15 Years Later, Conan O’Brien’s Writers and Andy Richter Remember Conan’s Final ‘Tonight Show’

“People of Earth...” 

That was the lighthearted opening to the otherwise serious statement Tonight Show host Conan O’Brien released to the public on Tuesday, January 12, 2010. In it, he had addressed the rumors that had been swirling since the previous Thursday, when the news leaked that Jay Leno’s short-lived, poorly-rated 10 p.m. talk show was being canceled by NBC and that the network was planning to move Leno back to his previous time slot of 11:35 p.m., where he’d hosted The Tonight Show for 17 years, most of them at number one in the ratings. 

As for Conan, he, and The Tonight Show, would move to 12:05 a.m. It was a move that NBC felt was fair since Conan, with just seven months on the job as Tonight Show host, was still struggling to build his new audience. 

But in an era when time slots were still king, Conan worried that moving The Tonight Show would undermine the “greatest franchise in the history of broadcasting,” as he described it. While Conan didn’t expressly say “I quit” in the letter, he did say “I cannot participate in what I honestly believe is (The Tonight Show’s) destruction,” which meant that if NBC was going to proceed with its plan, Conan would leave the show he’d dreamed of hosting ever since he was a kid watching Johnny Carson with his dad. 

Less than two weeks later, on January 22, 2010, The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien aired for the last time. In it, Conan made one more serious statement, when he ended the show with a prepared speech to his fans about not being cynical, concluding with the still-resonant words, “If you work really hard, and you’re kind, amazing things will happen.” 

Leno was then reinstated as host of The Tonight Show in March, and Conan, barred from appearing on television for seven months thanks to his NBC settlement, went on tour before beginning his TBS show in November. The whole saga was chronicled brilliantly in the 2010 book The War for Late Night by Bill Carter.

Being a former intern on Conan’s first show, Late Night, when it was wrapping up in 2008 and 2009, I got to know a number of the show’s writers, nearly all of whom followed Conan out west with The Tonight Show. And so, I felt an almost personal stake in the 2010 tumult. And, with the 15th anniversary of Conan’s Tonight Show farewell taking place around the same time as Conan’s first crack at hosting the Oscars, I felt now was a good time to reach out to Conan’s Tonight Show writers — as well as his announcer/sidekick Andy Richter — to get their thoughts, memories and reflections on what happened when Conan lost The Tonight Show. 

Dan Cronin: I have this memory of a big piece of news hitting while we were all still in New York doing Late Night and that news must have been the announcement of the Leno 10 o’clock show. That was announced in December, two months before Late Night ended and we all moved to California. That announcement was the first sign that something strange was in the water — that maybe things weren’t as clear as we would hope that they’d be. Some of us were like “Maybe this is a good thing?” but a lot of us were soured by that and wondering “What does that mean? Wasn’t Jay supposed to be gone?”

We were able to look beyond it though because we had this humongous task of creating our version of The Tonight Show. I wasn’t thinking about Jay Leno at all for those first six months. Not only were we trying to figure out The Tonight Show, but we were trying to figure out what schools our kids would go to — my kids were going into kindergarten — and “What kind of car do I get?” It was this incredible cultural shift that was filled with excitement and nervousness and a sense of adventure. This was the Conan’s big move west.

On Late Night, there was never any mention of network executives or what they wanted or anything like that, head writer Mike Sweeney protected us from that and he did the same thing on The Tonight Show. So, I didn’t know shit about what was going on with the network. We mostly just tried to be funny. Still, the job felt a bit unknowable. It felt like we had the same job, but that we’d been bought by a large corporation. With that, there was a directive to make things a little bit more presentational — less sweaty. They didn’t want an involved sketch with Conan going into the audience to fight a sea captain or a beekeeper (as Conan would describe it). Some of that stuff did get through, but it was a lot of quick hits. 

The one thing we didn’t change though was the remotes. The remotes on that show were fantastic. I did one with Conan and Andy going to Bang Zoom!, a studio where they do anime. The two of them were improvising voiceovers to anime and it was hilarious. Another great one Conan did was when he went to a focus group in disguise, and he was asking this focus group what they thought about Conan O’Brien. It was a brilliant piece.

I do remember there being an odd feeling to the space we had in Universal City. Our offices on the second floor felt like we could have been working at a real estate company in Albuquerque. It was corporate-feeling. Up on the third floor, there was a little more hustle and bustle and then you walked down to the studio and something about it felt kind of temporary. The hallways had these flimsy walls and I thought the theater was too large and cavernous. It lacked the intimate charm that both Late Night had and the TBS show would have.

There was something not quite right about it, but we just did our jobs and had no idea anything was wrong. And, when we finally did figure out something was wrong, there was no tide turn, it was more like a mushroom cloud suddenly exploded when Leno’s show was canceled, and we were trying to figure out what that explosion meant.

After that, I do remember two big staff-wide meetings. The first one was sort of like, “Here’s the situation. Here’s what the network has proposed to us” — that Leno was going on at 11:30 and Conan would be going on at 12. That meeting was buttoned-up; Conan was in a suit and he’d just left a meeting with the network or something. He was letting everyone know what was going on. Then we had another meeting like that where he read his “People of Earth” speech, and it was clear that Conan had made his decision. With the second meeting, I remember the stark contrast because Conan was in a leather jacket and a hoodie and it looked like he hadn’t slept and that he’d been to battle.

I also remember a moment in between those two meetings where there was a temperature check with all the writers. Not that Conan was going to base his decision on what we said, but they did ask us what we thought. Should Conan take the 12:05 slot, or should we go somewhere else? We were largely empowered and ticked off enough to say, “Let’s move on.” 

During those last two weeks, we did a lot of fun stuff on the show, but underneath, there was this sense of nervousness because we’d all just moved out here and many people had mortgages now. But once the whole Team Coco army showed up outside Conan’s door, chanting his name and holding up posters — that was so heartening. Seeing that was when I realized, “Okay, we’re not done.”

I truly think of the entire period of The Tonight Show as a blip — as this weird little half-season. It was odd, and as we got to the end, it was emotional. I remember one day when it was pouring rain in L.A. and I’m driving in this new, strange city, and I just started weeping. This California dream is dead after seven months? Are you serious? How did this happen? 

Now though, I just view this time as a bridge between Late Night and what I view as my most fun years with Conan, which was the TBS show. So, with this anniversary, I have to say it’s not a big one. It’s an interesting one, but it’s not that important of an anniversary to me, and I think that’s a good thing.

Kevin Dorff: There was a bit of a tone change from Late Night to The Tonight Show. The sketches weren’t as weird. In New York, Conan’s great mantra was “Dumb humor for smart people” — I believe that to be a powerful mantra — but that wasn’t as present on The Tonight Show. Late Night had an amateurish — and I mean that in a good way — “here goes nothing” vibe to it, while The Tonight Show had more of a Joe-Pro, “let’s be the best Tonight Show ever” vibe to it. I was all for that, but there was an identity change between those two shows. I was just adjusting to that when Jay kicked off his show in September in primetime. 

I remember that time because I was going to shoot an episode of Parks and Rec in September. I had done a work session with Amy Poehler, and I was told, “We’ll let you know.” So, I went and told Mike Sweeney about it and I asked if I could have an afternoon or two off. Sweeney was like, “Well, this isn’t a great time to not be around because Jay’s getting going.” Now, Parks and Rec ended up not casting me that time anyway — I did it later, and it was great — but I didn’t expect to hear that at all. I just didn’t see how what Jay was doing would affect what we were doing. 

Still, nothing much changed until we came back in January from the holiday break and suddenly everything was on fire. It was an entirely different ballgame.

With the choice Conan was given, there were two ways he could have gone — leave, or stay with The Tonight Show and let NBC push it to 12:05. Now, my own ethical view on these kinds of things is that loyalty and subordination matter in these sorts of big decisions. Conan had been such an exemplary boss and, when I say exemplary, I cannot stress this enough. He was personally kind to me in ways that I’m still astonished by. So, my attitude was that, regardless of what I was hearing — which was all very distracting and unnerving — if Conan had made the decision to stay, it was my duty to support that decision. And, when he decided he wasn’t going to stay, I also felt that it was my duty to support that.

I would have supported him almost regardless of what he had said. If he had said we were going to invade Normandy tomorrow, I would have probably said “yes” because that’s just how I felt about the person. That’s how I felt about him as a boss, as a host, as a leader, as a comedian.

So, for me, it wasn’t difficult to say, “If we’re going to go somewhere else, I support that because you’ve got to get it the way you want it if you’re going to succeed on stage.” Conan’s ability to have fun onstage isn’t just essential to the show, it’s vital to the show — there’s a distinction between essential and vital, and it’s vital that he be happy. If he’s somewhere he doesn’t want to be or he’s doing something he doesn’t want to do, it would kill the show. So, if leaving was what he saw to be the only viable path for himself, then I never doubted him.

Chris Albers: I had a unique perspective because I’d been there for the Leno/Letterman transfer back when Johnny Carson left. I worked at Letterman from 1988 to 1993, and at the time, we thought Dave was going to get The Tonight Show, but you know what happened there.

That was our first experience with NBC and Leno specifically — where we found out what they were capable of and willing to do. So, I was already suspicious of that when, in 2004, NBC announced that Conan would be getting The Tonight Show in five years. I’d never seen a network announce that they’re going to give somebody a show in five years. It already seemed like it wasn’t a good plan.

I was very suspicious, and Conan was too, I think. He was very open to everybody stating their opinion and, knowing my history, I talked to him about what I thought was going on, but he didn’t need me to tell him that you need to be worried about what Jay Leno might do. Last time, they tried to keep both hosts happy with Letterman and Leno, but then neither host was happy. With this, they tried to do the same thing again. Except, it was worse this time because, at least with Letterman and Leno, it was a clean cut and Letterman could say, “Screw you, I’m going to CBS.” But with Leno and Conan, Leno was there to haunt him.

To me, Leno is the Donald Trump of late night. He served his term, he pretended to go away, but he never really went away. He haunted the new administration, and then he was back for another term. You were always in his shadow.

For that five years leading up to the changeover, what it did, unfairly, was set up Conan to be the villain who was going to take Jay Leno’s show away. So, if you were a Jay Leno fan, you could see the countdown clock. Plus, Jay would do interviews where he’d say, “Well, you know, we’re the number one show, but apparently NBC doesn’t like you being number one.” He’d say that and that makes Conan the asshole who is taking your show. So, Conan was going to inherit an audience that resented him and so much of late night is routine and patterns, and in order for that show to work, you needed the previous host to hand off his audience. Most hosts have done that except the Donald Trump host.

Then, when Conan got The Tonight Show and they put on that show with Leno at 10 p.m., NBC was cutting Conan at the knees. That was my initial feeling, and unfortunately, it played out a lot like that. It was heartbreaking because we all believed in Conan and he was never given the chance to really host The Tonight Show. 

Andy Richter: I don’t feel like I ever spent a lot of time feeling comfortable in my position at The Tonight Show. In my recollection, I felt under threat at all times. 

They moved Jay to 10 p.m., and it didn’t do well. The ratings were really bad, and the biggest problem was the damage it was doing to local NBC news. That half hour is a very lucrative half hour for the affiliates because they get all that ad money — primetime ad money they have to split with the network, but that half hour, every penny goes straight into their pockets. Outside of The Tonight Show, nobody wanted to watch Jay, so their lead-ins took a huge dive and the local news was losing money hand over fist. That’s what got the affiliates screaming and when the affiliates are screaming like that, usually something has to give.

Then, there was a moment where a trade magazine interviewed Leno and they asked him an oblique question about the troubles with the ratings on the 10 p.m. show and with the 11:30 show and they asked him if he thought Conan was going to last. Jay took that as an excuse to say, “Oh, if they asked me to take the 11:30 show back, I would take it.” Then, in an interview I did, somebody asked me about Jay’s interview, and I said, “That wasn’t the classy answer. The classy answer is, ‘There’s already someone doing that show, and they’re doing a good job and they need some time to grow.’” 

The day after my interview came out, I got a call saying that Jay was pissed. Jay somehow had heard about me saying, “That wasn't the classy answer,” and I was told, “Jay wants you to call him.” So I said, “Alright,” and I called this number. Jay picks up, and he immediately starts saying, “You know how they take things out of context.” He starts covering himself, and I said, “Well, it’s pretty in-context to me. I’m sorry if it upset you, but I like my job and I want to keep my job.” That made him sort of chuckle, and I’m sort of thinking, “Hey man, I didn’t agree to lose my job like you did.” It was a weird conversation and I still maintain that he was trying to get us out, but you can’t blame Jay Leno for being Jay Leno.

Now, it’s a fucked-up, weird deal to say, “In five years, we’re going to give you somebody else’s job.” It’s fraught with possible complications, and there was a lot of wishful thinking going on that the transition would be smooth, but it didn’t because Jay Leno is Jay Leno.

I didn’t know The Tonight Show was ending, though, until the very end, not until Conan said he was going to walk away. Having Jay come on at 11:30 and Conan at midnight, Conan very wisely knew that that would be the beginning of a very inelegant end for us. We would have been whittled away until they gave Jay back the whole hour anyway. Conan called it the “death of a thousand cuts.” They would put us on from 12 to 1, and we’d just whither and die. And, they would probably, passive aggressively, have made sure that that happened — and certainly Jay would make sure that that happened.

Once we knew we were leaving, we started doing bits that were like “fuck you” to the network. Those were fun because the show was always at its best when it was about something other than it just being a Wednesday night and we’ve got some guests. Like when we’d go on the road and we’d do shows at the Apollo or Comic Con. That’s when there would be something to sink our teeth into. And, for those two weeks, the show really got to be about something, and it was a fun, buoyant, giddy, dizzying, slightly scary atmosphere. All the while, there were crowds gathering in the rain outside our studio, and Conan became like a folk hero — a martyred cause for television comedy.

Then, when Conan got the next job, and he wanted me to go within him, I wanted to go with him too because I felt like I didn’t want somebody else to get to write the end of that story. I didn’t want my reunion with Conan to be finished by corporate ineptitude. I wanted it to play out longer.

Berkley Johnson: People might be reading this now and thinking, “What’s a time slot?” But, at the time, that was important. The Tonight Show is at 11:35 and Late Night is at 12:35 and Conan felt strongly about that. Conan very wisely thought The Tonight Show should be on during the night, instead of 12:05, which is the next day. He didn’t want to be the person who let it get pushed like that.

On top of that, there was Late Night. The 12:35 spot was also something that meant a lot to him, having had that slot for 16 seasons and it being the show David Letterman started. Plus, Conan didn’t want to screw Jimmy Fallon over by pushing him to 1:05.

There were about two weeks where we realized, “Okay, this is it,” and I remember those two weeks as being some of the most fun, joyous shows we’d ever done. There were some really fun sketches and some great anti-Leno jokes in the monologue that were very rewarding. My favorite one was when Conan said, “I’m trying to stay positive, and remember kids, you can do whatever you want to do in life — unless Jay Leno wants to do it too.”

Then, at the end, Conan’s whole speech about not being cynical was really impressive to me. As a pathologically bitter and cynical person, I took a lot of meaning from that.

After the final show, we had a wrap party on stage, then we went somewhere and I’d left my car at Universal. I was driven to Universal the next morning and then it all sort of hit me that it was over. I don’t think it was what anyone imagined when we came out there.

When I think back on that time now, the thing that still makes me angry is that Leno only stayed on the air for a couple years after that. Once he got that show back, I was like, “You better stay on the air for 20 more years!” But within a couple of years, Fallon took over. It’s like your dad blows up your family to run off with somebody else, and then six months later he’s like, “It didn’t work out.” So, like, what was it all for?

Brian Kiley: Maybe I’m a bit naive, but I was totally blindsided when everything started coming to an end. Conan followed David Letterman with no experience, but the show hung in there for 16 years. So I thought for sure we’d get a chance to grow. Some shows just take time to find their footing — even Jay struggled his first year or two. 

But Michael Gordon and I were sharing an office and we were working one day and Mike Sweeney bursts in and says, “Go to TMZ.” We went there, and it said, “Conan’s out.” That was quite a shock. I have to say though, in hindsight, I think it added years to my life to have The Tonight Show end and go to TBS instead. 

The Tonight Show was so much pressure, particularly when it came to the monologue. There were two camps of Conan writers — there’s the sketch side and the monologue side, and I was on the monologue side. Because The Tonight Show had this history where Johnny had a long monologue and Jay had a long monologue, Conan felt like he was obligated to have a long monologue too, even though that wasn’t his favorite part of the show.

From the time I went into work to the time I went home, I wrote jokes all day without looking up. And the problem when you’re writing 50 or 60 jokes as opposed to 30 jokes is that you don’t have time to craft a joke. Everything is almost a first draft. I had a knot in my stomach the whole time because the hole was never filled. I remember one day, I had the best day I ever had there — I got seven jokes in the monologue, which was a personal record — and I still went home needing to do more jokes. I really felt like I failed every day.

So, I was always just focused on writing the best jokes I could and the ratings were kind of none of my business. If you’re a baseball player, you’re just kind of worrying about your batting average, you’re not worried about how many fans are in the stands. That’s not something you can control. That’s why I was so blindsided when the news hit.

We had a lot of fun those last two weeks, though. We had a lot of fun doing outrageous comedy because, “Fuck it, we’re going off the air.” Like, since the network was mad at Conan, I remember a bit where Conan arrives at work and he parks his car and he’s being shot at and he and Andy return fire.

For those two weeks, wherever you went, that’s all people were talking about. You’d be in line at a coffee shop and two people in front of you would be talking about it. I’d go to one of my kids’ games and two parents who didn’t even know me would be talking about it. Also, a lot of Conan fans around the country held rallies for him in different cities, which was kind of unprecedented. That made us feel good, that there were people out there that really liked our show and liked Conan and didn’t want this to be happening. Those people followed us to TBS where we got to have a lot more fun. Sure, it wasn’t as prestigious, but who cares about that really?

Andrew Weinberg: I came up with a bit that we did in the last week of shows where the joke was that we were just spending the show’s budget as fast as we could — just expensive sketches that had no reason to exist other than to spend as much money as possible. The first one was we got a Bugatti Veyron — the most expensive car in the world — and dressed it up as a mouse while The Rolling Stones song “Satisfaction” played. In the sketch, Conan said that the total price tag for the comedy bit was $1.5 million. Another one we did in the final episode was when we had a prehistoric sloth skeleton spraying beluga caviar on a Picasso while some other expensive song played. 

It was all just a bit, though. The Bugatti was loaned to us by the Petersen Automotive Museum, so it obviously didn’t cost that much. What’s funny was, this was just after the Haiti earthquake and the world was all “Let’s help Haiti.” Meanwhile, people saw this as us burning money when Haiti was in desperate need. I remember reading comments of people saying, “Shame on Conan!” I was blown away that people actually thought that we’d spent this money — that we’d bought a real Picasso and then ruined it. I also thought it was funny that people thought the show had a budget of millions and millions of dollars per episode and that we could do whatever we want with it, like we could make a show or give it to charity. I understand where people’s hearts were, but the idea that we had the option to give the show’s budget to Haiti was ridiculous.

Matt O’Brien: The final show was bittersweet. We were doing this fun show, destroying paintings and fossils and Bugattis and everything. It was really fun, and every big guest was stopping by and reaching out. But that final show was also when the reality of the situation started to set in a little bit among the staff. On the final show, I wrote Conan’s exit interview with Steve Carell. I remember rehearsing that with the both of them and having this very weird duality of feelings because, it’s Steve Carell and it’s Conan and it’s a big show, but it’s also a piece about the show ending, so there were conflicting emotions.

Conan’s final speech was fantastic. And, that last quote, “work hard, be kind and amazing things will happen” was really poignant. Oddly enough, when I was looking for a house in Los Angeles a few years later, someone had that painted on the wall in their kitchen. I remember looking at my wife and going, “Is that Conan’s speech?” I didn’t end up buying that house, though. I don’t remember why.

I feel like I’ve seen it elsewhere, too. Like it’s become one of those throw pillows that you buy at HomeGoods. A cottage industry has ballooned from that quote, which is a pretty good indication that he nailed it.

After that final show, there was an after-party, and my experience was that it was odd to have an after-party because no one was really in a celebratory mood. I remember going and very quickly saying “this feels odd” and leaving.

I wasn’t at all worried, though, about Conan not getting another show. Soon after The Tonight Show ended, I was working on his tour. The entire thing sold out very quickly, and you saw the excitement in person and this groundswell of support. I thought, “He’ll get a show, for sure.” It never occurred to me that Conan wouldn’t be back on TV. 

Brian Stack: As sad as it was to not see Conan get the shot at The Tonight Show that we all know he deserved, on the positive side, I really admired Conan’s attitude once he knew the show was coming to an end. He said, “Let’s have as much fun as we can possibly have and make these shows as funny as we can and throw everything at the wall.” Just have a blast — that was the goal in the last two weeks.

On that last night, the celebratory nature of it with Neil Young singing “Long May You Run” seemed to suit the mood of the night. One of the sweetest things about that was that I’d found out that, out on the stage, Neil Young said to Conan, “Thank you for all you’ve done for new music.” I thought that was so lovely.

Then, to have Will Ferrell do “Free Bird” with his very pregnant wife Vivica — who I believe gave birth later that night — it was so great to have all these people who love Conan around us for that last night. It made it a special way to go out.

The strange thing was, even though I wish Conan had gotten the shot he deserved with The Tonight Show, I think we all felt more comfortable doing a show that wasn’t quite as big. I remember Conan saying that The Tonight Show is a little bit like an enormous ship that is out at sea. It’s very impressive and beautiful, but it turns kind of slowly and it’s a little bit hard to maneuver. Late Night and our show at TBS were more like we were in a fast little cigarette boat that a bootlegger might use, where we can zip around and go wherever we want.

Michael Gordon: My clearest memory of Conan’s final Tonight Show was getting there early the morning of the final show. We had an editor there named Rob Ashe, and he said to me, “Can you come down to the edit room? I want to show you something.” He had stayed up all night and, totally on his own, made a montage of the greatest hits from the short-lived Tonight Show.

But it wasn’t just a regular montage. If you remember, when Conan’s Tonight Show started, it began with a cold open with Conan running across the country to Cheap Trick’s “Surrender.” So, Rob had taken the same song and had edited our highlights to it and cut in little pieces of the original cold open with Conan running. It was really, really good, and the whole thing made me really teary. When it ended, I said, “That was great. Conan is going to love that, and he’s going to want to put it on the show,” which he did. There were no changes made to Rob’s piece at all except I made one suggestion, which Rob took. Originally, it faded to black, but I suggested adding the words “To be continued.”

I started working with Conan on day one in 1993. He and I are the same generation, and we both grew up in the 1970s watching Johnny Carson every night. I remember, when I first got the job, Conan and I would talk about how much we loved Johnny Carson and how much fun we were going to have with Late Night.

I’m a very enthusiastic and naive person, and very early on, I was very much into the idea of Conan becoming the next Johnny Carson. From the very start of our show, I was saying that Conan is going to be huge, “He’s the next Johnny Carson and, before you know it, he’s going to be the regular host of the Oscars!” And, for a while, it looked like we were actually going on that path. He hosted the Emmys a couple of times and he did great. Also, I still remember that staff meeting in 2004 when Conan announced to everybody that we were going to get The Tonight Show and the room erupted in cheers.

It was all going according to plan, and then, kaboom, January of 2010 happened and we left NBC and we ended up going to basic cable and we no longer had the ratings or visibility we had. So, I thought, “I guess I was wrong, I guess he’s never going to host the Oscars.” In those days on TBS, Conan used to tease me about me saying he’d be hosting the Oscars. That’s why I find it so funny that he’s hosting the Oscars now.

I’m not that surprised though. Conan is unbelievably funny, unbelievably talented, unbelievably hard working and unbelievably smart. I’ve never met anyone else like him. He's unbeatable.