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    Trump’s Win Unfolded on TV as a Muted Reboot

    Election night on 2024 played like an enervated replay of 2016. Was it a harbinger of how the culture will respond to a second Trump term?If you stayed up into the early morning hours to watch the Blue Wall gradually bleed red and Donald J. Trump give a rambling victory speech surrounded by an entourage, you might have thought that you had seen this show before.You had. But not quite in this way.The long election night unfolded on TV much the way Mr. Trump’s first two did — similar stakes, similar battleground states. But it played very differently. His win in 2016, after a campaign in which he was often covered as an outrageous novelty who would never really win, landed in news studios like an asteroid. In 2020, networks were prepared to fact-check his defiant, false claim of victory after a night that ended up surprisingly close for him.His re-election, on the other hand, was unusual but not unanticipated. It was within the range of possible outcomes suggested by polling, and networks went on the air with the presumption that both he and Vice President Kamala Harris had a solid chance to end up president-elect.So the re-election of a president who had attempted to overturn the results of the last contest — and the return to top billing of America’s most divisive media star — was covered, at least in its first hours, largely as a matter of math.There were seven battleground states, and within them, layers and layers of numbers and variables to unpack. On channel after channel, guys in shirtsleeves with smart-screens — Steve Kornacki, Bill Hemmer, John King — zoomed into America’s electoral anatomy. A CNN map showed in shades of brown which areas of the country had suffered most from recent inflation, a vista of amber waves of pain.The percentages were plentiful but the broader perspective elusive. In the early hours, it could be tough for a channel hopper to get a sense of who was doing well and poorly. On Fox News, Jesse Watters gloated over the “cannonball” splash of Mr. Trump’s win in Florida, while ABC saw early hope for Harris in Pennsylvania.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Why Trump Uses Comics Like Tony Hinchcliffe to Spread His Message

    Like the former president, these stand-ups loathe the news media, delight in transgression and harbor a deep-seated love of cruel insult jokes.The stand-up of Tony Hinchcliffe, a popular insult comic, became an immediate issue in the presidential campaign on Sunday after his racist lines at a Donald J. Trump rally earned immediate blowback and criticism from, among others, the Democratic vice-presidential candidate, Tim Walz.As Hinchcliffe has done in the past when embroiled in controversy, he doubled down. On X, he wrote that Walz had found the time to “analyze a joke taken out of context to make it seem racist.” Walz didn’t do that. But to the extent that there was a relevant context to Hinchcliffe’s dopey, trolling punchlines, it’s this: They were delivered at a Trump campaign event nine days before the election.There was a time not long ago when people wondered why there weren’t more conservative comedians or why there wasn’t a right-wing version of “The Daily Show.” These questions have always been a little naïve. Comedy has long had a conservative streak, and anyone who ever attended middle school knows that jokes can be as effective at reaffirming the status quo as challenging it.But comedy has become more partisan over the years; late-night TV’s move from neutral Johnny Carson to anti-Trump hosts is only one example. In this election, a forceful new Trump-friendly contingent has emerged, one dominated by male comics, many from Joe Rogan’s orbit. Whereas the biggest names in pop music have come out aggressively for Vice President Kamala Harris, the artists who have provided the most support for Trump have been comedians.Trump and his running mate, JD Vance, have made comedy podcasts a regular stop, aiming to win over young male voters dissatisfied with mainstream news outlets. Just in the past week, Vance has appeared on the podcasts of Tim Dillon, a satirical comic who specializes in booming nihilistic rants, and the oddly poetic, bro-ish comic Theo Von. After much public speculation over whether Trump would be invited to sit down with Rogan — the most popular comedy podcaster and the one who gave a boost to many of these comics — it happened. (Trump has also appeared on podcasts with Von and with the New York standup Andrew Schulz, a podcaster so popular he headlined Madison Square Garden this year.)This doesn’t even count Greg Gutfeld, who as Fox’s highly rated right-wing answer to late night has had Trump on as well.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Jon Stewart Extends ‘Daily Show’ Run Through 2025

    Stewart, who returned to the show in February as a host on Monday nights, originally planned to work through the presidential election.Jon Stewart is sticking around. After nearly nine months with Stewart back at the desk of “The Daily Show,” Comedy Central announced on Monday that he would continue to host the show on Monday nights through 2025.Stewart, who regularly won Emmys while hosting the Comedy Central show full-time from 1999 to 2015, was originally expected to host through the 2024 presidential election.“I’ve truly enjoyed being back working with the incredible team at ‘The Daily Show’ and Comedy Central,” Stewart, 61, said in a statement. “I was really hoping they’d allow me to do every other Monday, but I’ll just have to suck it up.”In addition to continuing his hosting duties one night a week, Stewart will also continue to serve as an executive producer.“Jon’s incisive intellect and sharp wit make him one of the most important voices in political and cultural commentary today,” Chris McCarthy, a senior executive at Paramount, Comedy Central’s parent company, said in the statement. “His ability to cut through the noise and deliver cleareyed insights is exactly what we need.”In September, “The Daily Show” won an Emmy for best talk series. “You have made an old man very happy,” Stewart said in the acceptance speech. “It has really made my Mondays.”A rotating lineup of hosts — including Desi Lydic, Ronny Chieng, Michael Kosta and Jordan Klepper — will continue to anchor the rest of the week. “The Daily Show” has been without a permanent host since Trevor Noah stepped down in late 2022. More

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    Without Another Debate, the Campaign Became a Duel of TV Scenes

    As the candidates raced to claim different corners of the national screen this week, it was “Undercover Boss” vs. “Roll the clip.”In a typical election season — remember those? — right about now we would be preparing for, or recovering from, the final presidential debate. But Oct. 23, the date of a proposed CNN showdown that Kamala Harris accepted and Donald J. Trump declined, came and went without one.Instead, as Ms. Harris and Mr. Trump raced to claim different corners of the national screen, they were essentially staging a virtual debate, presenting competing versions of themselves on strikingly different stages.Mr. Trump substituted the debate podium with a takeout window, performing a shift on the fry cooker at a closed McDonald’s franchise and violating the occasional job protocol. It was a familiar kind of reality-TV stunt for a reality-TV candidate.This time, however, he was not emulating “The Apprentice” but staging a political version of “Undercover Boss.”On the CBS reality series, which aired 11 seasons from 2010 to 2022, company executives went incognito to work low-level jobs at their companies. The premise was to show bigwigs how the grunts lived. But it also served, in the years after the financial collapse and Great Recession, as a form of prime-time crisis P.R. Chief executives were people too, it told us; they shared common purpose and mutual respect with the rank and file.Mr. Trump’s shift, which lasted less time than a single “Undercover Boss” episode, had different aims. Most overtly, it was a way of using virality — what news producer can resist footage of Donald Trump shoveling fries into a container? — to spread his unsubstantiated claim that Ms. Harris had lied about working at McDonald’s while in college. (As with his birtherism campaign against Barack Obama, media coverage generally noted that his charges were baseless, but the dust still got kicked up, the doubts potentially sown.)We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Presidents in Movies Always Seem to Know What They’re Doing. In Real Life …

    Hollywood’s polished leaders and legible story arcs never quite imagined the places real-life American politics would go.In October 1960, when the novelist Philip Roth was just 27, he shared an unsettling revelation: Reality was outstripping fiction. “The American writer,” he wrote, “has his hands full in trying to understand, and then describe, and then make credible much of the American reality.” He ticked off examples of newsmakers that novelists couldn’t dream up: men like the quiz-show scammer Charles Van Doren; the Eisenhower chief of staff Sherman Adams, who resigned after accepting improper gifts; and, presciently, Roy Cohn, the sinister McCarthyite prosecutor who would become, in later years, mentor to a young Donald Trump.In the 64 years since Roth first made this observation, it has become an oft-repeated refrain that the novel can do only so much to approximate reality’s madness. Cinema and television, though, haven’t done much better. The spectacle of the screen, in some sense, was supposed to — the edict is entertainment and often entertainment alone. Shouldn’t Hollywood have offered us, at some point, a president like one of our last two, Trump and Joe Biden? Or a plot twist akin to this summer’s, in which an incumbent presidential candidate was effectively toppled and his vice president took his place without winning a single primary vote? But showrunners and moviemakers never really foresaw a presidency quite like either of the last two or a campaign like this one. Their work has underestimated both what the American political system is capable of producing and what voters could ultimately stomach.Consider the American president on film. Morgan Freeman in “Deep Impact,” stoically guiding the nation through the approach of a civilization-annihilating comet. Michael Douglas in “The American President,” as a popular, introspective widower straining to date again. Or Bill Pullman’s President Thomas Whitmore in “Independence Day”: a swaggering Air Force veteran, leading his makeshift squadron into combat against the alien invaders.The generic cinema president of the 20th century was informed by politicians of that era and the sensibilities they cultivated. In style and rhetoric, the two parties often bled together. In the 1980s and ’90s, to be “presidential” was to be well coifed, almost glossy — the Kennedyesque ethos adopted by Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton in equal measure. Each, for a certain segment of the populace, was a nigh-heroic figure; even for those who disagreed, there remained a halo of dignity around the office itself. It helped that the parties were converging on policy, with Clinton’s Democrats swerving rightward after the rise of Reaganomics: Hollywood’s presidents, Democrat or Republican, didn’t even need to seem so different from one another.It is difficult to imagine Trump, or Biden, risking his life in the skies to save humanity or summoning the gravitas to inspire a nation. Biden, of course, is hampered by advanced age, something no well-known Hollywood depictions of the American presidency ever reckoned with — that a president in his 80s might, say, struggle to perform in a single televised debate and find his party in revolt, pressing him to stand down. Prestige-film presidents do not forget the names of world leaders or how their sons actually died; they don’t shout out to politicians at a White House event who aren’t there because they are dead. That stuff is more Shakespearean.And Trump, of course, is sui generis. What movie fathomed a fading reality-TV star’s running for president, winning, eventually trying to steal the next election, inciting a deadly riot at the Capitol, being indicted for falsifying business records, winning the Republican nomination anyway, almost being assassinated, blathering in another televised debate about the fictional consumption of cats and dogs in Ohio — and still running almost even in the polls? Even in the most surreal comedy, this would seem too absurd. TV presidents don’t lie with so much impunity. They possess a degree of tact and reserve that is utterly alien to Trump. In a film, something like the “Access Hollywood” tape might be the pivotal plot device that decides an election.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Sebastian Stan and Jeremy Strong Say ‘The Apprentice’ Is a ‘Human Tragedy’

    It’s natural to feel nervous before presenting your movie at a major film festival. But in late August, when the director Ali Abbasi boarded a flight to the Telluride Film Festival, he wasn’t even sure if his new movie “The Apprentice” — a fictionalized look at the Machiavellian bond between the young Donald J. Trump (Sebastian Stan) and the lawyer and fixer Roy Cohn (Jeremy Strong) — would be permitted to play there at all.“It was really crazy what happened, and I spared Jeremy and Sebastian some of it, but it is a demoralizing feeling,” Abbasi admitted during a recent video call with his two stars. The former president had been threatening legal action against “The Apprentice” since its May debut at the Cannes Film Festival, which chilled distributor interest in the movie for months and made it a controversial prospect for any subsequent festival willing to show it.“If a movie comes out and people think it’s bad or it’s flawed, you can deal with that,” Abbasi said. “But when it goes into a safe box indefinitely, that was heavy.”In the end, Trump failed to follow through on his threats, Telluride played the movie without incident and “The Apprentice” ultimately found a distributor in Briarcliff Entertainment, which will release the film on Friday. Still, Strong was perturbed by how many major studios were unwilling to take on the film and potentially incur the presidential candidate’s wrath.“You think that things could be banned in North Korea or Russia or certain places, but you don’t think that will ever happen here,” Strong said. “It’s a real dark harbinger that it even nearly happened.”Written by Gabriel Sherman, “The Apprentice” begins with Trump in his 20s as he toils under his real-estate magnate father and aspires to become a momentous figure in his own right. Still, Trump’s ambition exceeds his ability until he meets the savvy Cohn, who takes the young man under his wing and imparts ruthless rules for success that will eventually launch Trump onto the highest stage imaginable.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Vance and Walz’s Battle of the Network Co-Stars

    In what could be the last prime-time showdown of the 2024 campaign, the supporting players performed against type.If a presidential election is a TV series — and partly it is, like it or not — then the vice-presidential debate is usually a departure episode: an installment that briefly shifts focus to a couple of side characters. It might be memorable or forgettable, but it is generally skippable.Tuesday’s debate between Senator JD Vance of Ohio and Gov. Tim Walz of Minnesota was a bit different. With only Kamala Harris having committed to an Oct. 23 debate proffered by CNN and Donald J. Trump having thus far declined, it may well have been the last big prime-time moment until election night.It was not, however, a bombshell-packed season-ender. The change in cast produced a change in style, in a spirited but often surprisingly collegial debate whose attacks were largely aimed offstage, at the leaders of the ticket.This was not the debate one might have expected from these candidates, each chosen in part for his media presence. Mr. Vance has been combative in TV interviews, embodying the trolling spirit of Mr. Trump’s most extremely online surrogates. Mr. Walz shot to fame on the strength of his cable news appearances and quirky viral videos, playing the down-to-earth happy warrior who mocked opponents as “weird.”Neither performed to type on the CBS stage. Mr. Vance, who can be cutting and snide in TV interviews (and has been notorious for insults like “childless cat ladies”), answered smoothly and kept mainly cordial to his opponent. Mr. Walz, while peppering his answers with folksy touches — “My pro tip of the day is this” — spoke in a nervous rush, with fewer flashes of “Coach Walz” pep.A decade of Trump has conditioned us to think of debates as rounds of Mortal Kombat, with dire rhetoric and imagery to match. Here, there was a lot of “I agree” and “I think this is a healthy conversation” amid the factual disputes and prepared critiques of the top of the ticket. You might briefly have forgotten this was America in the year 2024.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Calling ‘Survivor’ Contestants From Tim Walz’s Motorcade

    Covering an election year can be stressful. But instead of binge-watching “Survivor” to decompress, two reporters wrote about the politics — or, lack thereof — on the show instead.Times Insider explains who we are and what we do and delivers behind-the-scenes insights into how our journalism comes together.When I first heard that Jon Lovett, the prominent political podcast host and former speechwriter for Barack Obama, would be a contestant on the new season of “Survivor,” I pleaded with my editor to write about it.(To answer your question, yes, “that show” is still on.)Covering politics during a tense election year in a closely divided country is often deadly serious, and rife with animosity. This seemed like an opportunity to write something lighter.To my surprise, my editor was game.I have vague memories of watching “Survivor” as a kid with my parents in the early 2000s, somewhere around the tail end of the show’s initial run of popularity. I rediscovered it when I started high school in 2012 — season 25 was airing — and was hooked. I began watching religiously, first on my own, and now with a group of friends on Wednesday nights, when the episodes air on CBS.It’s a remarkable run for a series with a relatively simple premise: A group of strangers are marooned on a remote tropical island and must work together to build shelter, forage for food and endure the elements, all while forming alliances and voting someone off the show each week. Though “Survivor” has, on occasion, injected new twists to keep seasons feeling fresh, something about the original format has stuck with viewers like me.For all the various real-life societal issues that have played out on the “Survivor” beach — racial tensions, discussions over gender and sexuality, generational divides — the announcement about Mr. Lovett, one of the hosts of the liberal podcast “Pod Save America,” made me realize that partisan politics had never been prominently featured on the show.I knew my colleague on the Politics desk, Alexandra Berzon, was also a “Survivor” fan, and would be eager to collaborate. At a Wisconsin bar one night in July, after a long day covering the Republican National Convention, Ali and I huddled in a corner, geeking out over “Survivor” factoids while our colleagues swapped political gossip.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More