Saturday Night Love

I remember exactly where I was when I watched Saturday Night Live’s 40^th Anniversary special.

I was lying in a hospital bed, a stretch of partying Belushi and Farley-style had finally caught up with me.  That week-long stint under medical care had served as a warning.  I was one of the lucky ones.  I made it out alive, but it was time to curb the nonsense before I ended up like those two late superstars, just not as heavy and not nearly as funny.

In its own way, that 40^th anniversary special shook me out of my funk and reminded me that despite the damage I’d done to myself, life was worth living.  The memories from that show resonate, Martin Short being blown back by an imaginary wind while Maya Rudolph Beyonce’d Drunk In Love beside him, Paul Simon’s Still Crazy After All These Years bringing me to tears to this day.  Those were topped only by this weekend’s SNL50, a grand celebration of all the stars I’d grown up with, and laughed at, since childhood. 

I can’t imagine that my relationship with Saturday Night Live is any more special than anyone else who grew up watching the show as religiously as I did, although I’d dare to venture that I’ve done a few more SNL deep dives than the average fan.

Growing up in New York City, you develop a special bond with the program.  Instantly recognizing SNL’s cutting-edge nature, and a huge fan herself, Mother of SportsChump allowed me to watch from the very beginning.  We were night owls anyway.  Even though there were sketches I couldn’t quite comprehend at an early age, I laughed along anyway.  Like, why is Chevy Chase doing an impersonation of Gerald Ford when he doesn’t look anything like him?  Even though I didn’t get it, the idea that comedy came not only in the form of a pratfall but more importantly from imagination, instinct and timing was planted in my head.

A few years later, when Steve Martin alongside fake-Czech brother Dan Aykroyd swung wildly and crazily, well, let’s say I learned a whole new level of laughter and an entirely new vernacular.  It might be the very first time I remember laughing so hard at anything.  It wasn’t until later in life that I realized Belushi’s Samurai Delicatessen was written by Alan Zweibel, who’d worked at an actual delicatessen.  Comedy comes from the heart, from experience, from pain, from love and from life.  And when it hits, it lasts forever.

If you ever talk to anyone my age who doesn’t steadfastly agree that Eddie Murphy is hands down the funniest man on the planet, you should probably check them for a pulse and remove them from your contacts list immediately.  Murphy’s impact on my generation cannot be understated, nor can Belushi’s, Aykroyd’s, Murray’s, Chase’s or any of the heavy hitters who came thereafter.

Through ups and downs, triumphs and tragedies, Saturday Night Live evolved and enlisted stars far too numerous to mention, who went on to make films like… get ready for it… Animal House, Caddyshack, Blues Brothers, the Vacation movies, 48 Hours, Trading Places, Stripes, Fletch, Spies Like Us, Ghostbusters, Coming to America, the Shrek movies, Groundhog Day, the Beverly Hills Cop movies, When Harry Met Sally, So I Married an Axe Murderer, the Wayne’s World movies, the Austin Powers movies, the Wedding Singer, Billy Madison, Boomerang, Happy Gilmore, Bridesmaids, Tommy Boy, The Three Amigos, Grown-Ups 2, Coneheads, Anchorman, Life, Talladega Nights, Old School, Semi-Pro and Stepbrothers.  That’s not even half of them, but if you’re reading this post, I bet you’ve seen these movies, laughed out loud and can still readily quote lines from each script.

I know I can.

Last weekend, Saturday Night Live officially celebrated fifty years of existence, and I binge-watched it all, multiple times, not getting enough.  Every performance a memory of what the show has meant to us all.  There’s the Questlove documentary on the history of SNL’s musical performances that begins with a seven-minute mash-up you won’t believe.  There are four other documentaries (all can be found on Peacock), one about the nerve-wracking history of the audition, one about a week in the life of the show from the writer’s perspective, one about the Cowbell sketch and one about that 11^th season when the show almost didn’t survive.  There’s also a film called Saturday Night, an ambitious project in which Jason Reitman (whose father Ivan directed Stripes and Ghostbusters) attempts (rather well, in my opinion) to recreate the ninety minutes before the original show aired, which is symbolic as the show has aired for ninety minutes, whether live or rebroadcast, every Saturday night since 1975.

Then there are the two live shows celebrating the 50th anniversary.  The musical performances show aired live from Radio City Music Hall on February 14^th and the Sunday Night Live show from Studio 8H in Rockefeller Center performed in front of, and with, a room full of legendary talent that included both Meryl Streep and Robert DeNiro talking about their nether regions, Paul McCartney’s and Adam Sandler’s tributes to Chris Farley and several cross-generational sketches, one which included the inimitable comedy of Eddie Murphy, Will Ferrell and SNL’s longest running cast member, Kenan Thompson.

I cried three times during the show but I’m an emotional guy.  I was ready for more, Kleenex by the bedside, BCole by my right.  Watching this collection of childhood icons reminded me that I too am getting older.  But I still love to laugh, and laugh I did, out loud, as the show, once again, did not disappoint.  The writing was impeccable, collaborations of the finest comedy writers spanning generations with the performances just as iconic.  Watching Eddie Murphy break character while getting everyone else to do so warms my heart to no end.

Fifty years of laughter has gotten me through some tough times.  Still does.  There’s not a moment that I can’t rewatch any of those classic SNL skits (and I have ad nauseum) or when my beloved BCole can’t cue up Stepbrothers to successfully get her out of a funk.

The creativity that has gone into all that writing and humor makes me simultaneously envious and grateful to be along for the ride.  And what a ride it’s been.  Making us all laugh so hard for fifty years is no small feat.  In fact, it’s a mitzvah.

I couldn’t have been any more than ten or eleven years old when Mother of SportsChump took me to a party that Gilda Radner was attending.  It was late in the evening, and I had no business being anywhere near that gathering in late 1970s New York City, if only I weren’t such a fan.  In retrospect, the amount of cocaine that was probably at that party made it wholly inappropriate for this kid to be anywhere within three city blocks, but it’s okay.  I made sure to share.

I still vividly remember to this day, looking up and seeing Gilda gracefully walking down a stairwell, then turning to my mother and asking her, as any wide-eyed, eleven-year-old would, whether she was going to do a Roseanne Rosannadanna impression.

Since then, like the rest of us, I’ve fawned over the stars, laughed at their jokes and continued to watch SNL, fully understanding that those who claim to no longer like the show or mistakenly find it unfunny aren’t paying close enough attention, or are perhaps too territorial of their favorite cast.  It is perfectly okay to laugh at all of them; following in Will Ferrell’s footsteps is no easy task.

Comedy evolves.  Just because you might relate more to a cast you grew up with or rank one higher than another based strictly on personal preference (a fun yet fruitless exercise), I’m here to assure you that the show Lorne Michaels once referred to as a “cultural upheaval” is still relevant, cutting edge and impactful.  If it weren’t, we wouldn’t be celebrating fifty years of its existence.  And we wouldn’t have so many memories about the first time we saw a particular sketch, or a subsequent movie premiere, who we were with and how hard we laughed.

I don’t know where I’d be without the memories that Saturday Night Live has provided me over the years, even if I didn’t understand it when I first experienced it.  It’s been downright revolutionary and um… LIVE.  Sometimes, we seem to forget that.   

What I know for certain is that life would be a lot more boring without this unprecedented half a century run.  The SNL cast and crew have held my hand through some difficult times and have always reminded me that, above all else, I’d rather be laughing.

Wouldn’t we all.

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