roared on The Daily Show: “This is not the moment to give in … you are fucking wrong,” decrying corporate fear over political reprisals. John Oliver lamented the loss of a fertile training ground for future late‑night scribes, calling it “incredibly sad".

What will it mean for our own Late Late Show? For decades, it’s been a cross‑population of small‑town sentiment, big‑city celebrity sycophancy, and hushed confessions over talk of tragedies, triumphs, and teddy bears. And every so often it even platforms a proper comedian, albeit one who knows better than to mock a sitting TD.

And it's in that vacuum we could all do with a little Colbert. There is little or no political satire on Irish television these days - and doing mediocre impressions does not count. 

Host Patrick Kielty is a fireman reduced to rescuing kittens from a tree, and it's perhaps because of that that the Late Late Show is weathering whatever storm downed Colbert in the US. Its appeal may lean more cosy than cutting, but the crowds still tune in.

Still, you can't help wondering: does Colbert's demise signal the death of the late-night format, or merely the flick‑off of an old lamp?

Patrick Kielty's Late Late Show stands as a testament to bland adaptability. File picture: Andres Poveda

Streaming platforms, TikTok, 24‑hour news cycles — they’re all wedding their viewers to the immediacy of media, stealing them away from the half‑hour a night in front of the TV. 

CBS isn’t the only network hitting budgetary bottom, though it’s certainly first to pitch out the stage talent. Even NBC’s stalwarts are trimming staff and band members. Attitudes and ad revenue are shifting, fast.

But here’s the irony: late-night talk shows are vital national psychotherapies. A place where politicians are cut into satire, pop stars unfurl their latest single, and comedians sharpen their wit against the absurd. 

The loss of Colbert’s show leaves a hole — one that’s political, comic, and uncomfortably silent.

In contrast, The Late Late Show stands as a testament to bland adaptability. It’s become more relatable because of, not despite, its softer profile. 

When guests spill their innermost thoughts or confess shame over missed anniversaries, we nod along, waiting for the former weather girl to tell us how stressful she found Dancing with the Stars. 

There is little or nothing revolutionary about the formula. RTÉ can point to the Tommy Tiernan Show as a totem of brave programming, but, despite the quality differential, you can be damn sure which darling they'd kill first if given a choice.

Which is why the American axing is unlikely to trouble Kielty and co just yet, largely because the Late Late acts like an art project. A loss leader, less about the shining host, more about the cultural heartbeat it captures.

Colbert's exit, counterintuitively, does amplify the dearth of political criticism in Ireland, however. How can a nation of storytellers and general smart arses not produce one hour-long piece of satire per week, especially when there has never been more material with which to humorously work?

I think I know the answer. And it might be much closer to Trump's America than we like to admit — the politicians would never allow it.