In the glittering chaos of late-night television, where punchlines fly faster than network executives’ memos, Jimmy Kimmel has always been the cheeky provocateur willing to poke the bear—or in this case, the former president with an unquenchable thirst for revenge. After a contentious six-day suspension that sent shockwaves through the industry, “Jimmy Kimmel Live!” didn’t just return to the airwaves; it decamped to Brooklyn for its annual “Brooklyn Week,” transforming the borough’s historic Brooklyn Academy of Music into a fortress of satire and celebrity cameos. Kicking off on September 29 with A-list guests Ryan Reynolds and Stephen “Late Show” Colbert, the week-long extravaganza has already racked up record ratings and reignited the eternal feud between late-night hosts and Donald Trump.

This seventh installment of Brooklyn Week—Kimmel’s East Coast ritual since 2019—arrives at a pivotal moment for the 57-year-old host. What began as a lighthearted tradition of trading Hollywood’s palm trees for Brooklyn’s brownstones has evolved into a symbol of resilience. Taped at the Howard Gilman Opera House, the shows air weeknights at 11:35 p.m. ET on ABC, drawing crowds that spill onto the streets of Fort Greene. But this year’s edition feels electric, charged by the raw aftermath of Kimmel’s suspension and a lineup boasting Reynolds’ Deadpool-esque wit, Colbert’s deadpan erudition, and surprise drops from fellow hosts like Seth Meyers.

To understand the stakes, rewind to mid-September. On the September 15 episode of “Jimmy Kimmel Live!,” Kimmel unleashed a monologue that blended his signature blend of absurdity and outrage. Discussing the tragic assassination of conservative firebrand Charlie Kirk—gunned down in a politically charged attack allegedly by a deranged stalker named Tyler Robinson—Kimmel quipped about the killer’s motives in a way that crossed into the profane. “If you’re going to take out a guy like Kirk, at least make it count,” he joked, pivoting into a broader riff on gun violence and political hypocrisy. The line landed like a grenade in a confessional.

Backlash was swift and savage. Sinclair Broadcast Group, the largest ABC affiliate owner, deemed the remarks “inappropriate and deeply insensitive,” with vice chairman Jason Smith publicly condemning them as glorifying violence. Nexstar Media, controlling 32 ABC stations, followed suit, pulling the show indefinitely on September 17. Even the FCC, under chair Brendan Carr—a Trump ally—hinted at investigations, fueling whispers of censorship. Disney, ABC’s parent company, suspended production for six days, citing “prior obligations” but facing accusations of buckling under pressure from right-wing affiliates. Trump, never one to miss a grudge match, crowed on Truth Social: “Kimmel’s show is CANCELLED! Finally, some good news!”

Kimmel, ever the fighter, responded with a measured social media post offering condolences to Kirk’s family and decrying gun violence as a national tragedy. “My words were ill-timed and hurtful—no one should die like that, and I send love to all affected,” he wrote, striking a rare somber note amid the frenzy. Behind the scenes, the hiatus was a pressure cooker. Writers scrambled to rework scripts, while Kimmel fielded calls from peers like Colbert, who used his own monologue to rally: “Jimmy’s the only martyr in late night—unless CBS has more announcements,” a sly nod to his own show’s impending 2026 axe.

The return on September 23 was a ratings bonanza. “Jimmy Kimmel Live!” notched its highest viewership in a decade, spiking 64% in key demos despite lingering affiliate boycotts from Sinclair and Nexstar. By September 26, the show aired nationwide for the first time since the scandal, a quiet victory lap. Critics hailed it as a testament to Kimmel’s enduring appeal: part everyman, part edge-lord, all unfiltered. “Jimmy doesn’t apologize for being human,” one Variety analyst noted. “In an era of sanitized comedy, that’s revolutionary.”

Enter Brooklyn Week, stage right. The opener on September 29 was pure Kimmel: irreverent, star-studded, and unapologetically New York. Guests included Ryan Reynolds, the Canadian charmer whose Aviation Gin empire rivals his superhero swagger, comedian Josh Johnson (fresh off his “The Daily Show” correspondent gig), and hip-hop legends Public Enemy—Chuck D and Flavor Flav bringing ’90s fire to the monologue’s back half. Reynolds, promoting his latest Netflix thriller, traded barbs with Kimmel over fatherhood fails and Deadpool’s R-rated resurrection. “Jimmy, if you suspended me for a week, I’d come back as Deadpool 4: Electric Boogaloo,” Reynolds quipped, eliciting roars from the crowd.

But the real monologue magic? Kimmel’s surgical strikes on Trump. Fresh off the ex-prez’s bizarre order to declassify Amelia Earhart’s disappearance files— a July 1937 mystery Trump tied to “deep state cover-ups”—Kimmel deadpanned: “The president’s been hard at work distracting us from the Epstein files. Unless her final flight was to Epstein’s island, no one cares. At least he made it to the E’s—that’s progress!” He skewered the Mets’ playoff woes, NYC Mayor Eric Adams’ fedora fashion, and VP JD Vance’s couch conundrums, weaving in a nod to his suspension: “We had to go on the run so the FCC couldn’t catch us. Brooklyn’s our Alamo.”

Tuesday’s episode upped the ante with Stephen Colbert, turning the night into a late-night summit. The “Late Show” host, whose own program faces cancellation amid Paramount’s Skydance merger, crossed enemy lines for a mutual roast session. Kimmel guested on Colbert’s show simultaneously, creating a trans-show telepathy that baffled and delighted viewers. But the coup de grâce? Seth Meyers’ unannounced cameo. The “Late Night” alum crashed the Brooklyn taping, joining Kimmel and Colbert for an Instagram photo-op captioned “Hi Donald!”—a direct troll echoing their 2023 “Strike Force Five” podcast alliance.

The trio’s backstage banter, leaked via Meyers’ brother Josh (JKL’s Gavin Newsom impersonator), was gold: Colbert deadpanned about Trump’s “Who cares?” White House retort, while Kimmel fired back, “Love you Stephen. F— you and all your Sheldons, CBS.” Hashtag #StrikeForceQuorum trended worldwide, amassing 2.3 million impressions overnight. Trump, predictably, erupted on social media: “These LOSERS are jealous of my HUGE success! Kimmel’s next!” Yet, the photo—a smirking triad against Brooklyn’s skyline—went viral, symbolizing late-night’s united front against political absurdity.

The week’s momentum builds. Wednesday featured Emily Blunt, channeling her “Oppenheimer” poise into tales of directing husband John Krasinski’s next project. Thursday doubles down with “The Bear” heartthrob Jeremy Allen White and Boss Bruce Springsteen, whose Jersey roots promise a Springsteen-Kimmel jam session for the ages. Friday caps it with Tom Hanks, the everyman icon whose “Forrest Gump” wisdom might just unpack the suspension saga. Public Enemy’s return adds cultural heft, nodding to Brooklyn’s hip-hop heritage.

Beyond the glamour, Brooklyn Week underscores late-night’s precarious ecosystem. With Colbert’s ax looming and Kimmel’s affiliates still skittish, these episodes aren’t just entertainment—they’re defiance. Ratings have surged 40% week-over-week, proving audiences crave authenticity over algorithms. As Kimmel told backstage crew, “We didn’t build this show to whisper. Suspension or not, we’re here to howl.”

In a divided America, where comedy is currency and controversy is kindling, Kimmel’s Brooklyn blitz reminds us: Laughter isn’t just medicine—it’s munitions. As the week winds down, one thing’s clear: Jimmy Kimmel isn’t just back. He’s unbreakable.