John Oliver Won't Stop Mocking His Adopted Home

The Journey of a Comedian: From Edinburgh to HBO

At 48 years old, comedian John Oliver has achieved remarkable success, earning 21 Emmy awards, three Peabodys, and being named one of Time Magazine's 100 most influential people. His unique blend of meticulously researched political humor has made him a standout figure in the world of comedy. His Sunday night show, "Last Week Tonight," is now in its 12th season on HBO, providing him with a platform to deliver searing, satirical takes on America, which he now considers his adopted homeland. But how did a British-born, middle-class, grade school cut-up become one of this country’s sharpest comedians?

This past summer, we returned with John Oliver to his comedic launching pad—Edinburgh, Scotland, where modern life is set against a medieval backdrop. Bill Whitaker asked him about the place, and John described it as controlled mayhem. Every August, the city hosts the world's largest performing arts festival—a month-long free-for-all known as the Fringe. Artists from 60 countries perform nearly 4,000 shows, with no act turned away.

John explained that the Fringe is a magnet for comedians. As a 20-year-old studying English at Cambridge University, he felt the pull and tried his hand at stand-up. He remembered walking offstage thinking, "Oh boy, I wanna do that again right now." Bill Whitaker noted that it sounded addictive, and John agreed, saying it was absolutely addictive.

He returned year after year and headed to the Royal Mile, a picturesque cobblestone street that turns into a competitive marketplace for attention. Bill asked if he was doing this, and John confirmed that he was. When first coming up, the only way to do it was to almost beg for people to come and see you.

Now, John doesn’t have to beg. He was welcomed with open arms at a basement club where he cut his comedic teeth. During a stand-up performance, he joked, "I want you to know that I've befouled this stage so many times before, there's no guarantee this will go well." He admitted that he learned from his mistakes, starting out with many of them.

One of the worst experiences was at a tiny, 55-seat venue called Pleasance Below. John described it as his comedic Waterloo. Bill asked if he filled all the seats, and John said that all the seats were empty except for four. He intended to do an hour to four people, but things didn’t go as planned. About 10 minutes in, two people walked out, then a third, leaving one woman alone. She slowly moved her hand down to her bag, and John asked if she was leaving. She said yes, got up, and walked out, leaving just him and a sound technician. The technician asked if he wanted to keep going, and John said, "No, I think we're done here."

This experience led John to stop going for the easy laughs. He shifted his focus to making people laugh about things he cared about, particularly politics. Bill asked if it felt like a risk at the time, and John said it felt like a risk worth taking.

His approach has worked. On his weekly HBO show taped in New York City, his unique take on politics and intrinsic problems sets him apart from other comedians. He delights in revealing the absurdity in the obscure, always with a twinkle in his eye and a mischievous smile.

John has been making people laugh since he was a kid in the suburbs of Birmingham, England. His father was a school principal, and his mother a music teacher. Young John excelled as the class clown. Later, as a young comedian, he couldn't get enough of "The Daily Show." In 2006, he sent a sample of his work and was called in to try out.

During his audition tape, John riffed with Jon Stewart about the time Vice President Dick Cheney shot and injured a friend on a quail hunt. Jon asked if birds could laugh, and John responded, "Well, whatever it is that they do then. Warble. Tweet. Coo. They're cooing at us right now, Jon…" He was hired on the spot and over the next seven years showed his range. In 2013, Jon Stewart stepped away to direct a movie and tapped John Oliver to step in.

Bill asked if it felt like taking daddy's car for a joyride, and John said, "Oh yeah. That very first day the Edward Snowden news broke. And it was really fun to sit behind the steering wheel and think, 'Oh, how fast does this thing go?' Oh, pretty quick, it turns out."

His turn at the desk caught the eye of HBO, which gave him carte blanche to create his own show. He asked Tim Carvell, head writer at "The Daily Show," and comedy producer Liz Stanton to join him. They were given the 11 o'clock slot on Sunday nights.

Bill asked if that seemed like a gift or hiding him somewhere, and Tim replied that it was more of a sense of, "Oh, we're going to let some people down." John agreed, adding that it was a challenge.

John's take downs seem to delight him the most. He pounced on news reports that Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas had not disclosed lavish gifts from rich friends and a generous deal on his prized motor coach. He offered Thomas a new motor coach, plus $1 million a year out of his own pocket if Thomas would resign from the Supreme Court.

Facts are fundamental to Oliver's humor. His deep dives into serious topics are painstakingly crafted. Bill asked how he would describe his show, and John said it was a rigorously researched comedy show, both because they want it to be right and for self-preservation purposes.

Oliver's staff of 83 includes former journalists as well as comedy writers. They churn out 30 shows a year. It starts with hundreds of pages of research on each main story. The team turns those into outlines and then a script, which is tested at a table read.

Liz Stanton, the comedy producer, shared that there's a little bit of bated breath when he says the “Tonight's story is.” She added that the team loves doing the dumb stuff, even though some segments can be expensive.

Despite his focus on serious issues, John likes to close the show with something zany. He told Bill that he hopes his show speaks to some of the people who voted for Donald Trump, emphasizing that the main stories are not party political but lasting problems.

Though he highlights America's shortcomings, John fell in love with the country as soon as he immigrated. He's now a U.S. citizen who married an Iraq War veteran. He believes that criticizing something doesn't mean you don't love it; it means you want it to get better.

John remains passionate about his work, despite the challenges. He said that as long as America has systemic problems, he'll be there poking fun at them.