Conan O’Brien’s talent for self-deprecating humor shone brightly during his Oscars hosting gig. This ability to poke fun at himself was a key element of his appeal during his time on NBC’s Late Night With Conan O’Brien, where the show’s poor ratings became a running joke and a catalyst for bizarre comedy. This same quality made him a winning host at Sunday’s awards show. O’Brien’s presence on stage, combining playful humor with genuine affection for film and empathy for an industry impacted by the fires, created a relaxed atmosphere. His self-effacing style put the guests at ease, encouraging them to enjoy themselves.
The Oscars marked a return to broadcast television for O’Brien, who hosted Late Night from 1993 to 2009, until Jay Leno honored a prior commitment to retire and pass the torch to him at The Tonight Show. However, the show’s initial ratings were disappointing. As rumors of Leno’s comeback circulated, O’Brien’s supporters rallied online. Instead of allowing O’Brien time to adjust to the new slot, as he had done with Late Night, NBC negotiated his departure. Leno did, in fact, return, eventually handing the show over to Jimmy Fallon in 2014. Despite a clause in Conan’s settlement requiring him to stay off television for six months, he found ways to express his discontent.
O’Brien quickly resurfaced with a stand-up tour titled “The Legally Prohibited From Being Funny on Television Tour,” which also led to the documentary Conan O’Brien Can’t Stop. By the end of 2010, TBS had recruited him for a new late-night show, Conan, which ran until 2021. For the past six years, he’s also hosted the successful podcast, Conan O’Brien Needs a Friend. Additionally, last spring saw the debut of the acclaimed Max travel series, Conan O’Brien Must Go. Since leaving NBC, his career has been more diverse and engaging than it might have been had he remained at the desk once occupied by Johnny Carson. For those who have always appreciated Conan’s underdog persona, seeing him back on a major network, albeit briefly, hosting what he called “Hollywood’s biggest night that starts at four in the afternoon,” felt like a long-overdue vindication.
His monologue was strong, memorable not so much for individual jokes as for O’Brien’s affable delivery. Each Best Picture nominee received a tongue-in-cheek compliment. While jabs at the length of *Killers of the Flower Moon* and the premise of *Anatomy of a Fall* seemed predictable, the *Doubt* joke was a hit: “Its logline is: A movie about the Catholic Church, but don’t worry.” O’Brien also diffused potential tension by acknowledging Jimmy Kimmel (“If you’re gonna tweet about the Oscars, remember: My name is Jimmy Kimmel”). After the lighthearted roasting, he transitioned smoothly into a sincere message of support for members of the Hollywood community affected by the fires. “In moments such as this, any awards show can seem self-indulgent and superfluous,” O’Brien said. “The Oscars also shines a light on an incredible community of people you will never see.”
Awards ceremonies often suffer from excessive skits, gags, and staged interactions with celebrities, a frequent criticism of the Oscars. However, zany bits are Conan’s strength, and he executed them well. He ended the monologue by playfully arguing with a mock-outraged Jason Momoa about his casual attire, then dedicated just the right amount of time to a production number promising not to waste time. A parody ad for “CinemaStreams,” a product that combines numerous smartphone screens to create something resembling a movie theater, felt very much in line with his late-night style and was funny even with the cameo from a very on-brand Paul Giamatti. (“His cut of that commercial was six hours long—and very violent,” O’Brien joked.) Instead of simply having LA firefighters on stage for applause, as other awards shows have done this year, he provided them with slightly edgy jokes (“Our hearts go out to all of those who have lost their homes—and I’m talking about the producers of *Maestro*”), because who could possibly be upset with *heroes*? The evening’s prime-time version of *Late Night*’s famous Triumph the Insult Comic Dog was a sandworm from *Dune* that played “Chopsticks” on the piano and then returned later for a harp solo.
Ultimately, the best moments of the hosting gig were simply Conan being himself, allowing the winners to have their moment and using self-deprecating humor to put everyone at ease. It didn’t matter if a joke fell flat, because he was quick to make a funnier one about the failure (“Not gettin’ paid a lot!”). And when things became awkward, he broke into a goofy jig—a familiar trait from his late-night days—implying that he was just a simple clown, making a fool of himself for our amusement. Indeed, it takes an exceptional clown to make a four-hour ceremony feel like anything but a chore. “If you’re still enjoying the show, you have something called Stockholm syndrome,” O’Brien joked, late in the evening. Perhaps. Or perhaps it was simply good hosting.
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