Movie Review
Saturday Night
Running time: 109 minutes. Rated R (language throughout, sexual references, drug use, brief explicit nudity). In theaters September 27th.
Lorne Michaels should write Sony a check.
That's because the studio has sent him a love letter: Their new film, “Saturday Night,” a whirlwind 90-minute comedy that takes us back to the 1975 premiere of “SNL,” celebrates the show's famously enigmatic creator.
The most important behind-the-scenes comedic force of the last 50 years, Michaels ranks as an innovator alongside the likes of Steve Jobs and Mark Zuckerberg, but without their personal flaws.
He's portrayed as an optimistic young underdog with an incredibly bold vision: an entirely live weekly sketch series starring inexperienced, unrefined unknowns on a deserted island of a time slot.
His line, “This is Sparta!” is heard at the climax, when Lorne (Gabriel LaBelle) is being grilled by NBC executive David Tebett (Willem Dafoe) about what “Saturday Night Live” is.
With his confidence restored in real time, Lorne tells a skeptical David it's discovering a rising comedian in the back of a downtown bar or getting lost in the music at an intimate jazz club.
“It was everything you'd expect to happen if you moved to the city,” says Michaels, who was 30 at the time. “That was Saturday Night.”
It's a goosebump-inducing experience.
The showdown between David and Goliath is the best and most realistic scene in director Jason Reitman's always likable movie, which had its international premiere Tuesday at the Toronto Film Festival.
The story hurtles along like the brakes have failed, and because it's Tour de Frantic, it's hard to keep up. The gist is that the hit TV show that launched countless stars was so close to being a disaster that it was taken off the air, with executives lining up reruns of “The Tonight Show” instead.
Knowing this is his only chance, Michaels races around 30 Rock and Studio 8H trying to get his creation up and running.
He must control a raucous band of starlets who treat the office like a drinking hole, or worse: John Belushi (Matt Wood, a bargain) refuses to sign his contract and heads to the bar; first host George Carlin (Matthew Rhys) snorts cocaine and develops temporomandibular joint problems.
The set isn't even finished, the dress rehearsal has lasted three hours, and an NBC page (Finn Wolfhard) stands outside on 48th Street, begging passersby to be in the audience.
On the arts fringe are corporate concerns: affiliates are in town to decide whether to air whatever this is, and whining network stars Milton Berle (J.K. Simmons) and Johnny Carson are threatened with late-night turf annexation.
There's a lot of ground to cover for a film barely longer than an “SNL” episode — and the “Noises Off”-style behind-the-scenes mayhem only accounts for a tiny fraction of the total action — but Reitman packs it in nicely, even while still delivering an onslaught that occasionally gives us whiplash.
Always in motion, “Saturday Night” feels like an hour and 45 minutes of Joan Cusack's sprint at the beginning of “Broadcast News.”
The characters barely have time to breathe, let alone speak for themselves, so we never get to know much about them beyond their familiar traits, but Reitman's aim isn't to portray that fateful night seriously, but to energetically add to show-biz mythology.
The director said onstage at the premiere that everything the cast said about the first show during interviews contradicted itself, and we get it, but the absurdity of it is part of the fun.
On October 11, 1975, Gilda Radner, Chevy Chase and Dan Aykroyd weren't yet famous — they were barely noticed in their own studios — but over the course of that year, they exploded in popularity.
So it was only fitting that when it came to casting the actors to play them, Reitman chose some of Hollywood's most talented rising stars, who would soon become household names in the US.
LaBelle, who gained attention for playing a young Steven Spielberg in “The Fabelmans,” will once again captivate audiences as the dreamy Michaels.
After watching Cory Michael Smith for years on stage and in Todd Haynes films, I never expected to see him play such a bizarre and hilarious Chase, with a gift for punchlines.
Cooper Hoffman, whose star-making moment with “Licorice Pizza” came true, brings a similarly charming verve to producer Dick Ebersol, and Ella Hunt exudes Radner's easy vivacity.
Unfortunately, there are too many performers to name. Some are better impersonators, some capture the essence of the person, and sometimes you just want to see more of a particular performer, like after a sketch is cut from an episode of “SNL.”
Either way, who would have thought I'd say this about a guy who barely speaks, but the real magic here is Labelle's Michaels. Live from New York, Lone!
