In an alternate universe, there’s a John Oliver who renewed his Daily Show contract in 2013, stuck around to replace Jon Stewart and eventually burned out — like so many with a nightly telecast.
Of course, that’s not what happened. The British comic was courted by HBO, where he launched Last Week Tonight on April 27, 2014. Instant pop culture darlings, Oliver and his team of writers and researchers became known for their hilarious Sunday night deep dives that informed and, in some cases, have been credited with influencing actual policy on such issues as poultry farming and net neutrality. He started a church to expose how easy it is to get tax-exempt status, was sued by a now-dead coal baron and has an outstanding (and legally binding) offer to pay Justice Clarence Thomas $1 million annually to quit the Supreme Court. But Oliver doesn’t look back on that first decade with the same admiration as his millions of viewers or the peers who’ve awarded his show with a wild 28 Primetime Emmy Awards. “Go back and look at those first episodes,” Oliver, 47, says over an early morning Zoom. “We were writing the show in one or two days. We now have six researchers and six stories in different stages of development at the same time. We’re definitely better at it than when we started.”
The show’s research process sounds a lot like reporting, but you’ve always bristled at words like “journalism.” Has your relationship with that term changed?
I really don’t think we do that. We might commit sporadic acts of journalism in the process, but those would be outliers. The vast majority of the time, we are relying on journalists’ work to aggregate stories. Without them, we just couldn’t do it. They’ve already had the most significant fights. So, as testy as things can get for us with lawyers, the thing that is undergirding our arguments is the previous fights that actual journalists have had. Like, “The New York Times has litigated this. We’re fine.”
Aggregation is not often associated with quality, but you clearly approach it differently.
It’s trying to put a bunch of different things in one place. You’ll see small, narrow stories over a period of years. We want to put them together to show the bigger picture. That’s the added value.
Your main segments used to appear on YouTube just after the HBO telecasts. This season, they don’t drop for another four days — a choice you’ve publicly criticized. Have you had further conversation about that?
No, not at all. That was their decision.
Have you noticed a difference in the way the main segments are received now that they’re dropping for the masses days later?
By the time that we finish one story, I’m just instantly worried about the next one. I’m panicked to the point that when we’ve finished taping the show, we cross the road to our office where we already have outlines for the story that’s happening in two weeks, drafts for what’s happening next week on our desks. There’s no sense of exhaling.
You’ve been witness to a lot of change in a short period of time —the AT&T acquisition and then the Discovery acquisition. It’s almost like a 30 Rock arc.
And that’s always used in a good way, right? Yeah, three different business daddies in 10 years. Also, that’s another reason why it’s not really been 10 years of complete normal stability.
Are these shifts noticeable to you or are you insulated by HBO?
It’s always the same lie before any takeover is about to happen: “I think this is going to be really good.” That’s what you hear, and that is never, ever the case. But feel free to keep believing that for as long as you can! No, I think the beauty is that — to this point — HBO has largely been able to not feel the worst effects of it. That’s the hugely fortunate side of getting to work for them. Long may that continue because I don’t want to have anything to do with any of these corporate parents as they blow in and out of our lives.
Oliver on the set of Last Week Tonight, a show that’s collected 61 Primetime Emmy nominations and 28 wins during its first 10 seasons.
Courtesy of HBO
On the SmartLess podcast, you called stand-up the only way that you can relax. That’s an unexpected take.
They looked so horrified, like I’d said something appalling. I guess it was just a look of extreme pity. But it’s true. For so many people, stand-up is literally the recipe for a nightmare. Whereas, I’ve always found it so satisfying and calming. All the complexity of running a TV show, all the difficulties that can come with that, they go away when it’s just you and an audience. Because of the strike, I got to do it much more last summer than I’ve been able to in a long time. But the truth is: If I found myself with a loose, dead-end evening, I would be tempted to jump on at a comedy club somewhere in New York.
Working in New York, you can also walk into a room and assume that people won’t hate you.
Well, you’d be surprised. (Laughs.) But that’s the thing! If you’re trying out material, you don’t want that. If everyone’s really happy that you’re there, you’re generally not going to be able to find out whether this material works or not. I came back from one of those a little bit frustrated. My wife said, “How’d it go?” It went well, but that doesn’t really mean anything. Then there was one with a bachelor party that was really difficult. I came back from that buzzing, thinking, “Hey, there were two jokes that worked.”
Looking back, was there a Last Week Tonight segment that you were most anxious about airing — over how it would be received or potential ramifications?
We’ve generally factored in the ramifications. Those are always calculated risks. It was a calculated risk to go to Russia to interview Edward Snowden, but I feel like that’s a risk worth taking.
What was the risk there?
You don’t know how happy HBO is going to be that we’ve gone and not told them. It was a calculated risk to stand up to that coal guy, Bob Murray, because we knew he’d send us a cease and desist. We knew what talking about him was going to mean — a years-long lawsuit. It’s a calculated risk to offer Clarence Thomas a million dollars a year to get off the Supreme Court because we have to have the money. But if we can back up everything, we’re going to say, “It’s going to be OK.” By the time we do any show, I’m pretty comfortable with where we are.
Recent health concerns aside, our fascination with the British royals can be a tad comical. As a dual citizen, what’s your take?
It’s often U.S.-fueled, isn’t it? It’s fascinating from the outside, that pomp and circumstance. Watching a country do that is almost pathologically interesting, and they are nothing if not a centuries-long-running soap opera. So, yeah, I do get why Americans are so interested. At moments like royal weddings, you see journalists walking along, talking to people, and it’s so often, “I’m from Texas and we flew here to be here.” Despite the fact this is a country that literally told the king to go fuck himself. It’s amazing to come all the way back around to, “I must be here for the wedding!”
Starting with the 2023 awards, the TV Academy moved it from variety talk to variety sketch, which didn’t stop its winning streak.
Kevin Winter/Getty Images
You have a taxing job. How do you look at the future?
It is exhausting, but it’s constantly interesting. It makes me so grateful to have this outlet. And it’s still fun. Coming back this year and doing the Clarence Thomas thing, you could feel the trouble in the air. It’s intoxicating. I don’t know to what extent that counts as a character flaw, but I really do love it.
What does your wife say about some of your wilder segments?
It goes back to risk. She just wants to understand why a risk is worth taking. The Clarence Thomas thing is difficult to explain when the first thing you say is, “OK, we’ve written this contract so that I will owe Clarence Thomas a million dollars a year for the rest of his life.” It would be financially catastrophic for me but be good for America — and I think that’s a trade-off that’s worth making. She came to that show, which she doesn’t do often. Afterward, she said, “Oh, I understand. This could turn our lives upside down, but it’s totally worth it.”
Should he ever accept, I think there’d be a GoFundMe to help you.
Right? I don’t necessarily want Sarah McLachlan behind me — but if that’s what it takes, then, yes, I am going to need your help.
This story first appeared in the April 24 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. Click here to subscribe.