The Christian Right tried to make a late-night talk show—and it bombed spectacularly

Eric Metaxas and his backers spent hundreds of thousands of dollars trying to copy Fallon and Kimmel. They forgot to hire talent.

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The ongoing joke about Christian culture is that it’s a sad attempt to replicate everything that’s great about secular culture. Christian movies like God’s Not Dead are bad because they’re more interested in hammering you over the head with a religious message than telling a decent nuanced story (or hiring good actors). Contemporary Christian Music might be catchy but the Jesus-heavy lyrics are so predictable, South Park can spoof it with remarkable accuracy. Even attempts to make overly right-wing sitcoms are embarrassing; it becomes very clear, very quickly, that acting and writing talent are low priorities for the people writing checks.

The bottom line is that when it comes to popular culture, Christians love to create cheap imitations that are never as good as the real thing.

The same apparently goes for late-night talk shows.

According to The Guardian, a wealthy conservative group spent “hundreds of thousands of dollars” developing a late-night talk show hosted by conspiracy theorist Eric Metaxas. At least four pilot episodes were filmed and they were so bad that the show was picked up by literally no one.

As you watch the “highlight” clip below, it becomes glaringly obvious the money was spent on the set and not on hiring joke-writers.

The Guardian sat through nearly four hours of the Talk Show, and found it to be an almost exact copy of existing late-night shows, just worse: with hack jokes about tired issues and has-been, conservative guests. The show was never picked up, presumably to the chagrin of Ziklag and its investors, who had lofty expectations.

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Unfortunately, across the four pilots, Metaxas’s comedic bent was noticeable only by its absence.

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Ziklag claimed the show would welcome “guests who are routinely shadow banned on other talk shows”, and quoted Metaxas as saying: “It’s kind of like Stalin has air-brushed these people out of the culture.”

But the common theme among the guests was that they had been naturally phased out of existing talkshows due to their irrelevance.

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Ziklag’s pitch to investors had promised big-name guests. It didn’t deliver apart from an interview – heavily touted by Metaxas – with film-maker Ron Howard. The interview turned out to be from a press junket, where directors or actors sit in a room for eight hours and basically anyone with a press pass can schedule time to question them.

The news here is not that Metaxas filmed the talk show. In fact, all four episodes are online and have been available since January of 2023. The news is how much money was spent on this project, who funded it, and how badly it failed.

The project was funded by a group called Ziklag.

In the Bible, the town of Ziklag is where the character David lives for a time while he’s being persecuted. It’s his safe space. It’s a place from which David can plan counterattacks. But as reporting from Andy Kroll of ProPublica and Nick Surgey of Documented showed in 2024, the Christians behind Ziklag had assets of “nearly $12 million” to make sure Republicans were mobilizing their base while also trying to purge Democrats from the voter rolls in swing states.

The Guardian got ahold of “leaked documents” from Ziklag showing that they were seeking up to $500,000 to film episodes of the talk show so that they could pitch the show to “digital distributors, networks and tv ownership groups.”

“Spoiler alert! The secular elites who currently reign over late-night tv are about to find out the joke’s on them!” Ziklag’s pitch email read. It lauded Metaxas, a conservative radio host and author who was an eager proponent of the false claim that the 2020 election was stolen, claiming: “His comedic bent has gone largely unnoticed until now that is…”

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In its email, Ziklag said it was offering the opportunity to invest as part of the “Media Mountain”, a reference to the Seven Mountain Mandate, a theology popular among the Christian right. The theology proposes that Christians should seek to take over seven spheres of influence in public life: religion, the government, the media, education, culture, entertainment and business.

It’s unbelievable that people with this much money couldn’t see that Metaxas is a talentless hack—How much does it cost to buy a clue?—and believed this kind of humorless show would be an alternative for people who can’t handle the razor-sharp political satire of… Jimmy Fallon.

The producer of the show insisted to The Guardian that this whole thing is being mischaracterized. They weren’t trying to create a right-wing talk show or even a Christian one. They were trying to create a universally beloved show rather than one where Republicans were always the butts of the jokes.

Chris Himes, who produced the Talk Show, said the show was not intended to be a “rightwing late-night show”. The aim, Himes said, was “to create a broad, throwback late-night program for the entire country – not just one side”.

“These are not partisan or ‘right-wing’ shows. Think Letterman or Dick Cavett in tone: humor first, with no space for snark or ‘clapter’,” he said in an email.

“Sadly, much of late night over the past decade has shifted from being genuinely funny to becoming a vehicle for tribal signaling – even occasionally straying into messaging far beyond comedy. We believe the country deserves something better.”

Himes added: “To be clear, a ‘right-wing’ late-night show would be a terrible idea. What we’re building is something more essential: a genuinely funny, unifying alternative.”

The problem with that assessment is that the shows they made weren’t funny. Plus, avoiding politics takes away the main reason so many people enjoy late night talk shows; it’s a way of informing them about the news without being so damn boring. A show that allows right-wing guests to talk about their lives and humanize themselves could find an audience, I would think, but bringing on those guests and then ignoring politics is just a waste of everyone’s time. What’s the point of watching a late-night comedy show if it doesn’t tackle current events or ask pointed questions revolving around the guests’ relevance?

It’s also a mark of stupidity for Himes to pretend the problem with current late-night hosts is that they’re too one-sided. When Republicans with power do so much damage to the country, through cruelty and ignorance and their embrace of extremism, they deserve to be ridiculed and condemned for their actions. Anyone who claims to be in the political center, at this point in our history, is someone who doesn’t understand the stakes. They deserve to be ignored.

“The Talk Show” is hardly apolitical, though. You just have to know where to look. In one monologue, when Metaxas sets up a joke about Biden possibly dropping out of the presidential race, he says “Yesterday, President—’president’—Biden shocked the nation when he said he might not run for a second term.” Metaxas literally puts air-quotes around the word “president” as if Biden wasn’t legitimately elected.

Himes is also wrong that there’s currently no “alternative” to liberal late-night hosts. Bill Maher is hardly a liberal ally at this point with his routine demonization of trans people and “wokeness.” And the most popular late-night talk show right now is Gutfeld! on Fox News—not because host Greg Gutfeld is funny but because it’s on Fox. Those shows regularly punch down by mocking the marginalized—something Metaxas has been doing for years—but even they have professional staffs.

No one needed this show. And even if there was room for another late-night host, they picked the wrong guy to helm this particular ship because Metaxas is just unlikeable. We’re talking about a guy who tweeted this in response to a thoughtless comment from Joe Biden:

He sucker-punched a guy on a bike. He’s literally the poster boy for how white evangelicals have lost their damn minds in the age of Trump. He believes so many right-wing conspiracies, it’s hard to keep track at this point.

Which is a long way of saying Ziklag is funded by very foolish people. The sort of people who believe the problem with late-night talk shows is not enough Eric Metaxas and not enough jokes that appeal to nobody. I could have told them that for $100,000 and saved them a lot of hassle.

We shouldn’t be surprised this vanity project failed because it just reveals the rot at the center of white evangelical culture and the cynical machinery that funds it. Christian entertainment has always operated under the delusion that religious sincerity can replace substance. This show, however, exposed something darker: a movement so insulated by ideology and grievance that it no longer understands what art, humor, or relevance even look like. Metaxas’ show is a parody of itself—a joyless imitation of secular creativity, built by people who can’t tell the difference between propaganda and truth. This show is what happens when no one in your life has the decency to tell you that you’re untalented and full of shit.

When late-night comedy is done well, it’s a place to speak truth to power, as we saw with Jimmy Kimmel. But in the hands of Metaxas and his supporters, it’s a place to soothe the powerful with lies, a place where the news doesn’t matter because the producers don’t think there’s anything happening that viewers need to know about.

This project didn’t just fail because the host doesn’t know what he’s doing. It failed because there’s as much heart and soul in it as there is laughter: none. Without that passion, why the hell would anyone waste their time watching it?

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