Hillary Clinton is gearing up to become the first major female presidential nominee. And on the other end of the nation-rocking spectrum, a surge of female comedic talent continues to sweep the entertainment industry with successful TV shows such as “Broad City” and “Inside Amy Schumer” and movies such as “Pitch Perfect,” “Bridesmaids” and anything with Melissa McCarthy.
But while these cracks in the glass ceiling keep spreading, one of America’s most popular vestiges of “Mad Men”-esque chauvinism clings tightly to its old ways. As we await Stephen Colbert’s “Who Am Me?” reveal on CBS’ “The Late Show,” and Trevor Noah ramps up the promos for his “Daily Show” takeover, the country’s favorite late-night shows remain unshakeably dominated by men.
Since the 1950s, the late-night talk show host has been a beloved American institution — from Jack Parr to Johnny Carson to David Letterman and Jay Leno. But excluding a short stint from Joan Rivers in the 1980s, network late night has never had a female host. There may be a few examples of female comedians with cable shows, but men host all of the big-ticket, mainstream franchises.
It is wonderfully hilarious, in fact, that actress Lauren Graham has landed a development deal from NBC for a new sitcom about a female late-night host, “Kate on Later.” She’ll join the vicarious-living ranks of fictionally powerful women Katniss Everdeen, Xena the Warrior Princess and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It’s like saying: “You’re just as likely to fight in ‘The Hunger Games’ as you are to host a late-night talk show.”
Why does all of this matter? Gender inequality anywhere is a problem, and late night is particularly influential in American culture.
Late-night hosts have the power to test the mighty and mock the notorious. As they schmooze with celebrities and heads of state, these hosts can hold the most cultural capital available to humans who aren’t Beyoncé.
They combine on-screen prominence with behind-the-scenes creative, strategic and logistical control. Jimmy Kimmel, Jimmy Fallon, Seth Meyers — these guys have complete power over every element on and off camera. That is why — while I hope to be laughing my pants off with a female late-night host sometime soon — I’m afraid I’ll be wetting my adult diaper before it happens.
Consider: Late-night hosts must embody two core qualities simultaneously — humor and leadership. The host must charm the audience and make them laugh while owning the stage and taking charge of the show.
This poses a problem for women.
While Hillary Clinton’s popularity arguably shows that Americans are now more ready to embrace female leaders, political commentary quickly turns ugly if women leaders show too much of that “feminine” vulnerability or look anything but in control. (Recall, for example, with Maureen Dowd accusing Clinton of, among other things, “playing the female victim” when she wept on the campaign trail in 2008.)
And we may increasingly embrace female comedians but can’t seem to stop praising them more for being “feisty” or “charming” or “adorable” than for their contributions as leaders in the industry.
This is less of an issue for daytime television, where female hosts such as Ellen DeGeneres, Rosie O’Donnell and the mighty Oprah have succeeded before a majority female viewership. Late night is different: Audience gender is more evenly split. And risk-averse networks are wary of disrupting the sensitive psyches of their prized male viewers — ones for whom the idea of a woman who embodies both leadership and comedy on a highly public and influential platform is a source of cognitive dissonance.
How can a woman present herself as a funny leader or commanding comedian when our expectations of female leaders in general don’t allow for vulnerability (where comedians find their golden content), and our expectations for female comedians don’t allow us to imagine them taking charge?
We’ve created a paradox that’s a problem.
This goes beyond a double standard. It forces women into an impossible trap where they must flatten themselves. And it’s perpetuated by everyone who has the power to break the status quo.
But this can change.
Decision-makers behind late-night television need to wake up and smell the millennium and make a concerted effort to hire a female late-night host.
Audiences need to think about and demand the kind of people they want to see at the forefront of cultural influence. It’s just plain better entertainment when diverse and multidimensional people are represented. They, after all, represent Americans who watch TV.
And finally — if the space just isn’t there yet — then game-changing female talent (looking at you Amy Schumer, Jessica Williams, et al.) must create it. The doors are not completely closed — Comedy Central offered Jon Stewart’s role on “The Daily Show” to both Schumer and Amy Poehler (good move, CC), but both reportedly turned it down. And that’s a shame.
The girls and women who prefer laughs to catcalls, class clown to prom queen, and who face a world of misogyny with both strength and humor need to see their role models succeed. So if you’re in a position to make it happen — whether you’re a media exec, a viewer or a candidate yourself — grow some ovaries and do it.
