Daily Variety
Jan. 7, 2005

The Late Late Show With Craig Ferguson

(Series -- CBS, 12:37 a.m., weeknights)

Produced in L.A. by Worldwide Pants. Executive producer, Todd Allan Yasui; supervising 
producer, Catherine Hoeven; segment producers, David Harte, Michael Naidus; director, Brian 
McAloon; head writer, Jonathan Goldblatt; writers, Ross Abrash, Peter Charkalis, Chris DeLuca, 
Ferguson, Kip Madsen, Ted Mulkerin, Ned Rice, Joe Strazzulo; talent executive, Alisa Gichon.

Host: Craig Ferguson

By BRIAN LOWRY 

With all the middle-aged neuroses in latenight (beginning with those of David Letterman, who 
seems irritated merely mentioning this show, even though his company produces it), Craig 
Ferguson brings a sprightly, almost elfin presence to the scene -- as if one of Darby O'Gill's 
leprechauns was given a talkshow. Somewhat offsetting those good vibrations, alas, is the fact 
that the show hasn't been especially funny, though Ferguson is such an easygoing presence -- 
particularly when compared to Craig Kilborn's frat-boy snark -- that it's difficult not to root for 
him at least a little.

With the exception of the standup-driven Leno, hosts have to make these franchises work at the 
desk, and Ferguson's truncated monologues recognize as much. The host resembles a young Dick 
Van Dyke, and his playful persona thus far hinges on being bemused by the whole exercise, as if 
even he can't believe he's got the job.

Indeed, the first night Ferguson went so far as to entreat critics to "be nice" by taking into 
consideration that he was still breaking the desk in. Somebody should apprise Fox's reality 
department of this strategy.

Three nights in, however, the scripted bits have been too uneven, with a segment titled "What's 
in my drawers?" reflecting the stale aroma, no matter what the camera finds. Moreover, 
Ferguson's genial "Can ya believe a Scotsman's hostin' a la'nigh' show?" shtick can only go so 
far.

At this point, his efforts are abetted immeasurably when guests such as David Duchovny (who 
should contemplate becoming a professional guest) and Jon Cryer do most of the heavy lifting, 
an element of good fortune upon which no late-late series can consistently rely.

Beyond a need for sharper writing, Ferguson has betrayed that he isn't doing much homework 
regarding the guests, asking questions that betray a lack of familiarity with their various projects. 
No one expects the hosts to see everything, but there's a more artful way to mask such 
oversights.

The irony is that while Ferguson himself seems refreshingly laid back, the cattle-prodded studio 
audience tries too hard, applauding wildly ("Glasgow! Woo!") at everything that's said. Nobody's 
asking for Tom Snyder here, but a pinch more sobriety wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Of course, anyone in this slot would face the awkward challenge of picking up from Letterman 
without threatening him, and in that respect, Ferguson appears well suited to the role. Still, when 
he featured a gag in which one of his crew watched NBC's Conan O'Brien to provide updates 
and simply laughed convulsively, it was a small reminder as to where the remote would lead me 
the next time I was up at 12:37.

Not that I wouldn't check in on Ferguson down the road to monitor his progress. Per his request, 
I'm trying to be nice.