Why we won’t miss David Letterman. (Hint: he ain’t that funny)

THE Late Show has descended into an orgy of self-congratulation with David Letterman stepping down. Here’s why his departure should not be lamented.

OPINION

FIVE years ago, a friend and I were in Times Square, New York City, contemplating which tourist cliche to tackle first. See a Broadway show? Try one of those giant pretzels? Scale the Empire State?

While talking and giggling, we were approached by a guy with a clipboard who asked whether we’d be interested in being an audience member for the Late Show with David Letterman.

Score! We thought: chance to have a good laugh, see some celebs up close, and maybe get our mugs on TV. (Hi mum!) We got none of the above.

If you’ve ever sat watching Letterman wondering why the crowd is in hysterics over every weak gag he stumbles over, here’s why.

We returned to the Ed Sullivan Theater on Broadway and 53rd St that afternoon and were carrying on and making each other laugh while we waited in line. Another guy with a clipboard came up and asked us if we wanted to sit up the front for the taping. We couldn’t believe our luck.

It became quickly apparent that the producers stack the front of the theatre with the punters who appear to be the most laugh-prone.

And then, they go a step further.

“You’re really lucky to have been selected to sit this close to the action,” the select audience members were told. “So, when Dave comes out, make sure you clap and cheer and laugh at everything.”

Yes, that’s right. We were expressly told that our position in the front rows was incumbent on us laughing at everything Letterman said.

Dave to producer: “I just finished saying something. Why aren’t they laughing?” Picture: AP Photo/CBS

When the host finally appeared, it became painfully clear why the audience needed this inducement.

The guy just ain’t that funny.

He fumbled his way through the opening monologue with a palpable lack of enthusiasm, and it was clear that the taping was the first time he had bothered to read the jokes prepared for him on the cue cards.

He often seemed genuinely surprised by the punchlines, most of which he failed to land.

The celebrity guest was one Demi Moore, and Letterman could barely hide his contempt for her as she diligently tried to spruik her latest movie.

His interview offered no insights into Moore’s movie or her life, and he related to her more in a way that a creepy uncle might than a good talk show host should.

If it weren’t for the stern edict that we needed to laugh at Letterman’s every utterance, I don’t think the whole hour of television would have raised a titter from anyone.

Dave to Bieber: “But seriously. I despise you and everything you represent.” Picture: John Paul Filo/CBS

Watching the show on screen in years since, the experience is just as pointless.

Letterman’s lack of interest in the jokes, guests and bands that populate his program is barely veiled.

He hardly ever looks down the barrel at the viewer at home. Most of the time he spends looking straight down at his cards or labouring over jokes with bandleader Paul Shaffer, who really should just stick to the music.

Dave to latest buzz band: “I don’t understand what just happened and I don’t care to.”

The Late Show has descended into an orgy of self-congratulation as David Letterman steps down after 33 years in late night TV. Tearful tributes, celebrity backslapping, references to him being “the unofficial mayor of New York”. A living eulogy to rival Oprah’s send-off.

Steve Martin, Jerry Seinfeld and Foo Fighters were among the big names appearing in the final episode.

So, while the US will be lamenting his departure and elevating him to living legend status, I’ll be joining the thousands of Aussies no doubt scratching their heads about why his career has endured.

Good night, good luck and good riddance, Dave.

Is Letterman a legend or an old crank? Join the conversation on Twitter @newscomauHQ or leave a comment below.