Title of This Johnny Carson Bio Foreshadows Its Biases

     Johnny Carson remains one of TV’s most iconic figures, a fact underscored by the many books written about him. From Ed McMahon’s memoir to Henry Bushkin’s insider account, Carson’s life has been dissected from nearly every angle. Bill Zehme’s Carson the Magnificent, completed posthumously by Mike Thomas, enters this crowded field with more hagiography than biography. A sampling includes King of the Night: The Life of Johnny Carson; And Now... Here's Johnny! The Life of Johnny Carson; Johnny Carson: The Magnificent Life Of A Late-Night Legend; and others by his friends and sidekicks.

The latest entry in this crowded and competitive field is Carson the Magnificent by Bill Zehme with Mike Thomas.  Zehme had written previously about Carson, most notably in a celebrated 2002 article in Esquire magazine, and he repurposed the stockpile of information he had gathered for this book. However, when Zehme passed prematurely from cancer, his friend and colleague Mike Thomas completed the book for him.

The book offers a disjointed timeline that repeatedly circles back to Carson’s retirement while also skimming over his darker traits—black-out alcoholism, philandering, stormy moods, and troubled family ties. Zehme’s prose often muddies rather than clarifies, with sentences so mannered they obscure their meaning.

This car-crash of a sentence is a good example, one marred by long dashes and a wide array of modifiers that obscures the author’s meaning. In describing Carson’s difficult relationships with his three sons, Zehme writes, “So it followed that he had sired three sons who would also never quite believe they were unconditionally adored (or, at times, much cared for) — no matter that his own cloistered heart wanted far better for them than he had ever gotten (this last phrase a jumbled reference to Carson’s relationship with his mother, who withheld her affections throughout her lifetime).… Thus, the circle stayed unbroken—a fact he would later grasp with sizable remorse. Except it was a frozen, paralytic remorse that all but stymied him from correcting matters.”

So apparently, Carson was not a particularly good father, giving his sons the same unloving parenting he received from his frigid mother. But couldn’t Zehme have found a clearer way to say this?

While Carson was undeniably a gifted host—warm, witty, stylish, and generous to his guests—Zehme exaggerates his originality. Much of Carson’s formats and signature bits were borrowed from Steve Allen, who also used Tonight to tackle social issues and showcase groundbreaking talent like Bob Dylan, Lenny Bruce, and Frank Zappa. Allen even thrived in prime time, a leap Carson was never able to make.

Zehme also overlooks how Carson’s dominance in his era owed much to a less competitive media landscape. His 17 million nightly viewers faced no cable, streaming, or social media distractions, unlike today’s fragmented late-night audience.

I don’t doubt this hard-core fans will enjoy Carson the Magnificent. Others may find it lacking in detail and overstuffed with praise. Those people will need to go elsewhere to get the more balanced portrait they are seeking. 

Pat Rocchi is a versatile entertainer and writer. Currently a stand-up comic, emcee, and overall funnyman, he uses his voice and his way with words in many additional ways. Learn more about Pat at his Website (www.patrocchi.com), and well as his presence on social media (https://www.facebook.com/patrocchicommunicates/; https://www.instagram.com/patrocchi.0612/; and https://www.linkedin.com/in/patrocchi/).