#john curtin

[rosalie-starfall]

The Not Ready For Prime Time Players

Saturday Night / Saturday Night Live October 11th 1975

[histonics]

[forever70s]

the original cast of Saturday Night Live (1975) with Chevy Chase, Laraine Newman, John Belushi, Gilda Radner, Garrett Morris, Jane Curtin, and Dan Aykroyd

[coeurdeverre82]

happy trails

[davidhudson]

Happy 77th, Jane Curtin.

With John Belushi on SNL in the 1970s.

[bayareabadboy]

The Not Ready for Prime Time Players 1975

[postmodern-blues]

Ok I’ll say it. They fucking pretty-washed the whole cast. Like I’m not gonna pass any definitive judgements before I actually see the movie but. I mean.

Maybe it’s just these headshots but I do not see it. Hair and makeup better imperfection these folks up!

Honestly, my only real fear is that the trend-hopping, tik-toking little bastards of my generation will get ahold of this movie and generate some dumbass discourse about it. Time will tell.

[sydneysageivashkov]

morrison and paul fletcher I am in your walls

[ninetyminutes]

Remember that daemon au I mentioned? Have some very mid photoshop images I made of the characters and their daemons

[rosalie-starfall]

Not gonna lie. I'm pretty excited about it!

[winter-seance]

3rd Rock from the Sun | 1.03

[cinemaseeker]

Let's Review: Saturday Night

Biopics, not unlike live TV, are a tricky tightrope walk.

The line that actors and directors have to toe is razor thin and always shifting beneath their feet. The sweat starts to bead at the very beginning of conception, when an actor is chosen to mimic, and more often than not resurrect, any given celebrity/historical figure/actual real person of note for any particular project. And the very act of mimicking the appearance and mannerisms of these people strikes at the very heart of acting itself, which can be described as the uncanny ability to completely transform oneself, both physically and mentally, into a different person.

In short, to convincingly create a character.

Biopics pose a particularly unique challenge, wherein the actor has to both create a fictionalized character that can work within a fabricated narrative structure while still recreating a non-fictitious person who is then expected to reenact events important to both the person and the world at large.

Scrutiny and criticisms (from both the general public and the people who lived it) are hardwired to the very DNA of this genre in a way that no other genres are. Not to mention all of the fans that come out of the woodwork when these projects premiere, who are always more than ready to shoot down and fact-check every fictitious addition/omission/discrepancy, beating every bush into oblivion.

It is very easy to screw up spectacularly (and very many have) but these projects can also be absolutely magical when you get it right.

It can be tricky enough doing justice representing one key figure in the world of entertainment. Now add half a dozen more. And we have an ensemble biopic, a creature that just adds more balls for us to juggle.

So now, really, a biopic chronicling the chaotic countdown towards the very first SNL live show is nothing short of catching lightning in a bottle. At the very last minute. Almost on accident. After every other conceivable thing goes very, very wrong. Only to become, somehow, very, very right in the end.

Like lightning, this film has a zappy, kinetic energy to it (helped in very large parts by the editing, camerawork, and Jon Batiste's exciting frenetic score) as it zips and weaves it's way around every square inch of 30 Rockefeller Plaza on the night of October 11th 1975, playing out in roughly real time from 10pm to 11:30pm (aka showtime). It doesn't hold your hand so much as roughly drag you up and down the studio, huffing and puffing as the unsinkable Lorne Michaels (anchored by an earnestly steadfast Gabriel Labelle) rushes to put out little fires that keep popping up all over the place (mostly figurative, one very literal).

You've got a ragtag group of untested comics with large personalities that occasionally bump against each other like bowling balls against pins; some of whom wonder what they, as real actors, are even doing there. There's an anarchic writer with SNL's first head writer Michael O'Donoghue (played by a magnetic Tommy Dewey) pushing back for artistic freedom against the prudish NBC censor (the hilariously sour-pussed Catherine Curtin) in a heated interaction that marks a particularly bright spot in both the film and the fast-paced, wise-cracking script. Then there's countless technical problems with both the sound and lights, not helped by bitterly rebellious crew who won't even help a pour guy lay down some bricks. And all of this in service towards a sketch comedy show that, having run for 3 hours in dress rehearsal (a dress rehearsal that wasn't even taped) that has to be severely trimmed down for primetime.

And of course, there are the NBC executives that are breathing down their necks, waiting for Lorne and the show to fail. A show that, even Lorne admits, nobody has really figured out yet. As he states in one of the film's best lines, he has the ingredients in mind, just not the amounts.

Not to mention the Alpaca.

Oh, and Andy Kaufman's there. As well as Jim Henson and his Muppets. Both of whom are brought to impressive, gangly life by Nicholas Braun (aka Cousin Greg from Succession) pulling double-duty as the unconventional comic and innovative puppeteer with an equally commendable, underperforming monotony that provides the perfect sounding board for everyone else to bounce their insanities against.

The entire ensemble and supporting cast collide and compliment each like a finely tuned jazz band, creating great conflict in the cacophony and allowing great soloists to shine through all the noise.

Perhaps the most obvious standout is Cory Michael Smith as Chevy Chase (I'm sure he wouldn't have it any other way).

The natural physical resemblance always helps but Smith manages to effortlessly portray the egotistical smarminess of Chase in a way that's served him well in his other past roles.

This is the part of the review where I get to flex and say that I liked Cory Michael Smith before he was cool and btw I'm glad that he's getting bigger and better roles in his career. Good for him.

Shoutout to his kooky turn as Edward Nygma/Riddler on Gotham. Do yourself a favor and check it out. You won't be disappointed.

But if I had to pick a best supporting actor, I would have to give it to Matt Wood for his take on the late great John Belushi.

In any other movie, his part probably would've been much bigger (that's what she said). But all jokes aside he's wisely used rather sparingly, glaring at us from the background until he's brought in to punch up the tension with his explosive temper and mercurial demeanor. Your eye can't help but wander over to this strange little man who's obvious talent tips both the show and film's scales towards greatness, even as everyone can already see the deep shadow starting to darken the doorway.

One underappreciated aspect of the biopic is the opportunity it gets to lend voices to people who wouldn't otherwise get a chance to tell their side of the story. With all the big egos swinging their dicks around Saturday Night, the spotlight smartly tends to swing more towards Garrett Morris, the token black member of the cast.

You probably wouldn't have thought much about Garrett Morris before going to see this movie. But my hope is that after seeing this you'll go Google him and then hopefully Hollywood will finally give him his flowers. Played with indignant dignity by newly minted Emmy winner Lamorne Morris (no relation), Garrett rightfully chafes against having to play into limited black stereotypes, especially given that he graduated from Juilliard and performed on Broadway.

And finally, I would be remiss not the mention the incredible women of Saturday Night.

Like very much of SNL's history, the female cast members and writers, especially Lorne's wife Rosie Shuster (played with tender grit by the incomparable Rachel Sennott), have had to fight tooth and nail to make their voices heard. The film takes great strides to spotlight Rosie as the great unsung hero of Saturday Night, giving meat to a supporting wife role that far too often comes delivered bareboned. One of the very favorite lines in the film has Rosie desiring to be a writer rather than a wife and eventually choosing to go by her maiden name in the show's credits, her supportive husband by her side.

Although not the focal point of the film, their efforts do manage to shine brightly through the cracks, giving us glimpses into sketchwork that would lay the groundwork for future SNL superstars like Tina Fey and Maya Rudolph.

The fact that they get to do it while harassing former teen star Dylan O'Brien (aka Stiles from Teen Wolf) is just an added bonus.

But in all seriousness, O'Brien makes for a fun, buoyant Dan Aykroyd.

Without trying very hard, Saturday Night would've been able to give older viewers a shot of nostalgia for the early days of SNL while also giving younger generations a great first step back into learning about the early history of SNL, a show which is currently airing its 50th season and still going strong. The fact that it's also a great movie is truly an added bonus and a gift to the state of current cinema.

At the end of it all, Saturday Night is able to prove that while a biopic doesn't have to get all the facts right, it certainly has to capture the vibe. And it certainly does so, making us feel what it was like to be there in Studio 8H during a chaotic October night in 1975, where the Not Ready for Primetime Players were just trying to put on a show.

[coeurdeverre82]

tomorrow show 1975

[aiiaiiiyo]

[90s-kid-sad-adult]

[mrs-jake-blues]

They just announced the Gilda, Jane, and Laraine casting which means it shouldn’t be too long before they announce John and Dan casting.

I’m NERVOUS.