TIME magazine has released its highly anticipated annual list of the year’s 100 most influential people, typically a grab-bag of who’s been in the news, for better or for worse.
For example, this year’s edition includes Trump, daughter Ivanka, and son-in-law Jared Kushner, despot Steve Bannon, and dictator Kim Jong-Un — but it also applauds icons like Drag Race host RuPaul, gymnast Simone Biles, actor / rapper Riz Ahmed, and, for some reason, Suicide Squad star Margot Robbie.
And, there are quite a few comics on there, too, which is only natural in a year where satirical responses to incomprehensible current events have been one of the few things keeping us all from total, daily panic.
Among TIME‘s list of influential people are Saturday Night Live star Leslie Jones, Full Frontal host Samantha Bee, Atlanta creator Donald Glover, Late Late Show host James Corden, and record-breaking Get Out director Jordan Peele.
Each name on the list is accompanied by a loving profile, penned by a colleague in their field, and this year’s crop are particularly great (and reposted in full below), including a poetic ode to Jones from actor Russell Crowe and an elegy to Corden from fellow Brit Elton John.
You can see all 100 nominees on TIME‘s site.
Jane Curtin on Samantha Bee
Oh, how I love Samantha Bee! She is a tiny package of fire and kittens. She purrs and she burns. She can run with the boys and doesn’t have to wear an industrial-strength bra. And as the host of TBS’s Full Frontal With Samantha Bee, she has given voice to all the women who have wanted to take on the political establishment—women like me.
But unlike me, she has the courage and the ability to plant those little feet, lean just slightly into the camera and fire off a staggering spray of machine-gun bullet points laced with delicious asides for color. She is as smart as a whip and, as far as I’m concerned, always on the side of right and funny. Did I say she was smart? Because she really is.
I recently saw her on an old episode of Law & Order. And damn if she wasn’t good in that too!
Of The Exorcist, James Baldwin once wrote, “I was most concerned with the audience. I wondered what they were seeing, and what it meant to them.” Sitting in a crowded theater, I wonder the same as I take in Jordan Peele’s astonishing Get Out. In the shifting laughter lacing the room, at once rancorous, nervous, defensive and, yes, knowing, a cinema maxim is turned on its head—rather than presenting us a mirror, this multi-hyphenate auteurist shows us more of ourselves than we ever wanted to see, a window through which America is left no choice but to recognize the purgatory of her own sunken place.
This isn’t new for Jordan. Alongside Keegan-Michael Key of Key & Peele, he’s used comedy to shed light on the murky detritus of American exceptionalism for years. With the success of Get Out, it’s clear he’ll do so for many more.
And while I won’t quote Baldwin again, of this I’m sure: he would have loved this film. As well as its maker. As the audience tenses around me, Baldwin’s dictum rings true: Jordan Peele is America. And she is him.
For years, James Corden has been a beloved part of British pop culture. By the time he started his career in America, James had written and co-starred in his own hugely popular TV series. In fact, James’ first ever version of “Carpool Karaoke” took place in London in 2011 with my dear friend, the late George Michael.
When he began hosting The Late Late Show in 2015, most Americans still had no idea who he was. But it wasn’t long before he skyrocketed to fame in the U.S., too. It took just over a year for James’ show to be nominated for four Emmy Awards. He then went on to host the Tony Awards and the Grammy Awards. He has also Carpool Karaoke’d with Adele, Lady Gaga, myself and more.
James is one of the most hardworking and talented people you will ever meet. But that alone doesn’t explain his extraordinary success. Anyone—friends and fans alike—can tell you that James doesn’t take himself, or others, too seriously. And that’s why he’s able to make us laugh, cry and sing—sometimes all at once.
His authenticity has allowed him to shape pop culture in an incredible way. We can expect to see more of James in the coming years—and that’s a wonderful thing for television, comedy and humanity.
She’s a tiger.
She’s a lioness.
She’s a pussycat.
It wasn’t just the comedy that drew me close to Leslie Jones. Although her brand—edgy, insightful and honest—is the kind I lean to.
It wasn’t just the bonhomie, the easy friendship and the shared sense of gratitude.
It wasn’t just the beauty, though it radiates from her unchecked.
It was, in fact, the kindness, the thoughtfulness and the way she owns all of who she is.
She stalks the audience from the stage and in front of the cameras. Like the comedy greats throughout history, she’s there to give, and what she is prepared to give is all of who she is.
All the absurdity and pathos of being human. All the joy of having a heart that big. She’s going to be the person who says out loud what you were thinking, when you didn’t even realize you thought like that.
Yes, it was Leslie Jones who drew me close to Leslie Jones.
When Donald Glover started as a staff writer on 30 Rock, he was still living as an RA in a dorm at New York University. He worked hard and contributed a lot of good jokes. After a few years, he requested a meeting with me and fellow producer Robert Carlock. Donald was grateful for the opportunity but felt like he should leave to pursue acting. Of the many writers who have suggested this over the past 20 years, Donald is the only one with whom I’ve ever agreed. One hundred percent, he should go be a star.
Now Donald is serving you best-case-scenario millennial realness. He embodies his generation’s belief that people can be whatever they want and change what it is they want, at any time. When you’re tired of starring in a network comedy, take a break to pursue your rap career for a Grammy nomination. When you’ve learned all you can from acting in other people’s movies, sit down and create your own piece of art.
This could have easily presented itself as a clothing line or one really good painting. Instead, Donald gave us Atlanta, a TV series that is basically him: funny, beautiful, stylish, melancholy and startlingly confident.
But as any good millennial knows, when your creation wins 10-plus major awards, you don’t rush into Season 2. You step back, take a breath and just, like, be Lando Calrissian or something.
