Review: It’s ‘Saturday Night,’ not as edgy as it really was, celebrated in a nostalgic haze

Review: It's 'Saturday Night,' not as edgy as it really was, celebrated in a nostalgic haze

As a seasoned cinema connoisseur who has witnessed the evolution of comedy through the decades, I must confess that “Saturday Night” left me feeling more like a bystander than an active participant in the revolution. The film, directed by Jason Reitman, offers a glimpse into the tumultuous events leading up to the first broadcast of Saturday Night Live (SNL) in 1975, but it lacks the buzzy, electric energy that such a momentous occasion should have had.


On October 11, 1975, everything transformed at Studio 8H within New York’s Rockefeller Center for comedy, television, and a group of unrecognized jesters. Half a century later, “Saturday Night Live” stands as a cultural foundation (though not quite the countercultural force it once was). However, in Jason Reitman’s overly packed, high-energy “Saturday Night,” a dramatization of the lead-up to that historic first broadcast, you sense more the voice of contemporary preservation than the electric atmosphere of revolution.

A captivating narrative unfolds: An inexperienced yet self-assured producer (Gabriel LaBelle as young Lorne Michaels) faces the stress of debuting a daring show, clashing with a traditional network that thrives on the legacy of Johnny Carson. There’s also a good dose of drugs and egos butting heads. As Michaels battles artistic concessions proposed by co-creator Dick Ebersol (Cooper Hoffman), he simultaneously navigates threats from a looming executive threatening cancellation (Willem Dafoe). Simultaneously, the set is ablaze, his sarcastic head writer Michael O’Donoghue (Tommy Dewey) is at odds with the censor, and his wife and partner Rosie Shuster (Rachel Sennott) is perfecting sketches.

The atmosphere is filled with a nerve-wracking sense of anticipation and uncertainty, despite the heavy use of Jon Batiste’s rhythmic music (who also plays as guest performer Billy Preston) to amplify the tension. However, some conversations feel overly polished and quick, reminiscent of Aaron Sorkin’s writing style. The most concerning aspect is that the film, directed by Reitman and written by Gil Kenan, seems strikingly prophetic about its portrayal of historical events. Many lines are along the lines of “You’re going down as one of the greats,” making the characters feel more like links to their future biographies rather than talented individuals in a high-stakes situation, ready to take a risk on something novel.

The shame of that approach is that there’s plenty to offer in the physical nuts and bolts of “Saturday Night,” from the texture of the ’70s in Eric Steelberg’s 16mm cinematography to the mostly solid, if unwieldy, cast. As for the movie’s Not Ready for Prime Time (Re)players, they admirably eschew imitation for essence — not that essence alone carries us past thumbnail portraiture into something more dimensionalized for Matt Wood, Dylan O’Brien or Cory Michael Smith as, respectively, brooding John Belushi, eccentric Dan Aykroyd and smarmy Chevy Chase. The relentless pace keeps them and the women — Emily Fairn’s Laraine Newman, Ella Hunt’s Gilda Radner and Kim Matula’s Jane Curtin — at arm’s length. Only Lamorne Morris as Garrett Morris (no relation), musing aloud about how disconnected he feels as a Juilliard-trained Black artist given no prominence in a sea of white, achieves a satisfying completeness: the outsider within the outsiders.

Essentially, “Saturday Night” seems to favor jamming everyone into a group photo (even pre-famous figures like Al Franken and Billy Crystal), which could’ve been more impactful with a few well-developed characters. While J.K. Simmons’ portrayal of Milton Berle, with his arrogant charm, is entertaining as he undermines Chase’s self-important demeanor, other scenes appear to include characters like Nicholas Braun as Nicholas Henson (a misfit in this role) merely to mock a questionable career decision by a beloved figure, Jim Henson, and his Muppets. Such easy targets are more fitting for the early years of “Saturday Night Live”, not its prime time.

In this rephrased version, I’ve aimed to maintain the original meaning while making it easier to understand:

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2024-09-27 20:01

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