The CBS late-night host takes on toxic comedy culture—and possibly CBS itself—in one of network TV’s boldest episodes this year

In a world where fiction so often mirrors reality, Elsbeth may have just pulled off one of the most daring moments in recent network television. The Season 3 premiere of the CBS procedural comedy-drama, which aired Friday night in a special launch before resuming its regular Thursday timeslot on October 16, delivered a familiar twist: a quirky murder, a star-studded cast, and a signature dose of social satire. But this time, the meta-commentary was impossible to miss—and it was delivered with a wink, a knife, and a character not-so-loosely modeled on a real person: Stephen Colbert himself.

The Late Show host doesn’t technically play himself on Elsbeth—but he may as well be. In the premiere, Colbert stars as Scotty Bristol, the temperamental and tyrannical host of Way Late With Scotty Bristol, a fictional late-night talk show set in New York. He’s brilliant, he’s unbearable, and—within 15 minutes of the episode’s start—he’s also very dead.

This appearance would’ve been noteworthy on its own, given Colbert’s real-world stature at CBS. But in light of recent events—including the announcement that The Late Show with Stephen Colbert will end in May 2026—it becomes something more: a satirical send-up, a pointed commentary, and, depending on how you read it, a sly bit of revenge served cold.

More Than Just a Murder Mystery

Elsbeth, which stars Carrie Preston as the eccentric legal savant Elsbeth Tascioni, has never been shy about dipping into social critique beneath its whimsical veneer. Created by The Good Wife and The Good Fight showrunners Robert and Michelle King—known for their uncanny ability to write plotlines that anticipate real-world headlines—the series blends a “cozy murder” format with razor-sharp, often prophetic, satire.

This week’s premiere, titled “Yes, And…”, takes direct aim at the late-night television industry and its increasingly turbulent political and professional climate. And its central mystery—a toxic boss, a silenced staff, and a killer hiding in plain sight—is a mirror not just of television tropes, but of the real-world tensions inside media institutions today.

In the episode, Colbert’s Scotty Bristol is the worst kind of showbiz tyrant: cruel to his staff, dismissive of mental health concerns, and secure in the knowledge that his fame protects him from consequences. When he refuses to grant sick leave to a longtime staffer (played by Andy Richter) and mocks him in front of the entire team, his co-producer and former improv troupe partner (Amy Sedaris) retaliates in the deadliest possible way.

“Do it Twice in One Week—I’m Fine!”

What makes Colbert’s performance so rich is how comfortably he leans into self-parody—and how closely the fiction overlaps with recent headlines.

Speaking to Preston on The Late Show on September 25, Colbert jokingly praised the Elsbeth writers for casting him in the role. “It looks like your writers have the biggest balls in the world to have me on and murder me,” he said, grinning. “Do it twice in one week—I’m fine!”

The episode was filmed just days after the official announcement that The Late Show would be ending in 2026, amid rumors of corporate friction between Colbert and CBS parent company Paramount. The backdrop? Paramount’s controversial $16 million legal settlement with President Donald Trump—an agreement Colbert famously mocked on-air in July as “a big fat bribe.”

The timing of the settlement was key: Paramount required regulatory approval from the FCC to finalize its merger with Skydance Media, and critics—including Colbert himself—suggested that the payout was more about political expedience than legal necessity. That jab reportedly ruffled feathers at the corporate level, and by August, the writing was on the wall: The Late Show would not be renewed beyond next season.

So when Colbert appears in Elsbeth as a fictional host who gets literally axed after years of bullying his staff and abusing his platform, it reads less like a network cameo—and more like an elaborate, deliciously ironic middle finger.

The Satire Behind the Smile

To be clear, the episode doesn’t explicitly reference CBS or Colbert’s real-life situation. This is, after all, Elsbeth, a show that lives in the same heightened universe as The Good Fight and delights in its lawyerly wordplay and genre subversion.

But the metaphors land hard and fast. When Way Late With Scotty Bristol is preempted due to its host’s murder, Elsbeth quips, “Oh no, what happened? Is it Greenland?”—a reference to Trump’s infamous desire to buy the island during his first term. When detectives interview stand-up comics and joke writers, they discover a toxic culture of joke theft, hazing, and workplace abuse that few dare question, because, as one writer deadpans, “We’re just grateful to have a job.”

In one of the episode’s sharpest moments, Sedaris’s character justifies the murder by citing the unchecked power of “the brand.” “He wasn’t funny anymore,” she says, “but they kept him on because he was the name on the coffee mugs.”

It’s funny until it’s not. Especially when it hits a little too close to home.

Colbert Isn’t Alone

Colbert’s satirical murder isn’t happening in a vacuum. His appearance on Elsbeth comes during a season of turmoil for late-night television.

In September, Jimmy Kimmel was suspended for six days by ABC following a controversial monologue in which he addressed the assassination of conservative commentator Charlie Kirk. Critics accused the network of caving to political pressure, and the backlash turned into a larger debate about censorship and satire in the post-Trump, second-term media environment.

Even beyond network television, satirists and late-night personalities have been targeted with defamation suits, boycotts, and pressure campaigns. From John Oliver to Seth Meyers, the lines between comedy and commentary have never felt more fragile.

Within that landscape, Colbert’s Elsbeth appearance plays like a release valve. He’s doing what he’s always done—weaponizing comedy against power—even if, this time, the power in question may be closer to home than ever before.

“This Business”

The episode ends as Elsbeth always does—with justice served, but not without compromise. The murderer is caught, but the show she helped produce goes on. No one’s really shocked. No one expects anything to change.

“It’s a hostile work environment, but we’re all just so grateful to have a job,” one of the writers says toward the end of the hour. It’s a throwaway line, but it’s also the episode’s thesis—and maybe the thesis of Elsbeth as a whole.

“This business,” another character sighs, repeating the phrase heard throughout the episode.

And in those two words—resigned, tired, true—we hear the voice of every person who has ever worked in entertainment, politics, or any industry where power and creativity collide.

A Meaningful Goodbye

Whether Colbert will return to Elsbeth in future episodes is unknown (though we’re betting not—he’s dead, after all). But his guest role will stand as one of the series’ most memorable and subversive episodes to date.

It’s not just that he got to play a character so clearly inspired by his own persona—it’s that he used the opportunity to reflect on the state of the industry, the fragility of power, and the cost of speaking out.

Robert and Michelle King have long been known for predicting headlines. This time, they didn’t have to predict anything. The headlines were already written.

All they had to do was cast the right person, sharpen the knives, and roll camera.