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Having finally dispensed with the busy, distracting, painfully time-consuming duties of hosting a nationally broadcast late-night talk show for 11 years straight, Stephen Colbert has returned to his true passion at last: Hosting public access television on local Michigan TV.
That’s right: In what we can only describe as a matrimonial level of commitment to the bit, Colbert returned to the airwaves after an “excruciating 23 hours without being on TV” on Friday night to once again guest host Monroe Community Media‘s Only In Monroe, which he previously helmed as a practice run in 2015 as he prepped to take over CBS’s Late Show franchise. (Fulfilling, among other things, a prophecy uttered on the final Late Show With Stephen Colbert on Thursday night that “Show business being what it is these days, that’s probably where you’ll see me next.”)

Star Wars didn’t invent Memorial Day, but the holiday was a relatively new concept when George Lucas’ surprise hit opened on May 25, 1977. In the late ’60s and early ’70s, the holiday formerly known as Decoration Day, which originally honored Union soldiers and, after World War II, all service members, became Memorial Day. But for Hollywood’s purposes, the real impact came from the date, which moved from May 30 to the final Monday in May, giving potential moviegoers a fixed three-day weekend nationwide. With The Mandalorian And Grogu, Disney reasserts a tradition. The first six Star Wars movies opened on or around Memorial Day, before The Force Awakens broke the trend. After trying to reclaim the holiday for Star Wars in 2018, when Solo bombed, Disney has filled the slot with empty-calorie live-action remakes of animated classics that leave audiences hungry for the real thing, which are conveniently found on Disney+. An adaptation of something else on that streamer, Mandalorian And Grogu sees Disney attempt to fit the original Memorial Day blockbuster into its modern mold.
Star Wars and Memorial Day had an immediate symbiotic relationship, providing a nation of children free from school with space opera. Opening the Friday before Memorial Day, in just 43 theaters, Star Wars reached number two at the box office, initially outpaced by the second-highest-grossing film of 1977, Smokey And The Bandit. Hollywood is slow to jump on trends and didn’t have a big release for 1978’s three-day summer kickoff, though a re-release of Lucas’ breakthrough, American Graffiti, did capitalize on the director’s success. But Fox would be ready in 1979, when it released Alien over Memorial Day weekend, following that up a year later with the first Star Wars sequel, The Empire Strikes Back.
Within three years of Star Wars, the holiday was of utmost importance to exhibitors. After Star Wars‘ first Memorial Day, the number of theaters in which movies would premiere on opening day and the amount of money they could generate at the box office exploded. Empire Strikes Back opened in 126 theaters before rolling out to more than 1,300 by August. Return Of The Jedi opened on more than a thousand screens. The following year, fellow Lucasfilm release Indiana Jones And The Temple Of Doom debuted on 1,600. By 1985, Memorial Day looked like the sequel-heavy movie holiday we know today, with the final Roger Moore-led Bond film, A View To A Kill, hitting more than 1,500 screens, and Rambo: First Blood Part II on 2,000.
“The summer movie season was invented by the architectural firm of Spielberg and Lucas,” Paul Dergarabedian, Head Of Marketplace Trends at Comscore, tells The A.V. Club. “It’s an 18-week season, running from the first Friday in May through Labor Day Monday, and it accounts for, on average, close to 40% of the total year’s domestic box office take. Memorial Day weekend is one of the biggest movie-going holidays on the theatrical release calendar, like the Super Bowl and the World Series combined.”

Foreigners in the U.S. who want a green card will need to leave and apply in their home country, the Trump administration announced Friday, in a surprise change to a longstanding policy.
(Image credit: Wilfredo Lee)

You could forgive Stephen Colbert for indulging in a little reminiscence the past few nights. His time at The Late Show was coming to an end, after all, and with it the entire Late Show itself—the first legitimate network TV challenger to The Tonight Show’s stranglehold on America’s bedtime viewing habits. (“Network” qualifier forever necessary since The Arsenio Hall Show had managed the feat first, albeit in syndication.) It was a historic occasion—not least of all because the show was arguably done in by presidential decree—so the sentimentality of farewells from favorite guests and cheeky looks back at the “worst” of The Late Show With Stephen Colbert were warranted.
That all culminated in Thursday night’s finale, which wasn’t so much steeped in the history of The Late Show or Colbert’s three decades in late night as it was the history of television as a whole. It began with the good old-fashioned found-footage mashup in the cold open, which assembled a toast to and roast of Colbert from talk-shows clips that reached as far back as The Tonight Show’s first two hosts, Steve Allen and Jack Paar. That sense escalated with the entrance of Colbert’s final guest, Paul McCartney, a flashy booking marking the significance of a talk-show franchise as well as its home base. The Ed Sullivan Theater hosted The Late Show longer than either David Letterman or Stephen Colbert, but it welcomed McCartney decades before either of them, when The Beatles brought the British Invasion to CBS across three episodes of Sullivan’s eponymous variety show in 1964.
An audience with McCartney and a microphone to his right during a show-closing rendition of “Hello, Goodbye” were appropriately celebratory ways to send Colbert off. But they also drove home another detail about the finale: Unlike Letterman’s sign-off in 2015, there was nothing to look forward to on the other side of this one. No one’s inheriting the Late Show desk. Nobody’s raiding clubs, theaters, TikTok, the Dropout roster, or the Onion newsroom to assemble a new talk-show staff and tasking them with getting topical, silly, or some mixture of the two on a national stage. Colbert’s the one with a future here, free to apply his intelligence and go-for-broke screen presence to any number of creative endeavors now that the golden handcuffs of joking about the news every night have been taken from him. It’s late-night TV that’s feeling even more like a relic of the past than it did before.
Consider the contents of Colbert’s final Late Show. Of the programs featured in the opening montage, the most recent to premiere was The Rundown With Robin Thede, which debuted in 2017—and concluded in 2018. Nodding toward The Ed Sullivan Theater’s history gave the finale context and heft, but it also meant Colbert and McCartney spent the first segment of their interview discussing events that took place more than 60 years ago. A running gag about a glowing green wormhole threatening to swallow the theater whole—and maybe all of late night with it—pepped up the usual talk-show valediction with some visual pizazz and Colbert-appropriate sci-fi nonsense. But its final beat alluded to a primetime drama that went off the air back when Letterman was still on NBC.

CBS aired its final installment of The Late Show tonight, with Stephen Colbert—class act that he is—starting things off with a reminder that he has always referred to the series as “the joy machine,” before gently letting a wide swathe of cameoing celebrities down in their dreams of being his “last guest.” Bryan Cranston, Paul Rudd, Tim Meadows, Tig Notaro, and Ryan Reynolds all crashed the Ed Sullivan Theater for one last early hurrah, with Colbert reveling in his role as the ringmaster of the chaos for a final time.