One very cold Saturday afternoon in January 1978, a week after my sixteenth birthday, my brother Joe and I took a train from Croton-on-Hudson, New York, into “the city” to watch a rehearsal of Saturday Night Live. The tickets I mailed away for a year before were for the 8:00 p.m. “dress rehearsal,” which meant we could take the 10:00 p.m. train back home to see the live broadcast of the show at 11:30 p.m. (The Tropiano family didn’t get their first VCR until 1982.)
I had never been in a television studio before, nor had I ever seen a television star in person. I also remember being nervous because “No one under seventeen will be admitted” was printed on the ticket. Fortunately, no one was paying very close attention, and after waiting for two hours in the halls of 30 Rockefeller Center, the NBC pages ushered us into the balcony of Studio 8H.
We lucked out—season 3, episode #10 was great. Comedian Robert Klein was the host, and Bonnie Raitt, who at the time I only knew as the daughter of Broadway star John Raitt, was the musical guest (she sang “Runaway” and “Give It All Up or Let Me Go” with Klein on the harmonica). The original cast members were all there (minus Chevy Chase, plus Bill Murray). We saw the first “Olympia Café” sketch (“Cheezburger, Cheezburger, Cheezburger”) and the debut of nerds Lisa Loopner (Gilda Radner) and Todd DiLaMuca (Murray), and heard Nick the Lounge Singer (Murray) sing the “theme song” from Star Wars. The episode ended with the studio being taken over by atomic lobsters. The invasion was orchestrated by head writer Michael O’Donoghue, who stood with a bullhorn directing the audience to look scared even though there were no lobsters—atomic or otherwise—in the studio.
The following year I attended another rehearsal with my friend Heidi Jensen, whose father was a correspondent for NBC News. We entered the studio on the VIP line and sat in the first row in front of one of the tiny stages where they perform the sketches. The host was actress Margot Kidder (4.15), who played Lois Lane in the original film version of Superman (1978). The show wasn’t as funny as the first, except for one clever sketch in which newlyweds Lois Lane (Kidder) and Superman (Bill Murray) are throwing a party, and she is concerned her friends won’t mix with his friends, who are all superheroes, like the Flash (Dan Aykroyd) and the Incredible Hulk (John Belushi).
As we were exiting the studio, members of the cast were milling around thanking the audience. As we passed by John Belushi, who had a scowl on his face, the comedian said, “You should have laughed more.” He wasn’t talking directly to me, but without thinking I replied, “It should have been funnier.” Belushi looked at me and flashed me a smile.
Saturday Night Live is one of the reasons I entered college as a television and radio major. Four degrees and many years later, I am now teaching television studies to undergraduates who are pursuing careers in television and film. As I grow older and the generation gap between my students and me widens, it has become increasingly more difficult to explain why Saturday Night Live was considered groundbreaking when it debuted on October 11, 1975. I imagine it’s like Woodstock. The people I’ve met who were there (and can actually remember being there) say you had to have been at Woodstock and experienced it for yourself to fully understand why it was a milestone in our cultural history.
Saturday Night Live’s contribution to American culture and, more specifically, American comedy, is immeasurable. I never imagined back when I was a teenager sitting in Studio 8H that thirty-eight years later I would not only still be watching SNL but writing a book about the show. For this opportunity, I am truly grateful.
Stephen Tropiano
Los Angeles, California
snlfaq@gmail.com
Twitter: @StephenTrop