Eric Andre’s Carnival of Chaos

Eric Andre at the Langham Huntington Hotel in Pasadena, CA.
Photo Courtesy of Juagarps

Talk-show host Eric Andre offers his own take on late-night television

Chase Fryfogle / Contributor / The USD Vista

From making his guests watch the infamous “Two Girls One Cup” video to releasing their personal information to the public, Eric Andre has a wide array of skills that set him apart from the average talk show host. The Eric Andre Show is a surreal carnival of chaos where absurdity becomes the new normal, and is a program which could be the evolution of late-night television.

Together, host Eric Andre and co-host Hannibal Buress parody the tired late-night talk show genre by blending the typical formula with an unfiltered stream of consciousness, countering the original material’s manicured, viewer friendly content. In fact, the show goes out of its way to be off-putting, as if Andre and Buress have created something consisting of inside jokes only they are in on. This becomes apparent right off the bat, as every episode begins with Andre manically destroying the entire set in a plethora of ways for no apparent reason. This series of events always ends up as a huge waste of time since a new set slides back into place after he finishes. However, this intro accomplishes more than just an attempt at random humor, it serves as the door into the show’s Twilight Zone. Everything from this point forward exists in a “Bizarro” world designed to make anyone who isn’t in on the joke question their sanity. The real magic comes from the interview segments. While mainstream shows bring guests in to answer a few softball questions, sell their personality, and promote whatever they are working on, Andre screams “I don’t care” to the television world. Guests come on the show thinking that it’s just another stop on their press circuit, completely unsuspecting of the hostile environment they are about to enter. The objective of Andre’s interviews isn’t to schmooze or promote, but to see how far he can push interviewees until they break. This is accomplished by Andre making a conscious effort to be the worst host possible, coupled with Buress as the faux straight man – a person who acts in a serious manner to foil the eccentricity of another. While Andre asks the guests unnerving and overly personal questions, Buress looms over them since he has nowhere to sit. A better way to describe Buress would be as a life preserver designed to sink. He gives off an energy that lets the guests know “I don’t really want to be here either,” luring them into a false sense of security around him. Then, the moment they turn towards him looking for assurance in a moment of confusion, it is revealed that he’s just as bizarre as Andre with a surreally abnormal act, like drinking water from a garden hose. Slowly but surely the hosts chip away at their guests’ patience by what can only be described as gauntlet of psychological torture. The golden standard for these interviews is Lauren Conrad’s, who walked out in horror after Andre slurped vomit off his desk. This feat was only possible because Buress started screaming Waka Flocka Flame lyrics to draw Conrad’s attention while Andre put fake vomit in his mouth. In the end, everything his guests go through is pointless. The grueling 45 minute interviews are edited down to about two or three minutes, often unraveling their carefully crafted public persona.

Andre revitalizes an over saturated genre of television not by only by parodying it, but by reinventing it from the ground up. Like a shattered stained-glass window, “The Eric Andre Show “offers its viewers the opportunity to look past a pretty picture and into a beautiful dumpster fire.