Saturday Night

Tropic Sprockets by Ian Brockway

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In the mid-1970s as a kid, I became extremely excited watching late night TV. I was aided in this venture by massive doses of sugar or asthma medication known as Marax. The show that got me going was “Saturday Night Live” known for its irreverent humor and madcap comedy. It was seen as the American parallel to Monty Python. I stayed up far into the wee hours as the blue gray dawn blended with the metallic blues of my Sony Trinitron TV set in the living room.

A new film, “Saturday Night” by Jason Reitman (“Ghostbusters: Afterlife”), captures the manic spirit of this show along with its anarchist philosophy. It focuses on the production of the first episode on October 11, 1975, at 10:30 PM, 90 minutes before airing. In the first instants, Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle) is pacing nervously outside studio 8H waiting for the arrival of comedian Andy Kaufman (Nicholas Braun). Abruptly, without warning, a flaming bit of paper falls from a top floor just missing him. Beside himself, Lorne rushes back to 30 Rock only to find the studio lighting crashing to the ground nearly hitting the cast, leading John Belushi (Matt Wood) to attack one of the technicians.

This sets in motion an extremely hectic chain of events with Belushi attacking Chevy Chase (Cory Michael Smith) due in large part to Chevy’s arrogance.
In the midst of this, George Carlin (Matthew Rhys) walks out of production because of the supposed silliness of the sketches and Belushi threatens to walk out because he feels dressing in a bumblebee costume is beneath his talent.

Added to this is the tension of NBC network executives headed by David Tebet (Willem Dafoe) who threaten to terminate the show over a lack of coherence or format. Last but not least, an evangelical network censor (Catherine Curtin) refuses to approve the risqué script.

Finally, just at the moment of easing things with Belushi, Lorne gets shellacked with red paint ala “Carrie,” by Al Franken (Taylor Gray).

A cheerless, stern Jim Henson (also Nicholas Braun) appears throughout the chaos like a troublesome ghost complaining about not being taken seriously because he works with cloth Muppets. To Henson, the Muppets are actual people.

Much in the manner of a suspense film, one begins to worry about Lorne Michaels and his drive to carry out his free wheeling counterculture show. Within a very short time, it seems supernatural forces are actually conspiring against him in a very real and tangible manner.

Cue the sage.

A highlight of the film is Lamorne Morris as primary cast member Garrett Morris (no relation). He singularly steals the show with his coupling of charm, dedication, weariness, and self-doubt. Lamorne uncannily embodies Garrett.

Cory Michael Smith is perfect as the egotistical Chase who has an acidic sparring contest with Milton Berle (JK Simmons) involving male genitals. Matt Wood is also vivid as the legendary Belushi: supercharged with energy yet unsatisfied and perpetually restless.

The one slight reservation is the underuse of the female cast. One receives little to no character information from Gilda Radner (Ella Hunt) Lorraine Newman (Emily Fairn) or Jane Curtin (Kim Matula). Given that these three groundbreaking women were a crucial part of the show, all but diminishing them down to a few exchanges is a missed opportunity, if not a glaring oversight.

This regrettable minimalization, however, does not take away from the absolute wonder or pathos of the film.

You will be enraptured by worry and hope for Lorne Michaels to realize his concept against the forever passing of seconds. Saturday Night (Evolving into Saturday Night Live) was not a mere variety show, it was from its birth, a spontaneous recording, and a living testament to the magic of New York as both a city and an eccentric landscape.

Indeed, with electricity and surprise, the film’s final words “Live from New York, it’s Saturday Night!” carry startling charge and emotion akin to the original “Rocky.”

Write Ian at ianfree11@yahoo.com