Chaos Reigns on Everybody’s Live with John Mulaney
Photos courtesy of Netflix
Zoom in on the dash clock. Hit the Wang Chung. Cue up the ‘80s-looking footage of a sprawling, sunburned Los Angeles. John Mulaney’s Netflix talk show is back on Wednesday nights for a 12-week run, and it’s largely unchanged from last year’s six-day experiment—for better and worse.
If you missed John Mulaney Presents: Everybody’s in LA last year, you missed a fascinating show that didn’t just embrace its shagginess and rough edges but made them the whole damn point. Mulaney would welcome a weird collection of guests—a celebrity, a couple of comedians, an expert on some aspect of LA culture, a musical guest—and forgo the typical talk show one-on-ones in favor of a rambling group conversation (very loosely) themed around a specific nightly topic related to the expert’s field of choice. It was disjointed and frequently awkward but that made it seem realer than talk shows usually get, and Mulaney’s relish for catching guests off-guard and courting live TV disaster was infectious.
Last night’s premiere of Everybody’s Live with John Mulaney, as the new show is called, picked up right where last year’s show left off—albeit, as Mulaney joked at the beginning, with enough time in-between for him to have forgotten absolutely everything he learned making the first show. Celebrated actor Richard Kind is back as announcer and sidekick, a smiling robot named Saymo delivers drinks and snacks to the guests, and the whole set looks like a rich Californian’s living room from the late ‘60s—all encouraging the kind of convivial vibe you expect from a hang-out chat show.
Everybody’s Live’s spark comes from the tension between that warm, welcoming atmosphere and the barely-constrained chaos of its production. Guests don’t always gel, the celebrities don’t always have anything interesting to say about the night’s topic, the expert tries to relay facts while the famous people around them barely pay attention, comedians try to get their jokes in, and Mulaney intentionally keeps everybody off-balance, routinely jumping from guest to guest with unexpected questions, abruptly cutting to pretaped segments, or patching in live callers who nominally have something to say on the topic. (The live calls would be the first thing dropped from the show if it had any other host and aired on any other network.) In last night’s monologue Mulaney joked that a show like this is the only way to get his heart rate up now that he’s famously clean and sober, and he takes palpable delight in a format that bucks the tightly regimented structure usually enforced by the TV industry.