JAMES CORDEN COVER STORY FOR HIGH LIFE

There is a chubby Englishman on Stage 56 at CBS Television City who clearly craves attention. He dances about, begs for ‘standing O’s’ and tells the audience, in the most British way possible, ‘You’re going to be on telly!’ He is the human equivalent of the ‘Applause’ sign that glows above our heads. His key message of what works best for TV? ‘In the real world, what you hear might be something you might find mildly amusing. Tonight? It’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard.’

This man is not James Corden. By the time the host of The Late Late Show appears, Corden’s British warm-up act Joby Harte has had the audience applauding for 15 minutes. Tonight, Corden is wearing a wig and a beanie reminiscent of Alanis Morissette in her 1995 Ironic video. He performs a duet with Morissette, updating her track with contemporary lyrics, including, ‘There’s free office cake, on the first day of your diet / It’s like they announce a new iPhone, the day after you buy it.’ 

If you aren’t one of seven million people who have seen the video online, towards the end of the track, Corden starts singing unintelligibly. Morissette looks across and says, ‘We’re good, James... it’s finished?’ He nudges her microphone out of reach. That’s the mark of a performer who knows precisely how to make an audience laugh even harder. 

Corden has come a long way since he was first announced as the host of The Late Late Show in September 2014. Although he impressed CBS bigwigs, Corden’s appointment remained controversial. British comics mocked his move to the US (Stewart Lee deadpanned ‘Our loss is America’s loss’), chat show Übermensch David Letterman referred to Corden as ‘the tubby kid’ while Americans responded with utter bewilderment. ‘The initial reaction was, “Who the blazes is this guy?”’ Bill Carter, the author of The War For Late Night, tells me. ‘How could CBS find somebody that virtually nobody in America had ever heard of? Are you telling me they still could not find a woman?’ Corden knew he had to prove the sceptics wrong. He told the Hollywood Reporter, ‘If the show is pulled off the air, it’s not going to be because we didn’t try things.’ 

Any doubts were dismissed after Corden’s knockout first episode in March 2015 when 1.66 million viewers watched and one segment went viral (Tom Hanks re-created his filmography in seven minutes for a feature called ‘Role Call’). One person who was not surprised was a friend of Corden’s since his days on the stage. ‘How can anyone not love James?’ Anna Wintour, editor-in-chief of American Vogue, tells me. ‘All he wants is to be your friend, and he wants everyone to have a good time. He is an extremely positive, intelligent and highly amusing star!’ 

For someone who grew up in High Wycombe, Corden has a remarkable understanding of how significant late-night TV shows are to American life. They determine water-cooler chat across the US, revealing the biggest albums, films and political talking points. In Britain, the cumulative effect would be akin to a daily edition of Newsnight, hosted by Chris Evans, with musical guests orchestrated by Jools Holland and a Hollywood guest list masterminded by Graham Norton. 

The current roster of late-night shows begin every weeknight starting at 11pm (Trevor Noah, Conan O’Brien, John Oliver), a second wave around 11.30pm (Stephen Colbert, Jimmy Fallon, Jimmy Kimmel) and then the final shift at 12.30am (James Corden and Seth Meyers). Each has a monologue, a live studio audience, a house band, a musical act and celebrity guests. As Kimmel told Rolling Stone: ‘If you want to do a talk show on network television, you’re probably going to wind up having a desk and a band, wearing a suit and having a sidekick. Audiences want to feel comfortable.’

Challenging audience expectations is the key to late-night success – which is why Corden has tinkered with this template. His monologue is on one topic, rather than the traditional collection of writer’s room zingers. Much like Graham Norton’s show, guests share a sofa and interact. The in-house band is not led by a schmuck in a tux, but by Reggie Watts, the extravagantly afroed improviser who described his role as ‘to contribute as many dumb, weird ideas as possible’. 

Corden has a smaller team than many of his late-night rivals – Jimmy Fallon has 17 staff writers and a separate team for his monologue – but it’s an impressive collection of transatlantic talent. Producer Ben Winston co-produced the Brit Awards and masterminded the ITV documentary This Is Justin Bieber, as well as the One Direction film, This Is Us. Corden’s celebrity booker is Sheila Rogers, who worked on Letterman for more than 20 years. His team includes veterans of The Tonight Show and web-savvy favourites like Tosh.0.

All of these elements mean that Corden’s show feels very different: which can only be a good thing, given the fierce competition. Overnight audience figures are also now not the only metric that such shows are judged on. ‘Late-night is as much about relevancy,’ Winston explains. ‘You want people to be talking about what you did the next day.’ 

As much as the talents of his team, Corden’s success also comes down to his personality. At 37, he’s young enough to have an enthusiastic conversation with Little Mix but old enough to know which routine will best suit 89-year old Mel Brooks. Corden is not too camp, nor too arch, nor too mean, nor too lewd: ‘joyful’ is the word he uses most frequently to describe the atmosphere he wants to create. His show goes out in middle of the night but is resolutely safe for work. He puts celebrities at ease - two-time guest Gordon Ramsay describes him as ‘a breath of fresh air for the US talk show market,’ praising ‘his warmth, generosity and how he makes all the guests feel comfortable’. Corden’s watched enough Alan Partridge and Larry Sanders to know the pitfalls of chat shows on both sides of the Atlantic. He also possesses a British comedic sensibility. He’s not referencing Leno vs Letterman but rather Chris Evans on TFI Friday or Johnny Vaughan on The Big Breakfast. That’s not to say that he’s imported everything from 90s terrestrial UK TV, but watching Corden’s show, the hallmarks are clear. At its best, The Late Late Show has the energy of a pre-clean living Chris Evans coupled with that roguish moment where Johnny Vaughn said what we were all thinking.

Sitting backstage, having changed from a Burberry suit into a well-worn sweatshirt, Corden is relentlessly upbeat. ‘Let’s be honest, I’m trying to keep people awake at home! You want people to say, “OK, I’m enjoying this guy’s company. I’m not going to turn off.”’ 

One of Corden’s biggest successes has helped to define the show: ‘Carpool Karaoke’, where he sings along to an artist’s hits while in transit with the singer themselves. Although some viral success has come about because of the personalities involved – get Justin Bieber on camera, the tweens will follow – it’s what Corden does that makes the difference. Getting a viral hit out of One Direction playing ‘Tattoo Roulette’ is one thing. Getting another out of Rod Stewart singing songs older than most Harry Styles fans is something entirely different. 
 
Rather than an attempt to bait BuzzFeed, Corden sees such skits as being part of a long tradition of late-night tomfoolery. ‘If the internet had existed back when Letterman and Steve Martin did ‘Dave and Steve’s Gay Vacation’, it would have gone viral. What’s great now is you can make a show that isn’t confined by a time slot.’ 

Corden is also happy being the butt of his own jokes. You wouldn’t see Bill Maher dressed as Sharon Stone uncrossing her legs for Michael Douglas. He’s also more than capable of being self-deprecating about his physique: in one early sketch he had Arnold Schwarzenegger utter the immortal line, ‘You don’t look like a talk-show host. You look like two!’

Corden creates a persona for himself nightly. ‘Doing this show is an acting job. I’m acting the part of a talk-show host. It’s hard to be funny if you’re feeling self-conscious. You’ve just got to run at it enthusiastically and remember your 13-year-old self. I get as cranky as anybody else some days, but if it all stopped tomorrow, I’d be so angry that I didn’t enjoy it and really go for it.’ Stephen Colbert believes that Corden’s rampant good humour is key to what he has achieved so far: ‘I think he’s been so successful because he’s hilarious and a font of endless good cheer,’ he tells me. ‘Plus that ridiculously broad accent he’s pretending to have, just makes everything sound funny.’ 

Corden’s role is also clearer than many of his predecessors: with Colbert handling the political commentary for CBS on late night, he is there to entertain. Piers Morgan, a fellow Brit whose American experience was far more polarising, feels their situations are very different. ‘I had a great time at CNN, but by making US gun violence a big issue on my show, I polarised public opinion,’ Morgan tells me. ‘James doesn’t have to worry about that kind of problem because he’s not there to lecture Americans on the way they lead their lives, he’s there to make them smile before they go to bed at night. And he’s doing a brilliant job at it.’ 

British audiences are now watching the third act in Corden’s life unfold. The son of a RAF jazz saxophonist and a social worker, his defining moments appear to be loving getting laughs at a christening (aged four), hating being sent to school in a disappointing squirrel costume (aged seven) and despising appearing in Martin Guerre (aged 18). Corden’s big revelation came when he worked with Shane Meadows on Bob Hoskins’ Twenty Four Seven. ‘He was 24 and directing his first feature. Just to see someone grab their career and say, “I’m going to take charge of this.”’ His own breakthrough came when he was cast in Alan Bennett’s 2004 play The History Boys and then in the 2006 film version. Frustrated by the roles that followed (generally playing a ‘bubbly barrister’) from 2007 to 2010 he co-wrote and co-starred in the BAFTA-winning BBC sitcom Gavin & Stacey. 

Although received to huge acclaim, what followed were a few missteps – he complained about only winning two awards at the BAFTAs, a misfiring sketch show and a duff film, Lesbian Vampire Killers(which he didn’t write, produce or direct). He became something of a tabloid fixture thanks to seemingly going out nightly in a blaze of flashbulbs – he never went to university and most of his 2009 seemed like one long freshers’ week. But then the second career wave hit: his new TV dramaThe Wrong Mans was BAFTA-nominated and Corden beat Philip Seymour Hoffman to a Tony for his stage role in One Man, Two Guvnors.

More recently he starred in the box office hit Into The Woods (that grossed $212m worldwide) and played Paul Potts in Britain’s Got Talent biopic One Chance (which made slightly less). In many ways it can be argued that Corden’s CV makes him the perfect candidate for a chat show gig. Such is the sheer volume of programming that a host must be able to cope with endless repetition (his experience of almost 1000 Broadway shows stands him in good stead). The difference is that this time he can actually enjoy the experience.

Corden is loving LA living. He considered doing the show in New York but felt it would be better in California, and moved with his wife Julia and their two children at the start of 2015. ‘I don’t think anyone will lie on their deathbed thinking, “I wish I hadn’t lived in that other country.”’ 

Corden’s only previous LA experience was auditioning for Dinner For Schmucks. Not only did Zach Galifianakis get the part, but Corden remembers confusing Californians by asking, ‘Where’s the centre?’ He’s got his LA geographical bearings second time around. ‘It’s not a city – it’s a collection of disparate towns and once you get your head around that you’re fine.’ Certain moments are pretty much unbeatable. ‘The idea of waking up and saying, “Shall we go to the beach?” And it’s four minutes away. That is fantastic.’ 

The only thing he misses is London’s historic buildings. ‘I wish LA had more architecture. You want to say to someone, “Just build something! Put a fountain somewhere!” That's the thing I'm most surprised that I miss. In London you'll always be rewarded if you look up. And that just doesn't exist here. I'm surprised how much I miss that.”

As for the differences between British and American comedy, Corden doesn’t see much distinction. “I don't see a massive chasm between the two worlds. I feel like if it's good, it travels.’ He does feel however that certain British comics don’t get the respect their American counterparts enjoy. ‘Take a comedian like Michael McIntyre. It's fair to say he's taken a fair amount of criticism from other comedians. And yet I don't see a massive gulf between his act and Jerry Seinfeld's act. It's observational humour, in both instances done brilliantly.’

In LA, Corden’s a huge fan of an unassuming restaurant on Sunset Boulevard called Sushi Park. ‘It's in a strip mall. It's incredible. You don't order: the chef just brings it out and you tell them when you're full.’ Although he hasn’t yet walked from Griffith Observatory to the Hollywood sign, he recently went on a ‘hike’ with his wife in Santa Monica. He is yet to try a 7-Eleven Super Big Gulp, hasn’t developed a taste for Pumpkin Spice Lattes and restricts his drive through activities to going for an on-camera visit to Astro Burger with Jennifer Hudson and a McDonalds’ takeout with Bieber.

For rare nights out, Corden enjoys going to the Laugh Factory on Sunset Boulevard, particularly whenever any of the cast of Silicon Valley get up on stage. The only star spotting tourist tour he’s taken is one he commandeered a vehicle on camera with R&B pinup Jason Derulo. He has only freaked out over seeing one celebrity in the flesh, a chance encounter with Jim Carrey in a Whole Foods in Brentwood. He hasn’t had botox, he’s had a frustrating experience with ‘a little juice cleanse’ and the only psychic he’s ever met was on the show and didn’t manage to tell him who is going to win the next election. Like any Santa Monica resident worth his salt, he can complain convincingly about the traffic trying to cross the 405. Has he reached the LA stage of driving a few blocks to get food? ‘Of course… but I’d do that in London!’ 

Given that 2016 feels like one long run up to the US election, Corden is getting used to politics on the other side of the pond. ‘What’s good is that I can talk as an outsider. I don’t need to know anything about stuff to say, “Ben Carson speaks like he forgot there was going to be a press conference and he’d just taken a Benadryl.” Those are easy jokes whatever it is!’ He’d like to get Donald Trump on the show. Their paths crossed before, when Trump was hosting the US version of The Apprentice. ‘I grabbed him on stage. I was spanking him. I fired him. He was a complete showman.’ 

It’s interesting that when talking to Corden, in many ways he’s still channelling Smithy, the tracksuited savant he unleashed in Gavin & Stacey. ‘I enjoy how he wore his heart on his sleeve. He was able to say stuff that people wish they could say.’ Now Corden gets to do something similar in real life – whether wisecracking with Will Ferrell or, in a scenario the teen Corden could only have dreamed of, duetting with Kylie Minogue. If Jay Leno lived up to Time magazine’s billing as ‘the most popular regular guy in America’, Corden’s might be ‘the Brit who can sing, dance and still can’t believe his luck’.

Originally published in the February edition of BA High Life. Read the original here.