Saturday Night Live honored Dr. Anthony Fauci well. The man with what’s got to be the least forgiving job in America mused in a recent interview that if he had to be spoofed, it should at least be done by Brad Pitt at least. And so SNL’s second WFH edition opened with the bewigged Oscar winner doing his best Brooklyn accent.
It was a damning cold open, with the beleaguered doctor rolling the worst of the Trump tapes and then being forced to separate fact from insane fiction. If Trump’s fat little hand was on the trigger to fire Fauci before, surely Pitt calmly dropping character to offer a sincere and heartfelt thank you to the good doctor “for your calm and clarity in this unnerving time” could get him to pull it. The one-two punch of a brutal mirror followed by praise for someone else on his team could be too much for the President’s ego to bear.
The episode contained other welcome diversions as well. Pete Davidson should always work from his basement, filmed by the one-person crew of his Ma. His “Stuck in the House” anthem was a fine ode to our deep in the second month’s spirit of claustrophobic ennui (“work out? That’s for bitches), helped by a clutch Adam Sandler verse. “I miss the NBA, and I miss Rob Schneider,” sang the Sand Man, before cutting to his buddy banging unsuccessfully at the kitchen door begging to be let in.
The best sketch of the night, though, featured welcome dollface Paul Rudd taking the spare time provided by quarantining to reconnect with his cousin Mandy (played by a divine Heidi Gardner). Mandy, with her lavender head shop glasses and leather fingerless gloves and headboard full of prescription medicine, got the upper hand in the conversation. She was here to let Rudd know she was not impressed by his perfect salt-and-pepper bear,d and pink cheeks, and fat resume. “I’m grown, I’ve got a wife, I’ve got a demanding job,” he said, whining in the way one finds themselves doing with suspicious extended family members. “That’s not what I heard,” she sneered, taking a brilliant shot at Rudd for not being famous enough to make it into Wonder Woman’s “Imagine” celebrity mash-up.
The show’s PornHub bit was a magical shout-out to all of us suffering through the tidal wave of commercials relentlessly assuring us that we’ll get through this moment in time together, as long as we come together as a people—people who buy their products together, and put our hands up to the glass and listen to the croon of indie rock playing in commercials, together. “Professor, you’re naked,” sighed a woman on Mikey Day’s computer screen, before his son jumped onto the sofa, interrupting Daddy’s alone time. “Porn Hub: Here For You. For However long it takes. So, let’s be alone, together.”
We’re bored; we’re reaching out to family we don’t even like online; we’re horny; we’re supposed to be working out and living our best lives. Which meant another knockout of the night was the SoulCycle virtual workout sketch. Cecily Strong introduced her spin instructor as “Phoenix, as in The University of” before promising those at home, “We don’t have bikes, but that won’t stop us from charging you to work out!” Bowen Yang, who killed in this sketch earlier in the season, bragged, “I’m on a juice cleanse right now. Clorox juice. Eat clean!”
Hey, a lot of sketches missed the mark as well. These episodes are ad hoc experiments. Weekend Update continues to struggle without a live audience’s laughter—though Colin Jost and Michael Che wisely dropped their buddies hooting on speakerphone, and switched to the world map behind them instead of Jost’s carefully placed guitar on the sofa.