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Saturday Night Live returns from a short hiatus to find the US newly at war with Iran. From behind the presidential podium, Donald Trump (James Austin Johnson) wishes “happy world war three to all who celebrate.” After claiming that “Iran has been two weeks away from developing a nuclear weapon [for, like, the last 15 years]”, he weaves into the Temptations’ War: “What is it good for? Distracting from the Epstein files!”
As to why the US should attack now, Trump explains: “We had to strike in the early hours of Saturday, which has two advantages militarily. One, it’s after the stock market closes for the weekend. And two, it’s to cause immeasurable fear, rage and chaos in the SNL writers’ room.”
He turns the mic over to “the man who I’m going to blame it on when it doesn’t work”, defense secretary Pete Hegseth (Colin Jost). Hegseth storms the podium, slamming a nonalcoholic Four Loko and demanding everyone “shut it”, before admitting: “I am scared and I don’t know what I’m doing!”
Johnson and Jost continue to shine in their roles, but that’s about all this cold open has to offer. The abruptness of it is understandable given the last-minute rewrites, but it still felt lacking in the face of the day’s events. On the other hand, at least we were spared any forced solemnity from the cast or host.
Speaking of, actor Connor Storrie makes his SNL debut in the latter role. The star of the gay romance megahit Heated Rivalry takes the tried, true and trite route of some many monologuing hunks before him: he reminisces over growing up wanting to be an actor: “My mom would drive me hours to audition … she even drove me to this weird mall where they did this national kids talent contest, which I won hands-down in every category by doing a catwalk to It’s Raining Men with other children.”
On Heated Rivalry, Storrie plays Russian hockey player Ilya Rozanov. Given that both American hockey teams just won gold at the Winter Olympics in Milan, it’s no surprise when Storie is joined on stage by Quinn and Jack Hughes from the men’s team and Megan Keller and Hilary Knight from the women’s team.
Knight gets in a dull dig at Trump, who joked during a call with the men’s squad that he’d also have to invite their female peers to the White House, lest he be impeached, by quipping: “It was gonna be just us, but we thought we’d invite the guys too.”
This all comes off as smugly hypocritical, given that Storrie, Keller, Knight and their stans in the audience have zero issue laughing it up with the Hughes brothers, who spent the last week partying with Kash Patel and basking in Trump’s praise at the State of the Union address. Given the US’s unprovoked attack on Iran, this whole show of national pride leaves a foul stench.
The first sketch sees Marcello Hernández play a fey high school teacher with a thick Latin accent. That’s the long and short of it – there’s no setup, let alone payoff here, just several interminable minutes of mugging from all involved. Hernández at his worst is nothing more than a silly accent generator, this being a prime example.
In Victorian-era London, the rivalry between two croquet players (Storrie and Mikey Day) quickly spirals out of control. What starts off as a foppish slap fight to the constant refrain of “How dare you?” turns into an all-out brawl when first they, then their compatriots, try to slap Kenan Thompson’s gentleman, who promptly kicks all their asses. By the end, several onlookers – including small children and dogs – get in on the fisticuffs. Fun but forgettable.
A young couple’s (Tommy Brennan and Veronika Slowikowska) one-year anniversary at the rink outside of 30 Rockefeller Plaza turns from happy to heartbreaking when the man’s marriage proposal is shot down. To make matters worse, the very serious conversation that follows is continually interrupted by a trio of fortysomething men ice skating behind them, who are loudly having the “best time … like, genuine, pure fun”. The carefree dudes are eventually joined by a fourth member, played by Heated Rivalry’s other lead, Hudson Williams. Like the Olympic hockey players earlier, Williams’s cameo was a foregone conclusion, but it stops the sketch’s momentum dead, as everything pauses for what seems an eternity so that the audience can squeal in excitement.
Then, Storrie plays a teen jock being tutored by the school nerd, Dirkus (Ben Marshall). Regretting having bullied him in the past, he invites Dirkus to join him and the other cool kids during lunch the next day, only to immediately retract the offer after Dirkus wheels out an electronic keyboard and performs an embarrassing friendship song. The joke repeats itself twice over after Dirkus’s parents show up. It’s no funnier the second or third time.
Storrie and Williams introduce the night’s musical guests, Mumford & Sons, who are joined on stage by fellow faux folk star Hozier.
On Weekend Update, Jost mentions the confirmed killing of Iran’s supreme leader, Ayatollah Khamenei. He admits to not knowing enough about the current situation to make a judgment call, instead turning it over to Trump himself, via a video he shot in 2011 about Obama: “Our president will start a war with Iran because he has absolutely no ability to negotiate. He’s weak and he’s ineffective.” Michael Che, meanwhile, counters detractors’ claims that Trump had no authorization to attack Iran by noting: “Netanyahu said it was OK.”
To run down the week’s other headlines, Jost welcomes on excitable maid of honor, Katie (Slowikowska), who is “not here to talk about Beth, her Scrabble addiction, her dog Skittles, or her best friend turned husband, Cody … I’m here to talk about the wave of narco-terrorism caused by the Mexican cartel.” She then proceeds to break down the ongoing carnage in Mexico, as well as the latest on the Epstein files and the continuing war in Ukraine in bubbly bridesmaid-speak. It’s a clever idea and a character Slowikowska can hone in future appearances.
This last week saw a new animal go viral by way of Punch, the baby monkey whose mother abandoned him. Here to give her side of the story is Punch’s mom, played by resident animal actor Sarah Sherman. The trashy, trampy, deadbeat monkey mom berates the antagonistic audiences like she’s a guest on Maury (“You don’t know me!”), aggressively hits on Jost, and brags about her famous simian body count (“Let’s just say I was Harambe’s last meal”). Another strong update performance from Sherman at her wacko best.
At a cabin getaway, a group of friends catch up with one another. One of the members, Griff, recently returned from a long European vacation, which he claims he took on a whim, spending one day in Spain, one day in Italy and two months in Turkey. The real reason for his trip becomes clear when he stands up to reveal stilt-like legs, the obvious result of Turkish cosmetic surgery. Later, it’s revealed that one of the other members got leg shortening surgery to donate his bones to his friend. The initial sights gags are good for a guffaw, but the rest of the sketch is painfully clunky.
Then, a group of office workers hold a meeting to raise company morale following a round of layoffs. After a couple of reasonable suggestions (more vacation days, a new TV for the break room), Storrie’s employee suggests a big dance: “The boys in tuxedos, the girls in gowns. A night to remember.” He dreamily paints a picture of a magical and romantic night to his enraptured co-workers – including the office cheater, nerd and alcoholic – before Mumford & Sons shows up to provide the music. They perform a rendition of the Righteous Brothers’ Unchained Melody.
Mumford & Sons stays front and center for their second official performance of the night, this time featuring guest turns from Sierra Ferrell and the National’s Aaron Dessner.
The episode concludes with a sketch set at a bachelorette party. The women are excited for the male stripper they ordered, only for Storrie’s exotic dancer to show up fresh off being hit by a bus. Bruised, bloodied and hobbled, he gamely attempts to carry on with the show, dragging his half-naked body across the floor before straddling one of the women while she ties a tourniquet around a giant gash in his thigh. It’s a game performance from Storrie, who shows a real penchant for physical comedy. It’s just too bad that the live audience is too busy hooting and hollering to let any the jokes breathe.
While not the worst episode of the season, this might have been the least focused, with all the live sketches feeling especially scattershot. That’s understandable for the cold open, which had to be rewritten at the last moment, but that doesn’t excuse the rest of it.
