There are many tricks a director might use to convey a sense of urgency. A fly-on-the-wall perspective enhanced by continuous long takes; rapid-fire dialogue; a ticking clock counting down to an impending deadline; or a jazzy soundtrack that underscores the frenzied action. Jason Reitman employs all of these in his ode to Saturday Night Live’s debut on American television. Yet by featuring over 80 speaking parts in a plot that lasts just over 90 minutes other cinematic elements, like character growth or audience empathy, inevitably fall by the wayside.

​

10:00pm. October 11th, 1975. Over the course of the next 1½ hours Lorne Michaels must finalise the content of his new show; confirm the name his wife wants on the credits; get John Belushi’s name on a contract; glad-hand network affiliates; stop an NBC censor from gutting the script; ensure the stage has lighting and sound; provide Jim Henson a script for his Muppet segment; and keep John Belushi’s hands off Chevy Chase’s neck. As the ringmaster of this circus, Michael’s role is comparable to Reitman’s duties as director. However, while he is tasked with trimming the show, Reitman seems intent on cramming every Saturday Night Live anecdote into his film.

As a consequence the film, like its central character, barely pauses for a breath. It takes more than an hour before we learn anything about Michaels’ backstory, after which the film resumes normal programming with another comedy sketch. This frantic pace may permit a certain nostalgic glimpse of Chase’s smug confidence or Belushi’s brutish eccentricity, but it provides very little insight into why they were so revered. Oddly, it’s the non-members of SNL’s original cast, like Billy Crystal and Milton Berle, that provide the film’s more memorable moments.

​

In fact, this biopic has a lot in common with one of Berle’s earlier efforts. Holding the record for the largest number of speaking parts in any film, It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World allowed its cast of comedy greats barely enough screen time to perform their schtick. Likewise Saturday Night is a sterile homage that, in and of itself, is not particularly funny.