What’s there to say? That was AWFUL. SNL‘s post-Seth Meyers era began not with a bang, but with a sh*t-in-the-pants, literally and figuratively. When old bits weren’t being ripped off, new ones were half-formed, and the whole episode suffered from weird timing issues, as if the cast was still on vacation. I can’t even blame Jim Parsons, and I SO want to blame Jim Parsons, the white man’s Urkel. He wasn’t good, exactly, but he wasn’t a mess, either. He was caught in the middle of a sub-Big Bang Theory tornado of suck.
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but: BRING ON THE LENA. And let’s never discuss this episode again.
And THAT’S how SNL handles everything terrible that happened in Sochi. I was hoping in the wake of Seth Meyers departure that the cold opens might slowly revert to being not COMPLETELY toothless. Clearly, that was a futile wish, because this was about as toothless and limp as it gets. It’ll seem like a goddamn Richard Pryor standup bit compared to Ellen hosting the Oscars tonight, though.
“BAZINGA HE SAID BAZINGA” — a million fans of TBS, “Very Funny.”
“Bird Bible” knew how dumb it was, which I appreciate, but I wish it had, y’know, actually said something about religion, and not just been an excuse to make Bird Jesus in Photoshop. That’s a funny visual, but that’s about how far “Bird Bible” went: aim for the easy laughs.
Dance Floor Killer
A decent idea that never went anywhere once the premise was established. Jim Parsons is a serial killer of old-school dance shows…until he’s not. Couldn’t we watch Cannibal Countdown instead?
12 Years Auditions
Slavery was really tough on white male actors in the 2010s, you guys.
Hello, Colin Jost, you look like the husband of a famous actress at the Emmys. It was a fairly promising start for Jost: I hated the way he sincerely thanked the audience for the opportunity to host Weekend Update, never undercutting the emotion with a joke, and he needs to work on his delivery, but that can be excused for first-time nerves, because otherwise, he was OK. Seth Meyers-like, which isn’t a terrible thing.
Weekend Update: Charles Barkley and Shaq
Jay Pharaoh missed a cue worse than Shaq did the hoop at the freethrow line (“joke” stolen from Kazaam, or maybe it was Steel?), but he and Kenan more than made up for it with the one-second naps.
Weekend Update: Jebidiah Atkinson
God I wish Jebidiah Atkinson was real, and that he could share his thoughts on this episode.
“Murder Mystery” was like Paul Blart, in that the best joke was the name of the lead character: “Simply Dudley.” Beyond that, yeesh. Parsons came across as a total ass, NOT an oversexed nutball, and his pessimism draged down the momentum that never really took off in the first place, anyway.
Beautifully symbolic of the entire episode: it smelled like crap.
For the first time all season, hell, for the first time since I started regularly recapping the show, I fell asleep while watching SNL. Between the 10-minute delay and the overall mediocrity of the episode, I couldn’t make it through all of “Cowboys” without briefly drifting off. I woke up to fake-Jim Parsons being catapulted and shot, or something, and I’m fairly certain I don’t have to go back and watch what I missed. Lucky fake-Jim Parsons. Bastard gets shot, we have to live with the pain of this episode. BRING BACK SETH.