The Dick Cavett Show

I remember being a kid and how ABC, which was our “channel 2,” never came in clearly. The picture was snowy, but I still recall catching glimpses of The Dick Cavett Show. Of course, I also remember Johnny Carson—he and Cavett were the two big talk show hosts of the time. While it might be sacrilegious to say, I always favored Cavett over Carson. Even as a kid, Cavett seemed more interesting.

The Dick Cavett Show on ABC was a smart alternative to The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. Cavett frequently booked intellectuals and gave them time for extended, in-depth conversations. You truly got to know his guests—he took more than 10 minutes, unlike the rushed format of today. There were no distractions, no flashy sets, just meaningful conversations. That was the key: Cavett didn’t just interview his guests… he had real conversations with them. No gimmicky skits, just an authentic exchange.

Cavett had his critics. Some called him a snob, a name-dropper, or too controversial. All three were true—and I loved it. Yes, he went to Yale, and yes, he dropped names. But honestly, if I’d spent time with people like Groucho Marx, I’d name-drop too. Cavett’s guest list was legendary: John Lennon, Jimi Hendrix, Katharine Hepburn, Bette Davis, and so many more. He embraced the counterculture, but he also joked about the counterculture, staying balanced in his approach. In modern times, Conan O’Brien and David Letterman came closest to that spirit…and Charlie Rose as far as having conversations. 

One of Cavett’s trademarks was his unique mix of guests. Where else would you see Janis Joplin, Raquel Welch, and Gloria Swanson sharing the same stage? His early 1970s ABC show was the pinnacle of his career. When he booked a rare or special guest, he often dedicated the entire episode to them. Bette Davis and Katharine Hepburn each had an entire show to themselves. Can you imagine that happening today? Is it because today’s stars aren’t as compelling, or has the audience’s attention span shrunk too much to appreciate such depth?

Cavett also thrived on risk. He hosted Norman Mailer and Gore Vidal, who famously clashed, and another episode featured Salvador Dalí, Lillian Gish, and Satchel Paige. These combinations were bold, and they worked. Even Johnny Carson admitted that Cavett was the only talk show host who could’ve seriously challenged him, though ABC’s third-place standing in the network race kept Cavett from overtaking Carson’s dominance.

This isn’t a knock on Johnny at all—his show set the blueprint for today’s talk shows. But Cavett offered something different: a smarter, more thoughtful experience. Watching his episodes now feels like opening a time capsule. While some moments are tied to their time, much of it remains timeless. Hearing from legends like Marlon Brando and Katharine Hepburn, who rarely did talk shows, is especially fascinating.

It wasn’t one of those “Hi, my name is Miss/Mr. So-and-So, my favorite color is blue, and goodbye until next time I have something to promote” situations. With Dick Cavett, you really got to know the person. He had a knack for drawing out something truly interesting. My favorite interview is the one with George Harrison. It didn’t seem promising at first—George wasn’t particularly eager to be on any show at the time—but Dick managed to get him to open up. You could see Cavett’s relief when George finally warmed up. This interview, which came right after John and Yoko’s appearance, turned out to be one of George’s best.

Here are some YouTube comments for these older talk shows:

I’m amazed when I go back and watch interviews from older talk shows, because it’s more quiet and the celebrity hosts and celebrity guests actually engage in authentic conversation with pure respect.

Jimmy Fallon should watch this video. No stupid laughing constantly, no sound effects and no fake laughter from the host. Just a meaningful conversation

Man no wonder podcasts have taken over. This interview was far more interesting and informative than any late night tv interview we get these days.