Prescient and political, 'One Battle After Another' is one of the year's best films

DAVID BIANCULLI, HOST:

This is FRESH AIR. I'm TV critic David Bianculli. It's been a busy week or so for ABC late-night talk show host Jimmy Kimmel. After Kimmel made remarks in his monologue about various political responses to the murder of Charlie Kirk, President Donald Trump and FCC commissioner Brendan Carr complained publicly. ABC affiliate station group owners Sinclair and Nexstar said they wouldn't carry the show. And ABC responded by announcing last week that "Jimmy Kimmel Live!" was being taken off the air indefinitely. But after a wave of support from Hollywood celebrities and threats of boycotts of Disney+ and Hulu by angry streaming subscribers, Disney-owned ABC reversed course and returned "Jimmy Kimmel Live!" to the airwaves Tuesday night.

Many cities still couldn't see the broadcast because those same ABC affiliate station group owners preempted his show in Seattle, Portland, New Orleans, Nashville, Washington, D.C., and elsewhere. But those who could watch - and did - saw Kimmel in fine and feisty form. That same attitude continued Wednesday night, when Kimmel's monologue included Trump's social media response to Kimmel's on-air return the night before.

(SOUNDBITE OF TV SHOW, "JIMMY KIMMEL LIVE!")

JIMMY KIMMEL: I did hear from one very special friend. Moments after we taped our show last night, the mad red hatter wrote, I can't believe ABC fake news gave Jimmy Kimmel his job back.

(LAUGHTER)

KIMMEL: You can't believe they gave me my job back? I can't believe we gave you your job back.

(APPLAUSE)

BIANCULLI: And in the same monologue, Kimmel explained why he's made so much fun of Donald Trump. The reason, Kimmel said, is because he hates bullies.

(SOUNDBITE OF TV SHOW, "JIMMY KIMMEL LIVE!")

KIMMEL: For those who think I go too hard on Donald Trump, to the point where there are still a lot of people who think I should be pulled off the air for making fun of Donald Trump. So I want to explain. I talk about Trump more than anything because he's a bully. I don't like bullies. I played the clarinet at high school, OK? So...

(CHEERING)

KIMMEL: ...I just don't like it. Donald Trump is an old-fashioned, '80s movie-style bully taking your lunch money. And if you give it to him once, he'll take it again. Two things he loves, lunch and money.

(LAUGHTER)

BIANCULLI: Being at the center of a significant and ongoing First Amendment battle is not what most people would have predicted of Jimmy Kimmel - not even, most likely, Kimmel himself. He began on radio and first became known for his work on two Comedy Central TV programs. One was the played-for-laughs game show "Win Ben Stein's Money." The other was the misogynistic "The Man Show," a tongue-in-cheek talk show co-hosted with Adam Carolla. He began hosting ABC's "Jimmy Kimmel Live!" in 2003, following the long-established ABC News "Nightline." A decade later in 2013, ABC flipped the time slots of those two programs. That's when "Jimmy Kimmel Live!" began airing at 11:35 on weeknights, the same time as his rival late-night talk shows on CBS and NBC. And that's also when Jimmy Kimmel spoke to Terry Gross. Given all the media and political attention given to Jimmy Kimmel this week and last, we thought this would be an opportune time to revisit that interview.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED NPR CONTENT)

TERRY GROSS: Jimmy Kimmel, welcome to FRESH AIR. Congratulations on your new time spot, and we've been wanting to have you on the show a really long time, so I'm glad that you are here. Thank you.

KIMMEL: Well, thank you for inviting me. I'm happy to be here, Terry. I appreciate it.

GROSS: Great. So what's the symbolic value for you of being at 11:30 compared to 12:30? And, you know, what does that mean to you?

KIMMEL: I like that you put it that way because I think the symbolism is probably more important because of Johnny Carson and because of "The Tonight Show" being on at 11:30. And - so it's a big deal for me. It is. I mean, it's something that as a kid, I was very interested in, and it's like being a baseball fan all your life and getting to be an announcer.

GROSS: Part of it seems crazy to me that it's Leno, Letterman, you and Colbert, all at the same time (laughter). It's like - do you know what I mean?

KIMMEL: It's too much, I know. It really is (laughter). But I don't - you know, especially with Stephen's show, I think that a lot of people will watch that show when they choose to watch the show. I think with the network shows, it's done more traditionally. It's people, maybe even couples sitting there, families watching television at the end of the day. And it's just - it's kind of a - I don't know if it's uniquely American, but I suspect that it is.

GROSS: Yeah. And I should say, you have a great YouTube channel. And so if you can't stay up late, there are great ways of watching you.

KIMMEL: Yeah. There are too many ways of watching me. I mean, I remember the days when - well, I didn't have a VCR when I fell in love with David Letterman. And so I would have friends tape the show for me - friends who had a VCR - and then I'd go from kind of house to house, depending upon who would tolerate it and who would go along with it and who had the best set of rabbit ears on their TV, and I'd watch the show when I couldn't stay up late enough to watch it. Most nights, I watched it live. But it's so easy now, and it's just one of those things that I know we'll be telling our grandkids, like, oh, you have no - you know, it's our version of walking without shoes through the snow to school.

GROSS: How old were you when you were allowed to stay up to 11:30 and watch "The Tonight Show"?

KIMMEL: I don't know that I ever asked permission. My parents - we had - most of my life, we had a little 12-inch black-and-white television set. And somewhere, sometime when - I think I was in junior high school, my mom went to Macy's and bought a full-size color TV set, and she expected my dad to be angry when he got home, but he wasn't. And I took the TV - the little TV set right to my - my room - my office, but I thought of it as an office. But I put it on my desk, and I never saw my family again.

GROSS: (Laughter) You're so...

KIMMEL: That was it.

GROSS: You're so relaxed on your show, but it sounds like you're very obsessive about putting it together. Rolling Stone - the cover story about you in Rolling Stone described you as transcribing the other late-night hosts' monologues to make sure there's no similarities between your monologue and theirs. Can you talk a little bit more about why you or your staff transcribes those monologues, what you do with them?

KIMMEL: Yeah. It's not me personally. It's our staff. We have one poor guy who has to sit there and write all this stuff up every night. I just don't want to repeat jokes that have been on other shows. I don't want to be accused of stealing jokes from other shows, and I just kind of want to know what they're doing. I don't go through and read that stuff unless somebody says, hey, this looks a little bit similar to what Conan is doing, and then I'll look into it - or a joke that was on "Saturday Night Live" this week. But it's mostly because I think it's important to be original. I just - I would hate the idea that people think we're stealing jokes, so I want to make sure that we don't, even if it's an accident.

GROSS: You were one of the people who paid tribute to David Letterman at the end of 2012 when he received a Kennedy Center Honor. And it was a really beautiful and funny tribute that shows how much he means to you and how he's affected you as a comic and as a host. So I just want to play your tribute to him.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED RECORDING)

KIMMEL: In February of 1983, when "Late Night With David Letterman" went on the air, I was 15 years old and lucky enough to have a little black-and-white TV set in my bedroom. Every night, after my parents went into their room to molest each other...

(LAUGHTER)

KIMMEL: ...I'd stay up late secretly watching Johnny Carson. And then I started staying up later to watch the guy who went on after him. And while I loved Johnny, I fell in love with Dave. When I turned 16, I blew out the candles on a "Late Night With David Letterman" cake that my mom made me. My first car had a "Late Night" vanity plate. I drew pictures of Dave on the covers of all my textbooks. I started a "Late Night With David Letterman" club in high school. To me, it wasn't just a TV show. It was the reason I would fail to make love to a live woman for many, many years to come.

(LAUGHTER)

KIMMEL: Every night, I wanted to be David Letterman. All my friends wanted to be David Letterman. Ironically, the only person who didn't want to be David Letterman is David Letterman.

(LAUGHTER)

KIMMEL: And that is a shame because you, Dave, are the funniest, the smartest, the weirdest, the coolest and the best one ever, hands down. And the greatest thrill of my career came last month when Dave agreed to be a guest on my show. He could tell I was nervous. So right before the show, he came to my dressing room and just held me.

(LAUGHTER)

KIMMEL: But, Dave, whether you like it or not, you are my hero, and you are a hero to most everyone in this room with the possible exception of the people who came to see the ballerina.

(LAUGHTER)

KIMMEL: No one will ever measure up to you. It's impossible because we wouldn't know how to do this without you. You taught us. You inspired us. And most of all, you made us laugh really hard. Thank you, Dave.

(APPLAUSE)

GROSS: It was a really beautiful tribute. That was Jimmy Kimmel paying tribute to David Letterman. What did you do in the David Letterman club that you founded (laughter)?

KIMMEL: Well, he used to do a Friday night show every once in a while, like, once every three months, and we would have (laughter) - I'd have people over the house. Paul Shaffer used to sing a song. It was this little stupid thing, and he'd say, (Singing) Bermuda, it's a cuckoo, nutty place. And so I decorated my house to look like Bermuda for one of these parties.

GROSS: (Laughter).

KIMMEL: We'd - I'd recreate props that I'd seen on the show. There was - they did a bit about summer barbecue or something, and they had a sign that said, if the grill's not clean enough for you, go home. And so I made a sign that said that above the grill. I'd make buttons with Dave's face on them, and then everyone would wear them. Looking back on it, it's - I know it's ridiculous, but it seemed - it made perfect sense at the time.

GROSS: So at the...

KIMMEL: It really did.

GROSS: At the time, did you think this is what I want to do when I grow up, I want to have a late-night show?

KIMMEL: No. I know it's a much better story that way, but that is - that never crossed my mind. It really didn't. It was - I never thought there would be another late-night show. I never thought that - I don't know. It never occurred to me that Johnny Carson and David Letterman would ever go off the air. I mean, it never occurred to me - even though I knew the names of every writer on "Late Night," it never occurred to me that you could get a job as a writer on "Late Night." I thought those are the writers on the show, and that's how it goes. And had I - had anyone ever stopped me and said, you know, maybe you should submit - I mean, you could write something, and maybe they'll hire, that's probably the path I would have taken. But it never occurred to me.

GROSS: So while...

KIMMEL: I was not a bright kid (laughter).

GROSS: So while you were, you know, the founding president of the David Letterman club and you had your David Letterman license plate, what were you thinking your future was going to be?

KIMMEL: I wanted to be an artist. That was my goal. I'm good at drawing, and at school, that's kind of what I was known for, and it just seemed to be what I would do. Everyone in my family thought that is what I would do, and I thought that's what I would do. But I read a Playboy magazine article. Dave was interviewed, and in that article, he said he started in radio. And I loved Howard Stern, and I thought, well, that seems like it might be fun.

And I was working at a clothing store in Las Vegas. And a couple of days later, one of the guys that worked there said, hey, you know, I work at the college radio station KUNV in Las Vegas, and you'd be funny on the radio. Do you want to do something? And I said, yeah, I'd love to do something. And I went in, had a meeting with the program director, and they had a plan for me when I got there. He said, I want you to do a half-hour show on Sunday nights and make fun of local celebrities. And I thought, oh, well, that's great.

And the first time I did it, I'm sure it was terrible. I don't have the tapes unfortunately. But I loved it, and my whole family was listening. When I got home - that experience, which I'm sure you've had when you realize people are listening to you, is magical. And I was hooked in it. I mean, I loved being in a radio station. I loved radio. I just could not get enough of it. I mean, I worked for years for free. I just loved every bit of it, and just the idea of broadcasting was - it really excited me.

GROSS: Isn't that station a public station?

KIMMEL: It is, yeah.

GROSS: So you start...

KIMMEL: Mostly jazz.

GROSS: So Jimmy Kimmel started in public radio.

KIMMEL: That's right.

GROSS: (Laughter) Wow, that's great.

KIMMEL: And graduated to the public toilet.

(LAUGHTER)

GROSS: So you had several different personas on the air - right? - over the years.

KIMMEL: I did.

GROSS: You did sports, and you did, like, morning zoo stuff, maybe?

KIMMEL: Yeah. I worked at the "Q Morning Zoo" in two different markets, KRQ in Tucson and Q105 in - and this is how creative people in radio are (laughter). If there's a Q in it, it rhymes with zoo, and that's what we're going to call the show.

BIANCULLI: Jimmy Kimmel speaking to Terry Gross in 2013. More after a break. This is FRESH AIR.

This is FRESH AIR. Let's get back to Terry's 2013 interview with Jimmy Kimmel. The ABC late-night talk show host returned to the air this week after a brief suspension by Disney-owned ABC over some monologue remarks that became controversial.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED NPR CONTENT)

GROSS: So you start in radio and eventually end up on late-night. So let's get to your late-night show, the one that was at 12:30 and is now at 11:30, "Jimmy Kimmel Live!"

KIMMEL: It was actually at midnight, and now at 11:30.

GROSS: At midnight, right. After "Nightline."

KIMMEL: Yep.

GROSS: After "Nightline."

KIMMEL: Right.

GROSS: So you get a show and you have to figure out how are you going to be different from the other guys. When you had to first figure out who are you as a late-night host, like, how did you figure out who you were going to be and what your trademarks were going to be?

KIMMEL: It took a long time. One thing I did right is I knew that you had to have a desk and you had to have a couch and you had to have a band. And that I was smart enough to know. But that's where that intelligence ended. I honestly - the rest of it, I didn't know how to do it. Almost no one on our staff knew how to do it. And I just kind of figured it out just to stay alive. I mean, really, every night, every day, it was like trying not to drown, just trying to get a show on the air, trying to get guests to sit in the chair that night, sometimes getting good guests, sometimes getting terrible guests, sometimes feeling very bad about myself after the show and feeling like it was a mess and occasionally feeling like, well, that went OK. Maybe I could do this.

I even went through a period where I secretly hoped ABC would cancel the show because I had a lot of people relying on me, and I still do, people that work on the show, and I couldn't really quit. Not that I would have, but the thought was always in my head that it would sure be great if somebody would put an end to my misery here and let me go on to do...

GROSS: What was the misery coming from? It was too hard or too much pressure?

KIMMEL: It was relentless. It was relentless. And I've been acclimated to that doing morning radio 5 1/2 hours a day every morning, but just the amount to which I had to rely on others was difficult for me because when you do a talk show, you do have to rely on guests, you have to rely on people agreeing to be a part of it, and you have to ask them to go along with things. You have to ask them to participate. Whereas in radio, you can do the show on your own endlessly and indefinitely. If you have somebody, that's great, but you don't need to have somebody.

So that was hard for me, and it was hard to convince people to be on the show, partly I think because there was some fear that I was some kind of a monster that they imagined, based on "The Man Show," which is a show I did on Comedy Central. And people didn't understand that that show was - It was kind of a character. You know, it was a specific show aimed at a specific audience, and we - it was tongue-in-cheek.

GROSS: So it must be hard to be really stressed out because of the pressures of a new show and then come on at midnight as the relaxed midnight guy. Like, your day's over. I'm going to, like, tell you some jokes and entertain you. Was it hard to be the relaxed, funny person you wanted to be after day after day of stress?

KIMMEL: Weirdly, no, because the thing about doing the show is, once the show starts, everything the work is done. So you can relax in a way. You can stop and enjoy it if - I don't know if that's the right word to use, but you can do that because everything's done. And sometimes I walk downstairs and I think we have some really funny stuff tonight, and I'm looking forward to showing it to the audience. Some nights, I walk downstairs and go, all right, it's all on you...

GROSS: (Laughter).

KIMMEL: ...You know, to make this funny, and you might not. And some nights I walk out, and the audience is great, and they give me laughs where I don't deserve them. And some nights, it goes the other way, where you feel like something was funny and you didn't get much response from people. And that's the nature of performing in front of a live audience, and there's nothing you can do about it. But for me, doing the show is kind of the best part of the day.

GROSS: More or less right from the beginning of your show, you've had family involved with it. You know, your uncle, your cousin. Your old friend from, I think, high school is the leader of the band on your show.

KIMMEL: Yeah. My best friend since I was 9 years old, he lived across the street from me. And his dad is in the band, too. But my Aunt Chippy is on the show. My cousin Sal is a regular and a writer on the show. My brother is a director on the show. My fiancée is the co-head writer on the show. My cousin Micki works in the talent department, and I've got a few other relatives, not quite as close as those, sprinkled throughout the show, too.

GROSS: It's often exactly the opposite for people. They get to a certain level of fame, and it's not that they cut off their family, but they're in a different world than their family. But you...

KIMMEL: Those are smart people. Those...

(LAUGHTER)

GROSS: ...But you've brought so much of your family into your world, and some of them are behind the scenes. Some of them are in front of the camera. How did it end up that way? Why did you want to do that?

KIMMEL: Well, first, I think I had to do that. The first person that I brought on the air was my Uncle Frank. My Uncle Frank was a cop in New York for 20 years. He worked as a security guard in Vegas for various celebrities like Frank Sinatra and everyone Italian who'd come into Vegas, my Uncle Frank was their security guard - Caesar's. And he's just - he was a funny character, and I got a kick out of him, and every once in a while, I'd have him on the radio when I was on the radio, and he was always funny. And I knew that I needed someone to talk to on the air.

I knew that I needed something besides me, and somebody to send to things. And instantly, he fit that perfectly. I had to convince him. In fact, he was living in New York, and the only reason that he moved out to take the job on the show was he found (laughter) he was worried about transferring his checking account. He had a specific bank at which he had a checking account, and he found out there was one branch of the bank in LA. So he rented an apartment right near that bank, and that's what made it OK to come out.

BIANCULLI: Jimmy Kimmel speaking to Terry Gross in 2013. After a break, we'll continue their conversation. Also I'll review the new Netflix drama series "The House Of Guinness," (ph) and Justin Chang reviews "One Battle After Another," the new Paul Thomas Anderson film starring Leonardo DiCaprio. I'm David Bianculli, and this is FRESH AIR.

(SOUNDBITE OF THE METERS' "CARDOVA")

BIANCULLI: This is FRESH AIR. I'm TV critic David Bianculli. Let's continue with more of Terry's 2013 conversation with Jimmy Kimmel, host of ABC's recently suspended and even more recently reinstated late-night talk show "Jimmy Kimmel Live!" For most of the 20-plus years of "Jimmy Kimmel Live!" Kimmel has been relatively apolitical, or at least an equal opportunity offender. In the early years, especially, he took a lighter approach, finding delight in certain silly guests and even in family members and coworkers whose everyday personalities genuinely amused him.

His current "Jimmy Kimmel Live!" on-air sidekick, Guillermo Rodriguez, was the show's parking lot security guard when Kimmel first brought him on camera in 2003 to do security guard comedy bits with Kimmel's Uncle Frank Potenza, who also had a background as a security guard in Las Vegas and as a police officer in New York. When we left off, Terry and Jimmy Kimmel were talking about Uncle Frank.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED NPR CONTENT)

GROSS: When you told your Uncle Frank that you wanted him to move out and be on camera, to be a character on your show, what did - how did you tell him? What did you tell him?

KIMMEL: He had no idea what I was talking about. He honestly had no idea what I was talking about. He was very confused. He thought he was going to be the head of security for the show, which is funny because in 20 years on the New York NYPD, he arrested only six people, and one was by accident. So (laughter) and this is - these are his retirement years. But he really didn't know what to expect. And his daughters convinced him that it was a good idea. And he just stood by the door the first night, and I think the first thing we ever shot with him was we sent him to Brooklyn with Mike Tyson to see Mike Tyson's pigeons on the rooftop. And it was an odd piece, and it was kind of sweet, and it was funny. And that's when I knew that it was going to work.

GROSS: You had him basically play a security guard.

KIMMEL: No. Well, yeah, you're right. You're right. He wasn't really doing security.

GROSS: (Laughter) OK.

KIMMEL: But he was wearing a security guard uniform.

GROSS: Yeah, yeah. So...

KIMMEL: He thought he was doing security, though, so he wasnt...

GROSS: Did he really?

KIMMEL: Yeah. Oh, yeah. He - you know, if something happened, he would try to stop it. I mean, you know, there was a time where Andy Dick had to be dragged off the stage, and there was my Uncle Frank dragging Andy Dick off the stage.

GROSS: So your Uncle Frank died in 2011. What role did he play in your life as a child?

KIMMEL: He was a character. He would - he - this is how dinner would go. And my parents never really - they didn't have friends, and my aunt and uncle didn't have friends, and my grandparents didn't have friends. They were each other's friends. So pretty much every weekend, we'd go to their house and we'd have dinner, or they'd come to our house and have dinner with us. And my Uncle Frank, we'd have dinner at around 6:30, 7 o'clock. My Uncle Frank would clear all the plates off the table, and then he would announce that he had to go to bed. So he'd go to his bedroom. He'd say goodnight to everyone. And then once an hour until about midnight, he'd come out of his bedroom in pajamas and go, Chippy, did you pay the water bill?

GROSS: (Laughter).

KIMMEL: And she'd go, yeah, Frank. So he really wasn't going to bed. He was just trying to get away from everyone. And when he cleared the plate, it wasn't because he wanted the house to be neat. He just wanted us to all go home. He really wanted - wherever he was, he was ready to leave. And wherever he was headed, he was ready to go there. And I think it was anxiety more than anything, but it tickled us. And we - you know, of course, we goofed on him all the time, and we'd ask him over and over again what time he's leaving for the airport. The story about the airport. I mean, there were many times where he slept over at the airport. And it's crazy, but that's just how he was. He's a very odd guy, but always very nice and always very funny and just a good, solid guy.

GROSS: So, I read that there was a period when you were young when you would actually videotape family fights. And I was thinking, what a weird thing to do, and how weird it was that your family allowed you to even do that. So...

KIMMEL: Even weirder, I didn't have a video camera. I'd make cassette tapes of the family. Not just fights.

GROSS: Oh, it was like audio tapes?

KIMMEL: Yeah, audio tapes. And not just fights - everything. I'd just tape a whole dinner, and then my cousin Sal, we grab the tape, and then we'd memorize it. We'd listen back...

GROSS: (Laughter).

KIMMEL: ...To it over and over again. I remember a particular passage as my Uncle Frank was trying to get ketchup out of the ketchup bottle, and he's shaking it. And he was - he would give up on things almost immediately. So he's shaking the ketchup, and he goes, to his wife, my Aunt Chippy, Chip, how do you pour this? She goes, Frank, you got to shake it. And he's shaking it. Shake it, Frank. Frank, Frank, you got to - Frank, you got to - the cap is on, Frank. You got to open the bottle before it'll god**** pour out. And then she goes on a rant. He's so stupid, it's pathetic. He'll never invent the aeroplane. He'll never invent the light bulb. He's lucky if he knows how to turn one on.

GROSS: (Laughter).

KIMMEL: He'll never invent the aeroplane.

(LAUGHTER)

GROSS: So, you and your cousin Sal would record this and then memorize the lines and do it as a routine for each other?

KIMMEL: Not only that, we had a book of quotes from my Aunt Chippy...

GROSS: (Laughter).

KIMMEL: ...That she never said. So we'd make things up that we imagine her saying. She's very - especially when she gets mad, she's very creative. Her analogies are ridiculous but also very imaginative. So we'd write - in fact, I still have it. It's like a binder - three-ring binder, and we'd write things down that we think Aunt Chippy might have said.

GROSS: So I have to ask you about Matt Damon.

KIMMEL: Yes.

GROSS: He's going to be a guest - interviewee guest on your show for the first time very soon. And - but he's been a recurring character on the show 'cause you end your shows by saying...

KIMMEL: Apologies to Matt Damon. We ran out of time.

GROSS: Yes. And he's been on a couple of sketches, most notably, the video that went viral that he and Sarah Silverman did. How did he become a running gag on your show? Are you friends?

KIMMEL: It was - no, we weren't. Well, we are now, but at the time, he was just - we had a bad show, and the guests were bad, and I was feeling pretty bad about myself at the end of the program. And I decided to say, for the amusement of one of our producers who was standing next to me, I said, and I want to apologize to Matt Damon. We ran out of time. Meanwhile, we'd had a couple of reality stars or something on the show that night. And he got a kick out of it, the producer. And so I just started doing it every night to amuse him. And Matt Damon was just the first name that popped into my head. I just was trying to think of an A-list star and somebody that we absolutely would not bump if he was on the show. And it just kind of continued from there.

And then, you know, I didn't plan to do it forever, but he started - people started asking him about it, and he got a kick out of it, and we heard from his publicist that he liked it and that we should keep doing it. And so we kept doing it, and it became, you know, and then they did the video, and there's been a lot of back-and-forth. And it's been a lot of fun. It really has - the legs on this bit are unbelievable to me. I mean, people laugh every time I say it, and you don't get, you know, repeating the same joke every single night, you'd think eventually, people would get tired of it, but they don't.

GROSS: Jimmy Kimmel, thank you so much for being on our show. I wish you all the best of luck with your new time, and thank you.

KIMMEL: Thank you, Terry. It was a lot of fun talking to you. I listen to you all the time, and I appreciate being asked to be a part of the show. I feel like a real person now.

GROSS: Thank you so much for saying that. I want you to leave us with one thing. You did a series of celebrities reading insulting tweets about them. What is the most wonderfully insulting tweet that you remember about you?

KIMMEL: Oh.

GROSS: That you can say on the radio. Yeah.

KIMMEL: Let's see. Yeah, they're almost all - there are some very, very insulting. There are some - people are so cruel, and I do read every one of these tweets. So...

GROSS: (Laughter).

KIMMEL: ...If you have something terrible to say about me, trust that it is going to hit home. You know, they range from my appearance to my abilities to just general insults (laughter) about things that no normal person would ever say if you were to meet them face-to-face. Boy, I wish I could think of one specifically, but maybe the most insulting thing is when they tell you you look just like their brother and then include a picture of their brother and their brother's a big fat slob.

GROSS: (Laughter).

KIMMEL: It's a compliment. Those are the worst.

GROSS: Oh, Jimmy Kimmel, thank you again. Be well and thanks.

KIMMEL: Thank you. Take care.

BIANCULLI: Jimmy Kimmel speaking to Terry Gross in 2013. Here's one final taste from Wednesday night's show. Kimmel plays a clip from Newsmax in which a correspondent presents a rather unusual explanation for Kimmel's reinstatement.

(SOUNDBITE OF TV SHOW, "JIMMY KIMMEL LIVE!")

KIMMEL: For whatever reason, it's becoming increasingly difficult for people to accept anything at face value. Here's a fun little conspiracy theory we heard on Newsmax today.

UNIDENTIFIED CORRESPONDENT: I don't think many people are going to watch, and if I've said it once, I've said it a million times - the only reason that Jimmy Kimmel got his show back is because he has so much dirt on everyone in the industry. I think people are scared to go against him. I mean, this is from, like, all my sources in the industry. Like, you don't say no to Jimmy because he will find a way to get you back.

(LAUGHTER)

KIMMEL: That is 100% true, by the way.

(APPLAUSE)

KIMMEL: You mess with me, you will never be heard from again. Ask Matt Damon, you remember him?

(LAUGHTER)

KIMMEL: No, you do not.

BIANCULLI: "Jimmy Kimmel Live!" has been reinstated on most of these ABC stations. Well, many of them, anyway. The show's next original telecast is scheduled for Monday. Coming up, I review the "House Of Guinness," the new period TV series from Steven Knight. This is FRESH AIR.

DAVID BIANCULLI, HOST:

This is FRESH AIR. I'm TV critic David Bianculli. Steven Knight, creator of the intense British period dramas "Peaky Blinders" and "A Thousand Blows," is back with a third one, which premiered this week on Netflix. It's an eight-part series called "The House Of Guinness" (ph) and tells the story of the battle for control at the venerable Irish brewing company in the 1860s. Let's begin by noting the way Steven Knight begins "The House Of Guinness." He starts with a very unusual and very freeing disclaimer. This fiction, it says in a message superimposed on the screen, is inspired by true stories.

Right up front, that gives Steven Knight the creative license to do just about anything he wants with his story and his characters, even though it's taking its inspiration from actual events, locations and personalities. "The House Of Guinness" has been described as a sort of 1860s "Succession," with the adult children of a very wealthy and powerful man jockeying to gain control of his empire. And there were indeed four grown children of Sir Benjamin Lee Guinness, all of whom had their own ideas about what to do with his fortune and his beer-producing empire. But in "The House Of Guinness," Sir Benjamin - lord mayor of Dublin, member of Parliament, owner of the dominant Irish brewery - dies almost immediately. At his memorial service, the bishop, played by Sean O'Callaghan, lays out the stakes for the surviving family members.

(SOUNDBITE OF TV SHOW, "HOUSE OF GUINNESS")

SEAN O'CALLAGHAN: (As Bishop Mowatt) But most of all, he was a devoted family man. And of course, our thoughts and prayers are most of all with Sir Benjamin Lee Guinness' four children. Since their late mother died, it has been their father who has raised them. These heirs to his legacy will now have the responsibility to match and better the momentous achievements of their beloved father. With God's help and with the determination and courage which they have inherited from the great man himself, we have no doubt that the children of Sir Benjamin Lee Guinness will rise to the task and take this particularly Irish enterprise to all four corners of God's Earth.

BIANCULLI: At the reading of the will, the parcels of the father's kingdom are handed out, but unevenly and with a purpose. The eldest son, Arthur, is forced to work with the youngest son, Edward, to run the brewery. The black sheep of the family, the wild child Ben, is severely restricted as to funds and influence. And so is the daughter, Anne, because - well, because it's the 1860s and she's the daughter. But immediately, all four siblings start scheming for ways to improve their individual fortunes.

Meanwhile, outside the family, other troubles are brewing. There's Ireland's recently won independence from England and its ongoing rebellion against English rules. Those play out in Dublin, but also in New York, as the narrative and the imported Guinness beer find their way to America. And in both places, there are those who seek to bring down or manipulate the Guinness family. In Dublin, one of those is Ellen Cochrane, played by Niamh McCormack, who explains to her less crafty brother her plans to blackmail the Guinness family.

(SOUNDBITE OF TV SHOW, "HOUSE OF GUINNESS")

NIAMH MCCORMACK: (As Ellen Cochrane) Sir Benjamin Lee Guinness had no secrets that could hurt him. But his children are a different matter. Maids, cooks, butlers, the new generation talk in front of them as if they were made of glass. The maids talk to me.

BIANCULLI: Ellen is a great character, completely outside Irish high society, but completely unafraid of it as well. The Guinness sister Anne, played by Emily Fairn, is another wonderful character to watch. And so is Lady Olivia, played by Danielle Galligan, who finds a pragmatic way to enter into the Guinness family orbit. Three juicy roles, three extremely delightful performances. And the brothers, Anthony Boyle as Arthur, Louis Partridge as Edward, Fionn O'Shea as Ben. As in the stars of "Peaky Blinders," every one of these players gets so many moments to shine.

Steven Knight knows exactly how to bring period dramas and period characters to life. "The House Of Guinness" is full of intense confrontations and unexpected complications. And anyone who enjoyed "Peaky Blinders," or "Succession," or "The Gilded Age" should find "The House Of Guinness" very satisfying to watch. But to be honest, you might find it a bit difficult to hear. Some of these Irish accents can be tough to parse. I recommend using the subtitle setting provided by Netflix so you can translate their English into ours. But the story and the intrigue, those translate perfectly.

(SOUNDBITE OF THE POGUES SONG, "LOVE YOU 'TILL THE END")

BIANCULLI: "The House Of Guinness" is streaming now on Netflix. Coming up, film critic Justin Chang reviews "One Battle After Another," the new film by Paul Thomas Anderson starring Leonardo DiCaprio. This is FRESH AIR.

DAVID BIANCULLI, HOST:

This is FRESH AIR. Our film critic, Justin Chang, says "One Battle After Another," a new action thriller from the director Paul Thomas Anderson, is one of the best movies he's seen all year. It's a loose adaptation of Thomas Pynchon's novel "Vineland," starring Leonardo DiCaprio as a former political militant who's gone into hiding with his daughter. Here is Justin's review.

JUSTIN CHANG, BYLINE: Paul Thomas Anderson is one of Hollywood's great time travelers. He took us to turn of the century oil country in "There Will Be Blood," the 1950s London fashion world in "Phantom Thread" and the '70s San Fernando Valley twice in "Boogie Nights" and "Licorice Pizza." "One Battle After Another" is Anderson's first film in ages set in the present day. And partly for that reason, it grabs you and even smacks you in the face in a way that his other movies haven't. It's a prescient, mesmerizing, frequently hilarious and fearlessly political piece of work. It's also an action thriller, staged on an epic canvas, with harrowing gunfights, daring rooftop escapes and poundingly visceral car chases, including one staged on a rolling desert highway that must be seen to be believed.

The exact time frame isn't specified. But from the opening sequence, in which a band of revolutionaries rescue immigrants from a detention center near the U.S.-Mexico border, it's clear that the moment is ours. The revolutionaries call themselves the French 75. Leonardo DiCaprio plays Pat, an explosives expert. A searing Teyana Taylor plays his lover, Perfidia Beverly Hills, who's fiercely dedicated to the group's radical principles. The film's first half hour catches us up on the heat and momentum of their reckless romance and also on the tension and danger of their work, as they plant bombs in courthouses and pro-life politicians' offices.

Perfidia makes a powerful enemy of an Army colonel with the colorful name of Steven J. Lockjaw. He's played by an unnerving Sean Penn. A dark, sometimes perverse game of cat and mouse ensues. And it all ends in betrayal and disaster. Perfidia vanishes, forcing Pat to go into hiding with their infant daughter while many of the French 75 are rounded up or killed. Sixteen years later, Pat, calling himself Bob Ferguson, is hiding out in a fictional town called Baktan Cross.

The film was shot across California and in El Paso, Texas. His daughter, Willa, is now a smart, plucky teenager, played by the remarkable young actor Chase Infiniti. A fitting name, since the rest of the movie is basically one relentless pursuit. Lockjaw has located them and sent troops into Baktan Cross on the pretext of cracking down on immigrants. His true targets, though, are Bob and Willa. Amid the chaos, father and daughter are separated. Willa is rescued by an old friend of her dad's, played by a terrific Regina Hall. Bob, meanwhile, narrowly escapes Lockjaw's clutches and calls on the French 75 for help. But he hasn't been in touch with them for years, and with his memory fried by booze and pot, he can't remember all the secret pass phrases to confirm his identity.

(SOUNDBITE OF FILM, "ONE BATTLE AFTER ANOTHER")

UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (As character) Rise and shine.

LEONARDO DICAPRIO: (As Bob) Bat an eyelash.

UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (As character) Good morning.

DICAPRIO: (As Bob) There are no hands on the clock.

UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (As character) Why?

DICAPRIO: (As Bob) Because they're not needed.

UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (As character) What time is it?

DICAPRIO: (As Bob) Oh. You know, I don't remember that part.

UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (As character) All right.

DICAPRIO: (As Bob) Let's just not nitpick over the password stuff. Look, this is Bob Ferguson, all right? You just called my house. Let's cut the [expletive]. I need the rendezvous point.

UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (As character) What time is it?

DICAPRIO: (As Bob) Look, Steve Lockjaw just attacked my home. I lost my daughter. This is Bob Ferguson, you understand?

UNIDENTIFIED ACTOR: (As character) Right. Yeah.

DICAPRIO: (As Bob) I don't remember any more of this. I don't remember any more of this code speak, all right? Let's just get on with what is the rendezvous point.

CHANG: DiCaprio has always been an underappreciated comic performer. And he hasn't been this funny or physically dynamic in a film since "The Wolf Of Wall Street." Bob spends most of the movie running around in a plaid bathrobe and sporting a messy man bun, desperately trying to find Willa. He gets some help from Willa's extremely resourceful martial arts teacher, played by a sensational Benicio Del Toro. I'd watch a completely separate film focused just on Del Toro's character and what he calls his Latino Harriet Tubman situation, which offers migrants refuge and safe passage through Baktan Cross.

In 2014, Anderson directed a largely faithful adaptation of Thomas Pynchon's stoner detective novel "Inherent Vice." "One Battle After Another" takes far more creative liberties with another Pynchon work, "Vineland," which was set in the '60s, '70s and '80s. Although Anderson has shifted the time frame, the weave of zany dark comedy, sociopolitical satire and controlled narrative chaos feels unmistakably Pynchonesque. That's especially true of an outlandish subplot - or is it? - involving a shadowy cabal of Christian nationalists whom Lockjaw is involved with. Elsewhere, when protesters clash with riot police in Baktan Cross, the movie achieves the grit and immediacy of a gorilla documentary.

It's safe to say that Anderson thinks America is in grim shape, which is nothing new. In two of his best films, "There Will Be Blood" and "The Master," he argued that violence, greed and religious hucksterism are part of the national character. But Anderson isn't a cynic. I've always thought of him as a big-hearted pessimist. And here he's given us both a gonzo vision of a nation at war with itself and a deeply resonant father-daughter love story. What's ultimately most striking about "One Battle After Another" is its extraordinary tenderness, as Bob and Willa try to find their way back to each other. The worst of times really can bring out the best of humanity, the best of movies, too.

BIANCULLI: Justin Chang is a film critic for The New Yorker magazine. To keep up with what's on the show and get highlights of our interviews, follow us on Instagram at @nprfreshair. On Monday's show, comic and actor Cristela Alonzo talks about growing up in a Texas border town. Her mother was a Mexican immigrant who was undocumented until Alonzo was 10. Alonzo's family squatted in an abandoned diner. She became the first Latina to create, write and star in a network TV show. She has a new Netflix comedy special. I hope you can join us.

(SOUNDBITE OF AARON GOLDBERG'S "TROCANDO EM MIUDOS")

BIANCULLI: FRESH AIR's executive producer is Danny Miller. Sam Briger is our managing producer. Our senior producers today are Roberta Shorrock and Thea Chaloner. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham, with additional engineering support by Joyce Lieberman and Julian Herzfeld. Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Phyllis Myers, Ann Marie Baldonado, Lauren Krenzel, Therese Madden, Monique Nazareth, Susan Nyakundi and Anna Bauman. Our digital media producer is Molly Seavy-Nesper. Hope Wilson is our consulting visual producer. For Terry Gross and Tonya Mosley, I'm David Bianculli.

(SOUNDBITE OF AARON GOLDBERG'S "TROCANDO EM MIUDOS")

Transcripts are created on a rush deadline, and accuracy and availability may vary. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Please be aware that the authoritative record of Fresh Air interviews and reviews are the audio recordings of each segment.