Sunday, July 18, 2021

Saturday Night Live, Ranked and Reviewed: Season 2


"We're just packaging what the kids want, ya know?"

--

I greatly enjoyed watching the first season of the show, especially with how experimental and loose it tended to feel, but I also felt like the show was still frequently unsure of itself and what sort of show it wanted to be. I was greatly looking for to the second season, then, to see how the show would continue to develop and solidify. Did it live up to those expectations? See for yourself!

In case you missed it: for my reviews of Season 1, CLICK HERE! Now... onwards!

9/18/76: Lily Tomlin / James Taylor (S2 E01)

Season 2! Lily Tomlin! I actually thought that was quite a solid episode, all things considered. While the show is clearly still trying to figure out its overall rundown/sequencing stuff, I think that it steps a very confident foot forward in a way that a season premiere should, and often doesn't. Lily Tomlin makes sense as a host to put up to the task as well: she doesn't need SNL to keep her afloat, and her presence is strong enough to will the night into being compelling, if nothing else. 

I do think that she is, by that same logic, a host that the show doesn't always know what to do with most of the time, though. Her characters are specific in their personalities but broad in their performance style, whereas SNL's writing at this time tends to be more seedy and conceptual. But rather than those two different styles merging into something truly stunning, there's a tug and pull where they rarely feel synchronized. For instance, while the debate sketch was impeccably crafted—a piece worth all of its hype, and one that demonstrates the unsuspecting sharpness of the show's political satire when it extends beyond Ford falling down—Lily was relegated to a straight role that did her no favors. On the opposite hand, her character piece buried deep in the night with Garrett, putting her distinct voice as a comedian at the wheel, felt like a concept SNL had no idea how to work with or fit into its mold.

With that being said, there are two main exceptions. Lily's "Phone Company" ad in the middle of Update was a showcase which was indisputably hers, but which she carried out excellently, a reflection of the skills of her comedic voice when granted the autonomy that it needs. Her Judith Beasley piece with Dan was even better, though, ramping up its basic premise to the point of irrelevant and pseudo-dark absurdity, anchored by two performers doing what they do best harmoniously. The antler dance ending the episode, too, felt like a moment where she and the show were at the same terms with each other, blossoming into such a joyous closer to a strong episode, in spite of its difficulties. (Oh, and in spite of their earlier sketch ending too abruptly to register, it was a nice high note for the Muppets to go out on, dancing along with antlers on their heads.) Strong as it may be on a sketch-by-sketch basis, though, I just wish a Lily Tomlin-hosted episode could feel more wholly mutualistic. (Penned 6/12/21)

GRADE: B+.

9/25/76: Norman Lear / Boz Scaggs (S2 E02)


I wasn't quite sure where to set my expectations with this episode, but wherever they were set (maybe around Ron Nessen??), this episode far surpassed them. Sure, Lear isn't the sort of commanding presence that someone like Lily Tomlin is, but that somehow enabled him to plug into the show more and become a cog in the SNL machine rather than an entirely separate energy source. He felt a lot closer to someone like Buck Henry, someone who clearly relinquishes himself diligently to the process and rolls with the punches far more than I would've suspected. (That pratfall!) While he was basically Norman Lear across the entire episode, his presence is amicable enough that the show put him to fine use. The monologue was probably one of the big highlights of the night for me; it risks becoming repetitive and feeling narcissistic, but something about it just connects and works with every reiteration of the main gag, and he hits just the right tone to sell the material. (That deadpan lack of reaction to having a trash bin full of water poured on him was, quite frankly, immaculate.)

Stepping beyond Lear, a lot of the night's material felt connected to Chevy's absence. It makes sense, I suppose; the biggest star is out, and suddenly the show feels like it has a weaker nucleus, but SNL massively underestimates its confidence without him. Jane Curtin acquits herself perfectly to Weekend Update, with this installment being perhaps the best display of her deadpan yet (the Alka Seltzer joke was perfect), and the ladies' song to their ailing cast member hits just the write amount of sincerity and absurdity to land as precisely as it needs to. The cast holds up the rest of the episode's material playing to their strengths without leaving anything to be missed, especially Dan, who trots out a worthy sequel to last season's killer "Decabet" piece. The only segments that didn't really work for me were the snake-charmer sitcom and John's obligatory "time to beat up Gilda" sketch, so this was all-around a very respectable entry into SNL's canon.

GRADE: A-.

As a sidenote, I also very much enjoyed Gary Weiss' weird "Yankee Doodle" slapstick film this week. Usually I sort of nix his work from consideration for grading purposes, but it really struck a chord with me and felt strangely prescient of contemporary, surreal/memetic humor. (There's some real "Dear Sister" vibes to it, I swear.) Pretty electrifying stuff from ol' Gary! (Penned 6/13/21)

10/02/76: Eric Idle / Joe Cocker & Stuff (S2 E03)

Alright, so the Eric Idle episode. After going through a lot of ups and downs with it, I've settled on a pretty strong appreciation for it! I went into it with high expectations, which are quite frankly a lethal sentiment to have for an SNL episode, and I think that blinded me away from the strengths that the episode has, especially indebted to the chances that it takes with its material. While I don't think everything in the episode is a winner, there's a fun, absurdist energy that runs through the entire episode and keeps it largely afloat.

That's what we should expect from a Python hosting, naturally, and Eric Idle is as fantastic as you'd expect. He's got a good synergy with the show, with Idle causing SNL to take a more Python-esque slant while simultaneously playing gamely into SNL's creative DNA. That blossoms most notably in how much this episode actualizes Dan, the most eccentric member of this cast; while the "AM/FM" piece sadly doesn't do a ton for me outside of how impressive Dan's performance is, he makes a fantastic scene partner to Eric, whether as the straight man in the short but sweet "Genetic Counselor" sketch or taking the lead in the Nazi bar sketch, an underrated little piece that merely hurts itself from a poor ending. While "Rutles" is probably the sketch of the night, I'm reluctant to qualify it as such considering it was pulled, in its entirety, from another television show; instead, I'll give that honor to "Dragnet," which outside of our obligatory racial oopsie-doo of the night (Garrett), was one of those sketches so peppered with absurd, brilliant, and underplayed detail that I couldn't help but love it, all while being bolstered by a fantastic sense of progression. (That drag race visual was bonkers.)

While the episode lost me in its final leg with a series of sketches that hurt the episode's momentum (the theme of stitching sketches together sort of falls apart, and the runner gets buried until resurfacing for the goodnights), this one's a really good time. Definitely one of the best of this era so far! (Penned 6/14/21)

GRADE: A.

10/16/76: Karen Black / John Prine (S2 E04)

While I didn't particularly enjoy the Karen Black episode, I think that it represents one of my favorite, more elusive types of SNL episodes: it's an installment of the show that teeters not because of any laziness or sterility, but because things just don't click for whatever reason in spite of the episode's sincere intentions. A certain breed of absurdity permeates across the material here, creating a night that theoretically makes the most of SNL's potential for weirdness, but very little actually connects, turning that weirdness more into confusion and a sense of remove.

Karen Black tries to do her part in the episode at least, and I enjoyed her monologue for the material (detailing of the history of mothers a la the Industrial Revolution) as much as I enjoyed her infant son committing... curious faux pas on live television. But while she proved capable there, the rest of the night relegated her to straight and supporting roles through weary sketch after sketch. She notably seemed rather out-of-depth as the moderator of tonight's debate sketch, whiffing some cues and struggling to fight against the already dead energy that sadly underscores some of its material. (A fair bit works and gets it over—Carter's lustful comments towards Jane, the National Anthem bit—but it can't stand up to its predecessor.) As she slaves through the episode's two strangest pieces, too, the mouse cupcake and Catherine the Great sketches, it becomes hard to tell where the blame for the night's failures fall; is Karen just unable to will the material into working, or is the material too half-baked for anyone to work with? The addition of a middling slice-of-life piece between Dan and Jane, though—something I wanted to like, but which refuted my ability to resonate with the characters—suggests the latter.

With that being said, I thought that the A*M*I*S*H sketch was decidedly strong, one of those jokes so simple and stupid but succinctly executed that you're jealous of the person who came up of it. Outside of that, all I could really do here is furrow my brows and frown at the fact that Chevy's back. (Penned 6/15/21)

GRADE: C-.

10/23/76: Steve Martin / Kinky Friedman (S2 E05)

I find this to be a bit of a surprising debut episode for someone who would go on to become a legendary host. It certainly wasn't bad, but I think it's hard to go back to a time where Steve was a fresh-faced comedian on the show with no expectations beyond a night brimming with his shtick. In that regard, the episode was very successful, but it didn't speak to the sort of versatility I would expect from him. The night was very high-functioning, centered around Steve's off-kilter, maniac energy, and maintaining him as someone that you could never take your eyes off of. It never registered as obnoxious, at least, and I enjoyed both his work in the very quintessential-feeling "dog alarm" piece and as Ted Baxter (which I feel works rather well despite not fully understanding the references), but it does start to glaze over you at a certain point.

In spite of that, this actually wasn't a bad episode for ensemble pieces, as show-stealing as Steve could get. The "Jeopardy 1999" bit allowed for some fun, nuanced performances from Dan and Laraine (and I suppose Chevy as well), and in spite of its length, the Beatniks sketch was a fantastic showcase for the cast, giving everyone a spotlight to just do their thing and demonstrate their unique value prospect within the show. (Chevy fiddles around and plays to the audience, Garrett sings maniacally, John preys on the audience he's about to have a breakdown, etc.) You can tell that everyone in the cast enjoys working with Steve, and Steve enjoys working with everyone else as well, which is the most valuable aspect of this episode—it's like a proof of concept, testing the waters for better things to come. With that being said, this inaugural hosting gig scored a bit under my expectations. (Penned 6/15/21)

GRADE: B.

10/30/76: Buck Henry / The Band (S2 E06)

I've found myself to have a lot of love for Buck as a host; his affability is charming, and while his range isn't great, he's as dedicated to serve the show as the show to play to his strengths. With that being said: man, this episode struggled to find the right groove. It's a symptom of SNL being as dated a show as it is in the 1970s that something flags for me almost every episode, but this episode really takes the cake up top, going from Buck's tasteless monologue (Chevy is gay, Laraine and Jane are abused spouses, the whole nine yards) into the obligatory Futaba piece, into a piece that forces Garrett to dress up as tribal men and women and talk about his ancestors being raped. For the most part, none of the unproblematic material makes up for that difference, either; Wawa was Wawa, I'm fatigued by the debate sketches by this point, and while there were some interesting Halloween vibes towards the end of the episode (between the Gary Weiss film and Garrett remotes), the night feels like it starts and ends with a whimper, albeit for a few oases of premium content.

While "Bat-o-Matic" is surprisingly robust for a sequel to such an iconic sketch, the one piece I'd consider a bona-fide success of the evening is "The Ointment," a sprawling, horror movie spoof packed to the brim with bursts of deadpan insanity. It doesn't just deconstruct every dark moment; it lampoons them with such earnest stupidity to the heightened degree that when Jane sees Dan's priest walk in with a streetlight impaled through his chest, she simply tells Buck, "Find out where he got that terrific lamp." It can be hard to write something that irreverent without it becoming smarmy, but Buck is the perfect host to pull it off, and even Chevy lands some brilliant laughs—not the worst way to go out!

Ultimately, though, the episode is most fondly remembered for featuring the Futaba sketch where Buck's head gets sliced open. It's a blunder that forces him to wear a bandage on his forehead for the rest of the night, a funny sight that slowly culminates in the rest of the cast joining him in bandage-wearing solidarity. While that doesn't really impact the quality of the rest of the night's material, it's a fun reflection of how surreal the show could be in its infancy, and how much camaraderie came with that, especially with a host whose as good of a sport as Buck. The dude gets sliced in the head, finishes the night, and comes back seven more times while doing more Samurai sketches with the same sword! That establishes Buck as an all-timer, even if the material of this episode itself doesn't. (Penned 7/15/21)

GRADE: B-.

11/13/76: Dick Cavett / Ry Cooder (S2 E07)

As someone who was very unenthralled by Dick Cavett's first hosting gig, I was curious how this second one would go. He's sort of a mythical comedian talk show host guy, right? And maybe he just didn't shine through that first episode a ton as someone who was working with a show that didn't quite have itself all the way figured out. Well, this episode basically comes in to prove that no amount of dedication can make Dick pop on SNL, coming into the already-lukewarm material like a wet blanket with his silky, all-too-calculated voice. 

As Dick mentions in his monologue, he was stepping in last minute for Elliott Gould, and man, this episode sure has those vibes. Although Dick plugs into this episode far more than his last, which relegated him frequently to limp solo pieces, he doesn't enchant the writers any more. His monologue was where he shined the most, making decent use of his wry delivery but man... what is there to even say outside of that? Some sketches were moderately ambitious (the Bees sketch) but all of it was pretty grim, and all of it found Dick awkwardly plugged in and mumbling through his material in that way that reminds you that Dick Cavett is incapable of doing anything that steps outside of a very small box which he is, nonetheless, incredibly comfortable in. I can't even really single out a single sketch that's interesting to talk about. Thanks a lot, Elliott. (Penned 6/16/21)

GRADE: D.

11/20/76: Paul Simon / George Harrison (S2 E08)

Alright, so the Paul Simon episode was rather odd. I had fairly different hopes for it; considering his last episode was more a musical extravaganza than a proper SNL episode, I was looking forward to seeing Simon lead off a more conventional episode of SNL as host, which... didn't exactly pan out. But with the circumstances of the episode, I can get behind how things shook out. Paul Simon and George Harrison are two legendary musicians, with the latter being one of the most elusive grabs that the show could've gotten at the time, and it remains an elusive grab to this day, so if we're gonna have him in the studio, why not let him show two of his music videos? How many outlets were there for those back in 1976? I can only imagine how exciting that must've been at the time, and they're still pretty fun to watch now. 

It helps, too, that Simon and the show got to play around with some more comedic work as well. The monologue, of course, is iconic, and the visual of Simon dressed up like a turkey sincerely singing "Still Crazy After All These Years" is aces, but the cold open build-up is a delightful accoutrement. (There's an actually-funny Chevy cameo!) The post-monologue commercial, too, is a piece that I can only assume is vastly-underrated; it's a hilarious concept (the stone-crunching sounds absolutely sent me) that makes perfect use of Jane's dry, deadpan delivery. Paul didn't get to do a ton else sketch-wise, but he sold the show's biggest sketch ("Billy Paul") perfectly, if not just because it is intrinsically funny to see Simon playing a soft-spoken tough guy. He's, improbably, a genuinely good comedic performer, and the greatest shame here is just that the musical nature of the episode overshadows his chance to play along with the cast more. With that being said, this was a pretty good time. (Penned 6/16/21)

GRADE: B.

11/27/76: Jodie Foster / Brian Wilson (S2 E09)

The prospect of a child/teenaged host is about as novel as it is nerve-wracking, and indeed, it's sort of hard to imagine what it would look like for a 14 year-old Jodie Foster to politely solicit sketch suggestions from a cocaine-addled writer's room, but dammit, this episode kind of works! Jodie isn't the strongest host, but I feel like that's fairly acceptable given her age, and while she doesn't sell all of her sketches, she's integrated into the show pretty well. She scores one especially great sketch, a sweet, slice-of-life piece with her student character obsessing over her teacher. It stands in stark contrast to her awkward performances in some of the night's other pieces, locking in perfectly and charmingly to the fast-paced dialogue (barring one cute flub) and proving herself to be a legitimate scene partner to Dan Aykroyd, which is no small feat at all. Mr. Mike also gets the great blessing of getting to read this week's twisted children's story to an actual child, and while all Jodie really has to do is sit on his lap and grin along to his narration, her presence gives the sketch the bump that it needs to land all of its macabre detail pointedly.

Fortunately, too, even if the other sketches don't play too much to Jodie's strengths or feature Jodie at all, they're all pretty strong. Jodie's roles in the Bees sketch and "Puberty Blockers" are divertive, but their central premises shine through as sharp continuations to tried-and-true bits. The "Don Pardo" sketch was a sweet tribute to the show's seasoned announcer and a strong distillation of the past two seasons' worth of jokes about him. Dan and Laraine got to shine in two solo bits, the former being one of my favorite pieces from the past season (the metal detector sketch). Lastly, Gilda's runner through the episode was very enjoyable and charming work as usual from her, though I wish she was more in commission here; she's great at playing more childlike characters and feel like she could've concocted something special with Jodie. All in all, in a season that's left me fairly mixed up to this point, this episode was far more solid than its negative reputation suggests. (Penned 6/17/21)

GRADE: B.

12/11/76: Candice Bergen / Frank Zappa (S2 E10)

Man, can we just get Candace Bergen to host SNL every Christmas? I don't know what it is about her, but she seems to bring out the best from the show. It's kind of improbable, really; Candace is charming, but she's not really a natural host so much as a game participant, but she's always worked into the show well, and if her legendary break in "Right to Extreme Stupidity" is any indication, she's more than content to sit back and enjoy the show in awe as much as the rest of us.

She's the sort of host that brings out the best of the cast without ever trying to out-class them. Perhaps it's no surprise that the three pieces tonight where it's just her playing off of one of the show's other performers are all great in their own little ways—her monologue with Belushi-as-Bogart, her aforementioned piece with Gilda, and of course the legendary debut of Irvin Mainway, one of Dan's greatest sketch creations. She also slots in finely as a team player in this episode's Christmassy mini-epic, "The Killer Trees," a piece which (barring some really unfortunate Gilda use) is a strong dose of dark, seasonal absurdity. So often we see Christmas episodes from SNL that just feel like the show's already entered break mode, so to see something that electrifying and involved punctuate an episode like this is a reminder of the potential that this sort of episode has to feel special!

Oh, and Frank Zappa being around, too, was the expected treat; while I wasn't too into the second performance personally, Belushi's yelling be damned, the "I Am the Slime" and "Peaches en Regalia" renditions are stunning. I reckon he would make quite the solid SNL host, right? Right? Either way, this is what a Christmas episode should be.

FINAL GRADE: A+.

Other things I couldn't slip into the write-up:
— Although the Polaroid sketch was nothing special, I really liked it as a bit of a tongue-in-cheek nod to the strange, uncomedic Polaroid spots Candice did in her previous hosting stints. There's a fun, meta vibe to the episode in general which I think the bits complements to well.
The joke about Belushi wanting to presumbly sleep with minors was super unwarranted.
— I loved the Gary Gilmore Christmas medley. Very topical but the show had the foresight to set it up so that nothing was lost on me, which I appreciated. It feels like Mr. Mike's version of "Winter Wonderland" from the last Candy Berg Christmas episode, which also serves as a nice, reflective bookend for how far the show's come since then. (Penned 6/17/21)

1/15/77: Ralph Nader / George Benson (S2 E11)

So Ralph Nader as a host is kind of weird, right? Another notch in these early years' penchant for getting the most eclectic line-up they could manage. For someone I had no real expectations of, though, I found Nader's presence to be fairly inoffensive, certainly in the upper echelon of non-entertainer hosts. He gets an A for effort all the way, and while he tends to come in too strong with his lines, there's a sense that he's enjoying himself, which somehow registers as more charming than narcissistic. Maybe that's just because he did get some of the material over against all odds, like that insane sex doll sketch, or maybe because I can't doubt from his maniacal peanut-throwing during the goodnights that he was content with the night going on just a bit longer. Basically, he felt like a dorky dad appearing on his son's favorite TV show, and fuck, man, I love that.

With that being said, the night was for the most part successful without paying heavy dues to his presence. He's the nucleus only insofar as he allows the funny to happen around him, whether that means being hollered at by Dan's Jimmy Carter, fielding inane questions from Laraine, Bill, and Gilda (all buried deeply in character work), or stepping offstage entirely so that Andy Kaufman could victoriously flail himself around doing an all-too-convincing Elvis impression. Nader never dragged the episode into a crater, though, for which he deserves all the respect in the world; he's able with what he's given, undemanding as it may be.

And speaking of Bill: little Billy Murray makes his debut as the latest member of the Not Ready for Prime Time Players here, and he immediately proves himself to be as adept a performer as SNL could ask for, filling in the night's Belushi deficit that you almost forget the dude's gone. He gets to demonstrate a refreshing edge to all of the roles he plays across the episode, big or small. One of the night's biggest highlights, featuring the dress rehearsal for an execution, cast him in the sort of smarmy, self-obsessed character work that's come to define his oeuvre, and he made for a fine, quietly-befuddled straight man in the debut Coneheads sketch, but for my money, his best work of the night was in the "Long Distance" sketch. It's the sort of piece that risks leaving the new guy hanging out to dry—hell, nobody knows who he is, he wasn't even announced in the opening credits!—but he confidently anchors the piece with a startling mix of deliciously mean-spirited humor and deeply affecting pathos. SNL's been overdue for some freshness, and while it'll take him some time to get integrated into the show, this is a promising step forward. (Penned 6/18/21)

GRADE: B+.

1/22/77: Ruth Gordon / Chuck Berry (S2 E12)

I'm not quite sure how much of a bead I have on the Ruth Gordon episode. As I watched it, in spite of its generally subpar nature, I was immeasurably charmed by Ruth; she seemed like she was having the time of her life up there, gamely playing along and imbuing all of her work with a very warm presence... but the revelation that she, in fact, had a horrible time by all accounts, pulls me away from that a bit. Respect to Ruth, though, I suppose—she knows how to put on a show for the audience which seems to speak towards a more cheerful, false reality.

Like its host, too, the episode feels energetic and enthusiastically put-together, though none of the material truly gels. It feels like the cast bringing their A-game over some B-tier writing. John has returned to the show, notably and perhaps unwisely, to ride out the cold open and a meandering sketch from a wheelchair before riskily wobbling onstage for the goodnights, so I applaud the effort there, I suppose? Dan and Laraine do their fair share of work here as well, each holding up some pretty iffy material by the strength of their charisma: the elderly pimp sketch has a weird, dead energy, but Dan's violent screams tickled me silly, and the Barbara Streisand sketch was minutes too long but packed some enjoyably scathing bite in no small part due to Laraine's character work. (Dan did get a real banger of a sketch, though, with his prototypically-insane "Crazy Frank" commercial spot.) Ruth plugged into the show most effectively with Gilda, especially in the charming slice-of-life babysitter sketch; it's a further testament to their surprising rapport that Ruth even helps make an Emily Litella vehicle work a bit. 

There's at least a kernel of something to appreciate in every sketch, but it's a characteristically uneven outing for Season 2 that was buoyed, in no small part, by false enthusiasm. It was nice to be cast under the spell for a bit, at least. (Penned 6/18/21)

GRADE: B-.

1/29/77: Fran Tarkenton / Leo Sayer, Donny Harper (S2 E13)

While I'm usually pretty interested in this season's string of more peculiar, novelty offerings, I can't say I was too excited about the series' first athlete host—Fran Tarkenton. Nothing personal against the guy, but athletes have never proved themselves to be the most conducive to comedy. At best, they're just a fun lug who weathers the night with enthusiasm, if not always burning charisma. This wasn't the most successful episode, though, in large part to Fran, who just isn't interesting enough to get a lot of material over more. He's surrounded by decent, very involved sketches from an episode that is very clearly trying its best with him, but when your central figure isn't malleable, it dooms your sketches to trudge in a qualitatively straight line.

The episode as at its best when it slot him in as a cog in the overarching framework. I loved the ongoing runner, starting the evening off with a pep talk and treating the night like a football game with him as the star player in need of occasional assists and advice. With that being said, it didn't always work, and Fran didn't do much to fill in those occasional gaps. It's certainly entertaining to watch a bedroom sketch get repeatedly interrupted by time-outs with color commentary from Bill Murray for instance, but at the same time, the material that metaness is being applied to isn't anything too new, and at a certain point you're just waiting boredly for the sketch to be interrupted 'cuz it's not like Fran is gonna suddenly add something to the writing. The show is generally smart to not leave him hanging out to dry, pairing him with performers who can do most of the heavy-lifting and cover for his awkwardness, though curiously, in capitalizing on sketches that cast him as a racist, steroid-addled, and not-very-good football player, the night seems designed to make him look like a big old dummy anyway.

Either way, the best pieces of the night were ones that sat outside of the night's overall tone: Dan delivered yet another enjoyably-insane infomercial for oversized Swiss Army Gun, and teamed up with Bill as secret service agents bent on helping Amy Carter pass her history quiz. (Bill had a pretty good night in general as well, which was nice!) We also get one of the most legendary Jane Curtin Update moments, with her aggressively and victoriously flashing the camera in response to a middling review of her work at the desk. So I can ultimately respect the spectacle and ambition, but more than anything else I wish that the host was a bit more special. Leo Sayer's brain-melting falsetto, at least, will haunt me for the years to come. (Penned 6/20/21)

GRADE: B-.

2/26/77: Steve Martin / The Kinks (S2 E14)

As with his first hosting stint, while Steve fits in seamlessly to the fabric of the show, we're still yet to really actualize his presence to the fullest potential. Indeed, it feels here like he's just sort of asserting his reliable presence over a sea of material that certainly utilizes him well, but not to the end of making a huge impact most of the time. Sure, we can have him play a reliable straight man in this episode's return of the Coneheads, but if your sketch doesn't have anything new to offer over the last, it feels like a waste of this great gathering of comic minds. And in other news, yes, Steve can sell just about any quick, silly bit of dialogue you give him, but his motor-mouthed delivery and the sparkle in his eyes were just about the most functional thing about the "Hollywood Squares" sketch, otherwise a string of iffy impressions (not this era's strongsuit) and even iffier direction. As with his standup monologue, Steve gives off a sort of intensely-calculated looseness, which I'm hoping eventually becomes more legitimately loose with future hosting gigs.

There were two particularly strong pieces which made perfect use of Steve. The first, featuring him as a doctor trying to assure the parents of a terminally-ill child, is an effective vehicle for his ability to be both goody and straitlaced simultaneously, a persona that becomes delightfully-sharp as the sketch takes stranger and stranger turns. Even better, though, was the absolutely delightful date sketch shared between Steve and Gilda; it's one of the first chances we get to see their remarkable chemistry, and the two bounce perfectly off of each other, spouting beautifully-specific dialogue while exhibiting a legitimate connection. While those two sketches are better than anything from Martin's first episode, I feel like this one is still an overall step down because of the lessened consistency. We're getting there with Steve, though. I can feel it.

FINAL GRADE: B-.

(Oh yeah, and Lily Tomlin made some appearances, though not much to the episode's benefit. As always, she's charming, but her charm doesn't quite funnel into funny material, even if this time it's more the fault of her own ideas than a writer's room struggling to know what to do with her.) (Penned 6/21/21)

3/12/77: Sissy Spacek / Richard Baskin (S2 E15)

I wanted to like this Sissy Spacek episode more than I did. I feel like it's an episode that by and large should work, and an episode with a lot of enthusiasm surrounding it—hell, it won an Emmy!—but so little from it really pops off, leaving things feeling, frustratingly, like they're consistently almost there, but just... not. It's hard to attribute that to Sissy, who radiates a certain charisma and who gets to demonstrate her capabilities as a host every step of the way, but she also doesn't really elevate the material so much as slipping properly into the ensemble. When the ensemble's not doing the best work, though, what are we left with?

Well, a pretty mixed episode. The best of the best is the cold open, with Sissy and the entire cast awkwardly trying to persevere through the night in spite of the death of Dave Wilson, delivering half-assed eulogies with the general information they've gathered in passing about the guy. It's the one moment where the episode's concepts crystallize into a thoroughly-fulfilling scene, but the ensuing night isn't able to spark that in the rest of its material. The "Ask Jimmy Carter" sketch has Dan and Bill doing strong work, and a particularly great bit where Dan's Carter talks down a caller on acid, but everything else takes a backseat before segueing into a limp piece that puts poor Garrett in drag. The "quintlexia" sketch has a decent, absurdist idea at its root, but the iffiness of its subject matter (Jane, at a certain point, actively mocks Bill's learning disability) and Bill's intense stage fright keep it stuck in a limbo. And the impotence sketch is Sissy's best shot at delivering a powerhouse performance, but it ends up being too listless and unassisted by her delivery. 

The most successful proper sketch by default, is "Bad Playhouse," a fairly straightforward, unelaborate sketch taking the piss out of Scandinavian existentialism, but at least it nails those goalposts. Oh, how I wish I liked you more though, episode. (Penned 6/22/21)

GRADE: C+.

3/19/77: Broderick Crawford / Levon Helm, Dr. John, The Meters (S2 E16)

The Broderick Crawford episode should be something of a small disaster. By all accounts, Broderick spent his entire week at the show hammered and drifting around bars, and on the show itself, he spends much of his time sitting on the monologue stage in a comfy chair, somewhere between performer and audience member. (I found his occasional contributions to the show incredibly charming, for what it's worth.) Regardless, I felt like it got off fairly well, producing an episode with the right sorts of weird vibes that, if not consistently strong, did a good job of maintaining your attention and demonstrating the sort of diversity in its sketch content that makes SNL as fun as it theoretically always should be.

Across the sketches, we get such delights as a Siamese twin hostage situation, an interview with an incredibly nonchalant Godzilla, and Lucy Ricardo spraying whipped cream on nuclear warheads, and even if not all of them worked, there's something to be said about how the material teemed with life rather than stagnating as this era perpetually risks. The material also offered a nice mix of demonstrating the cast's strengths, and sometimes their more underrated capabilities. Sure, Belushi can yuck it up as Futaba through another bit of half-baked anarchy, but I much preferred his wise-cracking Godzilla performance, a nice display of his ability to charm. And sure, Gilda can do her Baba Wawa shtick well, but the I Love Lucy piece was a delightful display of her physical comedy prowess. (Dan, meanwhile, continues to score with his insane commercial pitches—this time advertising a leather shop where you slaughter your own cows—and Jane continues to cruelly play with my emotions with another scintillating Update opener.)

The best of the night, though, was the historic moment where Bill Murray simply sat at a desk and addressed the audience that he felt like he was failing as a cast member. It's been interesting to trace his tenure up to this point: aside from making a scorching debut in the Nader episode, he's mostly just hung around the ensemble, occasionally making decent contributions but also frequently being caught in thankless roles. Last episode also found him in his worst place yet, anxiously drifting through the "quintlexia" sketch and attracting the ire of the show's writers for sabotaging their material with a bad performance. But here, he's poised, and he's vulnerable; it's as much a piece of comedy as a plea, but even with its dark bite—he uses his dead father to quietly guilt the audience into laughing for him—it's shockingly heartfelt, capturing a moment in time where Bill Murray wasn't a smug, self-assured comedy superstar so much as a young, starry-eyed comedian who just wanted to make it on the show. Only a few more weeks, Billy. (Penned 6/23/21)

GRADE: B.

3/26/77: Jack Burns / Santana (S2 E17)

Jack Burns, as a host, was a bit tough for me to crack. He was more than sufficient for the material at hand, and occasionally the spice that made a scene land, while other times he was fairly dead in the water. I suppose that’s the paradox with getting an old comedy pro to host your hip late-night comedy show, huh? I feel like he brought about a real variety show air to proceedings, whether or not he was a participant in the sort of sketches comprising his episode. The predominantly punchline-driven or pun-laden affairs and the bevy of racial oopsie-doos give things an unexpectedly old-timey feel, to sometimes-charming, sometimes-exhausting effect.

Some bits are more cute than funny, but feel like they were pulled out of old comedy pocketbooks, a time when joke construction wasn’t that elaborate and you could just come up with something as simple as “army man officiating a wedding,” deliver strong performances, and call it a day. It works, at least. The “Squatters” sketch was similar, but then never really gets over the initial stupidity of its conceit; I get the appeal of constructing something of a mini-epic around the dumbest idea possible, but when all you do is repeat lame jokes for five minutes and dress Gilda and Garrett up as a Native American and a slave, you’re not gonna get far. (Oh, and the topic of some old hat racist bullshit, the less said about the episode’s obligatory brownface sketch and the sketch with everyone speaking with African accents, the better.)

On the plus side, though, the cold open and Coneheads sketch offered a nice spark. John Belushi holding the show hostage in the former was a fun exercise in his ability to finagle with the audience’s trust and be smarmy in a legitimately hysterical way, whereas the latter just made for some good old-fashioned silliness (and breaking!). The best of the night, though, and the best shot that Jack got, was in the sketch’s final night, appropriately bookending the overall vibes by casting him as a washed-up comedy writer attempting to leech onto Jane and Gilda—a nice, slice-of-life style piece with hints of sadness, all making for a thoughtful meditation on how comedy’s transformed overtime. It helps put into perspective, coincidentally, what made SNL feel so fresh and different from that which preceded it, even if some of that is lost almost half a century down the line, and indeed lost in this episode’s occasionally-hacky shuffle. (Penned 6/23/21)

GRADE: B-.

4/09/77: Julian Bond / Tom Waits, Brick (S2 E18)

Julian Bond's episode is one that took me some time to sit with, and it remains a tricky little episode to assess. Julian, to his credit, is a surprisingly charming host; if he's a bit wooden, he's very polished wood and a surprisingly engaging performer who more than less plays an important hand in selling all of the things he's given. Is that, in part, because the idea of someone like Julian Bond telling Garrett that lighter-skinned African-Americans are naturally more intelligent than darker ones is intrinsically amusing? Perhaps, but he imbues the writing with intrigue; it should stand as a testament to that fact that I was able to navigate the episode's obligatory Carter piece with my interest maintained. 

With that being said, assessing the Julian Bond episode is assessing a double-edged blade. This is a very racially-charged episode, unsurprisingly—even excluding pieces of a more political nature—and one written by SNL's white-as-shit writer's room, but whereas other attempts to participate all too gamely in challenging material have come across as offensive and degrading... this episode gets over. It runs the gamut from outrageous material, like the aforementioned "Black Perspective" sketch with Garrett, to some more challenging content, like the slice-of-life Farbers sketch, all with Julian serving as a confident anchor. SNL's writers room succeeds here, and there's a conflicting sense that they "got away with it" which makes me question if I should choose to be pleased by that surprise, or to remain frustrated at the show's inherent DNA. But I'll choose to allow my appreciation for the night's nuance to remain unfettered, and I'll enable the scale to be tipped with some assistance from the awesome musical performance from Brick and Dan's insane "Dr. X" sketch. It's a good one! (Penned 6/25/21)

GRADE: B+.

4/16/77: Elliott Gould / McGarrigle Sisters, Roslyn Kind (S2 E19)

At the end of this episode, Elliott Gould's third hosting gig, John exclaimed that Elliott was the best host that the show's ever had, and while I don't think his first two episodes fully popped off for me to the point of succeeding... goddammit, we got there with this one. And weirdly enough, I don't think that it's because Elliott is the sort of host that'll make a huge splash and command the stage. He's often relegated to straight roles here, if he gets a chance to really appear in a sketch at all. (Most of the night's most successful material admittedly has no stakes in his hosting.) But there's a clear sense that he's just there to put on a show; he's a consummate performer who's nevertheless willing to not just share but shed the spotlight to those around him with sincere deference. In layman's terms, he's kind of a fucking badass, even if he only really gets a few chances to show that to the audience.

Most prominently, he carries SNL's first truly successful musical monologue, which by default makes it pretty memorable. While in the past, Elliott delivered straightforward, comedy-scant musical performances at the top of his shows, SNL realized this time that it could do this thing where it fuses his musical showmanship with comedic intent. The resulting castration walk is a hoot, spelling out an expectedly dark premise with an infectious sense of goofiness carried out nimbly by Elliott, John, and Bill. Elsewhere, Elliott is put to good use mediating over the Coneheads sketch and cold open, imbuing his thankless roles with the sort of life that makes him, nevertheless, a thrilling component of the scenes. He's less the face of the show than the backbone, which is a noble position to hold all the same. 

Some of the best material of the night, though, didn't necessitate his involvement so much as his willingness to let the sketch pros do their work. Bill, notably, gets to hold down a fairly defining night for his early tenure here. He fumbles pretty roughly through "You've Come a Long Way, Buddy" (though not to the detriment of the already-rickety sketch, Dan's performance notwithstanding), but the debut of Nick Summers more than makes up for those blunders. It's a fairly rough outline of what the sketches would inevitably become but he fills out that roughness with pathos, navigating the line of making his kitschy character a subject of strong empathy. He also shines alongside Garrett (an equally unrecognized performer) in the ATM sketch, a high-concept bit of absurdity that they offer refreshingly laid-back performances over, creating something of a slice-of-life piece from an alternate universe where ATM machines necessitate IQ tests and spit out head cheese instead of paper money. 

There's really something here for everyone. Elliott delivers, the cast delivers, and if you're the kind of broken human being who likes sports bloopers presented with some weird, implicatively auteur slant that doesn't transfer across, then Gary Weiss has your back, too. SNL is still far from a well-oiled machine, but this episode makes for a good example of the potential for gems in that roughness, especially for a season that's sometimes felt a bit too fruitless. (Penned 6/25/21)

FINAL GRADE: A-.

4/23/77: Eric Idle / Alan Price, Neil Innes (S2 E20)

Expectations, as I've said before, are the mortal enemy of SNL. No amount of theoretical promise, or even past precedent set by the show, can spell out the potential strength or weakness of an episode, try as it might. And for me, although it was incredibly well-assembled, Eric Idle's second hosting stint didn't quite stick the landing for me. It's an episode that works hard, but one whose material doesn't resonate quite enough, even if it makes for a worthy enough successor to Idle's instant-classic debut.

The episode certainly rises to meet him with a series of more absurdist ideas and strong performances, but it's just not quite enough most of the time. Most obviously, the "Heavy Wit Championship" piece is a clunker when it set itself up to be a centerpiece; it's the sort of idea that seems so strong up front but reveals itself to be limp on arrival, with John and Eric trading groaners while sluggishly pushing each other around. A later, surefire piece, the gun airline sketch, holds dark promise, but it hits an early crescendo and can't figure out where else to go with the viscerality of its conceit. The rest of the more long-format sketch material is alright, though again, didn't speak to me too much: I've never been as engaged in the show's Nixon material as most, so I glazed over the Frost/Nixon sketch up top the show, and the later British war movie sketch fluctuated up and down a bit too much with the repetition of its punchline, even if it got some laughs out of me. 

But now, the good! The episode's absurdity was best in its short bursts: the ongoing runner involving Eric's failed telethon alongside the Queen made for a fun narrative, Dan got to go one-on-one with Eric in the rapid-fire nonsense "Plain Talk" sketch, and Gary Weiss scores a home run with his "body language" collaboration with Eric. (The two clearly hit it off considering he'd go on to direct the Rutles' TV movie.) Neil Innes also contributes two delightfully fitting musical numbers for the episode, a Lennon-inspired bit of piano psychedelia per the Rutles and a colorful, cheerful romp in the form of "Shangri-La." With that being said, the pockets of immense goodness don't do quite enough to counter the more substantive, iffy sketches that plague the line-up, and the end result just feels like the episode teasing promise that it never expends. (Penned 6/26/21)

GRADE: B.

5/14/77: Shelley Duvall / Joan Armatrading (S2 E21)

I'm tickled that, against all odds, the Shelley Duvall episode did more for me in some weird way than Eric Idle. Obviously, my calibration is set back a bit when the host isn't someone known for forward-thinking comedy, but I think the Shelley episode deserves more credit for its strengths than the bump it got from my leniency. Something about it feels different in a distinctly refreshing way, like the show trying at something different, which for SNL tends to always be appreciable, if nothing else.

Perhaps it's due to Shelley's pedigree as a dramatic actor, but she seemed to fulfill an itch by the show to delve in the dramatic and try at different tones. Instead of the usual cold open and monologue up top the show, we come to in the aftermath of an aborted cold open and follow Shelley into a backstage locker room where she chats it up with the girls of SNL being hard-asses on the newbie and toughening her up while the live TV feed plays behind her. If it's not laugh-out-loud funny, it's fascinating as hell seeing the show play its meta games so straight—there's not even laughter in the mix to air out the tension—and those off-beat vibes continue into the show-opening musical number substituting the place of a conventional monologue. (Even the show's obligatory, weekly Gary Weiss film is swapped for an absurdist short film from a different director about brides, and it's single-handedly better than anything Gary's contributed to the show.)

The rest of the night's bits are either solidly enjoyable or at least novel, which is pretty much the best thing I could ask for from these early years of SNL. Both the bank robbery and slice-of-life sketches made for strong Dan showcases; the former is one of the best, pure-funny sketches this season, hilariously de-escalating Dan and gang's armed robbery when everyone gets too confused by what his disguise is supposed to represent, while the latter finds him ardently defending his van upgrade obsession from his wife (Shelley) with startlingly affecting conviction. It's also Shelley's best shot all episode, and she knocks it out of the park. She's used wisely elsewhere as a member of the ensemble but the episode keeps her on her toes and she handles her responsibilities nimbly, whether that means playing a brain-washed cult member or helping Gilda and Laraine differentiate Ricardo Montalban from other near-identical, hive-minded Latin lovers in his midst. Aside from the Elvis sketch, everything here had some spark of enjoyability that was at least partially sold by Shelley's involvement, so what can I really complain about? (Penned 6/26/21)

GRADE: B+.

5/21/77: Buck Henry / Jennifer Warnes, Kenny Vance (S2 E22)

Buck Henry, charming as he always is, seems to have become the host who most harnesses SNL's carnal, risqué desires, for better or worse. Do you wanna see Buck get dry-humped by a male "random audience member" on the monologue stage, or lust after Jane at the Update desk, or jerk himself off as Charles Lindbergh? Then this episode's got everything you need. That's not to belittle what it accomplishes: there's a strangely epic feel to a lot of the material, and there's enough risk taken that it's not an episode that can truly aggravate me, but it also just makes me wonder when Buck will get to rein over a fully successful, gratifying episode of the show again.

I suppose it's worth listing what I found to be at least valiant efforts, even if little fully gelled. The Coneheads sketch was theoretically the most thoughtful, game-changing installment yet, with the titular characters deciding to out themselves and return to space, but its best laughs are its usual ones—once we transition to the far-too-long interstitial sequence where they drive around New York and actually get into space, the scale exceeds any degree of written substance, and even the climactic fight at the end feels a bit desperate. (Why do John and Dan just... jump out the window without even attacking each other?) On the other hand, Bill's shower talk show sketch has a promising concept and unique presentation, but it suffers the opposite sort of issue, never feeling like it organically extends its premise into truly exciting territory despite the devilish set-up of introducing Buck as as the man Gilda's cheating on him with. Last but not least in the not-quite-there camp, the Lindbergh sketch actually has a cool framing mechanism, but it suffers from how intent it is to play things as dirty; it seems manufactured to fuck with the censors more than anything else, before devolving into a fucking Chevy Chase cameo vehicle.

If I were to point at two fully good things: Buck's best sketch, and notably one of his only sketches not tainted by some draining sort of debauchery, was "How Your Children Grow," a piece that starts off in a unique place and maintains that curiosity all the way to a satisfying, closing punchline. And Mr. Mike, repetitive as his needle routine may be, delivers as fine of a way to close out this season as anyone could, gathering the cast and writers into a choir and commanding them to scream and contort on the floor in needle-eyed agony. Ultimately, though, this finale serves as an apt summary of Season 2 as a whole: there's some good stuff buried in there, but for the most part it's saddled by expectations that it doesn't quite fill. (Penned 6/26/21)

GRADE: C+.

Cumulative Season Episode Rankings:

1. Candice Bergen (A+)
2. Eric Idle #1 (A)
3. Elliott Gould #3 (A-)
4. Norman Lear (A-)
5. Ralph Nader (B+)
6. Shelley Duvall (B+)
7. Lily Tomlin (B+)
8. Julian Bond (B+)
9. Eric Idle #1 (B)
10. Steve Martin #1 (B)
11. Jodie Foster (B)
12. Paul Simon (B)
13. Broderick Crawford (B)
14. Steve Martin #2 (B-)
15. Buck Henry #3 (B-)
16. Jack Burns (B-)
17. Fran Tarkenton (B-)
18. Ruth Gordon (B-)
19. Buck Henry #4 (C+)
20. Sissy Spacek (C+)
21. Karen Black (C-)
22. Dick Cavett (D+)

FAVORITE SKETCHES:

10. "Gags Beasley" (S2E17 / Jack Burns)
9. "Dragnet" (S2E03 / Eric Idle #1)
8. "Quarry" (S2E08 / Paul Simon)
7. "Long Distance" (S2E11 / Ralph Nader)
6. "Coneheads at Home" (S2E11 / Ralph Nader) or "The Farbers Meet the Coneheads" (S2E17 / Jack Burns)
5. "The Ointment" (S2E06 / Buck Henry)
4. "Lovers" (S2E14 / Steve Martin)
3. "Insect" (S2E21 / Shelley Duvall)
2. "24 Hour Bank" (S2E19 / Elliott Gould)
1.  "Consumer Probe" (S2E10 / Candice Bergen)

Other great sketches: "Debate '76" (S2E01 / Lily Tomlin); "The Metric Leisure Week" (S2E02 / Norman Lear); "A*M*I*S*H" (S2E04 / Karen Black); "Fido Flex" (S2E05 / Steve Martin #1); Paul Simon's Monologue (S2E08 / Paul Simon); "Metal Detector" (S2E09 / Jodie Foster); "Right to Extreme Stupidity League" and "Killer Trees" (S2E10 / Candice Bergen); "TV Execution" (S2E11 / Ralph Nader); Elliott Gould's Monologue (The Castration Walk) and "Nick Summers" (S2E19 / Elliott Gould); "Body Language" (S2E20 / Eric Idle); "Steak House" (S2E21 / Shelley Duvall)

FAVORITE MUSICAL PERFORMANCES / ETC.

10. The Meters (S2E16 / Broderick Crawford)
9. 
Paul Simon and George Harrison (S2E08 / Paul Simon)
8. Dr. John and Levon Helm (S2E16 / Broderick Crawford)
7.
 Neil Innes (S2E20; Eric Idle #2)
6. "The Antler Dance" (S2E01 / Lily Tomlin)
5. The Band (S2E06 / Buck Henry)
4. Joe Cocker & Joe Cocker (S2E03 / Eric Idle)
3. "Gary Gilmore" Christmas medley (S2E10 / Candice Bergen)
2. "Chevy's Girls (S2E02 / Norman Lear)
1. Frank Zappa (S2E10 / Candice Bergen)

SEASON GRADE AVERAGE: B-.

Follow me on Twitter @Matt_a_la_mode!


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