You never think about the miracle that is live television. There are so many moving pieces and so many chances for things to go wrong. Not that filmmaking or any art isn’t constantly at risk of failing at any moment. There are countless stories of projects that fell apart or never made it off the ground. Most of the time you never hear about them. But with live television, when something goes wrong, falls apart or flat-out fails, everybody knows.
These are the stakes for director Jason Reitman’s wonderful new film, Saturday Night. Set in the 90 minutes leading up to the first broadcast of “Saturday Night Live,” the film follows a young Lorne Michaels (Gabriel Labelle) as he attempts to pull a show together out of the chaos that is surrounding him before NBC executives pull the plug. And I mean chaos. To paraphrase Willem Dafoe’s character David Tebet, the actors are physically assaulting each other, the writers are high, the sound system doesn’t work, and there is a fire on the stage. Not what you need before a live show, but it makes for a great movie tension.
Reitman and co-writer Gil Kenan’s script is snappy, fast-paced, and often hilarious, if not a bit shallow at times. But it keeps the film moving. There is never a dull moment or a fire for Lorne to put out, literally and figuratively, at all times. Jim Henson (Nicholas Braun) doesn’t have his pages, John Belushi (Matthew Wood) is missing, and Chevy Chase (Cory Michael Smith) is being Chevy Chase. Mostly told in real-time, Reitman keeps his camera moving, never letting it rest unless there is a softer moment. For the most part, the camera whips from one problem to another without a second to breathe, sometimes following a character for an extended amount of time. Excellent blocking keeps people moving in and out of the frame while the percussive-based score adds to the tension.
At times, it does feel like a thriller. While there aren’t life or death stakes, it certainly feels like that to Lorne. The only character we get to know a little bit about. Sure, there are tidbits here and there about other members of SNL’s inaugural cast and crew, but nothing really beyond the surface level. We root for Lorne because he’s the underdog, the one the NBC executives want to fail, but beyond his unrelenting passion and love for the craft, we don’t fully understand Lorne. Not that a movie like this needs to have a deeply crafted protagonist full of ethos and whatnot, but a little bit more would have been nice. The supporting cast is full of recognizable names, but for the uninitiated, I sense it would be hard to keep up with. The film feels less like Steve Jobs and more like a Richard Linklater hang-out film. The appearance of 1970s celebrities whizzing by might not mean much to those who weren’t alive at the time or did their homework.
I don’t think Reitman really cares, either. This film isn’t for them. This is a well-crafted love letter to a bygone era, down to the look of the film. There are imperfections in the picture, including scratches and film grain, to create an authentic 1970s look. It really helps add to the atmosphere of that time. At a time when “Saturday Night Live” was revolutionary, everyone chain-smoked and misogyny ran wild. Reitman doesn’t linger on the latter two, but he doesn’t shy away. There isn’t some nostalgic coating plastered all over the film. It’s 90 minutes in the 1970s, warts and all. Reitman doesn’t create a glossy version of history, he wants to show why this moment was important and how it birthed some of the greatest comedians and entertainers we have ever seen. Including several who would go on to work with Reitman’s late father Ivan.
As “Saturday Night Live” turns 50 this year, it would be easy to turn the film into a propaganda-like victory lap. Portraying Lorne as the unsung hero who revolutionized television and saved comedy. Instead, SNL’s legacy is left to the audience to determine, Saturday Night just wants you to know that the fact it even exists is a minor miracle.
4/5