Showing posts with label Steve Martin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Steve Martin. Show all posts

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Steve Martin

I am not a man of too many accomplishments, but there is one achievement that I am very proud of. In college, as a Theatre minor, I got to direct an adaptation of Steve Martin's play "WASP." "WASP" is a clever satire of 1950s American nostalgia, using a family of four as a vehicle to poke fun at the "Leave It to Beaver" traditionalism and "simplicity" of the time. I cast a group of friends and fellow Theatre folks for the project. One of them, a very talented young man who excelled at improv and creating eccentric characters, had a goatee and long, curly red hair; he was cast as the young boy of the family--the goatee remained. It was an introduction for me to theatre of the absurd.

Steve Martin, who was rightfully and humorously described by Steve Carell as an "American treasure," is one of the great masters of absurdism. Consider his stand-up career in the '70s when he would strut around the stage with an arrow through his head, or when he danced majestically with Gilda Radner on "Saturday Night Live." Hell, in his first movie, "The Jerk," he told us he was "born a poor black child" and is stunned to learn that in reality is white. "The Jerk" is not his funniest film--the winner of that title goes to John Hughes' "Planes, Trains & Automobiles." Playing a common man struggling to make it home in time for Thanksgiving, he faces hurdle after Job-like hurdle, and on his journey he is joined by the late, great John Candy. Martin's character clearly despises Candy's, despite how gosh-darn nice the latter is. Perhaps the most famous scene is when the two, forced to share a hotel room, wake up to find themselves a bit too close to each other. But the best scene, the scene where we really connect with him, is his diatribe to the car rental lady, and here it is verbatim:

Car Rental Agent: How may I help you?
Neal: You can start by wiping that fucking dumb-ass smile off your rosey, fucking cheeks. And you can give me a fucking automobile: a fucking Datsun, a fucking Toyota, a fucking Mustang, a fucking Buick! Four fucking wheels and a seat!
Car Rental Agent: I really don't care for the way you're speaking to me.
Neal: And I really don't care for the way your company left me in the middle of fucking nowhere with fucking keys to a fucking car that isn't fucking there. And I really didn't care to fucking walk, down a fucking highway, and across a fucking runway to get back here to have you smile in my fucking face. I want a fucking car right fucking now.
Car Rental Agent: May I see your rental agreement?
Neal: I threw it away.
Car Rental Agent: Oh, boy.
Neal: Oh boy what?
Car Rental Agent: You're fucked!


I think we all sort of fantasize about delivering a tirade in that manner when things don't go our way, particularly when we're up against a company, but the result Neal faces is what we truly fear and what ultimately deters us. Incidentally, reading the dialogue makes Neal appear quite psychotic, but watching Martin deliver the lines, slowly and clearly emphasizing all those f-bombs without being bombastic, shows us he's just really, really stressed and really, really thinks (knows) he has been wronged.

The American Film Institute's honor of Steve Martin will air tonight on TBS. Truth be told, the AFI ceremony is usually the best of the year. It's better than the Oscars, the Kennedy Center Honors, and even the Golden Globes. Past ceremonies have included Sean Connery dancing better than any man half his age to Scottish music, Jim Carrey bringing Meryl Streep to tears of laughter, Betty White performing an adaptation of "Hello Dolly" to Morgan Freeman, and William Shatner singing "My Way" to his fellow star voyager, George Lucas. Another highlight was when Bill Clinton showed up to explain to the audience how Warren Beatty single-handedly convinced a woman to vote for George McGovern (who also was in attendance that night). Martin himself is no stranger to the ceremonies, as he attended the one for Jack Lemmon and years later for Tom Hanks, reminding everyone that Hanks has spoken some of the most iconic lines in movie history: "Houston, we have a problem," "life is like a box of chocolates," and of course, "I prefer it my way, Mr. Spielberg."


In recent years, Martin, a legend of American comedy, has rightfully earned a plate of honors, and now the AFI award, which the AFI claims is the highest honor one can receive in American film. In addition to "The Jerk," "Planes, Trains & Automobiles," and the wonderful "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels," attention might be given to some of the weaker Martin films, like "Three Amigos," but one way or another, with appearances by Conan O'Brien, Tina Fey, Martin Short and others, the show is likely to be an entertaining one. Steve Martin is one for the ages, a true delight, and one whom America will love for all time.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

SNL40

BLTN

"Tonight Show" host Jimmy Fallon and Justin Timberlake opened the 40th anniversary special of "Saturday Night Live" with a practically comprehensive rap of memorable moments of the most important comedy institution in American history. Energetic and zany, the right mood was set immediately. And then the man himself -- one half of the Wild and Crazy Guys, King Tut, a.k.a Steve Martin -- entered the center of Studio 8H, as he has done 15 other times over the past four decades, to formally introduce the show. Martin made sure the show wouldn't lose its edginess, mentioning to his audience (the SNL family at their seats and the estimated 23 million people at home) that the anniversary feels like a high school reunion, "a high school that is almost all white," ribbing the show for its controversial lack of diversity. Tom Hanks, usually not one of the funniest but certainly one of the most likable hosts in the show's history, and Alec Baldwin, the man who currently holds the record for hosting appearances, both joined Martin. So, too, did Billy Crystal, who was set to appear on the very first episode back in 1975 but was cut for time and eventually hosted and then joined the cast, helping to fill a post-Eddie Murphy void in the mid-80s.

But then, in addition to these four, came Chris Rock, who was better later on in the evening giving a heartfelt tribute to Murray, his idol, and then came Melisa McCarthy, Peyton Manning, and Miley Cyrus in what quickly became SNL celebrity-crowding at its worst; not even Paul McCartney and Paul Simon making their way to sing "I've Just Seen a Face" in wonderful harmony could save this sinking ship. But saved it became. Six minutes of montage clips -- featuring, among many others, the Blues Brothers, Gumbi, Schweddy Balls, and a man living in a van down by the river -- chronologically showcased SNL's golden moments, and should do more than enough to remind everyone of the significance of this New York -- American -- tradition. But was this telecast really three hours long? Yes, it was. Unnecessarily so, and frankly, "Saturday Night Live" over the years often has felt like it could have done better with a little less rather than a little more. Why was it necessary to have Kate McKinnon as Justin Bieber, Baldwin as Tony Bennett, and Tarem Killam as Christoph Waltz in the "Celebrity Jeopardy" sketch when Will Ferrell as Alex Trebek, Darrell Hammond as Sean Connery, Jim Carrey as Matthew McConaughey and Norm Macdonald as Burt Reynolds sufficed? Kristen Wiig and Bill Hader's comedic perfection wasn't enough to rescue the never-ending, yet delightfully sophomoric, "Californians." (Taylor Swift and whatever accent that was shoved in the killing knife.) Emma Stone was funny several years ago singing about her broken arm, but impersonating Gilda Radner's Roseanne Roseannadanna was simply awkward.

But the show was mostly wonderful, funny and tearful, politely yet unabashedly reminding the world why it is still needed. We were shown clips of original auditions of cast members -- Jon Lovitz, Jay Pharaoh, Will Forte, Radner, and others -- and some whom producer Lorne Michaels surely regrets not hiring, like Carrey, Stephen Colbert, and Zach Galifianakis. Jack Nicholson reminded the audience of what America was like in 1975 -- the last Americans were leaving Vietnam, Watergate was still fresh on everyone's mind, and President Ford, according to the New York Post, felt NYC should "drop dead." SNL in those days responded with furious gusto, allowing a tall, handsome comic who shared virtually no physical similarity to Ford convince Americans that a few stumbles equaled complete clumsiness and stupidity. Perhaps no other show has done more to shape how Americans have viewed their political leaders. (Bush even called his meetings "strategery meetings," and Tina Fey turned Sarah Palin's explanation of Russia's proximity to Alaska into "I can see Russia from my house.") The show did not refrain that night either. Original cast member Jane Curtin joined fellow former "Weekend Update" anchors Fey and Amy Poehler to note that she used to be the only pretty blond presenting fake news; "now, there's a whole networked devoted to that."

After the re-airing of the hilarious "Colon Blow" fake commercial in its entirety, Martin Short (whose one season of SNL, with Crystal and others, turned him into a household name in America) and Maya Rudolph as Beyonce introduced several returning members to recreate some of their memorable musical performances -- Ana Gasteyer and Ferrell as Bobbi and Marty Mohan singing their version of "Uptown Funk," Joe Piscopo as Frank Sinatra, Adam Sandler's Opera Man, and Bill Murray as lounge singer Nick Ocean, who added lyrics to the "Jaws" theme, accompanied by Paul Shaffer. This wasn't simply a several-hour series of clips, as the anniversaries in 1989 and 1999 were, though it would have been appreciated to see more of the non-live clips the show does, like the hysterical "TV Funhouse" cartoons Robert Smigel, Louis C.K. and others wrote. We were, though, treated to a brand new Digital Short of Andy Sandberg's, featuring his co-star from "That's My Boy" and fellow SNL alumn Adam Sandler. One near-final moment was the touching, Oscars-style in memoriam for its crew and cast members who have passed away; it was a very touching tribute to Jan Hooks, Don Pardo, Tom Davis, Andy Kaufman, Michael O'Donaghue, and many others. Bill Murray closed with saying that he had to include one final bit of news, and in the spirit of his fellow cast member, Garrett Morris, told the audience that Francisco Franco is still dead.

Fans of one of the most memorable sketches, Wayne's World, might have had to stay up pretty late to see Mike Myers and Dana Carvey reunite to party on (perhaps in tribute to the fact that the skit was nearly rejected initially and only given the dreaded last slot of the night). Myers remarked of the 40-year stretch that is the show, to which Carvey asked, "Do you mean this show has been going on for 40 years?" After mocking the apparent lack of originality in some of the show's critics and doubters during the not-so-good years who asked if the show should be called "Saturday Night Dead," the two sported their dueling Lorne Michaels impersonations, and Myers', in particular, should remind movie-watching audiences of a certain character.    

I suppose I have to mention what seemed to so very much upset viewers: Eddie Murphy's brief, admittedly awkward, return to the show that made him famous. By now, just about everyone knows his famous rise on the show; how, after the departure of Michaels and crew (and the disastrous sixth season), Murray almost single-handely carried the show, or, as "Live From New York: The Uncensored History of Saturday Night Live" co-author James Andrew Miller has said, "saved the franchise." But after supposedly becoming livid after cast member David Spade dismissively called him a "falling star" in the 1990s, it has been no secret that Murphy had had no intentions of ever returning or even discussing his time on the show. Was I disappointed by the brevity of Murphy's appearance? I suppose. Would I have liked to have seen him appear as Michaels originally wanted him to appear? Not really. Was it the worst part of the show? No. Is he still a legend? Yes. Did he still save the show? Obviously. Was it incredible to see him there? Definitely. Do I hope and have faith that he will one day appear as host? That's not even a serious question.  

Of all the numerous amounts of ink that have recently been spilled about this iconic show, none have been as fascinating to read as Rob Shefield's article in Rolling Stones magazine ranking all 141 cast members of the show's history. (Coming in at dead last is a cast member from the 11th season named Robert Downey, Jr.) Look at some of those in the top ten: Chevy Chase (the man who "took one season to define the franchise"), Gilda Radner ("the most beloved of the original cast members"), Amy Poehler (who "could do warmth," yet was "always buzzing with a real don't-mess-with-me hostility never far from the surface"), Phil Hartman (the "grown-up in the room" and "'the Glue' for holding the show together"), Dan Aykroyd (the cast member with "biker-intellectual intensity"), John Belushi ("the first rock & roll star of comedy"). Certainly an argument could be made that the world would not be witnesses to decades of laughter from these individuals if not for the man who put them on the show: Lorne Michaels. Michaels, who for forty (technically thirty-five) years led the show through high and low, is a Canadian who created an American institution, one that, as Paul Simon sang near its closing moments of its 40th anniversary, is still crazy after all these years. Perhaps it still will be for the next forty. Here's hoping.

Friday, June 14, 2013

The Funniest AFI Moments

This Saturday, TNT will present the American Film Institute's Lifetime Achievement Award to Mel Brooks, a man who certainly deserves it. For more than fifty years, he has made us practically cry laughing with films like "The Producers" in 1968 (along with the Broadway version and 2005 film version), "Young Frankenstein," "Blazing Saddles," "Spaceballs," and others. Do you like the old show "Get Smart"? Brooks was a co-creator. In fact, he has won an Oscar, an Emmy, a Tony and a Grammy, making him one of the few individuals to win all four. The AFI Lifetime Achievement Award is, according to them, the highest honor an American in film can get. Fortunately, the show is often quite funny, and knowing the long list of co-workers and famous fans of Brooks, we can be sure that Saturday night's show will be good fun. For a brief history of such humor at the AFI awards, here are some of their funniest moments.    

Steve Martin, Tom Hanks, 2002
Steve Martin, perhaps the funniest man alive, opened the show expressing just a bit of faux-jealousy towards Hanks during the latter's "mid-life achievement award." Martin delivers the lines in that dry, sarcastic tone that he does best. "How did Tom come so far so quickly? Well, nepotism."    



Billy Crystal, Robert De Niro, 2003 
Billy Crystal, Robert De Niro's co-star from "Analyze This," doesn't exactly deliver a knee-slapper (but Robin Williams did during his hysterical roast that night of Martin Scorsese), but it gets the show off to a nice start. He lampoons De Niro's famous work ethic, compares his early look to that of the Monkees, and does a nice impression of De Niro's inability to make conversation (something Edward Norton and Leonardo DiCaprio also point out).  



Jim Carrey, Meryl Streep, 2004
Unfortunately, the AFI, like the rest of Hollywood, does not honor as many women as it does men, and this is inexcusable. (Only seven out of the forty honorees have been women.) But in 2004, they honored arguably the greatest artist alive, Meryl Streep, or, as Jim Carrey claimed, the three nominees in the category of Best Actress Ever. Carrey's schtick is over the top, but that's to be expected, and if you are generally amused by him, then you will love his opening, especially when he gives Streep "advice" that "less is more," then goes into imitations of De Niro and Jack Nicholson, both in attendance.
   


William Shatner, George Lucas, 2005
You'll notice a bit of puzzlement from "Star Wars" alumni Mark Hamill and Harrison Ford as William Shatner (from Lucas' rival/inspiration "Star Trek") comes forward to open the show with mock confusion. "'Star Trek' changed everything," he says. "And aren't these conventions wonderful?" What he does next with a band of Stormtroopers is so perfect, I think it's best to simply watch. 


Mike Myers, Sean Connery 2006
Mike Myers, after noting that he practically owes his career to Sir Sean Connery, is hysterical, particularly when he compares some of Connery's Bond girlfriends (like Pussy Galore) with Myers' first girlfriend, "Closedlegs Finklestein." Unfortunately, though, after the laughs from Myers speech, we have to sit through two hours of bad Connery impressions (though Eddie Izzard's is pretty good). But fortunately, it ends with Connery dancing and giving a terrific speech.    



Robin Williams, Al Pacino 2007
Any AFI show with Robin Williams is a joy, and after a terrific montage of Pacino's great work at the beginning of the show (which, as far as I can tell, is not available on Youtube), Williams, Pacino's co-star from the under-appreciated "Insomnia," notes that the AFI "could've given you this award in 1975, but that would have been a little early" and that after incorrectly claiming Pacino won an Oscar for "Raging Bull," "if you put Robert De Niro in a dryer, you get Al Pacino!" He then leads the audience in one of Pacino's most famous movie lines.   



Betty White, Morgan Freeman, 2011
Betty White sings to Morgan Freeman. I don't think I need to write anything else.  



The showing will be at 9 pm (EST) on TNT with an encore showing on TCM on July 24.  Until then, it's always Springtime for Hitler.    



Okay, one more....

Friday, May 21, 2010

The Best of SNL--Part 2

The final part: the Best of SNL--Part 2...

14. Canteen Boy (1994)

Criticized for being too raunchy and controversial for suggesting pedophilia, Alec Baldwin's role was as a creepy Boy Scout Scoutmaster attempting to seduce his young Scout, Canteen Boy, played by Adam Sandler. After being teased by the fellow Scouts, the Scoutmaster, played by Baldwin, insisted that the boys leave Canteen Boy alone and that they return to their tents to sleep. After Canteen Boy insisted that their taunts were simply "sticks and stones," the Scoutmaster's arm was thrust around Canteen Boy's shoulder, and there was an immediate recognition of the situation. Ripping off his shirt, the Scoutmaster claimed--"Whoops, my shirt fell off." Wine spilled on Canteen Boy's sleeping bag, so it was insisted that Canteen Boy share the sleeping bag of the Scout Master, then to rub bug repellent on his chest (though Canteen Boy points out that it is February and the bugs must have hibernated). The skit was controversial enough to persuade SNL to clearly state the next time that Canteen Boy was in fact a twenty-seven-year-old man.

13. Coffee Talk (1992)


Though heavy on the Jewish stereotypes, "Coffee Talk with Paul Baldwin" and later "Coffee Talk with Linda Richman" (both starring Mike Myers in the title role), featured a number of traits, such as a passion for Barbara Streisand and historical topics, like "The New Deal was neither new nor a deal--discuss" and "the Progressive Era was neither progressive nor an era--discuss." The most memorable moment was when Streisand herself made an unexpected appearance. Myers was joined by guests Roseanne Barr and Madonna (both also as stereotypical Jewish women--large, hard hair and periodically licking the teeth). The three of them (two actually, for Roseanne's character was a bit distracted and "gassy") were disappointed to the point of crying in lieu of the multiple nomination's Streisand's film "The Prince of Tides" received--the disappointment came in the omission of a Best Director nomination for Streisand. They became chocked up--or feklempt--but were disrupted by Roseanne's story of a man whose gallbladder exploded. The skit continued. A caller mentioned it would be a good idea for Barbara to do a duet with Madonna, to which Madonna's character, though expectedly, dismissed it as a bad idea. "She's a tramp--every day with a different boyfriend." Myer's Linda though mentioned that her legs were like "buttah." Finally, they repeated: Barbara's movie was "like buttah" (Madonna), "like buttah" (Myers), "like a big stick-ah buttah" (Barr). Then, unexpectedly, approached Barbara, who mentioned that with all the talk of food, she was getting hungry. The three of them--and the audience--burst into applause. Apparently, only Myers knew of her appearance ahead of time.

12. The Ambiguously Gay Duo (1996)


Always bound to inspire laughter, Robert Smigel's "TV Funhouse" cartoons featured the hysterical "Real Audio," in which dialogue from celebrities (usually politicians) would be animated to create bizarre situations. The real gem from Smigel was his "Ambiguously Gay Duo" of Ace and Gary, a take on the Batman and Robin archetypes. Smigel capitalized on the ambiguous nature that was clearly evident in superhero comics (particularly Batman--keep in mind this was not the seriousness of the 1940s period but instead the "nah-nah-nah-nah-nah Batman! and before the Frank Miller/Tim Burton/Christopher Nolan period), Ace and Gary were two crime-fighting and highly-friendly heroes, animated in the style of cartoons from decades ago. Voiced by Stephen Colbert and Steve Carell (neither were SNL members, but they were members of Second City, "The Dana Carvey Show" and "The Daily Show" together), the two characters happily saved the city from the villainous villains, only to have friend and foe unlike be perplexed by the, well, ambiguity of their actions: patting each other, climbin on each other, and driving a peculiar car. It didn't help the two that their episode titles were also ambiguous, like the one titled "A Hard One to Swallow."

11. Clinton-Bush-Perot Debate of 1992 (1992)


While interesting enough of an actual debate to watch, 1992 featured not only the first televised debate featuring three candidates, but also a hilarious spoof on SNL. While Phil Hartman was Bill Clinton, Dana Carvey played both Perot and Bush, which allowed the audience to see the contrast in his calm, wimpier-John-Wayne voice of Bush with the hyperbolic and staccato annunciation of Perot. The funniest moment was when each was allowed a final response. The camera would zoom in on an opponent, and the audience would see what that candidate was thinking. So when Clinton gave his final thoughts, Bush envisioned the Arkansas governor as a 1960s radical, pot-smoking hippy; when Clinton focused on Bush, he saw an old lady from the World War II-period. Finally, for Perot, both Clinton and Bush saw the Mayor of the Munchkin City.

10. The Ford/Carter Debate of 1976 (1976)


By the time this faux-debate came about in 1976, Chevy Chase had already established Gerald Ford as a bit of a goof, falling down frequently. As it has been stated often, even on the show, Chase looked and talked nothing like Ford, but he capitalized on the fact that Ford had a tendency to fall down and trip. The highlight of this skit was when the moderator, Jane Curtain, began a rather long question for the president. "Mr. President, you said that the Humphrey-Hawkins bill will cost a possible six billion dollars. But isn't it true that the jobs provided by the bill will create up to a hundred and fifty billion dollars in increased production--using Walter Heller's figure that for every one percent unemployed, there is a resulting thirty-nine percent billion dollar loss in GNP. Now, at the present rate of taxation of GNP of thirty-nine percent, doesn't this come to about the same sixty billion dollars in increased revenue?" The whole time Curtain had delivered the question, the camera slowly zoomed in on Chase's face, as the sweat on his forehead became more and more obvious. Finally, he said, "It was my understanding that there would be no math during the debates."

9. Land Shark (1976)

A spoof of "Jaws," with John Williams' score and everything, Land Shark detailed a conning shark (even claiming to be a dolphin) who eventually tricked his victims into opening the door for him (voiced by Chevy Chase) to devour. There is hardly anything to write, but perhaps no skit sums up the absurdity of SNL's humor better than the Land Shark.

8. Julia Childs Cuts Herself (1978)

Fans of the recent Meryl Streep film "Julie & Julia" would have noticed a scene where Amy Adams' character and her boyfriend watch a scene from "Saturday Night Live" with Dan Aykroyd as Julia Childs. The sketch would have sufficed had Aykroyd simply been in drag and a high-pitch Childs-esque voice and manner, but the stakes were raised when the character cut herself while cutting chicken. Aykroyd hardly looked or sounded like Childs (see above regarding Chevy Chase and Gerald Ford), but it was the gratuitous amount of fake blood that sprayed about the set that elevated his performance. The advice to "first, stop the bleeding" was good enough only to spare perhaps a drop of blood. Eric Idle, who hosted the show in the 1970s, said that Aykroyd, for his ability to write and act in these skits, made him the only SNL cast member worthy of being a member of Monty Python.

7. Schweddy Balls (1998)


The skit already started as pure gold--Anna Gasteyer, Moll Shannon and a guest (usually Alec Baldwin) somehow kept a straight face as they lampooned the incredible monotony of the radio voices of NPR. Shannon's character mentioned that she would be asking Santa for some rat traps to help her with the "excessive" rat problem she was having, while Gasteyer's character mentioned that she always leaves out tap water and rice for Kris Kringle (Shannon's could not leave out food due to the excessive rat problem). It only became better when host Alec Baldwin as Pete Schweddy brought out his special food--in the case of the first time, it was his Schweaty Balls. "Tell us about your balls, Pete." With the amount of laughter from the audience, especially the double entente after double entente, it was truly testimony to the ability of these three actors to keep a straight face. "No one can resist my Schweddy Balls."

6. Celebrity Jeopardy (1996-2002)

The absurdity was simple: celebrities playing Jeopardy. The categories were also simple, a bit too simple: months that end in "tober," presidents who are on the one dollar bill, countries between Canada and Mexico, and members of Simon and Garfunkel. Jimmy Fallon usually had great impersonations, as did Norm McDonald as Burt Reynolds, but while Darrell Hammond would usually play different celebrities--from Michael Donohue to John Travolta---once he settled comfortably into an impersonation of an unlikely player named Sean Connery, a Sean Connery who constantly annoyed the host Alex Trebek (Will Ferrell), did the skit really take off. Connery usually would challenge Trebek's authority, and Trebek desperately tried to keep his composure as he was dealing with idiots. What seemed to annoy Trebek the most (in addition to the Bond-like quips Connery threw at them) was his sophomoric, probably-intentional ability to incorrectly pronounce the categories (like "anal bum cover" instead of "album cover"). There were also accusations that he slept with Trebek's mother. Another thing that seemed to make this skit work was the existence of videos on the internet of the actual Trebek being rather annoyed (Trebek himself made a cameo during one of these sketches). Supposedly, according to Macdonald, the skit was created only for him to do his Burt Reynolds impersonation, and Reynolds actually enjoyed the skit, so much that the show planned for Reynolds to crash the set, punch Macdonald, and finish playing the game with answers even dumber than before (with Macdonald being fired from the show, that never came to be).

5. The Joe Pesci Show (1996)

So many things were magical about "The Joe Pesci Show," chief among them the bizarre idea of Joe Pesci, the actor who portrayed such violent characters in "Goodfellas," "Casino," and "Home Alone" having a talk show. The sketch usually featured the host, Pesci, with a spot-on impersonation from Jim Brewer, and an SNL host (frequent hosts Alec Baldwin or John Goodman, for example) as guest Robert De Niro, and usually climaxed into an angry assault by Pesci and/or De Niro on the guest(s). One highlight was when the actual Pesci and De Niro showed up, in perfect deadpan, and turned the tables. But the greatest moment was when host Jim Carrey (a natural from his days on "In Living Color") appeared as Jimmy Stewart. Hunched over and frequently shifting his jaw in Stewart fashion, barely finishing his poem about a fish he caught but released due to sympathy (a spoof of Stewart's poem to his late-dog on "The Tonight Show"), Carrey was perfect. The skit got better as Pesci's second guest was none other than Jim Carrey (Mark McKinney). McKinney's impersonation was good, but the pricelessness of the situation was the angry look on Carrey/Stewart's face. "Smoke a lot of dope, do ya?" an annoyed Stewart asked. McKinney/Carrey then did an impersonation of Stewart, but was one-upped as Carrey/Stewart slowly rose to his feet to return the impersonation: "I'm Jim Carrey! I'll do anything for a laugh. I need attention twenty four hours a day. Look at me! Look at me!" He then proceeded to imitate a donkey. As expected, Pesci assaulted McKinney/Carrey with a baseball bat, and Carrey/Stewart protested that he did not agree with "gratuitous violence," which provoked Pesci to whack him in the head. But James Stewart, a veteran of World War II, did not go quietly, as he nabbed the bat from Pesci and wreaked havoc on the set.

4. The Katie Couric and Sarah Palin Interview (2008)


Sarah Palin was a good enough joke before SNL took advantage of the situation. Recall that when John McCain picked her as his running mate in August of 2008, SNL had not yet returned for a new season. But everyone noticed Palin as looking remarkably similar to Tina Fey, a former cast member and writer for the show. Not letting a perfect opportunity go to waste, Fey returned to open the next season as Sarah Palin, noting that she could "see Alaska for my house" (which helped define the narrative of Palin). But that skit featured Amy Poehler as Hillary Clinton, and while Poehler's impersonation of Clinton was never really good, it also seemed to distract the skit for the sake of being fair. The next time, however, SNL could not resist but to decimate Palin. The disastrous interviews Palin did with CBS's Katie Couric, in which Palin could not cite a moment of McCain supporting financial regulation while he was a senator (though moments early she said he had a record of it) and where she could not recall which newspapers she read, provided such an opportunity. The perfect moment was Fey/Palin's explanation of the "ill" bailout, using big words like "ultimately" and "deficit" while juxtaposing it somehow with health care reform and "shoring up" the economy and small business and "reining in spending" with a heavy emphasis on "reining." The real painful reality, though, was that, as numerous videos on the internet have demonstrated, Fey's impersonation of Palin seemed to be a word-for-word mimic of what the latter had actually said, confusion and all.

3. Gerald Ford Dead Today (1996)

The idea was perfect: Tom Brokaw (Dana Carvey) of NBC was ready to go on vacation. As a precaution, NBC ordered Brokaw to film any potential stories that might occur while he was away. The hypothetical was tragic--Gerald Ford dead. "Gerald Ford, well he's in good shape." But they wanted to just make sure. Then the other, less-likely hypothetical situations came: being shot (Ford was actually shot at twice in one week), suicide, drug overdose, and my two favorites--eaten by wolves and strangled to death by the corpse of Richard Nixon. Brokaw became angrily skeptical, but was reassured when it was explained that "it happened to Taft."

2. King Tut (1978)


The king of SNL's sophomoric nature was Steve Martin's rendition of a musical homage to Tutankhamen. While starting as what seemed to be a sincere tribute to the late king evolved immediately into a bizarre dance that was perfected by the absurdist behavior that has defined Martin's sense of comedy over the decades. Wildly shaking his arms and bizarrely singing about Tut's consumption of a crocodile and the fact that "he gave his life for tourism," "King Tut" has been a defining moment for "Saturday Night Live."

1. More Cowbell (2000)


I will concede that my number one and number two choices are essentially a tie as I believe that both do the best job at visualizing what "Saturday Night Live" has been these past thirty-five years. In this skit, starring one of SNL's greatest hosts, Christopher Walken, the audience was explained the behind-the-scenes story of the Blue Oyster Cult's "(Don't Fear) The Reaper." What probably was conceived as SNL's explanation for the odd-sounding cowbell in the song, Will Ferell played a long and overbearing (and offended) cowbell player who conflicts with the direction of the cowbell's sound with other band members. It was Walken, as Bruce Dickenson ("yes, the Bruce Dickenson") who insisted that there must be more cowbell. The confrontations increased, but Dickenson demanded more--"I gotta have more cowbell, babe!" Walken has been one of Hollywood and the theatre's best actors for the past thirty years, but it was SNL (and Quentin Tarantino's casting of him in "Pulp Fiction") that introduced the world to a more humorous Walken. He utilized every aspect of that persona in those sketches. Walken has mentioned in interviews that people will randomly approach him and request a bit more cowbell. "Guess what? I got a fever. And the only prescription is more cowbell!" And thus was spoken SNL's immortal line (that, and "live for New York, it's Saturday Night!").



There were of course some that did not make the list but of course deserve recognition. In 1982, Frank Piscopo and Eddie Murphy gave a perfect duet as Frank Sinatra and Stevie Wonder respectively (was that word really needed?). Martin Short and Billy Crystal's characters and sketches were both left out, but both delivered quality performances. A favorite actor of mine, Tim Curry, hosted the show in the early 1980s and performed "the Zucchini song" with suggestive lyrics. Current senator from Minnesota Al Franken had great moments not only as a writer but also as his Stewart Smalley character (Franken's enemies of the right still refer to him as Senator Stewart Smalley). Did you know that Robert Downey, Jr., Anthony Michael Hall, and Ben Stiller were at one point cast members? Or that Sarah Silverman and Conan O'Brien were once writers on the show (the latter was the one who wrote the infamous "penis sketch")? Perhaps it was the biggest crime on my part to have not seriously discussed Gilda Radner's role in the show.

"Saturday Night Live" is, simply put, a remarkably important part of American pop culture and even history. If nothing else, it is the funniest show on television, certainly with regards to longevity and consistency. There were the periods of doubt (notice that not much of the early 1980s is represented? This was the period when producer Lorne Michaels had left the show), but for the past thirty-five years, hearing that "live from New York, it's Saturday night," has been an essential.

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