There’s nothing quite like the world of television – those omnipresent boxes that have become the source of both comfort and frustrations in the homes of viewers across the globe, serving the function of providing both entertainment and an insight into the real world. There are sometimes instances where there is an intersection of the two, particularly in the form of a programme that may have been designed to entertain based on a carefully-plotted structure, but where the real-world context is far more captivating. When Johnny Carson decided to step down as host of The Tonight Show, arguably the most important incarnation of any talk show in the 20th century, it set off a chain reaction when NBC was tasked with finding a replacement. Torn between two individuals, their decision was not easy – do they go with the reliable choice that had been Carson’s backup for years, or the more exciting new voice in contemporary comedy? This is the foundation for The Late Shift, the riveting dark comedy that looks at the years surrounding the transition between Carson ending his show, and the network looking for his successor – and while it may seem like a story that doesn’t carry much weight, it does serve the purpose of shedding a light on the true nature of the world of entertainment. It is hardly surprising that director Betty Thomas chose to end this film with the cliched but relevant adage of “there’s no business like show business”, because there truly isn’t anything like the bizarre delusions of egomaniacal individuals and their incessant need for not only affluence, but outright validation, that gives the viewer a profound sense of schadenfreude, which is captured perfectly in this terrific film.

Inarguably, The Late Shift is pandering to a very small, niche portion of the audience, targetting those who have an interest in real showbusiness scandals, specifically those of us who are fascinated by the retirement of Johnny Carson and the subsequent controversy that occurred when the network had to decide between hiring Letterman or Leno. Emphasis is placed on how diametrically opposed these men are, not only in terms of their comedic style or ability to convincingly host the programme, but also in their varying statures in the industry. It is well-known that Carson considered Letterman to be his natural successor (with the film implying that he had a hand in helping Letterman decide to leave NBC and start his own talk show that would rival the show that he previously wanted to host), while the network had spent years grooming Leno to be Carson’s heir apparent, placing him in the role of permanent guest host, making it very clear that they had enormous aspirations for the relatively obscure young comedian whose docile sense of humour contrasted sharply with the more biting and caustic wit that had made Letterman so popular with viewers, but potentially dangerous in the eyes of network executives, who wanted someone reliable to host their flagship programme, rather than a comedian with a penchant for rocking the boat. The Late Shift dives deep into the process of selecting a host, focusing not only on the two potential candidates themselves, but also on the various agents, executives and other personnel that pulled the strings in creating these shows, making the film just as much about the backstage mechanics as it is about the two comedians battling it out for the most coveted spot on all of primetime television.

Those going into this film and expecting subtle, nuanced performances are going to be quite disappointed, since The Late Shift is about as far away from providing well-crafted performances as it could possibly be. Many of the characters in this film are portrayed as if they were plucked directly from another NBC flagship series, Saturday Night Live ­- and while this may seem like a disparaging remark, it is actually far deeper than this. The events surrounding the controversy, while very interesting, are not all that captivating, since it is essentially just an endless stream of negotiations amongst executives and agents, with the occasional appearance of the hosts themselves, who would give their input and then move along, merely acting as pawns to a much larger group of professionals trained in the art of creating television from behind the scenes. Having performances that essentially border on caricature was a deliberate choice – there is a reason Letterman himself spoke out against how John Michael Higgins played him, with the comedian’s passing resemblance and ability to capture Letterman’s distinct characteristics being almost grotesque, in a way that was intentional and almost a stroke of genius. Higgins and Daniel Roebuck (sporting a prosthetic chin and ridiculous falsetto voice to play Leno) take on the central roles, and are supported by a large supporting cast, including Kathy Bates in a performance so despicable, that it may rival Annie Wilkes as her most villainous character, and the ever-reliable Bob Balaban and Ed Begley Jr., playing rival executives who see the opportunity to turn a small casting controversy in a major controversy that shook the fabric of the entertainment business. I don’t often advocate for caricature as a viable form of acting, but in the case of a film like this, it is not only appropriate, but entirely necessary.

It is almost undeniable that The Late Shift is one of the many showbusiness dramas produced at a time when these kinds of stories were a dime a dozen – the well-constructed but predictable blend of humour and despair, the intricately-woven allusion to real-world events, and the general intention to heighten the drama for the sake of our entertainment are all factors in this film, which essentially means that it is rarely all that original or exciting, hinging squarely on whether the viewer is interested in the story being told, rather than the actual composition of the film, which is about as conventional as something like this can be. It is highly doubtful that any logical viewer will watch this film and genuinely believe these people acted like this – and yet, this is the appeal of the film, with the artistic license offered to the filmmakers in adapting the book that is equally as culpable in mining this controversy for the sake of finding entertainment in what is really just an administrative process that goes hopelessly wrong (before being repurposed as a source of entertainment in itself) being integral to the success of what is really just a conventional story of the true nature of the entertainment industry. It can sometimes be sordid and goes for the low-hanging fruit, but it works splendidly in the context of this film, which approaches the subject matter from a place of trying to offer entertainment from an objective portrayal of these negotiations, when in reality, it is just a ridiculously over-the-top comedy with some interest in the bureaucratic process that goes into these situations, which the filmmakers clearly saw as only marginally fascinating, as evidenced by how little of it is actually maintained in this story.

In an era where streaming and prestige television reigns supreme, it can be difficult to understand why the subject matter of The Late Shift was such a major scandal – while we have seen instances of similar scandals (perhaps too similar, with Leno being at the centre of yet another hosting scandal, this time with the feud occurring between him and his own heir apparent, Conan O’Brien, who followed a similar trajectory to his predecessor), they barely register as major controversies, almost being swept aside by the fact that primetime television, while still desirable, currently holds stature that pales in comparison to how it was in its heyday. As a result, this film can be considered dreadfully dated – it exudes the energy of a rapidly-made 1990s television film, rife with temporal inconsistencies and excessive performances. However, as a historical document, The Late Shift is a fascinating text, an attempt to dramatize an event that may seem inconsequential, but shook up an industry that had always prioritized reliability and consistency above everything else. As time goes on, the crop of viewers who will find this kind of material fascinating continues to dwindle, and it gradually becomes committed to history, representing a bygone era, that of when late-night hosts held the most influence in television, one that is still recent enough for us to remember, but still too distant to be perfectly represented in a film such as this. The Late Shift is an entertaining and incredibly funny film, one that takes many liberties, but in a way that is not only understandable, but actively encouraged, since it may not do all that well in characterizing the people at the heart of the story, but rather in proving every word that Ethel Merman bellows out over the final credits, proving that there is indeed no business like show business, and there possibly never will be another quite like it ever again.