Translation: NBC scared the crap out of the independently-owned station by threatening to yank its network affiliation, and probably by explaining the likely fate of unaffiliated channels in the age of Hulu and Netflix and podcasting and iTunes.

Then Leno probably played the good cop with a friendly, awkward phone call to the owner, who told Broadcasting & Cable,

Jay is from Andover where I went to school. I enjoy his humor. We hope the new show is a big success.

Translation: We'll revisit this issue after the ratings implode, like we predicted. But here's to hoping against hope.

The same owner said previously the show would be "very adverse to our finances." So if Leno fails he could ruin this station, and humiliate his NBC bosses (especially Ben Silverman) to boot. No pressure, Jay!

[Broadcasting & Cable]

The affiliate is the Tonight Show host's hometown station, as Nikki Fincke points out. (Leno was born in New Rochelle, New York but grew up in Andover, Massachusetts, part of the Boston TV market.)

NBC's New York suits are threatening to stab the affiliate, WHDH, in the throat, i.e. to strip the station's network affiliation and to buy NBC's own slice of the Boston airwaves. The station, meanwhile, insists it has a clause in its affiliate contract allowing the move, and its owner told the Boston Globe Leno would be "very adverse to our finances."

The network needs to make an example of the station: According to Variety, several affiliates are nervous about Leno's new show.

Poor Jay. NBC colleague Conan O'Brien fumed at him; rival David Letterman mocked him and now a TV station is accusing him of trying to put it out of business, in a recession. On the bright side, for Leno at least, expectations couldn't be lower. As long as his show doesn't kill anyone, make anyone homeless or give anyone a disease in its first, say, month, it can be fairly called an unexpected success.

The biggest weakness on the show is relatively easy to fix: Crowd control. The rowdy studio audience was way too pumped up, interrupting Fallon to cheer their home states (why do late show audiences always do this?) and to ruin one of his jokes with a well-timed "yeaaaaah!"

Also, the audience microphones were up way too loud; TV viewers could clearly hear chatter and exhaling noises between Fallon's jokes.

Fallon also needs work on his interview skills. His sit-down with Robert DeNiro, for example, was pretty awful. DeNiro barely got a word in edgewise as Fallon defined "Tribeca," told a pointless story about another celebrity (Jack Nicholson), recounted a pedestrian joke DeNiro made on email and at one point said, "I don't know what I'm asking." (DeNiro's laconic manner was maybe part of a meta-joke about how he doesn't talk? It was still awkward.)

The skit "lick it for $10," in which studio audience members lick products made by (we're guessing) show sponsors was a total write-off even though it followed the first commercial break — a prime piece of show real estate.

Picking these sorts of nits is, again, too easy with a brand-new host. On the bright side:

• The news "slow jam," performed with The Roots, was inspired. It looks like Fallon plans to make heavy use of his excellent house band, which should keep the show interesting and lively.
• Fallon imitated DeNiro to his face. It wasn't a great impersonation, but being willing to make an utter fool out of yourself can come in handy for a late-night host.
  
• The monologue felt vaguely Weekend Update-y, which is good in the sense that there were at least two really solid jokes. Fallon just needs to slow down from the fast delivery customary at Saturday Night Live's fake news desk
• Pushing Justin Timberlake to make fun of other singers shows good instincts. Good luck trying to get other celebrities to play ball with that sort of concept.
• The opening skit with Conan O'Brien was great, but Fallon has to share credit with his predecessor.

Maybe it was a lack of preparation. Cultural insensitivity. Or maybe Seacrest is just getting tired of this sort of work. In any case, he was off his game. Examples:

Weird foreign kids who don't speak English confound poor Seacrest

What was Seacrest thinking? He was unprepared to read the names of some Indian kids from the cast of Slumdog Millionaire. The logical thing to do, then, would be to ask each child to quickly say his or her name. Instead, he briefly held an illegible piece of paper up to the camera. Then he asked the disappointed kids to all shout their names at once. They wisely ignored him.

There was some awkwardness over English, which some of the kids did not speak, and which Seacrest made them feel pretty much as terrible as possible about. (After we posted about this last night, commenters pointed us toward the other Seacrest flubs.)

Seacrest asks whether Slumdog cast real-live SLUM-DWELLERS

The host was fascinated that director Danny Boyle used actual slumdogs or whatever. Boyle reminded him that they try to think of the poor kids as normal human beings instead of total freaks. Then his eyes asked if Seacrest couldn't do the same.

Seacrest asks Marisa Tomei where she's been the past 15 years

Yes, she's made movies since My Cousin Vinny, Ryan. Dig the death stare at the end.

The red-carpet interviewer tried to get everyone to shout their foreign and strange and difficult long names at the same time, a futile effort. "That didn't go well," he said. Indeed! Nor did the next thing.

But then Seacrest was quiet for a little while and let the kids talk, to adorable effect, thus rescuing the moment. Clip above.

(NB to Seacrest: Next time an Indian film is widely favored to win Best Picture, maybe brush up on those tricky South Asian pronunciations.)

While appearing on last night's Tonight Show, a wary Duchovny did his damnedest to avoid any potentially tumescent lines of conversation, yet every time he backed away, he found himself stepping into a new pile of "that's what she said"-level innuendo. Of particular interest to Jay Leno (and Tea Leoni's lawyers) was the onetime designation of Duchovny as "head boy," a one-innocent schoolboy title that loses some of its rakish flavor each time a 48-year-old Duchovny uses it at the craft services table to open up a double entendre-filled conversation with a hot background extra named "Misty." [The Tonight Show]