‘SNL 50’ Reminded Us Why ‘Saturday Night Live’ Still Matters

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The much-talked-about SNL50 celebration finally took place this weekend, after an unrelenting onslaught of advance press. In the hilarious reply-all email thread for a book event celebrating a Lorne Michaels biography that leaked and made the rounds last week, former Vanity Fair editor-in-chief and current Air Mail head honcho Graydon Carter said, “Honestly, I have my own life. I cannot devote any more time to Lorne.” Given the massive promotional push around this anniversary, it’s a sentiment many people undoubtedly shared. Even the actual celebration was a major time commitment, with not one but two nights of programming: a Friday concert at Radio City Music Hall in New York City that featured everyone from Devo to the Backstreet Boys, followed on Sunday by a more traditional show in Studio 8H at Rockefeller Center. And boy, have people had a lot to say about both, whether or not they could be bothered to tune in.

I attended the Friday-night show and was surprised when Mumford & Sons got a more significant reaction than Devo or the (still-excellent) B-52s. Will Ferrell and Ana Gasteyer brought back their beloved SNL characters, music teachers Marty and Bobbi Mohan-Culp, and did hilarious versions of beloved current hits. But the best musical performances of the night were the vintage ones that played on the big screen during the commercial breaks. R.E.M. doing an excellent version of “What’s the Frequency Kenneth” with Michael Stipe wearing the perfect silver jeans and vintage T-shirt, and OutKast at the height of their powers doing “Miss Jackson” resonated more than the weird Lauryn Hill and Wyclef performance that happened right in front of my face.

As with most things in life that go on for a long time, we only really celebrate the version of SNL we experienced when we were young, impressionable, and not yet jaded. I remember staying up late at my friend Kevin’s house laughing hysterically at Chris Farley and his brand of brash physical comedy. But the beauty of a show like SNL is that even when it’s terrible, it’s still good, because it’s something we can all talk about together. These things are so rare now. The discourse around Kendrick Lamar’s polarizing halftime performance at the Super Bowl lasted an entire week, which is unheard of in today’s consumption climate. Awards shows, which used to hold our collective attention, only resonate if one celebrity slaps another one onstage.

Still, the celebration on Sunday made me chuckle a lot because I went in with low expectations. Eddie Murphy doing his excellent Tracy Morgan impression during “Black Jeopardy,” the Q&A portion of the show with Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, and Meryl Streep as Kate McKinnon’s white-trash mom were all highlights. Of course, there were misses. The opening monologue with Steve Martin was drier than a piece of toast, and almost all of the musical performances were abysmal. Paul Simon doing “Homeward Bound” with Sabrina Carpenter (who actually saved his weak singing) felt weird. Miley Cyrus and Brittany Howard butchering the classic “Nothing Compares 2 U” was baffling. Lil Wayne’s medley was high-energy but disjointed and confusing. And Paul McCartney, one of the best of all time, closed the show with a barely passable rendition of the “Golden Slumbers”/“Carry That Weight”/“The End” medley from Abbey Road.

But it wouldn’t be a true celebration of SNL without a few duds in the lineup. Maybe I’m too respectful of institutions or too nostalgic—or maybe I’m just turning into a boomer—but I would still rather watch Saturday Night Live than most of the comedy we’re fed on streaming services, which is becoming increasingly unremarkable schlock. I don’t need SNL to be edgy or groundbreaking. I need Weekend Update to make me laugh a few times and every third musical guest to surprise me or perform well. There is still nothing else like it on television.