John Mulaney’s “Everybody’s Live” is a mess. Jokes miss, bits are too niche and the frequent live call-ins have a bad habit of overstaying their welcome.

And I love every second of it.

Not in a camp way, not in a so-bad-it’s-good way, but in a “this is of high quality” way. Of the four hour-long episodes, I’ve enjoyed all 240 minutes.

“Everybody’s Live” is not for everybody. It’s not for people who like Mulaney only for his airtight stand-up, and it’s not for people who lack the patience for live, barely-rehearsed TV. It’s for people who, like me, love nonsensical, ironic bits and weird, time-wasting humor.

And, for those people, it’s perfect.

It’s immediately clear that Mulaney has a lot of reverence for his late night predecessors. Conan O’Brien’s influence is constantly apparent (Mulaney will be the first to admit that O’Brien’s run on “Late Night” was a comedic bible for him) but he takes inspiration from other legends of the industry, too. The set of “Everybody’s Live” is ripped straight from Johnny Carson, and the unpredictability is characteristic of David Letterman.

And yet, it’s all totally fresh. Each week, Mulaney focuses on a different topic that interests him, whether it’s cruise ships or funeral planning or squatters, and he brings celebrity guests on to discuss those areas. They’re not there to promote their latest film – just to hang out.

And those celebrities are A-listers. In the first four episodes, he’s had Ben Stiller, Michael Keaton, Joan Baez, Bill Hader, Pete Davidson and a half dozen more, and Mulaney’s announcer and sidekick is Richard Kind, who has 300 acting credits to his name on IMDb.

The most interesting part about “Everybody’s Live” is the non-celebrities who are experts in the episode’s field. They’re treated as equals to the stars seated next to them and are yielded to on almost every call-in.

Those call-ins are what make the show stand out the most. Whether it’s obvious pranksters spinning yarns, genuine people telling truths, or Mulaney hanging up by asking what kind of car the caller drives, there’s no predictability in what each phone ring will bring.

Writing is Mulaney’s forte, so it’s not shocking that “Everybody’s Live” has a half dozen great bits every night. In the first episode, he gathered 10 or so actors and actresses who had portrayed Willy Loman for an in-character focus group, a couple weeks later, he had Tracy Morgan as Queen Latifah’s husband – the king of Latifah – and, recently, he’s ran fake commercials encouraging men to get their height checked.

“Everybody’s Live” is unlike most comedy on TV and streaming right now. It’s not as structured as a regular late-night show, and it’s not as precise as sketch comedies like “I Think You Should Leave.”

But it is, undeniably, John Mulaney, from its antiquated style to its specific focuses to its stupidly-smart writing.

And that’s all I need.