If you entered NBC’s headquarters on October 11th, 1975, you would have seen chaos.
In the corner of the room, there would have been people frantically trying to extinguish a blazing sofa. Someone would be yelling about the malfunctioning lights while people carefully read over their lines, open powder and rouge strewn across the tables. NBC, they are told, could air a movie if they think this show will go as poorly as rehearsal did.
Their worry is hushed but steeped into the seams of the chaos. Can they really pull this off?
At 11:30 P.M., stressed, stretched thin, and strangely excited, they still don’t know. And yet, Saturday Night begins.
In 1974, NBC faced a daunting problem – Johnny Carson of the popular late-night show, The Tonight Show, had petitioned for his weekend shows to air on weekdays, allowing him to take some days off. This left NBC with a gaping hole on the weekends that they knew needed to be filled. NBC president Herbert Schlosser asked the vice president of late-night programming, Dick Erebsol, to find someone to helm the Saturday night time slot, and fast.
Near the same time, a 29-year-old Canadian writer named Lorne Micheals put forth his vision for a show unlike anything on TV at the time. This show, Micheals proposed, would be, “a comedy show, frank and intelligent, for young, urban adults.” He explained his vision for a live show in a 1979 interview with Rolling Stone. Micheals noted, “I believed the show should look, for the first few times, as if the network had closed down for the night, and these guys snuck into the studio. I wanted the show always to be perceived as an underdog.”
Erebsol was intrigued but wary. There hadn’t been a live show aired on NBC for the last ten years; would the risks of such a bold idea be worth it? Ultimately, though, he gave Micheals the go-ahead, and SNL was born.
When the idea behind the show began to stretch its roots, there was already a show on air called Saturday Night Live – Saturday Night Live with Howard Cosell – on their rival network, ABC. Thus, it was dubbed Saturday Night until Cosell’s show ended in 1976. NBC gave Michaels Studio 8H to launch his show, and by October, a ragtag team of writers and performers were assembled, dubbed the “Not Ready for Prime-Time Players.” This list included many later comedy legends, such as Dan Aykroyd, John Belushi, Chevy Chase, Jane Curtin, Garrett Morris, Laraine Newman, Gilda Radner, and George Coe.
Despite the seemingly never-ending mishaps on opening night, Saturday Night debuted with comedian George Carlin as the host. Although it would later become a comedy juggernaut, critics initially held mixed feelings about the show. The New York Times critic John J. O’Connor reviewed the second episode, famously bemoaning, “Even an offbeat showcase needs quality, an ingredient conspicuously absent from the dreadfully uneven comedy efforts of the new series.” Behind the scenes, it was no better; the cast was paid $750 an episode, about $4,400 today, and practically lived in their offices. The murmurs behind the scenes only grew louder and doubt about the show grew.
Surprisingly, that changed in the fourth episode, hosted by actress Candice Bergen. The show finally found its footing through its disorganized format and unpredictability, and slowly, the world began to change their attitude about this new show. O’Connor even amended his initial comments, saying the show had become “the most creative and encouraging thing to happen in American T.V. comedy since Your Show of Shows.” People were listening to the show, too: cast member Chevy Chase’s impression of Gerald Ford during the 1976 election was later cited as a factor in Ford losing the presidential race. Saturday Night Live was everything live T.V. wasn’t at the time: irreverent, fresh, and daring, regardless of how shocking their subjects were. It was no surprise that young people were drawn to it, and soon, the show gained a cult following. SNL proved that, when wielded right, comedy could create something powerful.
So on the outside, as the first few years began to burn by, it seemed like nothing could stop its rise. But backstage told a very different story. Micheals struggled with running a tight ship, and eventually, people began to depart. Chevy Chase left the show soon after the first season for a successful Hollywood career. After the 1979 season, Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi left SNL, setting off a chain reaction of departures amongst the original cast and crew. In an interview with Rolling Stone that same year, Micheals reflected on the pressure the expectations on the show wrought. He said, “The cost in human lives is great. No one can withstand the pressure. The odd part is that you can see everybody else going under; you never see yourself going under. If I paused longer than a day and thought about the toll it takes, I probably would never do it again. I don’t think any of us would.”
Now, Lorne Micheals was forced to pause and reckon with his time running the hectic show, and ask himself the question: did he want to keep doing this?
On the precipice of 1980, just five years after SNL debuted, an exhausted Micheals decided that it was time for him to leave. By the new decade, nearly all of the original cast and writers had left.

In Micheals’ stead, NBC decided to give the show to producer Jean Doumanian, setting off an infamous period in SNL’s history. Doumanian’s newly assembled cast and crew, in sharp contrast to those before them, were widely disdained – they were simply unfunny, with jokes that consistently fell flat. The New York Times published an article at the time, aptly questioning: ‘Whatever Happened to TV’s Saturday Night Live’? Ratings plummeted, and in a February 1981 episode, cast member Charles Rocket uttered a profanity on air. This created a scandal, which served as the final nail in the coffin for Doumanian’s 10-month-run as producer. NBC debated between canceling the show entirely, or passing on the helm to another. In the end, the studio decided to give SNL one more chance. Dick Erbosol, the former vice president of late-night programming, was then given the job. Erbosol disliked the bolder comedy SNL had formerly been synonymous with, particularly its political satire, leading to a more toned-down show that alienated many of the long-time fans of the show.
But if there was one thing Erbosol’s tenure of the show created, it was Eddie Murphy. Just like Chevy Chase was one of the breakout stars under Micheals, Murphy was Erbosol’s. The comedian’s charisma and subsequent success was a major factor in the show’s resurgence, though it did nothing to allay the growing tension between cast members.
Eventually, the tension burst. Most of the cast, including Murphy, left in the 1983-1984 season. This left a void in Erbosol’s SNL that he quickly tried to fill — even if this meant a break from tradition. He hired two well known comedians instead of largely unknown names: Billy Crystal and Martin Short for the 1984-1985 season. Though this season is widely remembered as one of the series’ funniest, Short and Crystal required pay that sharply drove up production costs. The combination of the rapidly-leaving cast and the rapidly-rising costs led Erbosol to request the show go on hiatus to rebuild.
NBC rejected his request. They, once again, had the option to either cancel the show entirely, or reach out to the only person they felt could save it.
In 1985, Lorne Micheals returned as the producer for SNL. In the five years after his departure, he had struggled with unsuccessful forays into television and money. So when the opportunity arose to return, he took it. But this new tenure, he promised, would be completely unlike the show of the past.
Micheals borrowed Ebersol’s idea to seek established actors, but also looked for younger, relatively unknown ones as well, including Robert Downey Jr. and Joan Cusack. The new decade meant a new generation, he reasoned, so the show should reflect them.
But that decision quickly proved disastrous. Writers struggled to adapt to the quickly-assembled cast, which meant the quality sharply declined. The first episode of the 1985-1986 season received blistering criticism for its tasteless humor, with some sketches poking fun of Marilyn Monroe’s death and the AIDS crisis. Michael O’Donoghue, one of SNL’s original writers, notably said, “I think the show is an embarrassment. It’s like watching old men die. It’s sad, sluggish, old, witless and very disturbing. It lacks intelligence and it lacks heart, and if I were grading it I’d have to give it an F.”
As the season dragged on, the ratings remained precipitously low. The season still lives in infamy to this date as one of SNL’s worst, and almost killed the show. In April 1986, NBC made the decision to cancel SNL, until they were convinced by producer Bernie Brillstein to give it just one more year to prove itself.
And so, Micheals got to work.
Most of the cast was fired, and Micheals scrapped the idea of having known actors on SNL. Instead, he sought out unknown talent like Dana Carvey, Phil Hartman, Jan Hooks, Kevin Nealon, and later, Mike Myers. For the first time in its history, the show only aired 13 episodes instead of its usual 22.
Dana Carvey quickly proved to be a formidable casting choice. Micheals decided to reintroduce political satire to the show, and Carvey’s impression of George W. Bush is widely considered one of the best presidential impressions of the show’s history. Together with the remainder of the talented cast, the 1980s came to a close with SNL as popular as ever.

As the 1990s began, the older cast began to leave, and younger performers like Adam Sandler and Chris Farley became series regulars. To avoid cast members leaving a void in the show for film careers, Micheals had stacked the cast to its brink, which meant humor became less reliant on its subtlety. Their bolder, “frat boy” style of humor that was more overt than previous SNL sketches, titled this “The Bad Boy” Era.
The show’s impact on pop culture had always been felt beforehand, but it was especially evident in the 90s. Dana Carvey and Mike Myers’ sketch Wayne’s World inspired SNL to create a movie in February 1982, which is still the only SNL film to gross over $100 million at the box office. The film’s success meant more people tuned in — more people that watched in October 1982 as singer and musical guest Sinéad O’Connor performed. During her live streamed performance, O’Connor tore a picture of the pope, John Paul II, apart as she sang, and said, “Fight the real enemy!” O’Connor later said her protest was done because of, “not the man, obviously – it’s the office and the symbol of the organization that he represents. I consider them to be responsible for the destruction of entire races of people and the subsequent existence of domestic and child abuse in every country they went into.”
The event caused an uproar against both O’Connor and SNL. NBC banned O’Connor for life afterwards, and the show received thousands of phone calls, as well as protests outside of Studio 8H. The chaos outside only reflected the turmoil inside the studio itself; between 1992 to 1994, the show lost three of its biggest stars: Carvey, Phil Hartman, and Chris Rock. They each left for separate reasons, but Rock denounced the stereotypical Black roles he would be pigeonholed into, while Hartman later criticised the writing that made him feel as though he was performing “on the Titanic.”
All the while, NBC executives began to close in on SNL, particularly because of the costly nature of the show. They recommended the younger, “bad boy” cast members like Sandler and Farley be fired, and encouraged scathing articles criticizing the show to weaken Micheals’ position.
The tension, once more, broke through the surface in a disastrous 1994-1995 season. The season was later denounced for its lack of diversity and homophobic sketches at the time and was again on the brink of cancellation.
Micheals had survived this before, though, and immediately did what he did before: overhaul. Almost all of the previous cast and crew were fired, and a number of new performers were introduced.
This tactic worked. Ratings crawled up once more, and as the 1990s passed, SNL proved unstoppable. More women began to join the cast and crew, and in 1999, Tina Fey made SNL history by becoming the first female head writer. She joined Jimmy Fallon to run the show’s Weekend Update segment, adding a more light spin on the segment that is still echoed to this date.
With the new millennium, SNL began to shift to fill in the digital age. The Lonely Island, a trio that consisted of cast members Andy Samberg, Akiva Schaffer, and Jorma Taccone, created their own short films that they uploaded to the SNL YouTube account. Their sketches were some of the first viral YouTube videos ever, proving that the show could evolve beyond live television. And over the past few years, they have.
SNL has quickly accumulated over 15 million subscribers on YouTube, usually drawing over 3 million viewers per episode, cementing its legacy as one of the most-watched entertainment shows of all time. Though The Lonely Island officially retired in 2012, the show has continued to do what it does best: evolve. If you were to turn on SNL today, you would see Please Don’t Destroy, a new trio that has recently taken over the digital short moniker. And even without turning on the television, you may see clips from current Weekend Update hosts Micheal Che and Colin Jost’s (in)famous joke swap. Fifty years and 109 awards after its first premiere, Saturday Night Live’s undeniable impact can still be felt.
In Lorne Micheals’ 1979 interview with Rolling Stone, he reflected on his time running SNL. He said, “I feel this loyalty; it’s hard to describe. Loving the show is like loving humanity and yet not liking people. There’s this thing called the Saturday Night Live show that is greater than any of the stars on it or greater than any of the writers or the network that it’s on, in the sense that it must have its own integrity.”
Forty-six years afterward, he is still at the helm. Perhaps he still knows the secret to what every one of us can only observe: how, despite the endless threats of cancelation, upheaval, and sharp tension, America will still turn on their television late Saturday night and watch SNL.
Whatever the secret may be, one thing is certain. Every other Saturday night, the lights will still dim in Studio 8H. People will still shout, even if there is no burning sofa. And every time, six words will ring out, officially kickstarting the evening:
“Live from New York, it’s Saturday Night!”
In Lorne Micheals’ 1979 interview with Rolling Stone, he reflected on his time running SNL. He said, “I feel this loyalty; it’s hard to describe. Loving the show is like loving humanity and yet not liking people. There’s this thing called the Saturday Night Live show that is greater than any of the stars on it or greater than any of the writers or the network that it’s on, in the sense that it must have its own integrity.”