Jason Reitman's Saturday Night is a film that wants to be many things: a love letter to Saturday Night Live, a tribute to Lorne Michaels, and a frenetic snapshot of 1970s counterculture. But in its attempt to mythologize the origins of one of television's most iconic shows, it stumbles into the trap of hagiography, reducing a group effort into a one-man show.
The film focuses on the 90 minutes leading up to the debut of Saturday Night Live (then simply called Saturday Night), portraying Michaels (played by Gabriel LaBelle) as a hyper-competent wunderkind navigating the chaos of live television. But in its quest to elevate Michaels to the status of comedy deity, it sidelines the very artists—George Carlin, Andy Kaufman, Jim Henson—who made the show legendary.
The Good: Aesthetic Ambition and Nostalgia
Reitman's direction is undeniably energetic. He employs handheld cameras, rapid-fire editing, and a pulsating score to replicate the cocaine-fueled chaos of 1970s New York. The film's aesthetic is a love letter to New Hollywood, with its gritty textures and frenzied pacing. J.K. Simmons' portrayal of Milton Berle, though historically inaccurate, adds a layer of generational conflict that's both entertaining and absurd.
The film also captures the cultural significance of SNL's debut. In 1975, television was dominated by safe, sanitized variety shows. SNL was a seismic shift, a platform for countercultural voices and boundary-pushing comedy. Reitman effectively conveys the stakes of this moment, even if he oversells its importance.
The Bad: Historical Inaccuracies and Overblown Drama
Where Saturday Night falters is in its fidelity to history—or lack thereof. The film takes liberties with the timeline, inserting events and characters that either didn't happen or occurred years later. For example, Milton Berle's infamous SNL hosting disaster happened in 1979, not 1975. Similarly, Johnny Carson's alleged interference is pure fiction, a contrived attempt to inject drama into an already compelling story.
The film's portrayal of Michaels as a lone genius is equally problematic. While Michaels' vision was undeniably crucial, SNL was a collaborative effort. By reducing the contributions of Carlin, Kaufman, and others to mere footnotes, Saturday Night does a disservice to the very people who made the show groundbreaking.
The Ugly: Tone-Deaf Timing
The release of Saturday Night couldn't have been more ill-timed. In an era where audiences are increasingly skeptical of powerful figures—be it Donald Trump, Elon Musk, or even Lorne Michaels—the film's uncritical veneration of Michaels feels tone-deaf. The inclusion of Trump and Musk in SNL's recent history only underscores this disconnect, highlighting the show's shift from countercultural icon to establishment darling.
Conclusion: A Missed Opportunity
Saturday Night is a film that tries to do too much and ends up doing too little. While it captures the frenetic energy of SNL's early days, it sacrifices historical accuracy and nuance in favor of melodrama and hero worship. Reitman's direction is stylish, but the script lacks the depth and complexity needed to do justice to such a pivotal moment in comedy history.
Jason Reitman's Saturday Night is a visually dynamic but ultimately flawed tribute to the birth of Saturday Night Live. While it succeeds in capturing the chaotic energy of 1970s New York and the cultural significance of SNL's debut, it falters in its historical inaccuracies and overblown portrayal of Lorne Michaels as a comedy messiah. The film's timing is particularly unfortunate, arriving at a moment when audiences are increasingly critical of powerful figures and institutions. Despite its ambition, Saturday Night feels like a missed opportunity—a film that prioritizes style over substance and myth over reality.
Do you think Saturday Night does justice to the origins of SNL, or does it oversimplify a complex moment in comedy history?
