‘Saturday Night Live UK’ Review: A Wobbly Start With Strong Potential – When It Leans Into Brit Humor
The news that Great Britain would receive its own version of “Saturday Night Live,” an American comedy institution, was largely met with cynicism on this side of the pond. Why now, after five decades and more than a few failed wannabes?
Every time someone tried to make a British “SNL” happen, it stumbled at the first hurdle, with audiences preferring homegrown political satire like “Have I Got News For You,” “The Mash Report,” and countless sketch comedy acts, from Fry & Laurie to Mitchell & Webb.
Besides, the original may be legendary, but it’s also infamously spotty in terms of quality, with more than a few icky misguided choices to its name (hello, guest host Donald Trump.) Longevity is what has kept it relevant, making it a part of the American cultural furniture alongside late-night talk shows and police procedurals with abbreviated titles. How do you recreate the magic and make us glass-half-empty Brits side with something just because we’ve been told it’s important?
Still, we’ve certainly got some space for some irreverent satire and on-the-edge-of-your-seat live antics with a cast that isn’t made up of the same 13 comedians that populate every other show on our screens. Here we have a young hot cast of largely unknowns, unless you’re a stand-up geek (Scottish comic Larry Dean) or “Taskmaster” devotee (Ania Magliano, Emma Sidi.) They come to us baggage-free, with a blank canvas and sturdy foundations to work upon, and Lorne Michaels, the almighty dictator of the brand, has gotten Tina Fey to join the ranks as the first-ever guest host. Also, we get to swear on our “SNL!”
It all opens, of course, with a political sketch, with Prime Minister Keir Starmer, who keeps saying, “Oh, crumbs,” in his office, terrified of talking to Donald Trump on the phone. In an attempt to take some pressure off his shoulders, they bring in a Gen-Z advisor. Cue the slang about situationships and throuples. It’s not great: very “political satire 101,” although Starmer reminiscing about the good days, like D-Day, did elicit a minor laugh. It was certainly akin to its American counterpart in that it went on a tad too long.
Like its Yankee dad, the setup is identical. The stage is a near-carbon copy of NBC’s iconic set. Even the band sounds the same (the studio is noticeably smaller, although the cramped let’s-put-on-a-show quality it gives does have its own appeal.) “SNL UK” will thrive on its differences from America’s – the ability to be bawdier helps greatly, as show in a surprisingly close-to-the-bone sketch about an anti-aging cream so effective it makes people believe the users’ spouses are pedophiles. Cheeky raunch is a bedrock of British humor, and mercifully they don’t skimp on it here, nor are they shy about some gross prosthetics, particularly with a killer Paddington Bear sketch.
And, of course, they’re big on the profanity. Again, we can’t live without it over here.
Tina Fey is a professional. She knows this format like the back of her hand and was a safe pair of hands to usher in a new age, like the mentor you want in your corner. Cameos like Nicola Coughlan, Graham Norton, and Michael Cera in the crowd did some heavy lifting in the opening monologue. She’s certainly game for sketches where she clearly had no idea what was going on (did someone have to explain to her who Cilla Black is?), and she’s not taking all the attention from the central crew. It’s still too early for standouts, but a special shout-out must go to Jack Shep for a surprisingly spot-on Princess Diana impression and Hammed Animashaun for his turn as a too-honest journalist on a press junket.
The moments that stumble are those that feel too much like obligations to adhere to the American formula, like the political cold open and the David Attenborough’s dinner party sketch that was mostly a platform for a lot of wobbly impersonations. You can also tell that the writers are maybe a bit too excited to have the post-watershed privilege of naughty words. The Paddy Young and Ania Magliano-helmed Weekend Update is par for the course, albeit with a dirty edge. The token movie parody, this one of the recent Oscar-winning tearjerker “Hamnet” with William Shakespeare becoming an increasingly insufferable London jerk with each visit to the city, trips over a cringey premise and ends with an awkward dance number.
“45 Seconds with Foreacres,” a brief side-scene with George Foreacres doing a rambling song of different Irish impressions, was a great peek into a very British future for “SNL: UK”: just a weird random aside that let a talented guy do something entirely their own for no reason other than it was funny. It was short, daft, and surreally funny, and deeply un-American. That’s where the show’s path forward lies.
Teething problems are inevitable, of course, and reviewing a series of sketches from a bunch of newbies doing a live show puts one at risk of being unfair. Even at its supposed peak, “SNL” was erratic at best and had some low moments that would have fans yelling it was past its prime. A wobbly premiere still demonstrates immense potential, particularly with a talented cast that has yet to establish itself. Once we get a greater grasp of these comedians’ skills and styles, the canvas will widen. Let it move away from its predecessor’s flaws – the tendency for sketches to go on too long is a perennial “SNL” problem – and be a truly British endeavor.
The show knows it has an uphill climb. They even made a joke about the Brits’ eagerness to knock stuff down before it’s truly begun. But it also doesn’t have to bear the impossible weight of being a cultural artefact. Maybe that freedom will allow them to evolve into their best form once the teething problems are over. At least we don’t have to worry about our country’s leader angrily live-tweeting throughout.
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