Saturday Night Live: A Dissatisfied Retrospective
Are you a fan of "Saturday Night Live"? Are you one of those semi-fans, who loves the classic episodes, but feels that the show has lost its way? Well, due to the wonders of Netflix, the show is available for viewing -- even most of the seasons not yet officially released on DVD are available for instant viewing on the Netflix website. And I have made a remarkable discovery: despite the conventional wisdom that the show used to be great, but now it sucks, the truth of the matter is that the show has always sucked.
Now, this may seem like sacrilege to many loyal fans of the show, especially to those who so fondly remember the years with the original cast of the 1970s, often referred to as the show's golden age. But after watching several episodes from seasons one and two, I'm forced to conclude that the show is much more fondly remembered than it deserves. Our memories have been tainted by countless "best of" compilations and retrospectives, which present classic sketches whose humor endures, often almost as funny with the hundredth viewing as they were with the first. But if you actually sit down and watch entire episodes, you'll find that those "best of" sketches actually represent a very small percentage of the series as a whole. The vast majority of sketches fall flat, to the point where it becomes a real chore to sit through an entire episode. Put simply, for all its legendary stature, SNL is a distressingly, painfully unfunny show. And I know my reaction is not from a lack of "getting it"; even the sometimes-visible applause sign often fails to elicit much of a reaction from the live studio audience, and it's clear to me that without that sign, the crowd would often sit silently.
Say what you will about the ups and downs of Chevy Chase's career, but you have to admit that he was hilarious on Saturday Night Live. The fact is, aside from the very occasional exceptions that we're all familiar with (Dan Aykroyd as Julia Child, the brilliant Star Trek spoof, etc.) Chase is the only real bright spot in the early seasons (he was replaced by Bill Murray mid-way through season two). He delivers his lines with a star-making mixture of charm, skilled comic timing, and downright good acting (note his letter-perfect performance as Spock in the aforementioned Star Trek spoof, for example).
Yet it would be unfair to give Chase too much credit, because despite common complaints about more recent cast members who allegedly "suck," the strengths and weaknesses of SNL -- since the show's inception right down to the present day -- have always been a result of the writing rather than the acting. Think about it. John Belushi, for example, immediately established himself as a brilliant mimic, with dead-on impressions of Joe Cocker, Marlon Brando, Ray Charles, etc. Belushi was, no two ways about it, the first of many great impressionists to be featured on SNL. But once you get past the delightful comic shock of how much Belushi's impersonations resemble the real-life counterparts, the smile quickly fades; "okay," we're left to wonder, "so Belushi is playing Humphrey Bogart in this sketch, got it, but where are the writers going with this? What about this is funny other than the fact that Belushi's acting like Bogie?" Sadly, the answer is usually "very little."
One flaw SNL is known for is just how long their sketches can last; it's bad enough when the joke isn't working, but when the writers take an already unfunny idea and stretch it past all reason, that's what turns a potentially minor fault into an outrightly negative viewing experience. Despite fond memories of the 70s SNL, those early years are filled with examples of this type. Jane Curtin's advertisement for Quarry-brand cereal, for instance, lasts longer than many real-life television commercials, and the only joke in the whole thing is the remarkably unfunny, extended gag that the cereal is made out of rocks.
An even better example of a sketch that lasts much longer than it should is a woeful Twilight Zone parody: Jane Curtin stars as an actress who checks into a hotel room, "but what she doesn't know," Aykroyd warns in a pretty good Rod Serling impression, "is that she has really just checked into the Twilight Zone!" This is a set-up with some potential. But Aykroyd/Serling then delivers a nearly identical monologue introducing Gilda Radner as another actress who enters the hotel room. And then we are treated to yet another monologue about a third actress in the same room. By now, the sketch is getting redundant, and I'm impatiently thinking, "ok, after all that, there better be a damn funny pay-off -- or at least an interesting one!" But no, the punch line is that Rod Serling has invited all three actresses into the room, so that he can seduce them. That joke would have fallen flat with even one set-up, let alone a set-up that is repeated ad nauseum. And please keep in mind that I'm not picking and choosing only the worst sketches to gripe about; my whole point is that these lumps of yawn-inducing dreck are sadly typical of SNL's output even in the 1970s golden era.
At the risk of repeating myself, I must emphasize that the fault lies with the writing, not the acting. (The fact that much of the writing is done by the actors is completely beside the point; they are simply failing at one task, and succeeding at the other.) Take the 1985/86 season, for example. The cast included gifted comic actor Randy Quaid and future Oscar winners Joan Cusack and Robert Downey, Jr. But the whole year was so forgettable that even most of Downey's countless fans are completely unaware that he used to be a cast member of Saturday Night Live.
The makers of SNL were the first to become aware that their success or failure depends on their writers. When the show's ratings plummeted in 1980, the producers tried to fix the situation by bringing back Michael O'Donoghue, who had served as the show's head writer during most of the 70s. During O'Donoghue's absence, we had the single worst season in the show's 35-year history. O'Donoghue came back, and saved the show from cancellation by making Eddie Murphy a star.
A more recent example is Tina Fey; while writing SNL has always been a highly collaborative process, Fey's reign as head writer almost speaks for itself. When she joined the writing staff, the show was hitting near-record lows in the ratings, but by the time she left, the show was popular again, sketches were reviewed on primetime news broadcasts, and Will Ferrell and others had become celebrities due to their tenures on S.N.L. This is not to suggest that Fey deserves sole credit for all of this, but the timing can't be denied; it's no coincidence that when she left in favor of her own series, 30 Rock, ratings immediately began to plummet.
None of this is to say that the legacy of Saturday Night Live should be ignored. The number of actors, celebrities, and comedians who owe their careers to the show is simply mind-boggling, and it's safe to say that the series has become a part of nearly every aspect of American popular culture. SNL gave us Eddie Murphy, Will Ferrell, laughs and memories, and the much-needed occasional reminder that Generalissimo Francisco Franco is still dead. But don't confuse the show's legacy with nostalgia for a level of quality that never existed. Sometimes, the fondly remembered "good old days" just aren't as good as we remember.
Now, this may seem like sacrilege to many loyal fans of the show, especially to those who so fondly remember the years with the original cast of the 1970s, often referred to as the show's golden age. But after watching several episodes from seasons one and two, I'm forced to conclude that the show is much more fondly remembered than it deserves. Our memories have been tainted by countless "best of" compilations and retrospectives, which present classic sketches whose humor endures, often almost as funny with the hundredth viewing as they were with the first. But if you actually sit down and watch entire episodes, you'll find that those "best of" sketches actually represent a very small percentage of the series as a whole. The vast majority of sketches fall flat, to the point where it becomes a real chore to sit through an entire episode. Put simply, for all its legendary stature, SNL is a distressingly, painfully unfunny show. And I know my reaction is not from a lack of "getting it"; even the sometimes-visible applause sign often fails to elicit much of a reaction from the live studio audience, and it's clear to me that without that sign, the crowd would often sit silently.
Say what you will about the ups and downs of Chevy Chase's career, but you have to admit that he was hilarious on Saturday Night Live. The fact is, aside from the very occasional exceptions that we're all familiar with (Dan Aykroyd as Julia Child, the brilliant Star Trek spoof, etc.) Chase is the only real bright spot in the early seasons (he was replaced by Bill Murray mid-way through season two). He delivers his lines with a star-making mixture of charm, skilled comic timing, and downright good acting (note his letter-perfect performance as Spock in the aforementioned Star Trek spoof, for example).
Yet it would be unfair to give Chase too much credit, because despite common complaints about more recent cast members who allegedly "suck," the strengths and weaknesses of SNL -- since the show's inception right down to the present day -- have always been a result of the writing rather than the acting. Think about it. John Belushi, for example, immediately established himself as a brilliant mimic, with dead-on impressions of Joe Cocker, Marlon Brando, Ray Charles, etc. Belushi was, no two ways about it, the first of many great impressionists to be featured on SNL. But once you get past the delightful comic shock of how much Belushi's impersonations resemble the real-life counterparts, the smile quickly fades; "okay," we're left to wonder, "so Belushi is playing Humphrey Bogart in this sketch, got it, but where are the writers going with this? What about this is funny other than the fact that Belushi's acting like Bogie?" Sadly, the answer is usually "very little."
One flaw SNL is known for is just how long their sketches can last; it's bad enough when the joke isn't working, but when the writers take an already unfunny idea and stretch it past all reason, that's what turns a potentially minor fault into an outrightly negative viewing experience. Despite fond memories of the 70s SNL, those early years are filled with examples of this type. Jane Curtin's advertisement for Quarry-brand cereal, for instance, lasts longer than many real-life television commercials, and the only joke in the whole thing is the remarkably unfunny, extended gag that the cereal is made out of rocks.
An even better example of a sketch that lasts much longer than it should is a woeful Twilight Zone parody: Jane Curtin stars as an actress who checks into a hotel room, "but what she doesn't know," Aykroyd warns in a pretty good Rod Serling impression, "is that she has really just checked into the Twilight Zone!" This is a set-up with some potential. But Aykroyd/Serling then delivers a nearly identical monologue introducing Gilda Radner as another actress who enters the hotel room. And then we are treated to yet another monologue about a third actress in the same room. By now, the sketch is getting redundant, and I'm impatiently thinking, "ok, after all that, there better be a damn funny pay-off -- or at least an interesting one!" But no, the punch line is that Rod Serling has invited all three actresses into the room, so that he can seduce them. That joke would have fallen flat with even one set-up, let alone a set-up that is repeated ad nauseum. And please keep in mind that I'm not picking and choosing only the worst sketches to gripe about; my whole point is that these lumps of yawn-inducing dreck are sadly typical of SNL's output even in the 1970s golden era.
At the risk of repeating myself, I must emphasize that the fault lies with the writing, not the acting. (The fact that much of the writing is done by the actors is completely beside the point; they are simply failing at one task, and succeeding at the other.) Take the 1985/86 season, for example. The cast included gifted comic actor Randy Quaid and future Oscar winners Joan Cusack and Robert Downey, Jr. But the whole year was so forgettable that even most of Downey's countless fans are completely unaware that he used to be a cast member of Saturday Night Live.
The makers of SNL were the first to become aware that their success or failure depends on their writers. When the show's ratings plummeted in 1980, the producers tried to fix the situation by bringing back Michael O'Donoghue, who had served as the show's head writer during most of the 70s. During O'Donoghue's absence, we had the single worst season in the show's 35-year history. O'Donoghue came back, and saved the show from cancellation by making Eddie Murphy a star.
A more recent example is Tina Fey; while writing SNL has always been a highly collaborative process, Fey's reign as head writer almost speaks for itself. When she joined the writing staff, the show was hitting near-record lows in the ratings, but by the time she left, the show was popular again, sketches were reviewed on primetime news broadcasts, and Will Ferrell and others had become celebrities due to their tenures on S.N.L. This is not to suggest that Fey deserves sole credit for all of this, but the timing can't be denied; it's no coincidence that when she left in favor of her own series, 30 Rock, ratings immediately began to plummet.
None of this is to say that the legacy of Saturday Night Live should be ignored. The number of actors, celebrities, and comedians who owe their careers to the show is simply mind-boggling, and it's safe to say that the series has become a part of nearly every aspect of American popular culture. SNL gave us Eddie Murphy, Will Ferrell, laughs and memories, and the much-needed occasional reminder that Generalissimo Francisco Franco is still dead. But don't confuse the show's legacy with nostalgia for a level of quality that never existed. Sometimes, the fondly remembered "good old days" just aren't as good as we remember.
posted by Movie Man at
5:23 AM
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