SNL’s First Lady

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Preceding shows like “Saturday Night Live” (SNL) stars Bowen, Kate, Totino’s, or Gays in Space, there was Terry Sweeney. During the SNL’s 11th season, in the midst of the AIDS crisis, Sweeney made history as the first openly gay actor on the NBC show and the first openly gay person on network television altogether. This groundbreaking casting is not often celebrated by SNL – understandably so, given that Sweeney was dismissed after just one season. It was during Lorne Michaels’s return after a five-year break, which saw the launch and failure of his new NBC show (called The New Show), as well as multiple unsuccessful attempts to replace Michaels on SNL.

During his time on the show, Sweeney performed exceptionally well. In fact, he was referred to as “the shining beacon” of Saturday Night Live’s less-than-satisfying season. His portrayal of Nancy Reagan was particularly noteworthy, as it premiered opposite Madonna’s Princess Diana in 1985 and later featured a romantic storyline with Ron, Sweeney’s character in a Back to the Future parody. However, despite this promising beginning, the season ended disastrously in a sketch involving a fire, leading to the departure of several cast members, including Sweeney, by the start of season 12.

Following those years, Sweeney struggled to secure acting roles. Instead, he teamed up with his writing and romantic partner Lanier Laney, together they co-authored the southern cult hit “Shag”, penned memorable sketches for “MADtv” titled “Felicity”, and transformed Sweeney’s character Nancy into a one-woman show named “It’s Still My Turn”. Despite the current surge in queer comedy, Sweeney remains a largely overlooked figure in the history of Saturday Night Live. As the 50th anniversary special of SNL approaches, Sweeney reflects on his groundbreaking tenure on the show and choosing to be openly gay on television. “I was genuinely gay out there and proud,” he recalls now. “It was the role I was meant to play.

What comedians or comedy shows did you find most inspiring during your early years? I can confidently say that Carol Burnett would be on many people’s list, especially those in my age group. I also fondly remember “The Jackie Gleason Show”. Among sitcoms, I enjoyed “The Beverly Hillbillies” and “Bewitched”. Endora from “Bewitched” was almost like a drag queen, which made her intriguing to many viewers. Comics such as Phyllis Diller and George Carlin amused me greatly. I later had the chance to meet and write a sketch for George when he appeared on “MADtv”. The sketch was a parody of “Touched by an Angel” called “Touched by an Atheist”.

Growing up, when you encountered Paul Lynde or Charles Nelson Reilly, did you perceive them primarily as humorous figures, rather than identifying their sexual orientation with your own?

You knew they were gay?Yeah. Although they never said it.

It’s said that both Paul Lynde and Liberace received love letters from fans, but one might question the reality of such a world.

Were you able to identify them?

Indeed, my instincts would often kick in and say something like “Woo-woo-woo.” It’s fascinating that these women never seemed to be surprised by Liberace’s flamboyant style, as if they had already anticipated it. Perhaps they didn’t, given his penchant for wearing accessories. Nevertheless, as a part of the minority in our culture, I was always on the lookout for any hint or clue that might confirm my suspicions about someone’s orientation.

At what point did you start understanding the essence of gay culture? That moment was when I joined primary school and heard someone shout, “Let’s get ’em!”. It was then that I realized, “I must be different.” I should have participated in track, as I spent a lot of time running. People would kick my books, push me into lockers. I was one of those people who were gay. They might not have known Liberace was gay, but they certainly knew I was. If I had a school bag with me, they’d say, “Oh, fag bag.” “Terry rhymes with fairy, Sweeney rhymes with weenie.

Originally, I had “Jason,” but it quickly turned into Gayson. They may not be particularly smart, yet they come up with ideas like that. However, my reaction was, What’s their issue? I never questioned myself, What’s wrong with me? That approach is much healthier! Later on, some other gay people would consider jumping out of a window. I thought, Oh no, I won’t push you out. I’m not going to do that!

Upon entering college, everything felt somewhat unstructured. People weren’t openly hostile, but there was a sense of caution. Then, there was an individual who served as the counselor for my dorm floor, and he expressed interest in me romantically. I thought, “How thoughtful. Thanks for your guidance, which was subtly moving towards my shorts.

Had I seen The Boys in the Band earlier? No, it was shown just after that. Oh boy, what a chilling experience! All those cruel psychological games left me on edge. I found myself asking, “Is this a glimpse of my future?” And Cruising! That’s even scarier! It gives you a taste of what awaits: “If you think things are bad now, just wait until you step onto that ominous dark pier at night. You never know if you’ll survive.

During my junior year, I traveled to Spain and visited a bar named Los Stones. At this establishment, men often sat on each other’s laps and kissed. Upon graduating from college in 1973, I ventured into the disco scene. I frequently danced the night away at Studio 54 due to my striking resemblance to David Kennedy, a regular attendee who was known for his drug addiction. Despite being a junkie, I always wondered why people found it difficult to gain entry to Studio 54. On every visit, I thought to myself, “Why do they say it’s so challenging to get in here? I’m the wrong person!” I even attended Liza’s birthday party there!

As a seasoned movie reviewer, let me share my personal experience: I hadn’t delved much into the world of drag until then, but the 70s were bustling with these vibrant personalities. I crossed paths with some Village People, notably ‘The Indian’, who I spent an unforgettable night with. However, it seems they’ve since transitioned to a straight lifestyle. Encountering drag was always an exhilarating, sometimes daunting adventure for me. The energy, the fun, and the fearless self-expression were captivating.

What led you into the world of comedy? I first began at Catch a Rising Star and other smaller venues, crafting my act. I created a routine called “Cabfinger,” which humorously depicted being hooked on taxis – back then, the subway was incredibly frightening to me. I started experimenting with stand-up comedy in those small settings, but to rather conservative audiences.

As a performer, I’ve always been authentic, never trying to conform to any stereotype. In New York’s vibrant cabaret and club scene, where the atmosphere was undeniably gay, I felt right at home. However, stepping into the stand-up world, I found myself contemplating, “This might be a challenging journey.” I thrived more in the realm of performance art and improvisation, finding those environments more conducive to my unique style.

How were you received when performing for straight audiences? I’ve never faced any shouting of offensive slurs like “faggot” or boos. In general, people have been quite receptive towards me on stage. However, I often had to balance my career with working as a waiter for half the time.

How did you end up getting hired during SNL’s sixth season when Lorne Michaels was on hiatus and Jean Doumanian was in charge? Well, a friend of mine mentioned he was auditioning that day. I thought, “Maybe I should give it a shot.” He said, “Don’t bother, it’s the last day.” So, I went home, shut myself inside my apartment, and wrote 20 sketches, drinking around ten pots of coffee. The following day, I headed to 30 Rock. There were two big security guards checking IDs. To the right was a deli. I bought sandwiches, coleslaw, potato salad, and drinks, then approached the guard, saying, “Lunch for SNL!” He replied, “I’m not delivering lunch here. Get to work, for heaven’s sake.” I apologized and explained it was my first day.

I ascended, and everyone was gesturing me to come in. I rapped on Jean Doumanian’s door, and she replied, “I didn’t request any midday meal, dear.” To which I responded, “I understand, I’m a writer. I’ve penned all these sketches. Could you please take a look?” And I dashed out. For two weeks, there was no response. Then Jean Doumanian phoned me and asked, “Hi, did you create those 20 sketches?” To which I replied, “Yes.” She then inquired, “What do you do?” I responded, “I work as a waiter.” And she said, “From Monday, you’ll be a writer on Saturday Night Live.” I was recruited just like that. No agent, no contacts, only a street performer, and I was offered the job.

How did writing for that particular period in time fare? Eddie Murphy’s involvement turned everything into gold, and despite Gilbert Gottfried being an eccentric genius who sometimes seemed unconventional, bordering on peculiar, it ultimately worked to his advantage as he found his unique path. Jean Doumanian was constantly suggesting, “I believe I should include you in the show.” She watched me closely, but eventually they let her go. It created quite a stir.

What was the story behind how you came to know your husband, Lanier? Well, we crossed paths back in 1982. We were both immersed in stand-up, performance art, improv, and various artistic endeavors during that time in New York City. Our friends, who were all performers, introduced us. Eventually, I joined his performance group, the Whitlach Family, where I played a Christian song stylist named Kitty Kincaid. The members would often recognize me from the audience, exclaiming “Look, it’s Kitty Kincaid!” I’d bow and everyone would cheer before I’d perform “Whatever Jesus Wants, Jesus Gets,” which seemed to unsettle the straight men in the crowd.

Have you ever pondered if my acting style resembles drag? To be honest, I’ve always viewed myself as a character actress, as I wasn’t involved in glamorous roles. It was never a case of me saying, “I’m going to perform in drag.” The idea never crossed my mind in that way.

Could you share with me how I ended up being part of Saturday Night Live? It all began with my husband’s cabaret act, titled “Banned in France,” which I joined back in 1983. Our group consisted of roughly five people: myself, Lanier, Carey Cromelin, Ginger Donelson, and Walter Thomas. We were quite eccentric! We had remarkably lifelike dolls, and we staged ourselves as a circus family that used our own babies in the act. In one act, we’d blindfold ourselves and pretend to shoot them with a gun while they were on a spinning roulette wheel. We could even toss them around.

After being part of the group for six months, a fantastic review from the New York Times likened me to Lily Tomlin for my character Connie Chutzpah. Growing up on Long Island, I was surrounded by Jewish friends, which inspired the creation of her character based on all those Jewish mothers. Eventually, talent agents took notice and invited me to audition for “The New Show”. This was the moment they expressed interest in me.

During that period, I had relinquished my rental apartment. I was contemplating whether I would reside in New York or Los Angeles following an audition. For six long weeks, I stayed on the floor of Doug McGrath’s New York apartment, waiting for a response, as it was one of those situations where you could hear any day or moment. Unfortunately, that opportunity didn’t materialize. They informed me, “We will only use established stars.” Since I hadn’t received payment from that show yet, I moved to Los Angeles. Then, my husband found an article in The Hollywood Reporter stating that Lorne was in town, searching for talent for SNL. I purchased wilted flowers, added a bow and a card to them, and wrote, “Lorne, I bought these flowers. I know you’re in LA looking for SNL talent. Remember me? I went to the trouble of getting you these flowers and delivering them, including a cab fare. If you don’t choose me, I expect to be reimbursed for these. Have a nice day.” I signed it “Connie Chutzpah.” I was the first person he hired for season 11.

Have you ever noticed if I played the character of Connie on the show? It seems they didn’t find it appealing or amusing to have me portray that role in drag, as evidenced by their lack of laughter during the read-throughs.

Are they deliberately trying to do that? Indeed, it’s a part of the game. You want your sketch to shine, so sometimes you might not laugh at someone else’s work intentionally, hoping yours will be the funniest. It’s not about camaraderie; it’s a competitive environment. That was something I wasn’t accustomed to since when working with Lanier and my friends, we were all joking around, but in the actual writers’ room, it’s survival of the funniest.

As the first openly gay character on the show, I encountered a subtler form of homophobia. It wasn’t about slurs, but more about being overlooked. My colleagues were well-educated, yet I would often find them saying things like, “I don’t really have any ideas for you. We need a mailman in the sketch; we don’t need a gay mailman.” Randy Quaid was part of the cast, and at script readings, he would have a mountain of scripts while I had just a few sketches. It seemed like they didn’t write for me as much.

Lorne said to me, “I’m bringing on your spouse as an employee because nobody else will be writing for you.

If you asked, “Would you like to collaborate with me on this?”, what do you think their response would be? They’re currently engaged in something. Carol Leifer was the only one who wrote for me comfortably, and Al Franken had no issues either. I haven’t felt that way since junior high school.

During the time I was on Saturday Night Live, I unfortunately lost 13 friends to AIDS that season. Thirteen! It was heartbreaking as I attended memorials, burials, and funerals. Yet, I had to put on a happy face and perform my comedic role, while no one wrote scripts for me. It was incredibly challenging. I was deeply affected by the loss of life in the gay community, yet there seemed to be little discussion about it. I found myself in a dual reality – grieving the lives of my friends, while being expected to entertain others who didn’t seem to care enough to write a sketch for me. I felt frustrated and angry.

You could’ve simply chosen to follow in the footsteps of Liberace or Lynda, keeping your true identity hidden without any questions raised. However, that path might have led to having lingerie hurled at me instead of applause.

Was abstaining from hiding one’s sexuality an act of advocacy?

As a devoted film enthusiast, it’s astounding how some people assume that bold decisions are commonplace. For instance, there was this so-called friend of mine who confessed, “Your courage is inspiring. I couldn’t risk my career like that.” Guess what? That friendship fizzled out. He’s still performing today, but he never quite made it big. The general sentiment seemed to be: “If you want to pursue this, by all means, cripple yourself.”

Following season 11, I was let go from acting roles and found myself jobless in the industry for a full decade. All the roles for LGBT individuals were predictable, often revolving around AIDS and hospital stays. The next time I got an opportunity to bring laughter to the screen was on Seinfeld. Climbing back up the ladder!

The boys had never witnessed anyone in drag before. You, however, are the pioneer as the first woman to wear drag. Danitra Vance, who was hired as a Black woman, identified as a lesbian, but she kept her sexuality private. She once said, “Terry, dear, I’m Black, I’m from the projects, I’m a woman. I don’t feel the need to announce ‘lesbian’ too.” We would find comfort in each other and laugh about various things, but it wasn’t easy.

What was it like during Chevy Chase’s hosting tenure? Well, everyone seemed to have a bit of a tussle with him. Have you ever encountered a ‘Chevy moment’? In essence, I found myself leaving the room often.

Could you tell me exactly what caused your decision to leave? Well, I was quite eager to meet him as it was my first encounter with an ex-cast member. However, when he inquired about the “gay one”, I identified myself. His response was to propose a sketch where they’d joke about me having AIDS and weighing me throughout the show, making it appear like I was losing weight. The audience reacted with shock, and so I simply stood up and left.

However, you appear rather peaceful about it now. I’m having trouble following how you reached this point. It was 1985 after all! I was kumbaya about it then too, but I moved on because that was his personal issue. It didn’t involve me in any way. It was humiliating. Lorne made him come and apologize to me. When he finally showed up, he said something along the lines of “If I offended you, I suppose I’m sorry.” The apology men often make that women dislike is what it resembled – it felt almost like a joke, so overused and clichéd.

Did we happen to work together on a cover shoot last year with SNL alums, where you two were also present? If so, could you share your experience of that event?
I was initially worried about encountering him there. I remember thinking, “What on earth am I doing at the same shoot as him?” However, surprisingly enough, he seemed older and unsteady. It appeared someone was assisting him during the shoot, suggesting some health issues. I merely passed by him without his recognition, and we’ve never exchanged a word since then.

Inquiries abound regarding Danitra’s character. Can you describe her? She was an incredibly sweet, intelligent, and compassionate individual. Absolutely delightful! Among all, she was my sole genuine friend within the group. She had a modest collection of sketches and writings she cherished dearly.

Did she have to pen everything herself, or was there someone who occasionally wrote for her? While it’s possible that they may have helped out, the sentiment seems to be that they often struggled with understanding and representing Black women’s experiences effectively. In the case of Saturday Night Live, for instance, female performers often faced difficulties in getting their sketches produced, as if there was an unspoken barrier preventing both them and the writers from fully showcasing their talents. They were essentially confined or restricted.

What attracted me to Nancy was her unique charm. I find nothing more off-putting than passive-aggressiveness, but there’s something about assertive, passive-aggressive women that I admire greatly. She reminds me of Endora in a way. It’s due to her influence that Ron Reagan leaned towards Republicanism. Despite his father being a Republican, Ron was quite flexible in his political beliefs, but Nancy seemed to sway him towards the Republican party.

During my appearance on the show, Ron Jr. was the host and we hit it off wonderfully. We performed a skit where we portrayed two queens taking care of Nora Dunn’s apartment, but while she was away, we turned it into something… unconventional. I joked, “I sprinkled fairy dust in every nook and cranny!” When she returned, she asked, “What on earth have you ladies done here?” The audience loved it during the dress rehearsal, but since they were connected to the White House, we couldn’t air it. Interestingly, Ron Jr.’s son told me, “You remind me more of my mother than my actual mother does.” In the skit, I played a character who was just like Nancy: mean, petty, and bossy. He even greeted me as “mom” when we passed in the hallway, and it seemed he wasn’t upset about me portraying his mother that way. That was the real Nancy.

What made that character stand out to you was the attention to detail in their appearance, as they aimed for a flawless look and styled their hair and accessories meticulously.

Was portraying her as a gay man a means of expressing frustration over the Reagans’ lack of action towards AIDS, since they were not addressing it and there was no help? It felt like crying out, as if to say, “The country’s doing great!” while they were enjoying themselves, all the while witnessing a significant tragedy in the gay community.

Was that aspect influential in how you portrayed her character? Absolutely! I gave it a touch of patriotism, like “I’m deeply dedicated to this wonderful nation!” The character was amusing, yet audiences didn’t seem to like her. She was petty indeed, making her an interesting character to play. Some might say she was a villainess, but I never felt intense dislike towards her. I don’t harbor such feelings about anyone. Instead, I thought, “You’re not doing well. You’re awful. And you know, you have gay friends – who styles your hair?” They were part of the entertainment industry.

How did the final part of the season play out? The season finale portrayed a blaze occurring at 8H, with Lorne only managing to rescue Jon Lovitz. Danitra and I were both caught in the fire. Upon hearing about this “fire sketch”, Danitra and I exchanged glances, and she commented, “I bet who’ll be in that fire?” To which I replied, “Someone kind, a Black woman, and a gay man.” I was enraged. I was truly enraged. I threw a tantrum.

Really?
Yeah. I threw a fit. I didn’t want to do it.

It seems you didn’t wish to continue with the performance anymore, as you stated, “I refuse to enter that inferno. I refuse to perform the skit.

I had a sense deep down, an intuition almost, that something was amiss. It wasn’t a question of ‘if’, but ‘when’. Sometimes, we pick up on such vibes, and it felt like this was one of those times.

Indeed, the following season commenced once more with Madonna in her hosting role, offering another heartfelt apology: “I’m sorry, rest assured, we won’t repeat the mistake from last year.

In simpler terms, how did you perceive that situation? If you’d like to redo it subtly without causing a stir, feel free to move on and then retell the story. There’s no need for anyone to be put in an uncomfortable position or express their discomfort. I felt that both those actions were unprofessional and cruel, to be honest. They seemed unnecessary and insensitive. And it was particularly disappointing because Madonna, who I’ve worked with a lot, was involved. I couldn’t help but wonder, “Why would you choose to read that?” If I were her, I would have decided not to read it. Perhaps present it as a caption or something instead. It wouldn’t be necessary for her to deliver it.

“It’s quite disheartening for you and Danitra, specifically, I believe. They performed a remarkable feat, then expressed regret. However, their apology was not followed by action for thirty years.”
“They apologized, saying they wouldn’t do it again, but they did for three decades.”

Did you establish any relationships with other cast members aside from Danitra?
As for me, I interacted daily with Danitra. Randy, on the other hand, we didn’t communicate as frequently. He was a pleasant individual. Despite not being my closest confidant, he cooperated with all the Reagan-related activities, and I had most of the funny lines.

On set with Robert Downey Jr. and Anthony Michael Hall, it seemed more like a playground than a professional environment. Their shared room was adorned with bunk beds, reflecting their youthful spirit. They were often under the influence of something and smoking marijuana. One day, Robert Downey Jr. turned to me and remarked, “When I was a kid, I used to see auras. Yours is the biggest pink one.” To which I replied, “Thank you.” The duo were almost inseparable and would occasionally arrive late to set, prompting others to joke, “Where are the kids?

It seems that what some folks might not fully grasp is the positive impact SNL had on you, with many praising you as “the one shining light” during a season that didn’t meet expectations.

Lanier and I made history by being the first gay couple in People magazine. To declare, “I have a husband, a country home, another husband, and a dog” – everything I had ever desired – was significant. However, when I was labeled “the one bright star,” it caused some upset. People avoided me!

Wow, is that true? It seems you’re quite a standout in your group, as they refer to you as the shining gem. However, it appears that the writers weren’t particularly fond of you, often commenting that it feels like a circus has arrived!

Why do you suppose you were let go, despite the favorable reviews? Well, it seemed that the team dynamic wasn’t quite harmonious. We were all unique individuals with diverse backgrounds, and unfortunately, we didn’t click as an ensemble. Randy Quaid was exceptional in his role, but our interactions outside of work were limited – a simple “hello” here and there. There wasn’t much more to our conversations.

Are you acknowledging SNL for offering you a job?

Yes, I still do. I give credit to Lorne for hiring me. He stood by me. He never showed any signs of homophobia towards me – none at all. I’m certain he had his own pressures from the network. After that season, everyone seemed to think, “You didn’t succeed. We brought you back, and now you’ve failed again. Well, that’s it for you.” But I attribute everything to Lorne for hiring me. People needed to see a gay person on TV at that time. That was what was necessary – a vibrant, openly gay individual who wasn’t just dying but was alive, performing drag, being funny, and outrageous. And I kept hearing the same thing repeated over and over again. I received countless letters from people expressing gratitude, saying “Thank goodness you’re doing it.” They hadn’t seen anyone openly gay like that before. And indeed, I was portraying a gay character.

Were you harboring any resentment when looking back at the past? To be honest, yes, I was somewhat bitter then. However, as time went by, I managed to turn that bitterness into motivation. I became a writer-producer on MADtv, and I continued creating and writing content for various projects. In short, I’ve been quite busy working on numerous ventures.

In the ’90s, was there a feeling of camaraderie among the gay comedians? Did you pay attention when Bob Smith became the first openly gay stand-up to perform on late night television?

I had encountered him previously, but there weren’t many comedians at that time due to the fact that most people attending comedy venues were straight and from suburbs. I yearned for a sitcom. I can’t recall anyone in the comedy world who was out of the closet while performing stand-up. They kept their sexuality hidden.

Were you a fan of Scott Thompson on Kids in the Hall? To be honest, I enjoyed him, but at times, he seemed to stand out. There were moments when it felt like he didn’t quite mesh with the group, and I was curious if he ever had feelings similar to, “You should focus on your own thing.

There was Lypsinka.

It seems like you’ve moved away from traditional stand-up comedy and gravitated more towards the realm of performance art, doesn’t it? Following Saturday Night Live, I found myself drawn to this form of artistic expression as well. I traveled across the nation with my one-woman show portraying Nancy Reagan, and that’s where I encountered other individuals who were also performing. They were all engaged in fascinating and intelligent performances, but these weren’t stand-up acts.

To be honest, I never really felt like we were collaborating or pursuing a shared objective. Instead, each of us seemed to be following our individual passions and interests.

What’s the situation like in Hollywood currently?
Recently, I had a conversation that shed light on ageism. Friends contacted me from California, mentioning they needed someone resembling “Terry Sweeney.” I contacted my agent, excitedly letting him know I was available. However, he replied, “That’s wonderful news, Terry! But the role requires a ‘younger Terry Sweeney.’

What’s your next move, if you please?” In this context, I aim to convey a sense of curiosity and openness while avoiding the original phrase’s potential connotations.

Currently, one-person performances are quite popular. That’s something I’d like to attempt. I believe it would provide a suitable shelter for me – even within today’s complex political environment, if you can’t pull that off in New York City, it might be challenging to achieve it anywhere else on Earth.

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2025-02-12 17:57