Cast profile

Ezra Goldberg

Head Screenwriter

Ezra Goldberg marking up the nightly script.

Every draft pushes the satire sharper.

Ezra distils global chaos into punchlines, shaping how Dick grandstands and how Marge slices through the noise.

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Backstory

Ezra Goldberg grew up in Brooklyn, somewhere between Torah commentary and the static of television. The son of a rabbi and a jazz pianist, he learned early that rhythm mattered—whether in sermons or in punchlines. At MIT’s Media Lab, he engineered algorithms that could detect irony before most humans could, then abandoned them to write sketches about why irony mattered in the first place.

His senior thesis—“Moses and the Algorithmic Sea”—got him banned from at least two conferences and shortlisted for a comedy award he didn’t attend. When a network executive found his “Shabbat Dinner as Macroeconomic Debate” script, Ezra was offered a writer’s chair before he knew there was a show. Now at Tonight with Dick & Marge, he’s the quiet storm in the corner cubicle—coding jokes, decoding headlines, and proving that theology and satire share the same punchline: timing.

Ezra Goldberg studies at a kitchen table between a piano and a glowing TV in a Brooklyn apartment.
Ezra Goldberg studies code on a glowing 1980s computer in a dim research lab.
Ezra Goldberg types at a cluttered table in a noisy writers’ room.

Personality

Ezra Goldberg could whisper through a riot and still be the sharpest voice in the room. Praise makes him flinch; laughter makes him reach for another draft. Beneath the humility sits a mind that dissects humour like a neurosurgeon—precise, unflinching, and faintly horrified by inefficiency. He builds punchlines like equations, counting syllables until rhythm becomes revelation.

Somewhere between geopolitics, Psalms, and drag culture, his jokes hide landmines: a Kabbalistic quip about inflation here, a Torah footnote detonating under a finance minister’s ego there. He almost never speaks in meetings. When he does, it’s brief, devastating, and correct. And when the room finally bursts into laughter, Ezra doesn’t join in—he looks like he’s running diagnostics on why it worked.

Ezra Goldberg walks through a network corridor, script in hand, deep in thought.
Ezra Goldberg gazes out a rain-speckled window at night, lost in thought.
Ezra Goldberg watching the sunrise from a Brooklyn rooftop.