Critic Reviews

Really, it’s hard to imagine how “SNL50” could have gone any better as it delivered a welcome mix of comedy and music over almost 3½ hours, wrapped in a warm blanket of nostalgia (without getting sappy).

Really, it’s hard to imagine how “SNL50” could have gone any better as it delivered a welcome mix of comedy and music over almost 3½ hours, wrapped in a warm blanket of nostalgia (without getting sappy).

It was almost like watching multiple seasons of the show overlaid on top of each other, in a good way. For one night, unmoored from its usual time slot or constraints, SNL’s job was more explicitly than ever to play itself.

This was a nearly three- and half-hour production, but it rarely lost its sense of rhythm and fun.

Considering the show had a lot more time to fill than a normal episode, it makes sense some bits wouldn't live up to the others, though admittedly, I found myself surprised by some of the ones that didn't work for me. .... However, the special's sketches were far more hits than misses.

Modest improvements on the decade-old formula made SNL50 feel more like a variety show than an awards ceremony. The choice to favor new sketches over montages and other clips, this time, was smart.

Overall, “SNL50” was a messy, excessive, self-satisfied special, but it was the perfect way to mark the milestone. It was nostalgic, but too irreverent to be mawkish. It hit the notes it needed to hit. And most of all, it made the case for the show’s legacy as well as its continued importance.

Ultimately SNL50 was a good microcosm of Saturday Night Live as a whole. The special was in love with itself but selective about its history, and still aware enough to frequently mock its own conventions and weird institutional baggage. It also was a special dominated by one man who was rarely mentioned on camera and only seen for a brief moment at the very end.

Oddly, “SNL50” was chock-full of callbacks but light on actual nostalgia.

It was a tonnage of effort and personality smushed onto the Studio 8H stage, and it all added up to something that was, well, fine? You could call it serviceable, checking nostalgia boxes while trying desperately to remain relevant to the youth of today, with more screen time for Sabrina Carpenter than Bill Murray.