Paul McCartney, Black Hole Ending Explained

How does one put a bow on TV’s No. 1 late-night talk show after a cancellation that still feels premature?

Over the past two weeks alone, Stephen Colbert reunited with fellow “Strike Force Five” hosts Jimmy Fallon, Jimmy Kimmel, Seth Meyers, and John Oliver; shared the stage with former Comedy Central cohort Jon Stewart; welcomed back original “Late Show” host David Letterman and longtime bandleader Paul Shaffer; got roasted by Julia Louis-Dreyfus in character as Selina Meyer; and even coaxed a quasi-“Birdman” revival out of Michael Keaton. There was also a musical victory lap, featuring performances by David Byrne, Andra Day, and Bruce Springsteen, plus one final, celebrity-packed installment of the Colbert Questionert.

By the time Thursday’s finale arrived, it almost felt as though the show had already spent two weeks pulling out every stop imaginable. Which begged the question: What, exactly, was left for the finale of CBS’ “The Late Show” — especially one scheduled to run 17 minutes over?

Colbert began the hour by addressing both the studio audience and viewers at home directly.

“We have done over 1,800 of these shows,” he began. “Most nights, I come out here and talk to the audience beforehand. Tonight, I thought I’d talk to the audience in here and the audience out there, at home.”

Colbert went on to describe “The Late Show” as “the joy machine” — joking that bandleader Louis Cato “stole it from us, and we are currently in litigation right now” — before turning sincere.

“If you choose to do [the job] with joy,” he said, “it doesn’t hurt as much when your fingers get caught in the gears.”

He proceeded to praise the staffers who helped produce the show over the last 11 years, adding: “I cannot adequately explain to you what the people who work here have done for each other, and how much we mean to each other,” likening everyone he employed as “the great Achilles whom we knew.”

Colbert then revisited the mission statement from the debut of “The Colbert Report” on October 17, 2005: “Anyone can read the news to you. I promise to feel the news at you.”

“I realized pretty soon in this job that our job over here was different,” he continued. “We were here to feel the news with you — and I don’t know about you, but I sure have felt it.”

Colbert continued: “We love doing the show for you, but what we really, really love is doing the show with you.” He then closed the address with the same words he said to the studio audience before each taping: “Have a good show, thanks for being here, and let’s do it, y’all.”

That was followed by a sprawling tribute to the history of late night and the iconic theater that has been home to “The Late Show” since its 1993 premiere. Led by its namesake Ed Sullivan, the montage cycled through an eclectic lineup of past and present hosts — in order: Seth Meyers, Jimmy Kimmel, Jon Stewart, John Oliver, Jimmy Fallon, Samantha Bee, Arsenio Hall, Johnny Carson, Chelsea Handler, Andy Cohen, David Letterman, Craig Ferguson, Dick Cavett, Trevor Noah, Jay Leno, Joan Rivers, Robin Thede, Conan O’Brien, Jack Benny, Steve Allen, and Jack Paar.

The montage quickly devolved into an escalating torrent of insults aimed at Colbert: “I’m not surprised, because frankly, Stephen Colbert shot a guy once. He’s a mean guy, he looks mean, doesn’t he? He’s getting fatter by the episode. He’s got a tiny little, genetically altered wiener. He got caught m*****bating in a subway tunnel. I would rather watch ‘The Late Show Starring Kanye West and Voldemort.’ He looks like a short butcher peeping over two pounds of liver….”

Whatever that means.

“Welcome, one and all, to ‘The Late Show,'” Colbert began. “I’m your host, Stephen Colbert — and if you’re just tuning in for ‘The Late Show,’ you missed a lot.”

Colbert then launched into a Donald Trump-free monologue — though there’s no telling how many political jokes were sacrificed to the parade of famous friends interrupting from the studio audience. First came Bryan Cranston, who stormed out of the Ed Sullivan Theater after learning he would not, in fact, be Colbert’s final guest. Then Paul Rudd arrived bearing a ceremonial retirement gift: six — nay, five — bananas. (Rudd got hungry.) Like Cranston, he assumed he’d been tapped as Colbert’s last-ever guest, as did Colbert’s former Second City castmate Tim Meadows.

Suffice it to say, none of them took the rejection particularly well.

After the first commercial break came the final installment of Colbert’s long-running desk piece, “Meanwhile…,” during which Louis Cato and the Big Joy Machine might’ve cost CBS a small fortune by sneaking in a few bars from the Charlie Brown classic “Linus and Lucy.” (Oops! Oh well!)

Soon after, the segment was interrupted by another famous friend, Tig Notaro, who claimed she simply enjoys attending historic events, citing the Obama inauguration and [checks notes] the moon landing. Before Colbert could fact-check her, however, the camera cut to fellow audience member Ryan Reynolds, who said he came to pay tribute to “one of the world’s greatest entertainers.” Not Colbert, as it turned out, but Big Joy Machine keyboardist Corey Bernhardt, to whom Reynolds ceremonially passed the bananas.

Colbert has made no secret of the fact that he wanted Pope Leo XIV as his final guest. But when His Holiness refused to leave his dressing room — he was definitely there — out walked Sir Paul McCartney, returning to the Ed Sullivan Theater one last time to present Colbert with an autographed portrait commemorating The Beatles’ legendary U.S. television debut on “The Ed Sullivan Show” on February 9, 1964.

McCartney went on to describe what it was like backstage before that performance, recalling that the band had to “go a few floors down to get makeup…. The girls put makeup on us, and it was bright orange,” prompting Colbert to quip, “That’s very popular in certain circles these days.”

That marked the night’s only real reference to President Donald Trump. Well, almost. Colbert then asked McCartney about his first impression of America, which elicited the following answer:

“As a boy from Liverpool, America was where all the music we loved came from. All the rock and roll, the blues, and the whole thing, even going back to Fred Astaire. It was all from America. So that’s what we thought. America was just the land of the free, the greatest democracy. That was what it was. Still is… hopefully.”

Throughout the hour, reality itself seemed to be malfunctioning. At one point, Colbert apologized to McCartney and wandered backstage to investigate, only to discover a giant interdimensional wormhole — along with good friend Neil deGrasse Tyson, conveniently on hand to explain why it had opened with less than 15 minutes remaining in Colbert’s final show.

“It’s gradually swallowing up all matter and antimatter around it,” Tyson explained. “You see, the fabric of the universe is underpinned by an immutable set of physical laws. Two contradictory realities cannot coexist without rupturing the space-time continuum. For instance, if a show is number one in late night and it also gets canceled.”

“They canceled ‘Gutfeld!’?!?” Colbert exclaimed.

Alas, they had canceled him.

Your cancellation has created a rift in the comedy-variety talk continuum,” Tyson continued, “and if it grows, all of late-night television could be destroyed.”

Before Tyson had a chance to correct Colbert about anything, the “Late Show” host pushed the famed astrophysicist into the wormhole, leaving him in desperate need of another wise mentor figure. But the best the universe could deliver was Jon Stewart, there to read his longtime pal a statement on behalf of their corporate overlords: “Paramount strongly believes in covering both sides of any black hole that is swallowing everything we know and love, and the coverage must also include the positive aspects of the insatiable emptiness.”

Stewart ultimately deduced that the hole was a metaphor — but also, a literal hole, which also went and consumed Andy Cohen — and that Colbert had but two choices: He could either walk into the hole kicking and screaming, or do what he’s done for the past 30 years whenever confronted with darkness — stare it down and laugh. Stewart then departed to get his “72 hours of beauty sleep” ahead of Monday’s episode of “The Daily Show.”

Afterward, Colbert’s fellow Strike Force Five members — Jimmy Kimmel, Seth Meyers, John Oliver, and “Handsome Jimmy” Fallon — appeared to tell Colbert how much he’d be missed… and how Americans would soon be deprived of one middle-aged white man making jokes about the news. (“The news… why? What’s going on?” Fallon deadpanned, leaning into his reputation as late night’s least political host.)

Colbert wondered why his fellow hosts weren’t also being consumed by their own black holes, prompting Kimmel to note that one opened at his show last year, but disappeared “after about three days.”

“At some point, this may come for all of our shows,” Oliver added. “But Stephen, what’s important to remember is that tonight, it is going to eat you.”

Colbert insisted on finishing the last 12 minutes of his show the way he wanted to — teeing Oliver up for a joke about Colbert’s “Lord of the Rings” obsession, and a cameo by Elijah Wood! — but the “Last Week Tonight” host was not ultimately wrong. When Colbert returned to the stage to continue performing for his audience, everything inside the Ed Sullivan Theater was swallowed by the black hole, sending the show to commercial and seemingly ending this elaborate pretape. But it did not.

When the show returned from break, Colbert had been transported to another dimension, where he joined Elvis Costello, Louis Cato, and former “Late Show” bandleader Jon Batiste for an acoustic rendition of Costello’s 1982 song “Jump Up.”

Viewers were then transported back to the Ed Sullivan Theater, where McCartney led a full-band performance of “Hello, Goodbye.” Eventually, Colbert’s entire crew joined them on stage.

Then came time to bring the house lights down. Colbert headed backstage with McCartney, who was given the honor of shutting off the marquee outside the Ed Sullivan Theater.

Then, in an homage to “St. Elsewhere,” the entire theater was subsumed by a snow globe sitting in the middle of Midtown Manhattan. Colbert’s dog Benny wandered into frame and sniffed at the globe before Colbert’s voice called out from off-screen: “Come on, Benny. It’s time to go.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how Colbert brought the entire “Late Show” franchise to a close.

What did you think of the series finale? Grade it via the following poll, then hit the comments with your full review.