A chimpanzee could do Johnny Carson’s job, at least according to Steve Allen, the original host of NBC’s Tonight.
Allen later told The Chicago Tribune that his comment wasn’t meant as a dig at Carson. His point, he said, was that The Tonight Show had become such a durable institution that a chimp could take over Carson’s chair and it would be months before the ratings dropped.
Carson apparently did not appreciate the nuance.
Tonight Show talent coordinator Craig Tennis wrote in his book Johnny Tonight! that a miffed Carson removed Allen from his list of fill-in guest hosts. The two talk show legends weren’t exactly locked in mortal combat—Carson always gave Allen his props as a late-night pioneer—but Carson did use his power at Tonight to keep Allen at a distance.
It didn’t just cost him a chance to sit in for Carson. It helped keep him out of the show after Carson, too—and, in a roundabout way, helped make room for David Letterman.
After Carson signed a new contract in 1980 that cut down his Tonight Show workload and shortened the show from 90 minutes to an hour, NBC suddenly had room for a new program at 12:30. It was a plum slot: an hour following the biggest name in late night.
Fred Silverman, looking to late night’s past, decided Allen would be the perfect comedian to take the baton from Carson. The NBC boss “almost got down on his knees and pleaded with me to take it,” Allen said.
Allen accepted Silverman’s offer. But Carson’s new deal also gave him production rights to the show that would follow Tonight, and Carson had other ideas. He nixed the Allen show.
Why? Allen claimed he had no idea. “You’re asking the wrong man,” he said.
Whatever Carson’s reasoning, it sent Allen in a different direction. “In vetoing the proposed Allen show, Carson was actually doing Allen and TV viewers a favor,” wrote Associated Press TV critic Peter J. Boyer. Silverman instead promoted Allen into primetime as host of The Steve Allen Comedy Hour. Boyer liked the show, thanking Carson because “prime time could use a few laughs.”
But a few laughs were all viewers got. Allen’s new hour lasted just five episodes.
Meanwhile, Tom Snyder kept the 12:30 slot—for the moment. Snyder’s Tomorrow had followed Carson since 1973, and he wasn’t especially gracious about the possibility of being displaced by Allen, telling Playboy that the whole thing was “press agentry and negotiation and bullshit.”
As for Allen’s comedy? “I don’t want Steve to be mad at me,” Snyder said, “but I think [time] has passed Steve by.”
Snyder survived Allen. He would not survive Letterman.
After NBC canceled Letterman’s short-lived morning show, the young comic’s manager met with Westinghouse about a syndicated late-night talk show.
“Carson didn’t want another comedian following him,” says Mark Malkoff, whose book Love, Johnny Carson examines Carson’s career. But competing against Letterman was worse. “Going head-to-head with Letterman was Carson’s worst-case scenario.”
Letterman was the one young comedian who seemed capable of denting Carson’s ratings. By allowing NBC to replace Snyder with Letterman at 12:30, Carson kept a potential rival out of syndication, protected The Tonight Show, and—thanks to his production rights—gave himself a stake in what came next.
So the slot Silverman had first envisioned for Steve Allen ultimately went to David Letterman. And in a late-night twist worthy of both men, Letterman’s early shows often echoed Allen’s earlier comedy.
“I honestly don’t mind that he uses a lot of my old stunts and routines,” Allen told Los Angeles Times TV critic Bob Porter. “Whenever Dave is interviewed, he always credits the source.”
One famous example: Allen once wore a suit covered in teabags, then submerged himself in a tank of hot water. Letterman recreated the suits stunt several times on his show, subbing in Velcro, Alka-Seltzer tablets, magnets, and Rice Krispies dipped in milk.
On more than one occasion, chimps also played a role on Letterman’s Late Night. Carson apparently did not take offense.
