When it comes to American politics, people usually expect debates about taxes, homelessness, or education reform. What they don’t expect is a prime-time skirmish about… hand movements. Yet here we are: Fox News host Greg Gutfeld and his late-night crew have launched what can only be described as a full-scale comedy war against California Governor Gavin Newsom’s flamboyant, Broadway-ready gesticulations.

It started as a running gag on Gutfeld!, where panelists noticed that Newsom couldn’t seem to finish a sentence without summoning the spirit of interpretive dance. Every policy remark came with a wrist flick. Every press conference looked like a casting call for “Jazz Hands: The Musical.” For months, Gutfeld’s show has been riffing on these movements, teasing that the Governor might knock over a microphone, slap an aide, or accidentally hail a taxi in Sacramento mid-speech.

But this week, things escalated.

“Our commentary has gotten inside his head, and now he’s trying to control it,” Gutfeld declared triumphantly on-air. “You can actually see him holding his own hands down—violently!”

Yes, “violently.” According to Gutfeld, the California Governor has entered the tragic second act of this unintentional comedy: trying (and failing) to stage an intervention with himself.

The Anatomy of a Gesture

For those unfamiliar with Newsom’s speaking style, imagine a man whose hands have been possessed by the ghost of an overly enthusiastic orchestra conductor. His fingers slice the air with the precision of a sushi chef. His palms fan out like he’s trying to land a plane. His wrists bend with the urgency of someone shooing pigeons away from a sandwich.

Now imagine this happening while he’s talking about climate change, the budget deficit, or California’s high-speed rail project. Suddenly, state governance looks less like policymaking and more like modern dance rehearsal.

It’s the kind of visual candy that late-night comedians can’t resist. And Gutfeld, whose brand thrives on turning serious topics into absurd sketches, has found his white whale in Newsom’s wrists.

Seven Minutes of Hand-Talk

On the most recent broadcast, Gutfeld and his crew devoted a whopping seven minutes—an eternity in TV time—to nothing but dissecting Newsom’s physical expressiveness. They ran clips in slow motion, adding dramatic music as his fingers flared like fireworks. They joked that his hands deserved their own agent. One panelist suggested SAG-AFTRA might unionize them.

The crowd roared. The internet clipped. And, as Gutfeld smugly pointed out, Newsom himself seemed rattled.

Because when the Governor stepped onto the stage at a recent event, keen observers noticed something strange: the hands weren’t flying as freely. At moments, he seemed to pin them against the lectern. At others, he interlocked his fingers like a man bracing against temptation. It was subtle, but the effect was unmistakable.

“He knows we’re watching,” Gutfeld laughed. “It’s like we’ve set up camp inside his nervous system.”

Politics Meets Performance

What makes this saga so irresistibly bizarre is that it blends two worlds that rarely intersect: high-stakes governance and slapstick comedy. Newsom is the leader of the world’s fifth-largest economy. His decisions affect millions of people. And yet, here he is—caught in a feedback loop with a late-night host about whether his hands are too theatrical.

It’s almost Shakespearean: the mighty governor, undone not by policy failures but by his inability to control jazz hands.

Critics might dismiss the whole ordeal as a distraction, and maybe it is. California has plenty of urgent problems: homelessness, drought, wildfires, and rising living costs. And yet, Gutfeld has managed to make the governor’s arms more newsworthy than all of the above combined.

The Governor’s Dilemma

So what’s a politician to do? If Newsom ignores the jokes, Gutfeld will keep hammering away. If he tries to stiffen up, it looks forced—and funnier. It’s a trap with no graceful exit.

Some advisors reportedly suggested “hand training,” the kind of body-language coaching usually reserved for diplomats or CEOs. Imagine the governor spending afternoons practicing how to gesture like a normal person: two fingers for emphasis, a gentle palm-up for openness, nothing that screams Broadway matinee.

But Newsom is, at his core, a theatrical politician. His charisma partly comes from those very gestures, the sweeping physicality that makes him look larger than life. To cage his hands is to cage his persona.

And so, the spectacle continues.

The Real Winner

In the end, Greg Gutfeld knows exactly what he’s doing. By turning Newsom’s movements into a recurring gag, he’s not just making his audience laugh—he’s asserting control over his opponent’s image. Every time Newsom steps on stage now, people aren’t just listening to what he says. They’re watching the hands.

If comedy is about timing, politics is about perception. And right now, Gutfeld is winning on both fronts.

As for Newsom? He might want to consider gloves. Or perhaps, if he really wants to break the cycle, go fully in the opposite direction: embrace the meme, choreograph his speeches, and release a TikTok dance challenge called #GovernorGrooves. At least then, the hands would be working with him, not against him.

Until then, the late-night feud rolls on. Gutfeld has his material. Newsom has his restless fingers. And America has a political drama so absurd, it could only exist in 2025.