SUCCESSFUL "tonight-show" hosts often behave like the manic sovereigns of some demented kingdom. Their shows resemble personality cults, with the audience in the role of worshipful subjects. Consider the slavering interplay between The Late Show’s Dave Letterman and his kowtowing band leader Paul Shaffer.

Letterman appears to fancy himself King Lear to Shaffer’s Fool. But it’s the audience members that look the biggest fools. When Letterman cracks one of his interminable jokes, the poor schlemiels laugh and clap with such fanaticism, it’s as if they’re the hysterical victims of mass hypnosis.

The idea of a tonight show is ridiculously hackneyed and harks back to the initial fumbling days of television, but somehow Rove Live manages to inject this creaky convention with enough energy to make you forget you’ve seen it all before. The Rove members of the audience appear relaxed and don’t come over as brainwashed votaries. And unlike Letterman, Rove McManus rarely wallows in positive self-regard.

McManus seems genuinely amused by his own popularity. His interplay with Peter Helliar, his multi-purpose comic, is as amusingly risque as anything you’d see on ABC’s intermittently hilarious The Glass House.

In a recent skit, McManus impersonated Prime Minister John Howard (a favourite target), with Helliar playing journalist. "How was your trip to America, Mr Howard?" Helliar asked. "Great," responded McManus in a dead-on impersonation, "I had a threesome with George Bush and Tony Blair. They made me take off my underpants, but they kept theirs on."

Rove has enjoyed a dream run on Ten since 2000. The show, like the network itself, clearly covets the younger demographic. This, as much as cross-promotion, helps explain why McManus likes to interview evicted Big Brother housemates.

Surely Big Brother is just an awkward phase teenagers go through? But the former housemates appear on Rove as if they matter. Real celebrity guests on Rove include pop culture figures such as Pink or Rihanna. If you’re over 35, you’re likely not to know or care who they are. Even so, it’s sometimes worth watching just to see what the kids are into these days.

McManus is more fun when he interviews guests such as actor Sir Anthony Hopkins, deadpan comic Steven Wright, and Buffy creator Joss Whedon. He doesn’t embarrass himself by sucking up, and although he’s no Clive James, his interviewing skills are more sophisticated than you’d expect from a variety show host. His conversation with Rebecca Gibney about ageing and the uses and abuses of cosmetic surgery was witty and revealing.

Hosting a successful tonight show is no easy business - just ask Mick Molloy or Shaun Micallef, two considerable talents who tried their hand and were axed before the paint dried on their sets. It’s not enough for a host to be funny or outrageous, or for the program to have a slick formula.

For such a show to endure, it’s vital the host presents an agreeable persona that straddles the line between outre and respectability. McManus is cheeky without being scandalous. More importantly, given that the show is carefully scripted and awash with publicity protocol, he manages to appear spontaneous.

Again, by contrast, Letterman, who is probably the most famous tonight-show host on Earth, has become so jaded and perfunctory, it’s hard to watch him without feeling your life force being sucked away.

Such has been McManus’ success that, along with winning three gold Logies, he has often been described as "the next Graham Kennedy", an accolade that must be Australian TV’s highest praise and most empty honour. Along with success comes the predictable disparagement. This year he won a Fugly award as "Australia’s all-time most overrated TV star".

At just 32, the diminutive McManus is an industry giant, a millionaire with his own show and his own production company, Roving Enterprises. He’s also the producer of Before the Game and the ARIA Awards. You’d imagine McManus is too busy laughing all the way to the bank to give a hoot in hell about the odd lambasting.

The real question is how long can Rove serve up the same basic formula before it goes stale and loses viewer support? Mind you, Australian viewers can be deeply loyal to shows they like - In Melbourne Tonight ran 18 years, The Don Lane Show ran for eight, and we’re still watching specials about them.

On a recent Rove, McManus joked that in three years his success would probably dry up and he’d become "a nobody" again - a fate he seemed to find thrillingly absurd. For the time being, he is unlikely to have to go find a real job. He looks like he’s having fun, and as long as that remains the case, so will his viewers.

Rove Live screens Tuesdays at 9.30pm on Ten.