‘Saturday Night’ Review: Jason Reitman Finds the Right Ensemble to Capture the Lunacy from Which ‘SNL’ Was Born

As a seasoned critic with decades of watching Saturday Night Live episodes under my belt, I must say that “Goodbye, Vietnam” is not just another biopic about a legendary comedy show; it’s a time capsule that transports us back to the chaotic, groundbreaking era of television comedy.


For over a thousand episodes, “Saturday Night Live” has produced some of America’s most famous comedians, memorable characters, and popular catchphrases. As the pop culture sensation approaches its 50th anniversary next year, director Jason Reitman pays tribute by turning an oral history of the very first episode into a lively, uncensored backstage homage. “Saturday Night” premieres at 10 p.m. on October 11, 1975, and follows the events almost in real time up to Chevy Chase delivering the iconic opening line. However, you might wonder who portrays Chevy Chase or Gilda Radner, or John Belushi for that matter?

The research is one thing, but Reitman — whose father Ivan directed his fair share of “SNL” legends, and who always dreamed of writing for the show — sets a foolhardy challenge for himself in finding sufficiently funny people to play some of TV’s most beloved cut-ups. Miraculously, Reitman and casting director John Papsidera pull it off, such that everyone reflects the singular energy (if not always the exact look) of their characters. You might not cast them in the biopic of any one individual, but as an ensemble, they’re terrific. That goes whether you’ve never seen an episode or can still remember arranging your Saturday nights around the show.

Interestingly, this task demands a strategy contrary to what “SNL” actually employs. Originally, the cast members were primarily chosen from Second City and National Lampoon, known for their eccentric characters and over-the-top impersonations. However, in this case, what was needed was a more nuanced approach – performers capable of portraying the vulnerabilities and insecurities of their characters, transforming icons into relatable, human figures.

Among the cast members, some are not professional comedians, including Cory Michael Smith, who is primarily known for his work in Todd Haynes films but here plays a younger version of Chevy Chase. I hadn’t encountered Matt Wood prior to this role as John Belushi, and I certainly wasn’t expecting Nicholas Braun from “Succession” to take on dual roles as both Andy Kaufman and Jim Henson. (Indeed, Henson was famous for his puppetry, which he used in the adult-oriented “Land of Gorch” segments throughout the first season.)

As I sat eagerly awaiting the start of production on this film, producer Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle) found himself grappling with the question, “What exactly is this show?” It was a valid query, given that at 10pm, our notorious corkboard – the heartbeat of our planning – was a chaotic tangle of ideas. We had four host monologues, two stand-up acts, two musical guests each delivering double performances, an eccentric act by Andy Kaufman, five parody commercials, Weekend Update, a film by Albert Brooks, Jim Henson’s Muppet segment, and no less than seven skits all vying for attention. It was a veritable smorgasbord of creativity!

It’s clear that this three-hour content is what led to Billy Crystal (Nicholas Podany) and others being cut. However, 90 minutes in, Michael refuses to concede that it can’t all be fitted in. To his doubting superior Dick Ebersol (Cooper Hoffon), he argues, “They can’t be expected to recognize something they’ve never encountered before.” To the influential affiliates, he justifies how “SNL” will be a groundbreaking variety show designed for the generation that grew up with television. And to NBC executive David Tebet (Willem Dafoe), who’s poised to revert to a “The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson” rerun at any moment, Michael attempts to project calm amidst the turmoil.

In many behind-the-scenes films, it’s surprising that productions manage to air at all due to the chaos portrayed. Similarly, it’s astonishing how “SNL” made it onto our screens, given the disarray Reitman depicts here – a depiction that seems to be based on or inspired by interviews with people who were there during that significant night. A near-catastrophic lighting rig accident almost squashes Belushi and Radner (Ella Hunt) during rehearsal, one set catches fire, drugs are used, tempers flare, and it’s difficult to explain the roaming llama in the halls (a reference to the later seasons’ habit of including a random llama in backstage scenes).

As a movie reviewer, I’d say:

Managing the intricate details of coordinating numerous elements feels just as challenging as productions like “Birdman” or “Babylon.” However, unlike those films, Reitman isn’t trying to impress. When he chooses an elaborate continuous shot spanning multiple sets, it’s because the scene demands it. Michaels and his team, including Rosie Shuster (Rachel Sennott), his spouse who often flirts with Dan Aykroyd (Dylan O’Brien), are always juggling tasks simultaneously. Layering all their pressures together creates a level of tension that could fuel New York City.

In search of a fitting melody to complement his emotions, Reitman selected Jon Batiste, who was also the musical guest alongside Billy Preston. Batiste contributes an energetic jazz soundtrack, rich with percussion, brass, and various rhythmic elements, which is both fresh (recorded live, just like the show) and impactful. At times, it intensely fills up every bit of space, even overpowering crucial dialogue in the film’s Dolby Atmos audio mix. However, once Michaels enters the control room where Robert Wuhl operates the equipment, the music ceases, providing the audience a brief respite to catch their breath… but not for long.

Despite constant challenges, Reitman consistently finds time for each cast member. Jane Curtin (Kim Matula) rehearses a hilarious steel wool commercial, Laraine Newman (Emily Fairn) hones her swift costume-changing abilities, and Garrett Morris (Lamorne Morris), a versatile actor often typecast, gets to sing. Morris frequently ponders his role in the project, Belushi signs his contract at the very last moment, and Chase experiences his first glimpse of the impact this show will have on his career (in a poignant scene with Tracy Letts).

According to Tebet, Chase is referred to as a charming and witty non-Jewish individual with immense potential. However, he’s known for being arrogant and argumentative with his fellow actors, particularly Belushi. In the film’s most striking and audacious cameo, the legendary comedian Milton Berle (portrayed by J.K. Simmons) outshines everyone in terms of arrogance. Berle and Carson symbolize the giants of television comedy at that time. Carson wielded such influence that he could determine a young comic’s fate by merely inviting them to sit on his couch. Later, “SNL” emerged, and being featured on Michaels’ show catapulted comedians into stardom, just as it did for Steve Martin and early cast members like Bill Murray and Eddie Murphy.

30-year-old Michael grasped – and LaBelle effectively portrays with a palpable sense of intense anxiety – that contemporary viewers sought content that resonated with them, regardless of pushing boundaries set by NBC’s Standards department (symbolized here by Catherine Curtin, whose stern censor provides the film’s most humorous moments). A key figure in modern television, Michael is known for his clear vision yet also the insight to trust talent, as demonstrated when he allows Chase to host Weekend Update. Not all of his concepts are successful, as evident with the Killer Bees (and many projects he has produced).

That particular night held significance. Reitman narrates a pivotal moment in television history that significantly altered America’s comedic perspective – a shift foreshadowed by cultural upheavals such as Lenny Bruce, Cheech and Chong, and the show’s initial host, George Carlin (portrayed by Matthew Rhys). It’s fortunate that Reitman (co-written with Gil Kenan) decided to tackle this project only now, after a decade-long slump in the “Juno” prodigy’s career. The experience of failure, despite “SNL” subsequently shattering every record, adds authenticity to the storyline; we must believe that the film could bomb for it to succeed. In the end, it’s clear who gets the final chuckle.

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2024-09-01 10:47