June 27, 1996
pp B04

Bill Maher is anxious.

It is a sweaty, late-spring day in New York and the host of Comedy Centralís ìPolitically Incorrectî has just made his first trip to the city since moving the hit cable show to Los Angeles several months earlier. Maher, clearly, is not happy to be back.

He despises Manhattan--something about its ìkarma,î he mumbles, which makes him just a tad uneasy (ìI was flying in here last night and my skin started to crawl...î). But in a few hours, he will be on ìLate Night with David Letterman,î and even though heís been a denizen of network late-show green rooms for years (and was even briefly a New York-based ìTonight Showî correspondent a couple of years ago), the butterflies still are flapping.

After a few moments with Maher, it becomes obvious that this man is shy, painfully so. In an interview at a spare office at Comedy Centralís Midtown headquarters, he glances away nervously. Fidgets with half-eaten bagel. Compulsively sips at a bottle of water. He hardly appears to the fire-breathing host of a talk show that is, as a recent ì60 Minutesî profile observed, ìunbound by the niceties of objectivity and fairness.î It occurs to you that the phrases that flash mantra-like across the screen before each edition of ìPolitically Incorrectî (ìFame is the worst drug....Get over yourselfî) are directed at the host as much as anyone else. For Maher, 40--shy, uneasy--fame is something to be ambivalent about.

ìI have often thought,î he says, ìthat some people strive for fame to eliminate the need of ever having to introduce yourself to somebody. Not that everybody knows me, but the more that they do, the better. It means the fewer times I have to explain myself-- ëHi, Iím Bill Maher and I need a key to the room.í Itís just hard for me. Thatís very characteristic of talk-show hosts. Johnny [Carson] was like that. [Talk shows] work for shy people.î

Even after three years at the helm of Comedy Centralís most popular show, Maher still has to ask for the key to the hotel room and explain to people that his name is pronounced ìMar,î not ìMayor.î Moreover, his popularity as a pillar of the stand-up world came into question recently when ticket sales for a Toyota Comedy Festival gig in Manhattan were flat.

But these may be just speed bumps on the road to the big time. This is a face--the broad nose and mouth that on TV is perpetually fixed in a sardonic grin--we are about to see a lot more of. Maher has just published a book, ìDoes Anybody Have a Problem with That?î (Villard, $20), based on outtakes from ìPolitically Incorrectísî first three years. Meanwhile, Comedy Central is pumping up the promotional volume on its numero uno political commentator, looking to boost him into genuine stardom by the time the political conventions roll around in August.

The reason, simply, is that Maher will shoulder the bulk of the networkís political coverage later this summer and into the fall. Broad shoulders will indeed be needed. Using quantity as a yardstick, Maher will become one of TVís busiest political commentators. He will anchor 12 hours of Republican and Democratic convention coverage (assisted by ìPolitically Incorrectî stalwarts Arianna Huffington and Al Franken, who both will work the floor). But hereís the odd thing: After all this build-up, Comedy Central will relinquish Maher after the November elections. It was not a Comedy Central decision, but rather HBO Downtown Productionsí determination to sell the rights of the show to ABC, where it will air at 12:05 am opposite ìLate Showî and NBCís ìTonight Show with Jay Lenoî (both programs, incidentally, that helped launch Maherís career) beginning in January. It may be a quantum jump in the fortunes of ìPolitically Incorrectî and its host, but it is also a giant risk. Maherís show has thrived in the relative tranquility of Comedy Central, but at ABC it will have the chore of holding onto ìNightlineî viewers.

ABC executives believe the showís newsy topical format makes it compatible with the news program. But will viewers agree? Never before has a post- ìNightlineî show worked. It remains unclear exactly how many ABC affiliates will air the show.

And poor clearance, of course, equals poor ratings. An ABC spokeswoman says that even though ìactual station commitmentsî will take place later this summer, ìweíve gotten favorable reaction.î She says all 10 Disney/ABC-owned stations will air it at the appointed time. Ninety percent of all affiliates are expected to air it as well, she says.

Phil Beuth, former chief of ABCís early-morning and late-night schedules, says, ìThere are three problems with Bill Maher: clearance, clearance, and clearance.î Affiliates make huge profits from sitcom reruns and old movies, ìso the problem is whether Disney can lean hard enough on stations to clear it [right after ìNightlineî]. If the old rules apply, then poor Bill is dead.î

As a child growing up in Rivervale, N.J.--some 10 miles northwest of Manhattan--Maher nightly watched his greatest hero, Johnny Carson. At a time when most small boys in most small suburban towns dreamed of becoming Mickey Mantle or Willie Mays, Maher dreamed of becoming Carson. In homage, Maher emulates his idolís mannerisms during each showís monologue, from the waving of the hands to the abrupt rocking of his heels with the delivery of each punchline. ìIím surprised more people donít call me on it,î he says, adding that Carson ìjust bleeds into you after all those years. If youíre going to do someone, you might as well do him, [because] he was so great.î

To be Johnny, or at least to be like Johnny, has been a prime motivation for Maher during his career, even if it was not immediately apparent. After college (Cornell, where he was an English major), Maher joined the stand-up comic rat race in New York and Los Angeles, which led to late-night TV appearances.

And those, in turn, led to acting. There were starring and bit roles in a succession of B-movies, like ìD.C. Cab,î ìPizza Man,î ìRatboy,î ìRags to Riches,î and (will he ever live this down?) ìCannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death.î There were many cameos in sitcoms, too. He was, he says, one of dozens ìof actors out there like that who work all the time...but unless youíre in a vehicle, it all adds up to nothing at the end of the day.î

The vehicle came in 1985, when he landed the role of Marty Lang--a sleazy officeworker--in Gary David Goldbergís ìSara,î a much-touted NBC midseason sitcom. The show about three San Francisico lawyers starred Geena Davis and Bronson Pinchot and was supposed to be a hit. It lasted only months. ìIt was totally depressing, [but] it was really a blessing,î Maher says. ìIt would have been a curse to have become known as the office creep.î

Then, later that year, Motown and King World, the syndicator of shows such as ìWheel of Fortune,î decided to launch a late-night talk show called ìNightshift.î ìThey said, ëWe want a fresh face, and you are the guyíî he recalls. ìThey literally said, ëWe donít want David Brenner or Robert Klein.í Well, they hired me for two months, then they fired me and got David Brenner.î

He now calls the experience ìvery painful,î mostly because he realized that the job of talk-show host was exactly what he had wanted all along. Another shot came in the late summer of 1990, when he briefly hosted ìThe Midnight Hourî for CBS. But it was not until 1992 when, after appearing on an election-night special for Comedy Central, he was asked to put together an idea for a show that would become ìPolitically Incorrect.î

The basic idea was to mix four different people to generate nightly a kind of informed cocktail-party chatter--even if few ìPolitically Incorrectî guests were unlikely to ever attend the same party. Rep. Susan Molinari (R-Staten Island) and rapper Dr. Dre were once on a show about jury duty. Howard Sternís sidekick Robin Quivers, Jerry Seinfeld and political consultant Ed Rollins once discussed the future of cities. Roseanne and three ex-O.J. jurors revisited the verdict.

In three years, ìPolitically Incorrectî has become Comedy Centralís top-rated series (about 280,000 households per night), but Maher has taken some shots along the way, too. Heís been criticized for being aloof, even surly. And he got grief over his habit of calling an occasional female guest ìbabyî or ìdoll.î ìI stupidly swore off it because I got mail, then I got a ton of mail saying... ëYou wimp, I would love to be called babe.íî

The ìbabeî issue gets to the heart of what his show is about: namely, that it is Maher himself. ìWhat I wound up saying to viewers is, look, if this offends you, Iím sorry. I donít want to offend you, but you know what? Youíre wrong! Youíre being too sensitive.î It is an attitude, Maher admits, that has given him a reputation for being a difficult guy. ìIíve certainly lived with that my whole life,î he says. ì[But] I know itís not coming from a place of malice. I can get literally hundreds of people to swear for me.î

Whatever happens at ABC, Maher says he will retire in 10 years. An animal lover, he says, ìI want to work with the animals, live on a wildlife preserve and live out my life there, not really be in the grind...î What more perfect place, after all, for a shy late-night talk host?

Copyright 1996, Newsday, Inc.