Matt Damon, Jimmy Kimmel

When Matt Damon burst onto the Jimmy Kimmel Live! stage Friday night dressed as a neon-green New York mascot named “Frankie Focus,” the audience had no idea they were about to witness the latest twist in one of Hollywood’s longest-running fake feuds.

The crowd roared as the mascot hurled insults at Kimmel — calling him “dumb” and claiming he looked like “they dragged Jimmy Fallon out of the Gowanus Canal.” When Kimmel demanded the performer take off the furry headpiece, the reveal was immediate chaos: it was Damon, grinning ear to ear, basking in the crowd’s cheers.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Kimmel deadpanned, “the worst person alive.”

Thus began another chapter in a 23-year comedic rivalry that’s as enduring as it is ridiculous — a friendship disguised as a feud, and a recurring sketch that’s become one of the most beloved running gags in late-night history.

The Setup: Brooklyn, Mascots, and Mockery

The timing couldn’t have been better. Kimmel was closing out his weeklong run of Jimmy Kimmel Live! tapings in Brooklyn, an annual tradition that brings the show back to Kimmel’s East Coast roots. The week already featured late-night heavyweights like Stephen Colbert and Seth Meyers, and Thursday’s surprise drop-in from Jon Stewart had set a high bar.

So when the show’s finale opened with a supposed promotional appearance from “Frankie Focus” — a neon-green mascot supposedly encouraging New York schools to ban smartphones — nobody suspected the joke was just getting started.

The segment quickly went off the rails as “Frankie” launched into a series of personal digs at Kimmel, who fired back with escalating irritation until the big reveal. The moment Damon tore off the mask, the Brooklyn crowd exploded into laughter, and Kimmel muttered, “Oh, for the love of God.”

The Feud That Never Dies

The Damon-Kimmel feud dates back to 2005, when Kimmel began ending episodes of Jimmy Kimmel Live! with the offhanded sign-off: “Apologies to Matt Damon, we ran out of time.”

The gag — reportedly improvised after a rough taping — caught on instantly. Fans loved the absurdity of imagining A-list actor Matt Damon being perpetually bumped. Kimmel kept it up night after night, until it became a staple of the show.

Over the years, the faux rivalry blossomed into something of a comedy institution:

2008: Sarah Silverman, Kimmel’s then-girlfriend, dropped the Emmy-winning viral video “I’m F**ing Matt Damon”*, with Damon playing himself in mock sincerity.

2009: Kimmel responded with his own star-studded rebuttal video, “I’m F**ing Ben Affleck,”* featuring half of Hollywood.

2013: Damon “hijacked” an episode of Jimmy Kimmel Live!, tying Kimmel to a chair and hosting the entire show himself, complete with guests like Nicole Kidman, Reese Witherspoon, and Amy Adams.

2023: The feud reignited on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?, where Damon and Kimmel traded barbs as Damon and Ken Jennings won $1 million for charity.

Now, nearly two decades later, their bit still lands — a masterclass in staying power for two entertainers who understand that the best running jokes are the ones that never resolve.

Brooklyn’s Perfect Backdrop

Kimmel’s Brooklyn shows always carry a special energy. Filmed at the Brooklyn Academy of Music, the weeklong runs give the late-night series a looser, more nostalgic tone — a homecoming of sorts for the Brooklyn-born host.

This year’s edition was particularly loaded. Guests included Stephen Colbert, Seth Meyers, and Jon Stewart — three of Kimmel’s closest late-night peers and frequent political allies. For Damon to close out the week felt fitting: the comedian’s favorite “enemy” returning to give the final word in a week full of friendly crossovers.

The Brooklyn audience leaned into it, booing Damon good-naturedly as he claimed he had only come to say “goodbye” to Kimmel on his “last show ever.”

When Kimmel corrected him — reminding him that ABC hadn’t, in fact, cancelled his show — Damon shrugged. “The president cancelled you — which I was a big fan of, by the way!”

“Is there some kind of appeals process?” he added, milking the joke for all it was worth.

The Art of the Faux Feud

What makes the Kimmel-Damon rivalry work, after all these years, is its commitment. Unlike other celebrity “beefs,” this one never turns mean-spirited. Each installment finds new absurdity in their dynamic — Damon’s faux exasperation, Kimmel’s feigned contempt — both men playing exaggerated versions of themselves with pitch-perfect timing.

Television critic David Bianculli once called their banter “the last great running bit of the broadcast late-night era.” And he might be right. As the late-night landscape continues to evolve — with Stephen Colbert’s Late Show winding down and Jimmy Fallon leaning away from edgy material — the Kimmel-Damon routine feels like a reminder of how longform comedic storytelling can still thrive on network TV.

Behind the Curtain: The Friendship

Despite the mock hostility, the two are genuine friends. Damon attended Kimmel’s wedding in 2013, and the pair have often been spotted together at public events. Their wives are friends, their kids know each other, and their chemistry is authentic precisely because it’s rooted in real affection.

It’s the same kind of comedic trust that once fueled duos like David Letterman and Bill Murray or Conan O’Brien and Will Ferrell — where the guest becomes part of the show’s mythology, not just another interviewee.

Off-screen, Damon has praised Kimmel as one of the sharpest live performers in late night. Kimmel, for his part, routinely calls Damon “a wonderful actor and a terrible person,” smiling every time.

A Late-Night Lifeline

For Kimmel, Damon’s return also carried strategic value. In a season defined by turbulence — from his brief suspension to the resurgence of competing hosts — moments like this reinforce Kimmel’s reputation as late night’s most adaptable veteran.

Colbert may dominate the ratings, and Fallon may have the TikTok-friendly sketches, but Kimmel has built something rarer: a format flexible enough to oscillate between political satire and pure comedy chaos.

And in the middle of a week that saw cameos from Colbert, Meyers, and Stewart, Damon’s arrival provided the perfect finale — a crowd-pleasing capstone to a Brooklyn residency that celebrated both Kimmel’s resilience and his roots.

The Lasting Legacy of a Joke

Few late-night jokes survive two decades. Even fewer grow richer with age. But the Kimmel-Damon feud has transcended its origins as a throwaway sign-off. It’s now a shared cultural reference point — the kind of bit that’s funny even to people who’ve never watched the show.

It represents something enduring about late-night television itself: the ability to build community through recurring humor, to turn repetition into ritual.

For younger viewers, it’s also a crash course in how TV once built mythology week by week — not through viral one-offs, but through continuity and commitment.

Closing Thoughts

When Matt Damon ripped off the “Frankie Focus” mascot head and Kimmel rolled his eyes on the Brooklyn stage, it wasn’t just another celebrity cameo. It was the continuation of a story 23 years in the making — one that has outlived countless media trends, network shakeups, and internet cycles.

“Some people say the feud is fake,” Kimmel quipped, glaring at Damon as the crowd roared. “But the hate is real.”

And that’s the secret of their brilliance: keeping the line between truth and fiction deliciously blurry.

In an era where late-night TV often feels precarious, the Damon-Kimmel rivalry remains something rare — a reliable constant, a running gag that unites fans across generations.

The feud may be fake. The laughter, though, is still very, very real.