‘Saturday Night’ reliving the chaotic fun of TV show launch
- Tim Riley
'SATURDAY NIGHT' Rated R
For a column that writes about film and television, it would be almost indefensible to forgo a critical look at the film “Saturday Night,” the story of the tumultuous start to a late-night television show now just a year shy of reaching the half-century mark.
The sketch comedy variety show “Saturday Night Live,” now in its fiftieth season, has had its own turbulent history over the years as cast members, some shooting up to considerable stardom and success in films and television, would sometimes run afoul of NBC’s corporate culture.
Even Lorne Michaels, creator and producer and occasionally appearing on his own show, stepped away early on for five seasons, but remains a force behind the scenes to this day as executive producer.
The original title for the late-night program, which debuted on Oct. 11, 1975, was “NBC’s Saturday Night,” a reference overlooked in “Saturday Night” because that is a piece of trivia irrelevant to the premise of the movie.
The film, at a running time approximating the time frame of a dress rehearsal, centers on the madcap countdown to the premiere episode going live from Studio 8H at New York’s Rockefeller Center.
All eyes are on the 11:30 p.m. launch, as studio executives and other honchos, most notably an anxious Dave Tebet (Willem Dafoe) telling Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle) “your crew is in open rebellion,” indicate that the ninety minutes preceding the broadcast looms as a potential disaster of epic proportions.
The very same NBC executive is only inches away from pulling the plug, and the angry voice of Johnny Carson, host of NBC’s “The Tonight Show,” on a phone call to Michaels, is upset that a bunch of nobodies could sabotage his late-night show, even though he would benefit from their failure.
The staging of the chaotic buildup to showtime is likely exaggerated for the purpose of dramatization, and in the compressed period leading up to the show going live, the enterprise becomes a mix of fact, fiction and myth rolled into a big ball of irreverent, wacky moments.
With a rather large cast of characters, from actors and network executives to the production crew and security, even some of the notable cast members get short-shrift, but above all the focus is truly on Michaels trying to corral his counter-culture performers.
Alternately appearing energetic and at times flummoxed, Michaels is performing a juggling act, getting help from his then-wife Rosie Shuster (Rachel Sennott), a contributor to many of the sketches.
Looming over the fast-approaching launch time, Michaels has his challenges in dealing with comedians and inexperienced actors, particularly with an erratic John Belushi (Matt Wood) who avoids signing his contract until right up to the moment that the putative curtain rises.
Bad enough having to wrangle the crew, Michaels and Shuster are not only scrambling for rewrites on the fly, but also have to deal with mechanical failures, power outages, and the set catching fire, while trying to maintain a sense of sanity and calm.
An on-the-set NBC censor struggles with some objectionable material, leading to the acerbic staff writer Michael O’Donoghue (Tommy Dewey) uttering profane contempt that might have easily come from George Carlin (Matthew Rhys) who appears as a host and drops a few F-bombs.
Even a scorecard on the cast members may not prove helpful because, unless you are familiar with the original performers, not everyone is immediately recognizable in filling a certain role.
However, Chevy Chase (Cory Michael Smith) stands out, if for no other reason than famously uttering the “Live from New York, It’s Saturday Night” opening line, even though the actor bears enough to the genuine article along with the delivery of his signature pratfall.
Lamorne Morris does such a great job of being the only Black cast member as Garret Morris that you might wonder if he’s the actual offspring of the actor who later created the fictional character of Dominican baseball player Chico Escuela, speaking only in broken English.
In this large ensemble cast, there are plenty of characters reduced to cameo roles, some of them expanded. J.K. Simmons does a great turn as veteran comedian Milton Berle paying a visit to the set and unable to contain his antipathy to anarchic comedy.
While the character of Andy Kaufman (Nicholas Braun) is immediately recognizable for his unique style, the notable female cast members Jane Curtin (Kim Matula), Gilda Radner (Ella Hunt), and Laraine Newman (Emily Fairn) are regrettably underused.
One thought about “Saturday Night” is what did the filmmakers believe would be the target audience for this film? It would appear tailored to those who remember the early years, rather than a younger generation not even knowing the genesis of the “Blues Brothers” created by Belushi and Dan Aykroyd.
The selling point for “Saturday Night” is the sheer lunacy of a revolutionary turn in television history where the satirical skewering of culture and politics was a novel concept. More than anything, it’s a trip down memory lane and plenty of messy, unruly fun.
Tim Riley writes film and television reviews for Lake County News.