‘Saturday Night’ Comedy a Half-Baked Trip Down Memory Lane

‘Saturday Night’ Comedy a Half-Baked Trip Down Memory Lane

By Alex McPherson

Frenetic, scattershot, and thoroughly self-absorbed, director Jason Reitman’s “Saturday Night” might satisfy those nostalgic for the early days of “SNL,” but fails to make a name for itself on its own merits.

Presenting itself as a fictionalized version of the stressful 90 minutes leading up to the original “Saturday Night Live” (originally called “Saturday Night”) broadcast in October 1975 at Studio 8H, Reitman’s film revolves around Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle), the show’s executive producer and ringleader. Michaels remains insistent on the show’s potential while having little idea as to what it actually is.

Co-creator Dick Ebersol (Cooper Hoffman) is increasingly worried about how things will pan out, trying to reason with the ever-resistant Michaels as the cramped, claustrophobic halls of Studio 8H buzz with both excitement and growing fears of potentially spectacular failure. There’s also a llama, for some reason.

All the while, a group of unruly, up-and-coming comedians — including the arrogant yet charismatic Chevy Chase (Cory Michael Smith), Dan Aykroyd (Dylan O’Brien), Garrett Morris (Lamorne Morris, no relation), John Belushi (Matt Wood), plus several talented women such as Gilda Radner (Ella Hunt), Laraine Newman (Emily Fairn), and Jane Curtin (Kim Matula) that the film mostly treats as afterthoughts — prepare to go on-air, confronting their own mini-crises and doubts as the clock ticks, ticks, ticks toward showtime, and the history books.

Tempers run hot (the pretentious Belushi and Chase butt heads, and Belushi hasn’t even signed his contract yet), people are stoned out of their minds, lights are falling on-stage, the sound system’s busted, head writer Michael O’Donoghue (Tommy Dewey) is spewing acerbic barbs at anyone and everyone questioning his scripts, and rival late-night host Milton Berle (J.K. Simmons, typically strong) is, quite literally, waving his dong around.

Gabrielle LaBelle, Kaia Gerber and Cory Michael Smith.

NBC executive Dave Tebet (Willem Dafoe) is observing the whole production from afar, egging on Lorne with smug anticipation of his passion project’s downfall, as the whole endeavor is a pawn in NBC’s contract dispute with Johnny Carson.

Suffice to say, the stakes are high, at least in the context of these characters, who don’t yet know that SNL will wildly succeed and become a cultural institution. Watching as a casual fan of the iconic program, though, “Saturday Night” is curiously devoid of surprise, or insight, or, even, laughs. There’s way too much smugness in Reitman’s retelling of this “revolution in comedy.” The film appeals to mainstream cinema’s obsession with callbacks at the expense of telling a story worth investing in.

Still, despite its emptiness, “Saturday Night” features dynamic performances from an ensemble doing an at-times-scarily convincing job at portraying their real-life counterparts. LaBelle brings a nervous, stubborn energy that’s simultaneously inspiring and pathetic, barely tamping down Michaels’ anxiety over his passion project’s success (or downfall, but we already know it’s going to be a success).

Hoffman is typically excellent as Ebersol, channeling his father’s capacity for emotional release during a pivotal scene in the latter half of the film.

Cory Michael Smith is an obvious standout as Chase, conveying the man’s arrogance and insecurity (and hilarity) in a way that demands attention, whether we like it or not. O’Brien makes a mark with his brief screen time as Aykroyd. Morris brings some much-needed pathos as his character questions his purpose and reason for being there as the only Black cast member. Wood does what he can with Belushi, with Reitman and co writer Gil Kenan highlighting his drug use and fickleness (mostly as a punchline) — making Belushi’s will-he-won’t-he arc both semi-poignant and weirdly uncomfortable, given Belushi’s later tragedy.

Gabriel LaBelle as Lorne Michaels.

The rest of the cast — including the ever-reliable Rachel Sennott as Michaels’ then-wife, Rosie Shuster, Jon Batiste in a small-yet-memorable appearance as Billy Preston, and seemingly a million other recognizable faces playing various recognizable faces, with Nicholas Braun doing double duty as punchline-ready interpretations of Andy Kaufman and Jim Henson — are perfectly adequate, but not exactly given much to sink their teeth into narratively with their limited screen time.

Indeed, “Saturday Night” ultimately reveals itself to be little more than a carnival ride of memories and irritating dialogue that — when it’s not replicating famous jokes and sketches — takes advantage of 20/20 hindsight to constantly pat itself on the back.

Reitman and co-writer Gil Kenan’s script takes an Aaron-Sorkin-esque approach in its witticisms, fast pace, and at-times blatant sentimentality as it literally clicks down the moments until showtime, incorporating as many famous gags as possible that loyal viewers are expected to get excited about. Some barbs and vignettes amid the chaos are amusing, and “Saturday Night” is never less than watchable, if usually superficial.

Cory Michael Smith as Chevy Chase.

Eric Steelberg’s textured, 16mm cinematography weaves throughout the studio’s sweaty interiors, faithfully recreated with attention to period detail in sets and costuming, making plentiful use of long takes and whip-pans.

The film careens from one easter egg to another — complete with its own pseudo laugh track of characters cracking up; the film desperately begs us to laugh along with them. Batiste’s percussion-laden score, combined with Nathan Orloff and Shane Reid’s editing, helps create a fittingly frantic, albeit artificial, sense of paranoia that highlights the film’s construction as an allegedly off-the-rails roller coaster that’s never truly allowed to chart its own path.

It’s fine: There’s just not much there beyond the film playing to viewers’ nostalgia. And maybe that’s acceptable for those who’d like to coast on the associated dopamine rush. Myself, however, not so much. “Saturday Night” is never bad (far from it), but it never ascends beyond average — a self-congratulatory tribute to the groundbreaking show in a puzzlingly vanilla framework.

“Saturday Night” is a 2024 comedy based on a true story, directed by Jason Reitman, and starring Gabriel LaBelle, Cooper Hoffman, Willem Dafoe, Corey Michael Smith, Lamorne Morris, Rachel Sennott, Matt Wood, Dylan O’Brien, Ella Hunt, Kim Matula, Emily Fairn, Nicholas Braun, Jon Batiste, Tommy Dewey and JK Simmons. It is rated R for language throughout, sexual references, some drug use and brief graphic nudity and the run time is 1 hour, 49 minutes. It opened in theaters Oct. 11. Alex’s Grade: C

Lively ‘Saturday Night’ Re-creates a TV Landmark’s First Broadcast with Outstanding Ensemble Cast

Lively ‘Saturday Night’ Re-creates a TV Landmark’s First Broadcast with Outstanding Ensemble Cast

By Lynn Venhaus

The unpredictable Not Ready for Prime Time Players would go on to become household names. A shaggy group of irreverent writers would ignite a counterculture revolution with their parodies of contemporary culture and sharp political satire. And a young and scrappy Canadian would lead the inspired chaos of a late-night live sketch comedy show into showbiz history when “Saturday Night” premiered on Oct. 11, 1975.

With “Saturday Night Live” about to celebrate 50 years on television, it’s the right time to revisit the show’s frenetic start in NBC’s Studio 8H in Rockefeller Plaza. Writer-director Jason Reitman’s dramatic comedy finds the beating heart in this runaway train ride depicted in the 90 minutes leading up to the inaugural broadcast.

Along with co-writer Gil Kenan, their “based on a true story” captures the frenetic pace and the backstage lunacy that forever changed late-night comedy. It was a “big bang” that redefined the television landscape, and while a mini-series could do the origin story justice, this focused narrative framework succeeds in pulling back the curtain.

In a kinetic snapshot of what happened that fateful wild and crazy night, Gabriel LaBelle anchors the best ensemble cast of the year as the confident producer Lorne Michaels.

LaBelle, who was impressive as young Steven Spielberg in “The Fabelmans” two years ago, plays the driven big dreamer who believes in his instincts and the largely unknown cast’s talents. He’s the calm circus ringleader in the eye of the storm amidst the gusty winds threatening to blow it all down.

Gabriel LaBelle, center, as Lorne Michaels

From the start, Michaels has produced all but five years of the show, leaving in 1980 when Jane Curtin, Garrett Morris, Laraine Newman and Gilda Radner were the last original cast members to depart, and returning for the 1985-86 season.

He started out as a comedy writer whose credits included “Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In” and now oversees a vast empire of last-night television and feature films. Michaels’ first wife, Rosie Shuster, is portrayed by a sharp Rachel Sennott as an integral force, both as a writer and someone putting fires out.

As the clock counts down to the live launch, there isn’t time for in-depth character portrayals; instead, we get snippets of familiar personality traits from those emerging stars Dan Aykroyd (Dylan O’Brien), Gilda Radner (Ella Hunt), Laraine Newman (Emily Fairn), Jane Curtin (Kim Matula) and Garrett Morris (Lamorne Morris, no relation), with Chevy Chase (Cory Michael Smith) and John Belushi (Matt Wood)’s well-documented egos and clashes getting more screen time.

The seven actors quickly convey their quirks and foreshadow the stars they would become. Standouts here include O’Brien as a minutiae devotee and big flirt Aykroyd, Emmy-winning Morris as the underused Morris — a multi-hyphenate perplexed at his inclusion, and Smith as quick-witted, arrogant and self-absorbed Chase, the show’s first break-out movie star.

The women, understandably, are trying to find their place in the boys’ club, which is representative of those early years.

The nostalgia factor is big here for longtime fans of the show, especially those of us who watched the first episode in real time (My college roommates and I tuned in, presumably because we were big George Carlin fans, for we did not recognize the others, except for Billy Preston because he played with The Beatles). A film by Albert Brooks? Jim Henson and his Muppets?

Now, fans of the National Lampoon Radio Hour (1973 – 1974) were familiar with cast members Chevy, Belushi and Gilda. Its creator, Michael O’Donoghue, a jaded, cynical anarchist, went on to be SNL’s cutting-edge head writer for three years. His tussles with the network censors’ red pens must have been headache-inducing.

Reitman’s condensed depiction of legendary writers Al Franken, Tom Davis, Alan Zweibel, and Herb Sargent (Tracy Letts!) is noteworthy. While not all sketch development is accurate timeline-wise, the inclusion of Aykroyd’s Julia Child parody where she gushes blood from a cut artery during a taping of “The French Chef” is a good one to mention – and so is the construction workers’ gender reversal cat calls with Aykroyd as the objectified — even though both were on later shows.

Reitman’s reverence for all things SNL is admirable – and understandable, for it continues to be a force in the cultural zeitgeist. His father, Ivan, directed Aykroyd and Bill Murray in 1984’s biggest box-office hit “Ghostbusters” and other movies featuring alumni.

Jason Reitman’s previous comedies “Juno” and “Up in the Air” showed much potential, so it’s nice to see him navigate this incredible moment in time and do so with a clear-cut vision and savvy casting choices.

Fellow nepo baby (in a good way) Cooper Hoffman, Philip Seymour Hoffman’s son, is a perfect foil as ambitious Dick Ebersol, rocking the polyester suits as the late-night director of programming. (He’d later go on to produce SNL after Michaels’ left.)

Portraying the old guard is Willem Dafoe as humorless network vice president of talent relations Bob Tebet, who’d be happy to run another Johnny Carson “Tonight Show” re-run instead.

Nicholas Braun as Andy Kaufman

In small but essential roles, musical wunderkind Jon Batiste plays musical guest Billy Preston and Nicholas Braun (Emmy-nominated Cousin Greg on “Succession”) astutely characterizes up-and-coming Andy Kaufman’s brilliant schtick and as a naïve but talented puppeteer Jim Henson, clearly ahead of his time.

Matthew Rhys, Emmy winner for “The Americans,” is a snarling George Carlin who does not want to play nice with others in sketches.JK Simmons swoops in to steal his scenes as cantankerous old-guard comic Milton Berle, representing a different generational style.

Batiste also composed the propulsive original music score, which adds to the fast-paced freewheeling vibe. Reitman’s go-to cinematographer Eric Steelberg offers insight into the adrenaline rush while Jess Gonchor’s production design overstuffs Studio 8H plausibly.

An engaging whirlwind representing a collaborative creative process that sparked a comedic revolution, “Saturday Night” takes us back to an extraordinary leap of faith that resonates today. No need to give us a roadmap of the past half-century because we know the rest of its remarkable history.

Lamorne Morris as Garrett Morris.

Notes: To learn more, “Live from New York: The Complete, Uncensored History of Saturday Night Live as Told by Its Stars, Writers, and Guests,” first published in 2002, is a definitive oral history by James Andrew Miller and Tom Shales.

Two documentaries on the short, brilliant and troubled lives of two of the show’s biggest stars, “Belushi” (2020) and “Love, Gilda” (2018) are available to watch on subscription streaming services, and for digital rental.

“Saturday Night” is a 2024 comedy based on a true story, directed by Jason Reitman, and starring Gabriel LaBelle, Cooper Hoffman, Willem Dafoe, Cory Michael Smith, Lamorne Morris, Rachel Sennott, Matt Wood, Dylan O’Brien, Ella Hunt, Kim Matula, Emily Fairn, Nicholas Braun, Jon Batiste, Tommy Dewey and JK Simmons. It is rated R for language throughout, sexual references, some drug use and brief graphic nudity and the run time is 1 hour, 49 minutes. It opened in theaters Oct. 11. Lynn’s Grade: A-.

‘Bodies Bodies Bodies’ Is a Stressful and Surprisingly Deep Satire

‘Bodies Bodies Bodies’ Is a Stressful and Surprisingly Deep Satire

By Alex McPherson

Sharp and cynical with plenty on its mind, director Halina Reijn’s “Bodies Bodies Bodies” delivers an unpredictable, ruthless, and highly entertaining experience.

Taking place in today’s age of Twitter and TikTok, the film centers around a “hurricane party” that goes dreadfully wrong. Sophie (Amandla Stenberg), a recovering addict who doesn’t text much in the all-powerful group chat, brings along her new boo, Bee (Maria Bakalova), a soft-spoken immigrant who’s less financially well-off than the rest of the gang. They’re heading to a mansion owned by the parents of David (Pete Davidson), who is trying desperately to seem manly.

Also present are David’s insecure-actor-girlfriend, Emma (Chase Sui Wonders), gregarious and “woke” podcaster Alice (Rachel Sennott), Alice’s much-older boyfriend, Greg (Lee Pace), and the enigmatic Jordan (Myha’la Herrold), whose snide remarks invite suspicion early on. David, Emma, Alice, and Jordan — most with their own fraught history with Sophie — are weirded out that Sophie decided to show up to the party at all, setting the stage for plenty of tea to be spilled.

After most of the lot is sufficiently drunk and coked-up, the music blares, the storm rages, and Sophie suggests they play “Bodies Bodies Bodies.” First, everyone sits in a circle, takes a shot, and punches the person to their left — which, unsurprisingly, becomes emotionally charged, despite frequent reminders that they’re just doing it for funsies.

Then, they play a variation on the Murder in the Dark formula where a “killer” is selected, the lights go out, someone is tagged, and the players regroup to debate who did it. Unfortunately, the real bodies soon start piling up. With the wi-fi out, the Gen-Zers — plus 40-year-old Greg — revert to their dangerously self-absorbed tendencies, amplifying their petty conflicts into life-and-death stakes as they try to locate the true killer.

“Bodies Bodies Bodies” might not be for everyone, especially older folks, but Reijin’s suspenseful, layered, and memorable film expertly threads a needle where humor intertwines with tragedy. It doesn’t hurt that the entire cast absolutely nails their respective roles, bringing pathos to characters who often make narcissistic decisions to mask their insecurities. 

Indeed, “Bodies Bodies Bodies” doesn’t paint flattering portraits of any of them, but portrays them as lost souls so wrapped up in privilege and self-centeredness that strong communication is thrown to the wayside. Their dialogue — pervasively deploying topical buzzwords like “woke,” “ally,” “triggered,” “gaslight,” and more — provides plenty of laughs, but operates on a deeper metaphorical level as well.

Their exaggerated personalities represent a distillation of social media’s anti-social repercussions and their shelteredness from the outside world. They lack the skills, willingness, and intelligence necessary to evaluate the situation rationally, at the same time twisting those aforementioned buzzwords to apply to themselves, zapping them from meaning, and blowing up their “drama” so much that it turns to downright animalism.

That the film is still often hilarious is an achievement in itself, thanks to Sarah DeLappe’s screenplay and the whole cast. Sennott, memorable in “Shiva Baby,” once again shows her knack for comedic timing in several tirades that are simultaneously eye-rolling, gut-bustingly funny, and concerning, as this pressure cooker of a film continues to gain steam.

Davidson brings his usual off-kilter shtick with some genuinely uncomfortable moments sprinkled in, exemplifying the film’s tonal shifts from ridiculous to shocking. Pace is also great as Greg, a Gen-Xer more separated from the others’ worldviews.

Bakalova, who was so good in “Borat Subsequent Moviefilm,” brings an air of mystery and maybe-innocence to the character of Bee, from whose perspective the film largely takes place. Bee, the odd one out, is essentially trapped with a bunch of crazy people, but has her own secrets nevertheless that paint a target on her back.

Wonders, as Emma, effectively conveys her cattiness and fragility. Stenberg gives a stellar performance, rendering Sophie one of the more multifaceted partygoers, her naivete creating more issues than solutions. Herrold is perhaps the standout of them all, lending a stern calculation to Jordan’s actions largely fueled by economic and romantic anxieties.

As the chaos ensues, Jasper Wolf’s claustrophobic, handheld cinematography, with many scenes lit by glow-sticks and smartphone flashlights, fits the proceedings like a glove, underlining the long-held resentments between the “friends.” The electronic-sounding score, by Disasterpiece, is fittingly paranoid and jumpy, reflecting the digital sphere turning into a figurative warzone. The soundtrack, including a track by Charlie XCX, is laced with irony. 

No spoilers here, but the final reveal is perfect, reframing everything that came before in new light that should benefit repeat viewings. Taken as a whole, “Bodies Bodies Bodies” is far more than a mere cringe-comedy or a seen-it-before slasher movie. Rather, this is a satire with real bite, demonstrating a thesis that resonates in our increasingly divided reality.

“Bodies Bodies Bodies” is a 2022 horror comedy thriller directed by Halina Reijin and starring Rachel Sennott, Maria Bakalova, Pete Davidson, Lee Pace, Myha’la Herrold, Amanda Stenberg and Chase Sui Wonders. Rated R for violence, bloody images, drug use, sexual references and pervasive language, its run time is 1 hour, 34 minutes. It opened in theaters Aug. 5. Alex’s Grade: A 

QFest Preview: ‘Tahara’ – A Resonant Teenage Tale

QFest Preview: ‘Tahara’ – A Resonant Teenage Tale

By Alex McPherson

Olivia Peace’s directorial debut, “Tahara,” provides an incisive look at identity, grief, and societal pressures.

Unfolding during a single day within a Jewish synagogue, the film centers on best friends Carrie Lowstein (Madeline Grey DeFreece) and Hannah Rosen (Rachel Sennott) as they attend the funeral services for their Hebrew school classmate, Samantha Goldstein, who was shunned by her community for her queerness. Carrie, a soft-spoken Black woman, quickly realizes the hypocrisy on display from her peers and instructors, especially during the “Teen Talk-back” session in which she and her classmates are forced to discuss faith in relation to Samantha’s death. They are enacting a performative ritual that contradicts how many of them treated Samantha while she was alive. 

Everyone besides Carrie is seemingly driven by selfish interests, especially Hannah — an impulsive, reckless individual. Hannah is solely focused on attracting the attention of pretty boy Tristan Leibowitz (Daniel Taveras), rather than on grieving the loss of her classmate. After she coerces Carrie into “practicing” her kissing skills, Carrie’s true feelings for her come to the forefront. Hannah is forced to confront her own insecurities, and Carrie must navigate the troubled waters of their friendship.

Although the topics broached don’t break the mold for the coming-of-age genre, “Tahara” makes a positive impression from its opening frames and remains compelling throughout. 

The film’s distinctive style is apparent from the get-go — utilizing a 1:1 aspect ratio that creates a confined atmosphere, enhanced through frequent long takes. Additionally, when the characters experience a euphoric moment, the picture widens to fill the entire screen. During the aforementioned kiss, for example, colors whirl from all directions while Carrie and Hannah become smooching claymation figures — briefly existing on a different plane of existence, only to return to the restrictive norm immediately after.

Indeed, the whole film revolves around Carrie and Hannah’s relationship, as their bond is put to the test. Carrie’s mild-mannered personality sharply contrasts with Hannah’s, but “Tahara” effectively conveys their years of friendship through dialogue that, while often sardonic, feels authentic. DeFreece gives a particularly noteworthy performance as an individual facing challenges from multiple angles who eventually recognizes the importance of asserting herself. 

While Carrie remains sympathetic, Hannah is practically unbearable. Her self-absorption makes her difficult to watch at times, and her stubborn resistance to change proves incredibly frustrating. Sennott’s masterful performance, though, renders Hannah more complicated than she initially seems — an individual deeply unsure of her future and grappling with the person she wants to become. Although the film’s condensed time-frame limits how much we can learn about Carrie and Hannah individually, “Tahara” does a commendable job at illustrating their tensions, rendering each deeply human. 

Overlooking a few exaggerated side characters, Peace’s film successfully peels back the layers of its subjects’ cynicism to reveal a tragic, at times heartbreaking situation with young adults weighed down by external expectations. Religion, mourning, regret, self discovery, social status, and toxic friendships are all explored to various extents in this microcosm of teenage uncertainty. 

Despite some jokes that fail to land and occasionally heavy-handed symbolism, “Tahara” remains engaging from beginning to end. I wish Peace’s film wasn’t limited to showing a single day in the life of these characters, however, as the conclusion remains frustratingly open-ended and fails to give one specific character the resolution they deserve. The film’s initially comedic bent gives way to straight-up drama by the end credits, not shying away from ambiguity and leaving the future unpredictable.

Multifaceted and surprisingly ambitious, “Tahara” is a coming-of-age film worth experiencing, as well as an impressive calling card for director Peace.

“Tahara” is a 2020 movie directed by Olivia Peace that runs 78 minutes. It is a narrative feature selected for Cinema St Louis’ annual QFest, which will take place virtually April 16-25. For ticket information and festival offerings, visit www.cinemastlouis.com/qfest. Alex’s rating: B+