📺 SNL: The Snickers Bar of Saturday Night | 50
When Johnny Carson, 1970s late-night king, declared he wanted another day off, it left NBC with a hole in their weekend lineup. 11:30pm Saturday night wasn’t exactly the hot time slot… so the network recruited a quiet Canadian comedy writer named Lorne Michaels to produce a live variety show on the cheap. NBC figured, this thing might not get ratings, but it should be affordable and easy to produce. What could go wrong?
Turns out, a LOT. Cost overruns. Clashing egos. A studio that hadn’t been used since the 50s. And yeah, some drugs along the way. The show that eventually became Saturday Night Live has actually never been cheap OR easy to make. But it also made TV history. SNL is kingmaker, cash cow, and comedy accelerator program. (Without SNL, there’s no Shrek, no Mean Girls, and definitely no 30 Rock.) Find out how this 50+ year old network program became an unofficial cofounder of Youtube; why Lorne defines success as a Snickers bar, and why Saturday Night Live is the best idea yet.
Be the first to know about Wondery’s newest podcasts, curated recommendations, and more! Sign up now at https://wondery.fm/wonderynewsletter
Follow The Best Idea Yet on the Wondery App or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to new episodes early and ad-free on Wondery+. Join Wondery+ in the Wondery App, Apple Podcasts or Spotify. Start your free trial by visiting www.wondery.com/links/the-best-idea-yet/ now.
See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
Listen and follow along
Transcript
Wondery Plus subscribers can listen to the best idea yet early and ad-free right now.
Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts.
Jack, do you know what the official timing is for prime time?
I think it's 9 to 10 Eastern time.
7 to 10 weekdays, 8 to 11 weekends.
But after that, do you know what they call the time after prime time?
Late night?
And then they call it slime time.
Love that.
It's pajama programming.
Viewership drops like 50% after 11 p.m.
I remember the first time I was allowed to watch TV after 11.
It was actually Y2K.
I was 12 years old waiting to see if the world fell apart.
Yeah, we were on the edge of our seat, like wondering what the hell was about to happen.
And I got to watch the ball drop in Times Square.
It was very exciting being able to watch late.
But Jack, that's what's so funny about that slime time
slot is that it's the most unwanted of time slots on TV.
And yet there's one program that is the most culturally relevant entertainment show in our country and it occupies that moment.
Live from New York, it's Saturday night!
It's Saturday Night Live, the classic late night sketch comedy show on NBC.
And the reason we all know Chevy Chase as a person, not just a suburb of DC.
With 1,000 episodes, it's one of the longest running shows in TV history.
And one key feature is the constantly changing cast.
Except for Keenan Thompson.
Good point, Jack.
SNL has employed over 160 different cast members and counting.
SNL brought to life hundreds of unforgettable characters.
The Blues brothers got the band back together on SNL, and Domingo broke up a wedding twice.
SNL didn't just create iconic characters and sketches.
It launched dozens of wildly successful careers.
Your favorite comedy movie?
There's a good chance chance it stars a former SNL cast member, from Eddie Murphy and Adam Sandler to Amy Poehler and Tina Fay.
We would argue that SNL is the greatest platform for launching talent in the history of entertainment.
But Jack, for all the iconic names associated with this show, there is one name that looms above all the others, the Canadian king of SNL himself.
We're talking about the show's executive producer and chief architect, Lauren Michaels.
Tonight, we will share with you the incredible story of how Lauren Michaels developed one of Late Night's most enduring sources of laughs from the Coneheads to the Californians.
And we'll look at how that has translated into pure profit power for NBC.
Not just in the 80 million bucks a year in ad revenue, but in all the spin-off shows and films created by SNL alums, many produced by Lauren himself.
But like in every great comedy sketch, Nick, there's a complicating twist here because SNL almost fell apart before it even reached full orbit.
Not just once, but twice.
We'll hear why inefficiency can really be efficient and how the key to success can be found inside a Snickers bar.
Plus, we'll walk you through how SNL puts together a show in only six days, just in time for Saturday night.
And how SNL put YouTube on the map.
We've got a great show for you tonight.
Sabrina Carpenter is here.
So stick around.
We got Sabrina Carpenter on the show?
No, I'm just saying that's what they say.
You know, like, but Sabrina, hey, you're welcome to come on this show anytime.
Just bring more cowbell.
Here is why Saturday Night Live is the best idea yet
from Wondery and T-Boy.
I'm Nick Martel, and I'm Jack Kravici Kramer.
And this is the best idea yet.
The untold origin stories of the products you're obsessed with and the bold risk takers who made them go viral.
I got that feeling again.
Something familiar for you.
We got it coming to you.
I got that feeling again.
They changed the game in one move.
Here's how they hook up.
Looking for an electric SUV that doesn't compromise on space?
Meet the all-new 2026 Ionic 9, Hyundai's first three-row all-electric EV.
Space in an EV.
Finally, with an impressive 335-mile range, this isn't your typical EV.
Go further with up to an estimated 150 miles of charge in just 15 minutes on the Ionic RWD-9S when using a 350-kilowatt DC ultra-fast charger and CCS adapter.
Actual charge time may vary.
Plus, with glass-leading interior space, seven high-powered USB-C ports, and advanced features like highway driving assist 2, every journey is seamless.
And, for peace of mind, there's a 10-year 100,000-mile battery warranty.
Ready to explore more?
Learn more about the Ionic 9 at HyundaiUSA.com.
Call 562-314-4603 for complete details.
What can 160 years of experience teach you about the future?
A lot, especially when it comes to protecting what matters.
At Pacific Life, we've helped people and businesses confidently embrace the future with life insurance, retirement income, and employee benefits, with strategies built on strength and trust, and a promise to be here for you today and tomorrow.
Ask a financial professional how Pacific Life can help you you today.
Pacific Life Insurance Company, Omaha, Nebraska, and in New York, Pacific Life and Annuity, Phoenix, Arizona.
In lovely Los Angeles, the most important meetings happen at breakfast.
Clean white tablecloths, coffee, and silver crafts next to plates of fresh fruit and overpriced eggs, Benedict.
It's 8 a.m.
We're at the polo lounge of the historic Beverly Hills Hotel, early 1975.
Three NBC executives are sitting across from a slightly rumpled, rumpled 30-year-old Canadian, writer-producer, Lauren Michaels.
Lauren should be thrilled, sitting at a power breakfast with network brass, but he's having trouble soaking it all in.
Because for Lauren Michaels, 8 a.m.
is way, way too early.
Lauren's a lifelong night owl here.
He's an eggs at noon, dinner at 10 p.m.
kind of a guy.
So he narrows his eyes at the man across from him, a sandy-haired, 27-year-old executive named Dick Ebersol.
Now as NBC's new head of weekend late night programming, Dick has one job right now, close a gap in NBC's late night lineup.
You see Saturday nights at 1130 p.m.
used to be for reruns of Johnny Carson's Tonight Show.
But Johnny wants more time off to play golf, so his reruns are moving to a weekday.
So for the past five months, Dick has been searching for comedy producers to create a live variety show to fill the time slot.
Live variety shows can be a real cost saver in the TV business because you shoot it once and you're done.
There's no retakes, no post-production, and often not much of a script either.
Just some jokey monologues in between musical numbers.
Dick needs a showrunner though for this new live variety show and this is exactly what has led him to Lauren.
Born Lauren Lipowitz of Toronto, Lauren's resume includes writing for the variety show Laugh In, which helped launch the careers of Lily Tomlin and Goldie Hahn.
And he even had his own variety show back up in Canada called The Heart and Lauren Terrific Hour.
And now it's time once again to talk to our old friend, the Canadian Beaver.
How you feeling beaver?
Oh, pretty chipper, pretty chipper.
But Lauren's greatest talent isn't performing, it's vision.
And he has a revolutionary idea for what comedy on television might look like.
At the time, network television is mostly playing it safe with their late-night programming.
The biggest comedy variety acts are getting kind of old.
But Lauren, on the other hand, he thinks sketch comedy on TV actually has a chance to speak the language of young people.
It can be subversive, sharp, and silly.
And it can reflect the vibrant underground comedy scene of the time.
The 70s was all about sketch troops like the Groundlings in LA and Second City in Chicago and Toronto.
This is exactly what Lauren is pitching to the NBC brass at that meeting.
A sketch comedy show with a sense of danger.
But what he's painting is really a grand vision.
Here's what Lauren says.
We're going to make TV for young people, the generation that's grown up on TV.
Now, interestingly, Lauren's pitch doesn't get specific.
There are a lot of details to still figure out down the road.
And NBC hasn't given him the green light yet.
For 10 days, Dick and Lauren hole up at the Chateau Marmont Hotel to work out a format for their variety show.
Lauren describes this as a cross between Monty Python and 60 Minutes.
It'll have a core group of cast members, a house band, visiting musical acts, and a guest host that varies every week.
The rotating guest host will add legitimacy and novelty to the show.
Novelty because the host changes every week.
If you didn't like last week's show, hey, stick around for what this week's host is going to do.
And adds legitimacy because the guest host will be famous, which allows the repertory players to be actors nobody's ever heard of.
Now, this no-name cast of players is what Lorne considers his secret weapon.
Unburdened by the network's opinion of who's hot, he can just trust his own comedic gut and focus on finding the funniest newcomers in comedy.
So, as spring turns to summer of 1975, Lauren pours through both live and taped auditions.
And the way the cast develops is like a game of network and telephone pre-LinkedIn.
All right, Jack, you know who the first comic Lauren considers is?
Who is it?
It's Chevy Chase.
But here's the deal: they don't cast him right away.
Instead, Chevy Chase gets a job as a writer until, as legend has it, Lorne runs into Chevy on the street a few weeks later.
They start talking, and as Chevy leaves, he immediately trips and tumbles, head over heels, right into a puddle, full somersault.
Then he stands up, brushes himself off like nothing happened, and Lorne cracks up.
It's a gag.
Totally jacked.
And you know what?
It works.
Just like that, Chevy is in the cast.
But the first person Lauren actually casts on SNL is the delightful Gilda Radner.
More violins on television.
It's terrible the way they work.
Mr.
Tellant, that was violence on television, not violins.
Oh,
that's different.
Yes.
Never mind.
Gilda is playful, she's sweet, with a face that can't help scrunching up in a smile.
She grew up in Detroit, but she started her career in Canada.
So she is part of a comedy circle that Lauren trusts from north of the border.
And it's Gilda who persuades Lauren to take a chance on a wild, unconventional writer and performer who has started to build a name for himself.
John Belushi.
Basically, everyone in Lauren's orbit either knows or has worked with John, and they all say he's a genius.
But Lauren isn't so sure.
Basically, John is a sketch guy, a comics comic, if you will.
He thinks TV is a cheap form of comedy.
But after a while, even John starts feeling a little bit of FOMO, especially because his friends are getting hired.
Kilda, Chevy, Dan Aykroyd.
John starts to worry, maybe he does actually want to be on TV.
The show is going to be different from anything else on television.
So they work it out.
Belushi gets hired.
And Lorne moves on to the next big task.
Making the dang show.
The next few months are a whirlwind of meetings, deal memos, and fights.
Not actual fist fights.
Well, not yet, Jack.
But fights between Lauren and the network.
Because Lauren has been asking for a lot, including a $300,000 renovation of the studio NBC has designated for the project, Studio 8H.
Studio 8H was built as a radio studio in the 1930s and used to broadcast live performances of NBC's Symphony Orchestra.
But after the 1950s, the studio fell out of use.
So by the time Lauren gets a look at it, it's kind of a dump.
It's small, the equipment's old, the speakers sound like the one at a McDonald's.
Drive-through.
So Lauren has to remind NBC that he's planning to book some big-name musical guests.
We need this renovation, Lauren insists.
A $300,000 renovation, by the way, is like $1.8 million today.
And keep in mind that Lauren is not even an official NBC employee.
Technically, he's a contractor and he's making all these expensive demands.
But Lauren does have one major piece of leverage with NBC.
Lauren handpicked the talent.
He set the vision.
He's embedded in every aspect and detail of the production.
And despite how it feels to Lauren sometimes, NBC is genuinely invested in the show's success.
Because surprise, NBC, America's number two network, has got competition from the third place network, ABC.
Their longtime sports broadcaster, Howard Cassell, is trying his hand at comedy these days.
You know, this guy.
61, Curly Cult.
These Kansas City Chiefs, 81 doesn't look real shop either.
We are less than a month before Lauren's show is going to debut on NBC.
Meanwhile, Howard debuts a live primetime comedy hour on ABC called
Saturday Night Live.
This is insane.
Before SNL launched, there was another show called Saturday Night Live.
There was.
And honestly, the ABC version seems like the horse to bet on at the time.
First, it's in a prime time slot, 9 p.m., so it's expected to get much better ratings than the 11.30 p.m.
Slime Time slot.
And second, they've got major star power booked as guests, like Frank Sinatra, Siegfried and Roy, and the Broadway cast of The Wiz.
So basically, Besties, if you were a venture capitalist, yeah, this is the startup you'd be writing the check to, ABC's Saturday Night Live.
And Kosell's repertory cast is known as the Primetime Players.
Feeling snarky, someone in Lauren's shop calls their cast the not ready for primetime players.
And because the name SNL is already taken, Lauren calls his show NBC's Saturday Night, NBCSN.
That sounds like a channel to watch minor league baseball games.
But with the two networks locked in a sketch comedy arms race, NBC doesn't have much of a a choice.
Eventually, whatever Lauren wants, Lauren gets.
Those studio renovations, they happen.
The set and costume budgets?
You get them.
By the time Lauren and his crew get to their Friday run-through, one day before the premiere, NBC's Saturday night is over budget by $50,000 per episode.
Yeti's, the Friday run-through is a total...
Disaster.
The stage isn't done, meaning there are literally piles of bricks in the corner still waiting waiting to be laid.
Also, the performers' egos are clashing.
Belushi hasn't signed his contract yet.
And oh, Nick, the reason those Hollywood types kept on booking those LA hotels?
The drugs.
That's why.
See, that's another issue Lauren's got to deal with.
A nagging feeling starts creeping up on the cast and the crew in Studio 8H.
What if this crazy, hugely expensive show just doesn't work?
But there's one person who has zero doubt.
Or at least that's what he'll tell you.
No one will truly know whether there's fear in his heart, but Lauren Michaels knows this much.
The show will go on.
Even if Lauren has to personally will it into existence.
The best idea yet is sponsored by Lenovo.
Yetis, we've all heard how AI is changing the world.
But with Lenovo AI PCs, you're in control.
These aren't just laptops.
They're creative partners that amplify what makes you unique.
Your Lenovo AI PC learns your workflow, intelligently organizing your million open tabs and anticipating which apps you'll need next.
It's like having a digital assistant that knows exactly how you think.
Or Jack, it's like your second brain, always ready to assist.
This AI PC learns from your creative style and past projects, offering fresh perspectives and possibilities that build on your own ideas.
Together, you'll push creative boundaries further than ever.
And with smart power management, You'll never waste time hunting for outlets during marathon brainstorming sessions.
It learns when you need that extra boost and delivers power right when creativity strikes.
This technology fine-tunes itself to your preferences, supercharging your creative process without taking over.
You're still the artist.
Your Lenovo AI PC just helps you bring those ideas to life.
Lenovo AIPCs with the Intel Core Ultra Processor.
That's the power of Intel Inside.
Learn more at lenovo.com slash AI4U.
Church's Smokehouse Chicken is back and the block already knows what's up.
The new Smokehouse rub hits every piece of that juicy half chicken with bold smoky flavor that goes straight to the bone.
Nobody else does it like churches.
Our recipe served up just for you.
Get it an original or bring the heat with a spicy rub.
Dial it up Texas style with a honey butter biscuit and a spicy jalapeno pepper on the side.
The new dry rub has everybody talking.
Lose yourself in the flavor of Smokehouse Chicken starting at $5.99.
Order online or in store, only at churches.
Price and participation may vary tax extra US only.
Saturday night, October 11th, 1975.
Studio 8H is so packed, you're Schwitzen in your seats.
Rows of audience members on three sides extend from the floor to the ceiling.
Two armchairs sit on stage.
One is empty, the other occupied by a man in a brown suit reading the newspaper a second man played by John Belushi waddles on in and then he sits down in the second armchair a language lesson begins repeat after me
I would like I would like to feed your fingertips to feed your fingertips to the Wolverines to the Wolverines
Now this is called a cold open a scene that starts with absolutely no context You just have to jump right in and today the cold open is part of basic storytelling structure.
Actually, we have a cold open on our show every week.
Like that's how we open with, you know, a little bit of improv right there.
But Lauren Michaels is the first to call it a cold open.
The entire Wolverine sketch is less than two minutes long, and it ends when the language teacher has a massive heart attack.
He clutches his chest as he tumbles to the floor.
So his student, Bolushi, thinks it's part of the lesson and he clutches his chest and falls down on the floor next to him.
And then Chevy Chase comes on stage.
And he looks at the two men and then flashes a thousand watt smile and says these magic words.
Live from New York, it's Saturday night.
There we go.
We got a catchphrase.
The first episode of Saturday Night Live.
I'm sorry, NBC's Saturday night is up and running.
George Carlin is the first ever host, which has the network kind of sweating.
You see, they're afraid he's going to say one of those seven words he can't say on television.
Although in the end, shockingly, he behaves himself.
During the show, Carlin performs three comedic monologues, but zero sketches.
Compared to the SNL of today, the show feels kind of overstuffed.
Two different musical guests perform two songs apiece.
Then there's a second comedian, a couple of pre-taped shorts, and a sketch featuring brand new Muppets designed by none other than Jim Henson himself.
It was a do-less situation, Jack.
You see, at this early stage, SNL is over-indexing on the whole variety angle.
But if the show seems as crowded as a circus, that's because this entire show is a high-wire act.
Remember, this baby is alive.
Sets go up and come down in mere minutes during the opening credits and the commercial breaks.
When you're watching at home, it's easy to forget that most other shows on television aren't live.
They're pre-recorded.
Even sitcoms that perform live in front of a studio audience get to pause for lighting setups and costume changes.
And if someone flubs a line, they just retake the shoot.
Not on Saturday night.
You just have to keep on moving.
And afterwards, everyone, including Lauren Michaels, breathes a huge
sigh of relief.
When the reviews come in, the press reaction is marvelous.
Or at least it's pretty good.
The reviews say that while the show is uneven, they applaud NBC for trying something different.
Okay, so maybe that whole Muppets for Grown-Ups bit didn't really work.
With the show, it is daring, it is exciting, and it is young.
Exactly what Lauren had been going for all along.
Remember his vision for the generation that grew up on TV?
That's what this is.
By week four, Lauren and his team have hammered out a show formula that is still in place today.
One host, one live musical guest, a couple pre-tape segments like fake commercials or music performances, and the rest, live sketches, where the host mixes it up with the repertory cast.
Lauren develops a weekly methodology.
This too is the same process that they use today and it's related to a candy bar.
More on that in a bit.
Okay, so what does this process actually look like?
Jack, I'm so glad you asked.
Here is how an episode of SNL comes together just in time.
Monday kicks off with the writers meeting.
It starts at 6 p.m.
Because remember, Lauren, he's a night owl.
Everyone jams into his 17th floor office at 30 Rock with its view of the famous skating rink.
The guest host squeezes in there too, meeting the cast and the writers for the first time, sitting shoulder to shoulder as everyone pitches their sketch ideas.
And then sometime after midnight, the first round of sketch ideas are signed off on.
Tuesday is writing night.
Lauren and a few of the more famous cast members wine and dine the host at LaTanzi, an Italian restaurant in Midtown that's Lauren's personal favorite.
And while Lauren is whining and dining, the writers hunker down in their tiny offices, putting ideas to page over Midtown Chinese takeout.
Wednesday, finished sketches start materializing, and there's a table read where actors read out every script they're given.
It takes up to four hours because most of these sketches will never see the light of day.
That's right.
Only a few lucky scripts are actually greenlit.
The rest get stashed in the writer's personal vaults to be revised and tried again a little bit later.
Thursday is Build Day.
Performers block and rehearse as sets and costumes start coming together.
And Jack, these can get really elaborate.
For example, the famous Olympiad Diner sketch.
Cheese, bugot, cheese, buck out, cheese, back out, cheese, what do you cheese, what do you got cheese, what do you check, three, cheese?
Now, for that sketch, the set includes a working grill.
The actors flip actual burgers on stage.
Now, interestingly, the person in charge of producing each sketch, overseeing the props, the costumes, the lighting, the whole works, isn't Lauren.
It's the sketch writer.
See, in addition to the cast members, most of whom also write sketches, there are writers who don't appear on screen.
Before John Mulaney got famous, before he ever guest-hosted SNL, he worked on the writing staff.
Larry David was a staff writer too before he was doing Seinfeld.
So was Conan O'Brien.
These writers, they might never appear on stage, but when it's time for their sketch to rehearse, they become all powerful.
For five minutes of runtime, they transform from lowly writer to showrunner, taking the reins of their sketch.
It's actually a great business lesson that was critical for a comedy show that had to basically launch a new product each week.
Each product needs an owner, someone responsible to take it to the finish line.
The buck stops with them.
They will rise to the occasion and get more capable as they go, or they won't, and they won't be around long.
Exactly, Jack, but I'm checking the calendar here, man.
And in SNL world, get ready.
It's Friday, the day Lauren frowns at the show's lineup, which is written on index cards and tacked to his bulletin board.
And every week, Lauren says the same thing.
We have nothing.
At this moment, it feels like the show will just never come together.
What were they doing all week?
Total waste of time.
I can't believe it.
It's over.
The whole thing's finished.
And finally, Saturday, the moment of truth.
The afternoon run-through always goes too long.
Sketches get asked, which remember, have had entire sets built for them.
Props and costumes, no matter Lauren says they're out.
All right, Jack, I don't want to cut you off, but it is 8 p.m.
Man, we got dress rehearsal in front of a live audience.
A different audience than the one that watches the final show, by the way.
If you want SNL tickets, you actually have two chances, the dress rehearsal and the real deal.
Lauren watches dress from under the audience bleachers.
He hears the crowd's laughter thundering over his head.
And he notices when the laughs don't come too.
All right, now dress rehearsal.
It's still 20 minutes too long.
So we got to cut more out of the show.
And when the rehearsal ends, there are exactly 90 minutes until we air.
It is in these 90 minutes that Lorne displays his showrunner superpowers.
Having just absorbed the show and the audience's critical reactions, Lauren has a clear view of what he needs to be changed.
He adjusts the running order.
Better go tell the crew.
And he makes notes on the script.
So new cue cards, yeah, they got to be written to.
And yes, we're just 90 minutes from showtime, and Lorne cuts more sketches.
Besties, your script.
It isn't safe until the on-air on-air light flicks on at 11.30 p.m.
Eastern.
And the show at long, long last goes live.
Live from New York, it's shut.
It lives in New York.
It's Saturday night.
Live from New York, it's Saturday night.
This is the process.
It remains constant from episode number four to episode 939, 50 years later.
Lauren in conductor mode, leading the orchestra.
Intensive?
Yes.
Sustainable?
Barely.
It is a six-day-a-week job, and each season lasts about 20 episodes.
The only prescription to this marathon isn't more cowbell.
It's a six-month summer break.
But by the end of season one, everyone's hard work has paid off.
Saturday night wins get this.
Two Emmy Awards, including an Outstanding Performance Award for Chevy Chase.
Each week, SML is getting around 7 million viewers, which would be pretty good for primetime.
But this show is on just before midnight midnight on a weekend.
For their funky time slot, Slime Time, these are Super Bowl-level numbers.
It is NBC's biggest hit with its sponsors since the early 1950s.
Lauren has pulled it off.
Actually, they all have.
But something terrible is about to happen to the not ready for primetime players.
Success.
Lauren realizes something is wrong when Dan Aykroyd bursts into his office fuming.
Chevy's giving me notes, and he's doing it in a Scottish accent.
Chevy isn't just a cast member, of course.
He's also one of the head writers.
So the fact that Chevy is giving Dan notes, that's not the problem.
From the perspective of the cast, Chevy's ego has just gotten way out of hand.
It's not just the Emmys.
He's getting stomped on the street.
He's getting movie offers and renegotiating his contract with SNL.
And all of that has resulted in this most annoying part of Chevy.
He's referring to himself in the third person.
Chevy thinks that Chevy deserves a raise, Jack.
And Lauren is getting an immersive education right now in the effects of sudden fame.
So Chevy Chase leaves the show halfway into season two to pursue his film career.
He's replaced by someone Lauren tried to get for season one, except he got poached by ABC Show first.
We're talking.
about Bill Murray.
Now, audiences are slow to warm up to Bill, surprisingly, but he finds his groove with characters like a nerd named Todd and Nick the lounge singer.
By the way, if you are curious about what happened to ABC's competing version of Saturday Night Live, it actually went off the air after just one season.
That's why Bill Murray became available to go over to Lauren's show.
So I know what you're thinking, Jack.
With ABC show out of the way, Lauren and his team can finally call itself Saturday Night Live.
But SNL keeps becoming the victim of its own success.
Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi leave the show after season four to pursue their own film careers.
By the time season five rolls around, Caddyshack, Animal House, and Blues Brothers, they're all hit movies.
And those SNL cast members have gone off from New York City to Hollywood.
But it doesn't matter.
By 1980, SNL is a full-blown institution.
The show and Lauren are kingmakers now, creating the next generation of A-list entertainers.
But Jack, backstage, things are a little bit out of control.
The fight among the writers and the performers for airtime is savage because they can see the stakes are really high.
Getting your sketch on air is the difference between a Hollywood career and total obscurity.
All those last minute adjustments Lauren makes have life-altering effects.
The better the show does, the more weight Lauren's decisions have.
His office on the 17th floor starts seeming more and more like the Office of Oz, and a meeting with the wizard has consequences.
As season five draws to a close in the spring of 1980, Lauren is renegotiating his own contract.
He wants more weeks off between seasons, some time to regroup and mix up the show's structure.
It's a haggle, but it feels like Lauren and NBC are gonna work it out.
But But then one of his veteran writers, future U.S.
Senator Al Franken, makes a strategic editorial error.
He decides to mock the network president on the air during weekend update.
Fred Silverman.
The guy's been here two years and he hasn't done Diddley Squad.
You heard all that shock laughter from the audience?
Fred isn't laughing.
Oh no, he's not.
A huge behind-the-scenes fight ensues, where Fred probably demands that Lauren fire Al Frank, which ends with the inevitable but still somehow unthinkable conclusion.
Lorne and nearly all the cast leave the show.
No contract extension, no time to regroup, Lorne walks.
Suddenly, NBC's unlikeliest success has a very uncertain future.
The talent and the leadership are already out the door.
So Jack, what's Saturday Night Live without Lorne and the cast that made it famous?
How will this ship sail without its captain?
On Boxing Day 2018, 20-year-old Joy Morgan was last seen at her church, Israel United in Christ, or IUIC.
I just went on my Snapchat and I just see her face plastered everywhere.
This is the missing sister, the true story of a woman betrayed by those she trusted most.
IUIC is my family and like the best family that I've ever had.
But IUIC isn't like most churches.
This is a devilish cult.
You know when you get that feeling where you just I don't want to be here and I want to get out.
It's like that feeling of like I want to go home now.
I'm Charlie Brent Coast Cuff and after years of investigating Joy's case I need to know what really happened to Joy.
Binge all episodes of The Missing Sister exclusively and ad-free right now on Wondery Plus.
Start your free trial of Wondery Plus on Spotify, Apple Podcasts or in in the Wondery app.
It's your man, Nick Cannon, and I'm here to bring you my new podcast, Nick Cannon at Night.
I've heard y'all been needing some advice in the love department.
So who better to help than yours, truly?
Nah, I'm serious.
Every week, I'm bringing out some of my celebrity friends and the best experts in the business to answer your most intimate relationship questions.
Having problems with your man?
We got you.
Catching feelings for your sneaky link?
Let's make sure it's the real deal first.
Ready to bring toys into the the bedroom?
Let's talk about it.
Consider this a non-judgment zone to ask your questions when it comes to sex and modern dating in relationships, friendships, situationships, and everything in between.
It's gonna be sexy, freaky, messy, and you know what?
You'll just have to watch the show.
So don't be shy.
Join the conversation and head over to YouTube to watch Nick Cannon at night or subscribe on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcast.
Want to watch episodes early and ad-free?
Join Wondery Plus right now.
Call it corporate puberty because SNL is about to go through its awkward years.
First, NBC hires a producer, Gene Demanian, to replace Lauren.
She's tasked with hiring a completely new cast and writing staff, since most of the others left with their old boss.
But at the same time, the network slashes the show's production budget by two-thirds.
And when the money's out, so is the quality.
Not only does viewer interest decline, but interest from A-listors to host the show declines as well.
Gene's replaced after just 12 episodes with Dick Ebersoll, the guy who recruited Lauren in the first place.
But before she goes, Jean does make one casting decision that changes entertainment history.
She hires a 19-year-old up-and-comer named Eddie Murphy.
Do we need to explain how brilliant Eddie is?
I don't think we need to explain.
Totally.
But Eddie plays plays Gumby as a jaded showbiz hack.
He plays Stevie Wonder perfectly, dueting with Frank Sinatra.
He channels James Brown getting into a hot tub.
But even with Eddie in the cast, the show feels like a shell of its former self.
Ratings had steadily risen during Lauren's tenure from a 19% audience share in year one to 39% share in year five.
But after he goes, the numbers backslide sharply in the Lornless era.
For Lauren, it is painful to watch his babies decline.
Instead, Lorne co-writes and co-produces a movie during his exile, The Three Amigos, and he also tries his hand at a primetime variety show, but that fizzles out.
So in 1985, both Lorne and the NBC network swallow their pride, and Lorne returns to SNL.
With Lorne back at the helm, SNL 2.0 goes on one of the longest creative runs in TV history.
The 80s gives us Dana Carvey's church lady, Phil Hartman, and Nora Dunn, Hans and Franz, Colin Blow, Stuart Smalley.
But then Lauren makes a move that will totally transform the business model of SNL.
He adds a rubbery-faced Canadian, Mike Myers, to the cast.
Soon, the world meets a pair of teenage public access TV hosts.
Now, the reason Jack mentioned SNL's business model is because not only does Wayne's World become a regular set piece of SNL, it spins off into a blockbuster movie franchise.
Now, Wayne's World is not the first sketch to jump to the big screen.
That would be the Blues Brothers back in 1980.
But Wayne's World is the first SNL spin-off produced by Lorne himself.
And it makes over $183 million worldwide, kick-starting Mike Meyer's film career, which generates more than $1 billion.
Now, Austin Powers and its sequels, Shrek and its sequels, none of these would have happened without Wayne's World.
Lauren is back at SNL, back to picking the next great comedy stars.
Tons of alums have gone on to this exact template of success, often with Lorne producing, like Tina Faye, who wrote and co-starred in Mean Girls, and then created 30 Rock, a sitcom about making an SNL type show.
Or Adam Sandler, who's Happy Madison Productions, has made more than 50 films and counting, including a new $275 million deal with Netflix, which means we probably have 50 more films coming.
Lauren personally oversees the jump to late-night talk shows for Seth Meyers, Conan O'Brien, and Jimmy Fallon, who eventually takes over the tonight show.
This SNL machine is not just a show, it's a launch pad to future stardom and success.
Lorne hasn't just created stars with SNL, he's created moguls.
But another surprise beneficiary?
YouTube.
And all because of a joke video shot on a borrowed digital camera with almost no crew about two guys on a lazy Sunday.
Lazy Sunday, wake up in the late afternoon.
This low rent but high octane video is the product of cast member Andy Sandberg and his group The Lonely Island.
It airs on SNL in December 2005, not long after these guys were hired by Lauren.
Now at first it just seems like a regular pre-taped segment.
You know SNL's been doing them from the beginning.
But fate intervenes when a random viewer tapes the song, rips it, and uploads it to YouTube.
At the time, YouTube's been around for less than a year.
No one knows if YouTube is going to stick around.
But as soon as Lazy Sunday hits YouTube, it becomes one of the platform's first viral hits.
This one video increases YouTube's traffic by 83%
in the first week alone.
One video, YouTube blows up, and less than a year later, Google acquires them for $1.6 billion.
Another SNL success story, this time, SNL influencing big tech.
But ironically, it takes NBC a long time to embrace YouTube as a vehicle for their content.
In fact, the network's reaction to Lazy Sunday's millions of views, they actually threatened to sue YouTube for copyright violation, and they force YouTube to take down that viral video.
For years, NBC tries to keep their web content gated on NBC.com where nobody is really watching it.
But eventually, like every other network going through the same situation, NBC realizes YouTube is here to stay.
So in 2013, they stop resisting and finally embrace it by launching SNL's official YouTube channel.
Turns out, SNL and YouTube go together like bread and butter.
The channel now has 16 million subscribers, more than last week, tonight, more than the daily show.
And here's the thing, SNL's digital strategy, it is key to their continued relevance.
Back in the 70s, SNL earned its cred with young people through its daring comedy and its late night time slot.
Back when we all watched the same thing on TV.
But today, young people don't watch network TV.
They grew up watching YouTube.
And the proof is in the numbers.
For its 50th anniversary season, SNL's episodes averaged 7 million viewers for the original broadcast.
And that is among their best ratings yet.
But SNL on YouTube?
Between 25 and 50 million views per week.
That papyrus skit Ryan Gosling started?
Boom, that racked up 24 million views and counting.
I forgot about it for years, but then I remembered that Avatar, a giant international blockbuster, used the papyrus font as its logo.
Saturday Night Live is still going strong, even if most of you don't watch it live and don't watch it on Saturday night, like you did when Lorne Michaels first unleashed this show on Studio 8H 50 years ago.
Speaking of Lorne, at 80, he's still captaining the ship of SNL.
He's had to say goodbye, though, to some beloved cast members along the way.
Gilda Radner, John Belushi, Andy Kaufman, Phil Hartman, Chris Farley, Jan Hooks, Norm McDonald, and many more in front of the camera and behind the scenes.
A few names have been whispered as possible successors to Lord Michaels.
Tina Faye.
Okay.
Seth Myers.
I see it.
Colin Jost.
I bet Scar Joe would like that too.
But everyone agrees the job is Lauren's to give away.
And as long as Lauren's running it, the show will go on.
Maybe even for another 50 years and beyond.
So, Jack, now that you've heard the story of Saturday Night Live,
I got a disease.
And the only prescription is more
takeaway.
What's your takeaway on SNL?
According to Lauren Michaels, the Snickers bar is the model for SNL success because the Snickers has variety and consistency.
People expect a certain amount of peanuts, a certain amount of caramel, and a certain amount of chocolate.
A balanced variety of ingredients assembled in a consistent format that puts customers at ease.
But, Jack, no two Snickers bars are alike, right?
Just like no two episodes of SNL are alike.
Right, but the key formula underneath it remains the same: Consistency and variety.
It's the Snickers bar model of creative success.
What about you, Nick?
What's your takeaway?
Jack, mine's a Lorne takeaway as well.
Inefficiency can actually be very efficient.
Here's how Lorne Michaels explains why he waits until Friday or even Saturday to cut sketches.
He says, snap decisions get you into trouble.
So I tend to do rolling decisions.
It is really inefficient to build sets and props and wigs for a sketch that's just going to get cut from the show.
Right, it would save so much time and money to lock in the sketches on Wednesday instead of waiting for like Saturday night right before the show.
But then that would be making a decision without a key piece of information, how it performs in front of a live audience.
That's why Lawrence sits under those audience bleachers, vibe in with the crowd.
It lets them see the whole show as one piece.
And then at the last minute, he can make the right decision.
That inefficiency can be very efficient.
All right, Nick, before we go, it's time for our favorite part of the show, The Best Facts Yet.
Yeties, these are the hero stats, the facts, and the surprises we discovered in our research, but we just couldn't fit into the story.
We've said how Lauren has kept certain traditions and methods in place from 1975 on.
Well, this includes the fact that SNL still uses giant handwritten cue cards.
They don't use teleprompters.
All right, why is this Jack?
Because I bet it's a really weird reason.
Rumor has it Lorne is superstitious.
He feels like the second they move to the teleprompter, the TV gods will cause all power to go out or all the hard drives to get fried or something.
So analog handcrafted cue cards it is.
I'm Ron Burgundy.
And finally, here's one for you, Jack.
It's about one of the most memorable sketches the show has ever produced in our lifetimes.
It stars Christopher Walking, and honestly, that's probably all we really need to say.
I got a fever,
and the only prescription is more cowbell.
Forget this, Jack.
More cowbell?
Almost didn't have walking in it.
And it almost didn't have a cowbell.
It's true.
This sketch originally was pitched for an earlier episode hosted by Norm McDonald.
And Will Farrell's character, the one showing off that midriff and banging the cowbell, he was actually written to play a wood block instead.
But it turned out to be one of those sketches that got cut and reworked and resurfaced months later, rewritten for Christopher Watkins' voice.
And we are all the better for it.
Except maybe Christopher Watkins, who still hears people yell, More Cowbell, to this day.
Bruce Dickinson, cock of the walk, baby.
All right, Nick, I'm checking my watch.
And as David Spain would say, bye-bye.
And that, yet, is why Saturday Night Live is the best idea yet.
Coming up on the next episode of The Best Idea Yet, we're heading up to the self-proclaimed Vacation Land USA.
Lace up those duck boots because we're wading into the origins of LL Bean.
You're welcome, Mainers.
You're welcome.
And don't forget to rate and review the show.
Five stars is the best way to help us grow.
And then tap to follow the show and auto-download the episodes so we can hang with you every single week.
Follow The Best Idea Yet on the Wondery app, Amazon Music, or wherever you get your podcasts.
You can listen to every episode of The Best Idea Yet early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts.
Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey.
The Best Idea Yet is a production of Wondery hosted by me, Nick Martel, and me, Jack Kravici-Kramer.
Our senior producers are Matt Beagle and Chris Gauthier.
Peter Arcuni is our additional senior producer.
Our senior managing producer is Callum Plus, and Jake Kleinberg is our managing producer.
Our producer is H.
Conley.
Research by Brent Corson.
This episode was written and produced by Katie Clark Gray.
We use many sources in our research, including the classic oral history of the first 10 years of SNL.
Live from New York by Tom Shales and James Andrew Miller.
And Lauren Michaels is the real star of Saturday Night Live by Susan Morrison for The New Yorker.
Sound design and mixing by CJ Drummler.
Fact-checking by Brian Pocknett.
Music supervision by Scott Velazquez and Jolena Garcia for Freesan Sync.
Our theme song is Got That Feeling Again by Blackalak.
Executive producers for Nick and Jack Studios are me, Nick Martell, and me, Jack Kravici-Kramer.
Executive producers for Wondery are Jenny Lauer-Beckman, Erin O'Flaherty, and Marshall Louie.
Hi, I'm Denise Chan, host of Scam Factory.
You might remember hearing about our investigative series that exposed what's really happening behind those suspicious texts you get.
Inside heavily guarded compounds across Asia, thousands are trapped and forced to scam others or risk torture.
One of our most powerful stories was Jella's, a young woman who thought she'd found her dream job, only to end up imprisoned in a scam compound.
Her escape story caught the attention of criminals Phoebe Judge, and I'm honored to share more details of Jella's journey with their audience.
But Jella's story is just one piece of this investigation.
In Scam Factory, we reveal how a billion-dollar criminal empire turns job seekers into prisoners and how the only way out is to scam your way out.
Ready to uncover the full story?
Binge all episodes of Scam Factory now.
Listen to Scam Factory on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts.