This is Fresh Air.
I'm TV critic David Bianculli.
Last night, Stephen Colbert said goodbye to his CBS series, The Late Show, a show he's hosted since 2015 and which will not continue without him.
But in getting to that job, Stephen Colbert has compiled a fairly unusual career path, as both a writer and performer of comedy.
Stephen Colbert loved both from the start, especially comic improv.
He started out as Steve Carell's understudy for the touring company of Chicago's Second City and teamed with him on some of his early short-lived TV work, most infamously on ABC's The Dana Carvey Show in 1996.
That outrageous comedy series included animated shorts starring a pair of superheroes called the Ambiguously Gay Duo.
Colbert co-wrote those cartoons and provided the voice of Ace, one of the costumed crime fighters.
The voice of his sidekick, Gary, was provided by Steve Carell.
After the Dana Carvey show was canceled, the ambiguously gay duo was picked up by Saturday Night Live.
Look both ways before crossing the street.
And always hold hands with your buddy.
The buddy system should be used in all potentially unsafe situations like swimming, bike riding and showering.
Colbert joined Comedy Central's The Daily Show in 1997 when it was hosted by Craig Kilbourne.
But Colbert, like the show really blossomed when Jon Stewart became host in 1999 and made the show more political.
Colbert played himself, but in the guise of a conservative correspondent improvising in character from a right-wing point of view.
But Stephen, you're probably being recorded as saying doesn't all this government's fine on its citizens mean losing our basic freedoms?
Of course not.
It means gaining limits on those freedoms, something Uncle Sam likes to call Freedom Plus.
As that character also named, Stephen Colbert.
He reported for Comedy Central from national political conventions in 2000 and 2004 and eventually got his own spinoff series, The Colbert Rapport, which ran from 2005 to 2014.
In the last year of that series, a campaign was launched to get Colbert thrown off the air, which he discussed on his own show, as always in character.
But folks, I'm not going to lie.
This was close.
We almost lost me.
I'm never going to take me for granted ever again.
But Colbert persevered and found an even more powerful platform.
In 2015, he was selected for the late show job when Letterman retired and dropped his conservative persona to host this CBS network show as himself.
The next year, in 2016, he hosted a live election night cable special on Showtime subtitled Democracy's Series Finale.
It was planned and written with the expectation that Hillary Clinton would defeat Donald Trump in the national election.
But as the evening wore on, even though the race had yet to be called, Colbert reacted in real time to the surprising voting trends.
I think we can agree that this has been an absolutely exhausting, bruising election for everyone.
That's right.
And it has come to an ending that I did not imagine.
We all now feel the way Rudy Giuliani looks.
Seeing this election...
Seeing this election, you know, people all around the world.
I mean, she's going off to Portugal.
Everybody's saying, has America lost its mind?
And the answer is evidently back off, buddy.
We got 300 million guns and we're kind of stressed right now.
By every metric.
I mean...
We are more divided than ever as a nation.
After 11 years as host, Stephen Colbert closed shop on The Late Show this week cleverly and memorably.
On Wednesday's show, for example, he finally answered his own Colbert questionnaire, with different celebrities coming on stage to pose each question.
Even when finally shining the spotlight on himself, he found a way to include and engage others.
And Bruce Springsteen closed that night's show by singing Streets of Minneapolis using his voice and protesting to the end, just as Stephen Colbert has.
Terry Gross has interviewed and been interviewed by Stephen Colbert several times over the years.
To honor his reign on The Late Show, we're revisiting their conversation from November 2016, which took place just before his live Showtime special.
At that time, he had been hosting The Late Show for about a year.
They began with an excerpt of the opening monologue from the night before.
And it's been a very good week for Donald Trump.
His poll numbers are up, Hillary's email scandal is relevant again and he just got his second newspaper endorsement.
Is it the Journal?
Is it the Post?
No.
It's the crusader, the political voice of white Christian America.
Yes, Donald Trump has been endorsed by the Ku Klux Klan newspaper.
We finally answer the question, what's white and white and white all over?
And I don't know about you.
I don't know about you, But when I first heard this, I was like what took you so long?
Was the Klan on the fence?
I don't know.
Maybe Jill Stein.
Maybe Jefferson Davis.
Not sure who we're going to endorse this time.
Stephen Colbert, welcome back to Fresh Air and congratulations on your new show.
Not so new, but it's the first time I've spoken to you since you've been doing Late Night.
Thanks for having me back.
I'm really happy to talk to you.
Yeah, well, I'm thrilled.
So I want to play another clip from The Late Show.
This is from October 28th.
And this was after Megyn Kelly and Newt Gingrich had the big dust up on her show because he accused her of being fascinated with sex and not caring about public policy after she had asked about allegations of Donald Trump's sexual predatory behavior.
And she responded by saying that she's fascinated by the protection of women.
So, again, this is about him accusing her of not caring about public policy.
And here's what you had to say.
But the thing is, uh, Megyn Kellyphile isn't talking about fun time bedroom whoopie making.
She's talking about assault.
Oh, wait, unless Newt doesn't know the difference, maybe no one gave him the talk.
Hold on, let's do this.
Newt?
Sweetheart?
You're growing up so fast.
In fact, you're 73.
Your body's changing.
You've probably noticed some strange new hair growing on your earlobes.
It's perfectly natural.
You're old enough to finally learn about the birds and the bees and the consent.
You see, when a man has special feelings for a woman and he wants to give her a special hug, he asks her a special question.
You up?
But grabbing a lady because you're a TV star is not sex.
It's assault.
And fun fact, assault is a matter of public policy because it's illegal, even if you use Tic Tacs.
I hope that clears things up, buddy.
I would explain to you what sex is, but then I'd have to picture you doing it.
Stephen Colbert, that's really hilarious.
Can you take us a little bit through the process of coming up with that sketch?
In the morning pitch meeting, someone said, did you hear what Newt did last night?
And I said, no, what was it?
And they told me the they told me what he did.
Oh, my gosh.
What an interesting emotional moment for him and for her.
And you saw Megyn Kelly in the video.
You see Megyn Kelly sort of.
Really throw up her armor and go, all right, well, this is how you're going to behave.
It turned from what could have been an interview with ease to one where she was deeply armored and shot a barb at him about being
I'll let you deal with your – I'll let you go so you can deal with your anger issues.
And it became an emotional moment rather than an informational moment.
And I really – that was very interesting to me.
So, in addition to trying to be funny and entertain your audience, do you feel like you're also trying to make an argument with your comedy?
That look, look at this election.
Look at how important it is.
Here's how I feel about the candidates.
I don't think I've been subtle about how I feel about Donald Trump.
So it's less of an argument and more of a look at the flaming carcass shambling toward us.
And we should probably not touch that thing.
Look, it's rabid.
Don't touch it.
But that's not the same thing as making an argument for – against him or for Hillary Clinton, because I don't think we've made an argument for Hillary Clinton.
I think people's hesitancy about Hillary Clinton is completely reasonable.
We just happen to be in extraordinary circumstances.
Stephen Colbert speaking to Terry Gross in 2016.
More after a break.
This is Fresh Air.
Let's get back to Terry's 2016 interview with Stephen Colbert, who just ended his reign as host of his long-running late-night CBS talk show.
I don't know, didn't really want to model the behavior of punditry anymore, because I thought it was a limiting on a certain level that I wanted to be able to do more than that character.
And I also didn't.
I guess the word would be I didn't respect my model anymore.
Wait, what do you mean by that?
Well, people always said it was Bill, but it's punditry in general, the sense of certainty, regardless of the facts, that was embodied in the idea of truthiness.
That was the thesis statement for the entire show that how you feel is more important than what the facts are, and that the truth that you feel is correct is more important than anything that the facts could support, which we expressed in a very concise way on the show.
We embodied it satirically, though it's not really a new idea.
And as you can see, it's been amplified in interesting ways since we went off the air.
But I didn't just want to play the game anymore.
That was a single thesis statement that we tried to remind ourselves of every day.
I would – when in doubt, I would just sort of recite those mantras to myself about what is truthiness.
And I'm looking out for you.
And because I'm looking out for you, I'm also looking over your shoulder, because I've got your back.
And I have a special relationship with the audience that is – and it's only us.
We're the only ones who get it.
And if you agree with me, I love you and please love you because I agree with you.
And all those emotional –
I'd have to remind myself every day to stay in character.
And I'd remind myself of them right before I went on stage every night, because I thought well, you've come this far.
Why blow it now?
And toward the end of the show I started to think that my love of that game was diminishing to the point that I might actually blow the entire – I might actually drop the entire China set one day, because I just couldn't take playing that character anymore.
Like accidentally drop it?
Yeah, I guess so.
I began to feel like I was stumbling downhill with an armful of bottles and that I couldn't actually keep up the discipline, because it took discipline to remind myself every day to be the character.
Don't be yourself.
And I began to wonder, well, what would it be like to be me?
And and and so I decided a couple of years before the show ended that I was going to end the show.
And I it was it was not because I didn't like it anymore.
I still liked it, but I just thought like I'm not sure if I can actually keep this up without hurting someone.
Hurting someone.
Yeah.
Yeah.
What do you mean?
I don't know.
It's a feeling.
I thought maybe I would make some big mistake with the character because he would say terrible things.
And I got away with some of the terrible things he would say or do, because it was all filtered through his mask.
But if I didn't maintain the mask, it would just be me being terrible.
And and that's and he would say hateful things or hurtful things.
And I thought well, if I, if I don't play this tightly, if I don't, if I don't, if I don't, if I don't hit the bell just right all the time?
Not that it was a perfect performance.
What I mean is if I didn't. maintain this discipline, and I felt my discipline slipping.
If I didn't maintain that discipline, I would simply slide into being like the thing that I was mocking.
At what point did you know that you would be hosting the late show?
You'd made the decision to stop the Colbert Report before you knew, right?
It fell out of the sky.
It was absolutely no part of my plans when I decided to end the Colbert Report.
That happened literally years later.
It was a complete surprise to me.
It hadn't been an ambition of mine.
And I've just been an enormous fan of Dave.
And so I had great respect for what he had built.
But when they called and said, OK, how about you?
I was shocked.
So in that period, when you knew you were ending the Colbert Report and you didn't know what you were going to do next, what were you thinking about?
Your future?
Oh, I don't know.
Go be an actor, I guess.
Oh, yeah?
Yeah, because I'm an actor.
And that's how I started and that's what I was doing for 10 years.
I was acting.
Right, right.
But so when you were offered late night, did you think, hmm, but I really wanted to act.
I don't know if I want to be doing this.
Well, yeah.
I mean, you have to give that some thought.
But I also knew that if someone wants to hire me, or if I can get my own production company together or create my own project, you can act anytime you want.
This opportunity will never come again.
And I love a live audience and I love the grind of every day and I love the people I work with.
And it gave me all the things that I loved and that was not a hard decision once I looked at –
That I could leave the thing that I didn't want to do anymore and still keep all the aspects of it.
That gave me deep satisfaction every day.
I mean the release, the privilege it is to do a show about what just happened in the last 24 hours, or the last hour, or the last half hour, given the speed of the news cycle right now, in front of a live studio audience which feels so happy to be there with people that you love working with, who are all pulling on the same rope, is a drug.
And as hard as it is, I get that great release at the end of the day to being in front of the audience.
And to know that I can continue that with my friends was –
The greatest draw.
And I also couldn't think of anything after the Colbert Report that would seem like a promotion other than taking over for Dave.
And so I said, what a fool I would be to not – to accept this incredible –
Because I can act till the day I die if I want to, but I can only do this now.
When you started doing The Late Show as opposed to The Colbert Report and you were able to drop The Colbert Report persona.
Did you know what your authentic voice was going to be?
You know, what your voice is like the actual Stephen Colbert was going to be?
Because you still have to have like a bit of a persona as an entertainer on stage.
I don't think so.
I knew that it would be a little bit of a public discovery.
It's somebody else's joke, but life is like learning to play the violin in public.
You don't know what you're doing until you do it.
And I knew that there'd be a learning curve that had to happen in public.
I would say that what I didn't anticipate was how much I would overcorrect for not doing the character.
What do you mean?
I think – well, because I was not talking about –
I wasn't doing a monologue on the day's events when we first started.
I mean I would still talk about what was happening but it wasn't highly focused.
It did not have intention and I wasn't speaking all that honestly, because I was attempting to do something different than I had done before.
And the overcorrect I would say is that not realizing that through the character – I was actually speaking very honestly and you were hearing my voice a lot of the time.
I felt that way as a viewer.
Yeah, there's a confessional aspect to wearing a mask.
The same reason why it's easier to confess behind a screen to a priest than face-to-face.
And so by – the character was a 10-year confession of, perhaps of indulging ego and appetite through the person of this character.
Then you go on stage as yourself and you're responsible for everything you say and there's a natural – I think there's a natural inclination to pull your punch.
Because you have to be responsible for what you're saying.
You cannot hide behind the mask.
And also that if you talk about politics all the time, well, isn't that what that other guy did?
Why would I – or talk about the news all the time.
Isn't that what – then how am I changing in any way?
And it took me –
Oh, gosh.
I would say it took me almost half a year to realize that those two aren't mutually exclusive, that you can have a highly opinionated, highly topical show as yourself and not essentially – fall back into the basket of the Colbert report.
And now I have no qualms about being sharp and satirical and highly opinionated and saying whatever's on my mind as quickly as I can and not worrying about that I'm playing the same game.
I know I'm not playing the same game, but it took me a little while to realize that the character was not in danger of reemerging.
Yeah, I was really glad when you added more political satire at the top of the show.
Yeah, me too.
It's much more enjoyable and the audience enjoys it.
And it's more honest, actually, because it's what I consume all day.
So you're doing comedy now, not behind the anchor desk, though sometimes you're doing a monologue behind the anchor desk, but you're often doing it.
I sit down there.
If it requires graphics and if it requires a sustained argument, I do it behind the desk.
But sometimes you're doing it standing up.
Most of the time.
So what have you had to learn in terms of like, walking out and standing in front of the microphone figuring out what to do with your hands?
That was easy.
That part was really fast.
Right.
But to enjoy taking my time with it, that's the thing.
And seeing the smiles on the people in the front row unlocked the door for me and allowed me to really enjoy it.
You've got to sincerely enjoy what you're doing or else the audience, I think, can sniff it.
And it took me a few months to really enjoy standing there.
And as you can see, show first started, we did like three-minute opening monologues.
Now we do 10-minute opening monologues because I don't want it to end.
I want to stay there on stage with them.
It seems to me one of the hard parts of doing an opening monologue is what to do when the audience is laughing.
What to do when the audience is laughing?
Yeah.
Like, do you say something?
Do you repeat the punchline?
Do you just keep your hands in your pockets?
Do you hide your erection?
Yeah.
What do you do?
What do I do while the audience is laughing?
That is the hardest part of the job.
What will I do while the audience is laughing?
It's such a challenge, you know.
How was the show last night?
It was so hard.
Why?
The audience laughed so much, I didn't know what to do with myself.
No, but really, you've got to do something.
What do you do?
Levitate.
Nail your feet to the floor because you'll just fly up into the rafters.
What does he do?
You lean into it like it's a wind.
It's the greatest feeling in the world.
What do you do?
That's the easiest part of the job.
You smile and you're happy that they're happy.
That's it.
And then you're like, you know what the biggest challenge is?
What?
It's where do you jump back in to get to the next joke?
Right, okay.
How do you ride that energy to the next joke?
How then can I...
Use what they've just given me to give them a better rhythm, a better joke the next time around.
How can I slide down the front face of their wave to give them better energy back?
It's like how can I make this a reciprocal relationship?
How can I make this moment feel as good for them as it's feeling for me right now?
What can I give back to them?
And because comedy is about rhythm it's like where you jump in on their laughter is really maybe the only decision you're making.
And if you're really feeling it, it's not a decision at all.
So there's nothing to worry about while the audience is laughing.
You have to wait for the right amount of decay of laughter before you come back in.
Exactly.
And if this wasn't radio, I would graph it for you.
You probably would.
So you used to come in and make the nightly stage entrance doing a kick dance with your band leader, John Batiste.
It was very manic.
You've taken that down a notch and you're not doing the kick dance anymore.
Nope.
Can you talk about changing that?
Yeah.
When the show first started, I thought, well, it's a giant space.
It's a Broadway stage.
What kind of energy, what level of energy, do I need to fill this space that is then sort of captured by the camera?
And because I used to very much do a show that was for the camera that the audience got to witness.
I feel like now I'm doing a show for the room that the cameras witness.
Yeah.
And that's – That's a really big difference.
Yeah.
Yeah.
And you really feel it when you're doing it.
And I my my first choice was, well, air on the side of energy.
And then at a certain point, I realized, well, that actually doesn't translate over the camera.
And the audience is just and the audience is just as energetic whether I do that or not.
And so I started eliminating things and said, what what's left?
What's left is you walking on stage and doing jokes.
And then – and so it was just erring on the side of giving the audience more, giving more energy, knowing I had enough energy for that room.
What you learn eventually – and this is something I knew sort of – intellectually, but I'd forgotten instinctually, is that you actually don't need high energy to fill a large space.
You need your own sense of presence and focus.
You can bend an entire room by bending a paperclip if you've got the focus of the room.
And to accept that the audience That you are their focus.
You don't need to do high kicks.
You just need to be there, present for them, and then you fill the entire room.
Is it a relief for you to be doing interviews as yourself as opposed to in character.
Having to try to figure out what your character's take on that person would be.
They're very different.
That's not a relief.
I enjoy knowing something about their subject.
I'll tell you that.
You know, I can have Neil Tyson on and know something about interplanetary exploration.
No, my character was a straw man.
For whatever – for whoever was on.
I was a mass of ignorances.
And for you to knock down should you choose to.
I used to be alarmed that people would not knock them down.
Like someone would come on and they –
They would call into question the ascendancy of whatever particular figure of the religious right.
And I would say, well, you know, all the founding fathers were fundamentalist Christians.
And then they wouldn't correct me and I'd go, oh, good Lord.
What's going to happen now?
Now I've miseducated America again.
I won.
I don't want to win.
You know, I didn't always want to win, but my character always wanted to win.
The biggest difference is that I'm not there to win against my guest.
And, you know, I I am not I'm letting them talk for more than seven seconds at a time where I was.
I was living by the old Joe Scarborough rule on the old show, which is, if your guest talks for more than seven seconds at a time, you've lost control of your show.
And I don't do that anymore.
I'm so happy to hear the stories that they have to tell.
Now, the danger there, when I first started the show, is that then you bring – you have to bring some opinion to the table.
Again, it was like a matter of overcorrection when the show first started.
I guess I'll have no punch.
And there's a great release.
There's a great – gift of exhaustion that comes on you from doing a show like this over and over and over again, that you actually lose all those second thoughts and then you're allowed to sort of be yourself with your guests.
Finally And again, about six months into the show, I went okay, I don't have any energy left to overthink this.
I just have to do what instinctually feels good to me.
And every aspect of the show got better and got easier and became more like me, because I didn't have time to think about it.
I didn't have the energy to think about it anymore.
I'll tell you who actually gave me kind of a hint about that is that one of my dear friends is Steve Higgins, who's Fallon's announcer.
And sort of sidekick.
And I've known him for many years and he's a lovely guy.
And he said, so how's the schedule going?
I said, oh, we're going to start doing two on Thursdays.
And he goes, oh, thank God.
You're going to love it.
I said, why?
It's going to kill me, right?
And he goes, no, that second show you do on Thursday is how you should do the show every week.
Because you'll be too tired to worry about whether you're making the right choice.
And he's absolutely right.
And now that informs everything I do.
That's really interesting.
Without the tired.
I don't have to be tired.
But I don't worry about the choices.
I just do what feels good.
So one more question.
I have taken up a lot of your time this morning.
Whatever you want.
No, but that's part of my question.
We're recording this in the morning.
You have a lot of work to do before your show airs.
It's 1121 recording time.
Yes.
Where I am.
So what do you have to do to compensate for the fact that you were generous enough to give us this interview?
Breathe deeply and trust my staff.
And I am capable of both.
And then I'm ready for whatever the fresh wave of stress is.
Because you've got to kind of like the stress too.
I don't know how to attach a positive feeling to stress and pressure, but there is one.
There's a bulletproof feeling.
That comes over you.
And it's really a pleasant one.
And you kind of have to like that.
But to do one of these jobs, you've got to kind of learn to love the flaming toboggan ride of it.
And you've got to like it because everybody else is in the toboggan with you.
You're doing it together.
That's the joy.
Everybody's doing it together.
At the end of it, we went, hey!
We survived.
Pretty good show.
Let's do it again tomorrow.
And that's it.
It's the movement forward because it never stops.
You got to love the downhill hurdle.
There's no finish line.
You got to just love missing all those trees that you could have hit today.
Stephen, I absolutely love talking with you.
I'm so glad you came back to our show, and I'm so glad you're back on TV.
It is a pleasure talking to you Terry, because when I found out I'd be talking to you again, I thought oh, I'm talking to Terry.
Maybe the show means something.
I love the show.
I'm so glad you're doing it.
Stephen Colbert speaking to Terry Gross in 2016.
The last episode of The Late Show with Stephen Colbert was televised last night on CBS.
After a break, we remember Barney Frank, the former Democratic congressman from Massachusetts.
He died Tuesday at age 86.
This is Fresh Air.
Barney Frank, the former Democratic congressman from Massachusetts, was known for his quick wit, his championing of gay rights even before he came out himself, and for authoring one of the most significant pieces of legislation regarding financial regulation.
He died Tuesday.
He was 86.
He was described in a New York Times obituary this way.
A Harvard-trained lawyer, Mr Frank, bristled with intellectual firepower, acidic turns of phrase and a zest for verbal combat.
Frank was elected to Congress in 1980 after serving eight years in the Massachusetts legislature.
He came out in 1987 and in 2012 became the first member of Congress to enter into a same-sex marriage.
He was the powerful chairman of the House Financial Services Committee.
In 2010, in response to the housing crisis of 2007 and the global financial crisis of 2008, he sponsored the Dodd-Frank Wall Street Reform and Consumer Protection Act with Senator Christopher Dodd of Connecticut.
Barney Frank spoke with Terry Gross in 2015.
At the time, he had written his memoir.
He described the response in the legislature when he advocated for gay rights.
Well, it really even began in 1973, and I've noted this.
I began lobbying for the gay rights bill.
As we then called it, there was just the one name.
And people would be very open and say, hey, pal, are you kidding?
I'm not going to have some d*** in my store.
So, yeah, it was unrestrained.
And then in 1981...
The first issue I dealt with in Congress.
The District of Columbia had repealed its criminal law against sodomy against people of the same sex having voluntary sex with each other.
And at that time there was a rule that either House of Congress could pass a law and cancel anything in the criminal area that the District of Columbia did.
And the House passed that, canceling it by a three-to-one margin.
Even many Democrats voted against it.
I got barely a majority of the Democrats.
And when I went around lobbying, it was, again, oh, these people are disgusting.
Are you kidding, pal?
What'd they do?
Oh, that turns my stomach.
I can't allow that to happen.
So you couldn't really say, did you know I'm gay because you weren't out yet?
What would you say in response to that?
Look, when you're in a legislative body, you try to win the argument on the easiest grounds to win the argument.
Obviously, I disagreed with the moral disapproval, but it was unnecessary for me to win that one.
It's almost like arguing in court.
You focus on what you can win.
And I would say to them Well, nobody's asking you to like it or not like it, or approve it or not approve it.
The only question is don't prevent other people.
It doesn't hurt you.
And that was the argument.
And by the way that evolved into the argument with which I think we were successful in same-sex marriage.
You begin by saying nobody's asking you to say this is moral.
Nobody's asking you to give up whatever view you have that this is a bad thing or the way that we progressed, that
At this point, all we're asking you to do is leave people alone.
And even if people are doing something that you disapprove of, if it has no impact on you whatsoever, if it has no negative impact on anybody else, it's simply what these two people are doing.
Please don't mistreat them because of it.
And that's, as I said, basically the way we started with same sex marriage as well.
But then of course there was the argument no, but if gay people get married, that hurts the institution of marriage.
That hurts straight people who are married.
You're absolutely right.
And by the way, I think that's one of the reasons we ultimately win.
And your question is really quite good in getting at that.
By the time the Defense of Maradag came up, which is now 1995-96, we had made some progress.
So, Just as you correctly pointed out, by 1981 even people who had racist feelings didn't feel comfortable and articulated them.
By the 90s it was not considered respectable to talk about fks and to be very abusive about people.
You could be disapproving, but you had to moderate it.
So the real argument against our being able to marry was, as I said look, there were people who didn't like one of us.
And the notion of two of us getting together and being happy was geometrically worse.
But they couldn't come out and say that.
It was not at that time acceptable, respectable to say hey, we don't like those people and we don't want them hanging out with each other and being happy.
So they came up with this notion, and that's why it was called the Defense of Marriage Act.
To be intellectually honest, it should have been.
We don't want those people to be able to get together act.
But they had to come up with supposed negative social consequences.
And one of the reasons that we were able to win this battle was they made the mistake, because once Massachusetts broke the law jam and started same-sex marriage, it became undeniably clear that there were no adverse consequences.
So they had built their arguments on a false premise.
But you correctly said, oh, it's the institution of marriage.
In a debate on the Defense of Marriage Act, I got on the floor and said I want to understand— how does the fact that I love another man hurt your marriage?
What about my relations, voluntary relations with another guy, in any way jeopardizes your marriage?
And I said I'll yield to any member of the House who wants to explain to me how what I would do would hurt your marriage.
And one guy got up, Steve Rogers from Oklahoma, and he said, well, I'll tell the gentleman this.
No, it doesn't hurt my marriage.
It doesn't hurt the marriage of other people here.
But it hurts the institution of marriage.
And my response was, well, it doesn't hurt any individual marriages.
But despite that, it somehow hurts the institution of marriage.
That is an argument that ought to be made by someone in an institution.
Do you dream these lines up in advance?
Not often.
They kind of come to me.
I'm lucky that way.
There are some things I'm not very good at.
But I like humor.
And some of them.
The best humor is offered up to you by the stupidity of your opponents.
You kind of make fun of your own Jersey accent in the book.
Did you ever try to lose it?
Did you ever think well, if I'm going to be in public office, I have to speak more kind of standard American dialect?
I didn't try to—my mother, a wonderful woman who became a great advocate later in her life, did enroll me in elocution classes when I was— seven or eight.
But it was a well-intended gesture, but it didn't work.
No, in fact, what I learned how to do was it's kind of a political judo.
I think I was able to make an asset out of some of my defects.
For example, I have a hard time dressing well.
Jim God bless him, worked very hard to keep me in good shape.
But in my first campaign, somebody wrote an article and said I was wearing an ill-fitting suit.
And I said, no, that's unfair.
It was a well-fitting suit.
It just—I wasn't the person it fit.
And as a state representative.
Somebody took a picture of me in which I looked a little disheveled and I put it up, said Real Act, Frank.
Neatness isn't everything.
So the same with my voice.
You know, it—
You become kind of – I think there is a certain blandness that politicians have that does not work to your favor.
So if you can be somewhat distinctive in ways that are not offensive, I think that's helpful.
Barney Frank, thank you so much for talking with us.
Thank you.
I really enjoyed this.
We had some good questions there.
Barney Frank speaking to Terry Gross in 2015.
His memoir, which he had just published, was titled Frank A Life in Politics, from the Great Society to Same-Sex Marriage.
The Democratic congressman from Massachusetts died Tuesday at age 86.
Coming up, critic-at-large John Powers reviews the Apple TV series Widow's Bay.
This is Fresh Air.
In the horror comedy Widow's Bay, now showing on Apple TV, Matthew Rhys plays a mayor who wants to turn his New England island into a popular tourist destination.
There's just one problem.
The island may be a source of evil.
Our critic at large, John Powers, says the series offers the funny, frightening delights of movies from an earlier era.
When people ask me to name the scariest movie I ever saw...
I always tell them Abbott and Costello meet Frankenstein, a 1948 romp I saw on TV as a kid.
It's a slightly embarrassing answer, but in recent days I've had two other people tell me the same thing.
One a 30-year-old woman, the other an 82-year-old man.
We all agreed that what makes it so terrifying is that you think you're safely watching a dumb comedy.
Then, boo, you're actually in a horror movie.
Juggling laughter and fright is the strategy of Widow's Bay, a new Apple TV series that has rolled out about half of its ten episodes.
Created by Katie Dippold, who wrote the Ghostbusters remake and countless episodes of Parks and Recreation, this amusing, sometimes nerve-wracking show has a soothingly retro feel.
Looking back to horror stories of the 70s and 80s, it's like a Stranger Things intended for grown-ups.
Matthew Rhys stars as Tom Loftus, a widower who's the mayor of Widow's Bay, a small cozy-seeming island off the New England coast.
He's got the kind of quirky, exasperating staff you find in TV comedies.
Most importantly, his lonely, awkward number two, Patricia.
That's wonderful Cato Flynn, who hits him with the grieved zingers.
It's Tom's dream to turn this sleepy island into another Martha's Vineyard, crawling with tourists who drink cappuccino.
Read the New York Times and make the place happening.
But the townsfolk have their doubts about his plans, partly because they don't like ponying up for espresso machines, partly because Tom can't even seem to manage his teenage son, who smokes weed and gets into trouble.
These superstitious locals also know something Tom works hard to deny.
Widow's Bay is, um, cursed.
It has a centuries-long history of plagues, ruinous typhoons, killer clowns— talk about mixing comedy and horror— not to mention all manner of supernatural visitations.
Every few years, the island goes violently crazy.
Here Tom is in the local historical society with a travel writer researching a piece on Widow's Bay.
Tom tries to poo-poo talk of the island's dark side.
I was talking to the guy on the ferry, and he said something odd.
What was that?
He said bad things happen here.
You know...
Arthur, there is something about these seafaring towns.
The superstitions, their tall tales.
Maybe it's that stories help pass a long day at sea.
I don't know, but I find it charming myself.
Was there cannibalism?
No.
Well, the article, Maya, you...
Forced inside the church, they immediately turned to cannibalism.
I don't think that's right.
I mean, it's on a framed article inside the Historical Society.
Yeah.
You know, these stories get so exaggerated over time.
I mean, look, was there a deadly storm in 1786?
Yes.
Did a group of people get trapped inside a church?
Apparently so.
Did they immediately turn to cannibalism?
No, that took four days.
Despite this, the travel writer does a glowing newspaper article on Widows Bay.
But just when the tourists start coming, bad things start to happen.
Devouring mists roll in, church bells inexplicably toll, people catch sight of spectral figures.
Tom finds himself badgered by a grizzled boat captain named Wick, played by the always great Stephen Root, who tells him to raise an alarm and stop the ferry from bringing more visitors.
But like the mayor in Jaws, who won't close the beach despite the shark attacks, Tom refuses.
A mistake.
Soon Tom and Patricia and Wick are fighting to save the lives of the islanders and their visitors.
An effort that requires, as ever, confronting what's buried in the past.
Now the benchmark for TV comedy horror is David Lynch's Twin Peaks, whose interlacing of goofiness and disturbing drama made it one of the most influential shows in television history.
Widow's Bay is much lighter, where Lynch explored our scariest psychic merc.
Dippold taps into our pop culture past.
We keep bumping into images and ideas that reference movies like Jaws Halloween, The Fog and The Wicker Man, among others.
Not to mention the work of Stephen King, whose titles appear prominently in the bookmobile.
Patricia Drives Around Town.
That said, Widow's Bay gives you the pleasures you find in a handsomely tooled series with top-notch talent.
From directors like Hiro Murai, who's best known for Atlanta, to deft old character actors like Dale Dickey and Kay Callan.
All three leads are terrific, with O'Flynn teasing out the heroism in the forlorn Patricia and Root capturing the pathos beneath his driven exasperation.
As for Rhys, who specializes in uncomfortable heroes, he's rarely been this good.
His beleaguered Tom is a man whose face always starts off looking cocky, then melts into anxiety.
Like nearly all series these days, Widow's Bay doesn't truly end.
DePold leaves doors open for a second season, which I would cheerfully watch.
But she does build to a climax filled with emotion and with suspense that isn't merely suspenseful.
The story confronts Tom and us with a moral conundrum that philosophers call the trolley problem.
For all its comedy, Widow's Bay winds up asking a thorny question.
Just how far would you go and who would you sacrifice to save those around you from harm?
John Powers reviewed the new Apple TV series, Widow's Bay.
On Monday's show for Memorial Day, some music and conversation with Billie Eilish and Phineas O'Connell.
There's a new concert film titled Hit Me Hard and Soft The Tour, which was co-directed by Eilish and James Cameron.
Hope you can join us.
You can subscribe to our YouTube channel at youtube.com slash thisisfreshair.
We're rolling out new videos with in-studio guests, behind-the-scenes shorts and iconic interviews from the archive.
Fresh Air's executive producer is Sam Brigger.
Our senior producer today is Roberta Shorrock.
Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham, with additional engineering support by Joyce Lieberman, Julian Hertzfeld and Charlie Kyer.
For Terry Gross and Tanya Mosley, I'm David Bianculli.
