The iconic sketch comedy show Saturday Night Live is celebrating its 50^th season, but the film Saturday Night portrays the production as barely making it to air. Following creator Lorne Michaels, the film depicts the chaotic final hours prior to SNL’s debut. And as entertaining as Saturday Night may be, its deeper message of properly communicating identity is powerful.

Great Expectations

At first it bothered me that the film was titled Saturday Night. That’s bad marketing! I thought. Fans won’t recognize it by its title. Even when I learned the show was originally called Saturday Night I wasn’t convinced. But once I saw the film, I understood. Sure, tacking the “Live” on there is so much better, and the film does mock the original title several times, but using the original title provides an advanced set of expectations for the audience.

No, you’re not seeing a series of classic sketches (Peacock has the first season or you can buy it here). No, you’re not seeing what led to the decision to add “Live” or any other superficial interpretation of SNL. You’re watching a complex docudrama about the ninety minutes leading up to airing the first episode. You may not know all the cast names, or all the sketches or easter eggs, and that’s okay—maybe even enjoyable—because you’re there to see how a revolutionary, now-iconic show, barely made it to air.

The Format-ive vs. Summative

Both the film and the show break conventions. Because Lorne Michaels (played by Gabriel LaBelle) is the producer and creator, he is constantly bombarded with questions throughout the film. Michael’s network counterpart, Dick Ebersol (Cooper Hoffman), is a company man constantly asking Michaels what the show is about. For the majority of the story, Michaels can’t put the premise into words. The film, however, knows exactly what it’s about, and the filmmakers have a unique way of telling their surefooted story.

Director and writer Jason Reitman and co-screenwriter Gil Kenan introduce us to important characters at the beginning, middle, and even at the end. And those anti-cookie-cutter introductions are among many devices that immerse the audience in tension, comedy, and panic.

Other techniques for generating tension include the use of Steadicams to race after characters and, as film critic Christy Lemire notes, a “massive ensemble and a lot of overlapping dialogue, it’s a lot of walking and talking down hallways and there’s a great propulsive kind of chaotic energy that’s very engrossing.” Likewise, the plot pushes the comedic pressure of the show’s unknown premise.

No one is settled on a set list or script, the crew are quitting or being hired minutes before air, contracts remain unsigned. And it gets crazier: lights are on fire, drugs are flowing freely, and someone is laying bricks on stage minutes before they go live. But amidst all the anxious action is the fundamental question: what is the show about?

A Question of Identity

During the film’s third act, co-producer Dick Ebersol catches up to Michaels in a stairwell and, as with the majority of the film’s conversations, it’s incredibly tense. But I’d argue it’s among the film’s most pivotal scenes. Sitting in the theater, it’s when I knew I had to write this article, and I knew exactly what it would be about.

Ebersol yet again pressures Michaels to articulate the show’s identity, but pretty quickly we find Ebersol explaining his own identity. Without giving too much away, it’s a concrete moment where Michaels realizes the network wants them to fail. Michaels must make some tough decisions—which sketches will make it to air, who should host Weekend Update—and most importantly, how to subvert the system while being part of it. 

But if you don’t know who you are, how do you know what to fight for?

The Western Christian world seems to be waking up to the concept of “identity” in recent years. Certainly the Bible has been informative for much longer (Genesis 1:27; Romans 8:15, 12:2; Galatians 3:26), but in the wake of identity politics, Christians are responding. Unfortunately, as Ben Chang explains in Christ and the Culture Wars, Christians have responded poorly in three ways: by mirroring, arguing, and/or ignoring. But, as I mentioned in my 1983 vs. 2023 article, Christians actually desiring a positive response to evangelism are starting to use identity politics buzzwords (through a biblical lens) to articulate the gospel effectively.

Communicating is tough, especially when the content is important. In the words of an Irish proverb: “Say a little and say it well.” When asked what SNL is about, Michaels continually shakes his head and repeats, “Wait until 11:30.”

Contentious Content

Michaels wanted Saturday Night to be a revolution of what comedy had been, of social commentary, and of what TV had allowed. Michaels spent years gathering his cast of extremely funny people with extreme sensibilities. John Belushi (played by Matt Wood) is always one altercation-with-the-establishment away from walking off the show. Saturday Night was a circus and Michaels the lion tamer. But the metaphor runs deeper: Michaels respected his talent’s unpredictable brilliance while casting a vision for social disruption. 

Earlier this week I saw a meme that said, “God is not going to rewrite the Bible for your generation. Stop trying to change Scripture when it’s written to change YOU!” It bothered me, not because it wasn’t true or because it convicted me, but because it was short-sighted and self-serving. One quick image cutting down years of actual relational work being done for the kingdom of God. 

The meme’s content may be true and witty, but it ostracizes the very people we were hoping to communicate with. Statements like this confuse the seekers who weren’t trying to change the Bible, backs into a corner the infinitesimal group who admit this was their intent, reiterates to those who have left the church that nothing has changed and that they made the right choice, and frustrates all the work that biblical Christians of the “younger” generation are doing. I worry that those firing off unnecessarily alienating statements don’t really understand the heart of Jesus’s message. It’s one thing to not understand the content you’re communicating, and another to understand it but struggle to convey it.

It would be a grave mistake to revere Michaels for successfully pulling off SNL while not even understanding his own creation. But the creator did know his audience and the content; yet he struggled to summarize it because it had never been done before.

We Christians are constantly in danger of failing at evangelism by either misunderstanding or miscommunicating (or both). Ten years ago I would have hammered on the necessity for us to understand the content: it’s a serious problem when people call themselves Christians without a solid or balanced view of the Bible. But if ill-informed Christians keep a misunderstood gospel to themselves, they’re not doing broad social harm. Nowadays, I’m far more concerned that we don’t know our audience but continue talking anyway. As George Bernard Shaw said: “The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.”

Resenting the Hell Out of This Conversation

It blew my mind when I realized Saturday Night was communicating about communicating. And the film’s character portrayals are a great example of the film’s messaging technique. Christy Lemire again: “Cory Michael Smith is Chevy Chase and… Dylan O’Brien is Dan Aykroyd… doing the versions of the persona of these actors that we think we know. And they’re not—I don’t think they’re even trying to approximate them as human beings, but more, the fun of recognition of like, ‘Ah! That’s who I know them to be!’”

Part of the genius was casting actors the audience may not recognize (or not know well), since a staple of the show is casting a bunch of unknowns. So the filmmakers and cast were intentional in paying homage to the show while effectively speaking to the audience fifty years later. Each generation should know the past while having the freedom to forge their own path. More importantly, this is true of Christianity: each generation makes decisions to ignore or acknowledge different parts of its tradition, and decides how to communicate these truths to their peers.

Throughout history many Christians have agreed with a handful of “dogmatic” truths, chiefly: the deity of Jesus (and the Trinity), that Jesus saves from sin, salvation by grace through faith, the resurrection of Jesus, and the Bible’s inerrancy.¹¹ In essence, these (should) become our identity, as Colossians 3:3 says: “[Y]ou died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.”

Just dumping a truth on a current platform (let’s say, an aggressive meme on social media) doesn’t mean we’ve bridged the gap between our faith and the current culture. If we truly want to communicate these truths, we must provide balanced theological views and make them accessible. But doing both of these requires humility, not just taking a shortcut or screaming about our favorite controversial issue.

Three things come to mind that we must start doing. First, stop speaking Christianese when trying to reach the unchurched (and this starts with pastors). Second, listen more and talk less. And third, think and talk through our views before beginning actual conversations with someone who doesn’t believe the same things we do. And if it seems like these “musts” are geared for individual, personal conversations, that’s because they are.

Most of us should not have access to worldwide audiences. We  have neither the humility nor the local cultural acumen to communicate well, and we don’t conduct risk-assessment or understand the consequences of  transmitting an incredibly important message across global platforms like social media. The vast majority of Christians need to simultaneously recognize that we live in local bubbles (with confirmation bias loops), while understanding that personal relationships are accessible to all. Consider personal conversations rather than global communications. 

Two points of clarity. First, I’m not saying we should mirror the culture (remember how every youth group room in the ’90s looked like an MTV set?). In the same way Michaels subverted the sketch comedy model from within the established NBC network machine, we can creatively use current culture to explain doctrinal truths.

And second, I’m not saying you must plan out every conversation, or not use tools like the internet, or be scared to share because you don’t have a theology degree. No, this is where the Holy Spirit speaks through us using cultural references (as Paul did in Acts 17:16-34). Michaels kept repeating, “Wait, until 11:30,” because he was confident of the foundation even if he couldn’t distill the revolution into a palatable premise or a memorable meme. Likewise, we can trust that God will use the solid foundation He has built to speak to people in ways we can’t imagine or articulate.

1. Many lists exist, here are several: Diocese of Lansing’s “What Do Catholics Believe?,” TGC’s “Levels of Doctrine,” CARM’s “Essential Doctrines of Christianity,” and GotQuestions.org’s “What is Dogma?” ↩︎