This Tuesday marks 25 years since a pivotal moment in reshaping the attitude over live actors breaking character. By giving his Matt Foley character a national glimpse, the late Chris Farley left his Saturday Night Live colleagues helpless.
Farley had previously played the bombastic, caffeinated, not-so-exemplary motivational speaker in smaller, non-televised settings. And naturally, he had rehearsed all week with castmate David Spade and host of the week Christina Applegate.
None of that mattered when NBC flipped on the cameras for the May 8, 1993 episode. Neither did the (ultimately irrational) fear of a tongue-lashing from executive producer Lorne Michaels for those losing focus.
Granted, SNLers have explicitly stated that their patriarch prefers they sustain a straight face. When six-year cast veteran Jimmy Fallon hosted the program for the first time, he rattled off many classic sketches, paused and then lightheartedly confessed to having “ruined” them with his unscripted mirth.
That notwithstanding, Spade and Applegate’s shared breakdown on a makeshift living-room couch hardly spoiled Foley’s debut. On the contrary, Rolling Stone ranked that sketch No. 1 among its all-time SNL top 50.
In its elaboration, the magazine stated that the character “quickly became a national legend since the folks on stage were laughing almost as hard as the audience.”
That sentiment is as contagious as the laughter itself. In 2016, thethings.com opined that “laughing during a scene is embraced as one of the upsides of the long-running comedy sketch show.”
Could it be that the show is as long-running as it is because of this imperfect phenomenon? At least in part, yes.
As time-honored as it is, SNL is never a destination for comedic actors. It is more like the equivalent of an elite college athletics program, steeped with a succession of famous alumni in TV, cinema and elsewhere.
Any given cast may have some unmistakable legends in the making. With that said, those greats have yet to brush their ceiling as long as they are still employed at SNL.
What better way to underscore the not-quite-there status of these up-and-coming stars than by embracing their funny follies? Naturally, you do not want too much disruptive chortling in a sketch. But the right amount between one’s gift for eliciting laughter and the performer’s willingness to openly agree with the satisfied customers.
While Farley and the majority of his castmates were let go in 1995, the crack-ups he catalyzed two years prior may have helped cement SNL’s robustness for generations to come. At the time, the series was rounding out its second decade, and many wondered if it had exhausted its appeal. Most notably, New York magazine ran a cover story delving into the show’s “decline and fall.”
But fast-forward 23 years, and SNL has more than avoided any fall. It has logged a laundry list of more unplanned, yet beloved Foley-Brian-Stacey episodes.
Following its assessments of the merits of breaking character, thethings.com went on to rank 15 classic examples. Matt Foley’s first appearance was the oldest moment mentioned. That dynamic is a testament to how breaking character has become an indispendable phenomenon for SNL.
From Farley’s peak onward, every era has had at least one definitive breaker and one go-to target. In 1998, two years after shedding Spade and three after Farley left, the show welcomed Fallon. He proceeded to routinely melt with mirth at the hands of Will Ferrell and others.
In this department, Fallon went out “in style” when Rachel Dratch’s Debbie Downer debuted in the spring of 2004.
Did it hurt his standing, let along his career going forward? Please, how is that even a question?
By Fallon’s second hosting stint, he was plugging his promotion from host of NBC’s Late Night to the same position on The Tonight Show. As part of that December 2013 episode, he reunited with repeat batterymate Justin Timberlake, the evening’s musical guest.
As part of a parody of Celebrity Family Feud, the first sketch of its kind, Timberlake impersonated Fallon. Across the stage, Fallon was playing Jim Parsons (or really Parsons as Sheldon Cooper on The Big Bang Theory). But rather than nitpick Fallon’s approach to his part, all down-to-earth SNL devotees were simply waiting for Timberlake to top all of his predecessors in eliciting deliciously inappropriate guffaws.
The hype and conspiracy did not disappoint. As Timberlake lampooned Fallon’s unconditional enthusiasm one time too many, the camera panned to a Parsons-free podium. The real Fallon’s face was crouched behind the barrier.
It was a nice collective gesture on the part of everyone who made the moment possible. After all, this episode was capping off the calendar year that saw Bill Hader bid farewell to Studio 8H.
The most uproarious male SNL performer this side of Ferrell, Hader established his legacy as a reliable breaker in one recurring bit. As Stefon, a regular Weekend Update guest, Hader never failed to grin at the absurd descriptions of “New York’s hottest club.”
The comically criminal mastermind behind those crack-ups was writer John Mulaney. Himself a seasoned stand-up artist, Mulaney has explained in countless interviews his deliberate set-ups for Hader. Just as Farley once withheld portions of his antics throughout rehearsal, Mulaney would put new lines on Hader’s cue cards at the last minute.
The two cases are two decades apart, give or take. And even in the post-Hader era, SNL has its hunters and their go-to targets. Case in point: Kate McKinnon and her repeated testimonies of alien encounters.
The aforementioned 2016 listicle from thethings.com included the first time McKinnon made host Ryan Gosling lose all self-containment. Earlier this season, when Gosling and the sketch came back, McKinnon made sure there was a second time.
At precisely the 23-second mark, the studio audience roared with approval. They knew what was coming. They knew to expect the unexpected.
Three minutes later, they were out of control. But at least for his sake, this time Gosling had his back to everyone as part of the act. Then again, it does not take much imagination to assume he was playing a ticklish individual.
Collectively, these double acts represent the most fail-safe lighthearted routines that confirm SNL’s adaptability through time.
Regardless of how much merit their case has, there will always be those who snort that the show has devolved into a sideshow of uncalled-for sociopolitical activism. But viewpoints and sense of humor, the detractors are unintentionally or conveniently overlooking the way SNL capitalizes on breaking character the way other mainstream entertainment entities cannot.
Unlike a sitcom episode or full-length film, a skit rarely leaves sufficient time for actors to disappear into their characters. Under this format, the fourth wall has less time for construction. As such dismantling that proverbial barrier between imagination and reality is a less significant deed.
In live editions, in particular, sketch comedy comes with more of a bridge-like infrastructure. At any given time, when one performer’s words or actions catalyze the moment, the other characters stand between the audience and the center of attention.
When those already informal intermediaries crack up, they create a sense of access. Their funny bones rebel and they relent. They acknowledge the inescapable fact that they are literally living this creation alongside their customers.
Spade summed up this reality in his recounting of the Matt Foley bit on the Spike documentary I Am Chris Farley. No amount of rehearsal could preserve his “professionalism” or that of Christina Applegate when the sketch went live.
“I think just the combo of watching the audience see for the first time that this is such a funny thing,” Spade said in the retrospective. “I started thinking it was funnier again.”
And so he and Applegate let loose and made a dual blooper reel and final cut of the sketch. There are plenty of sitcoms where one can sense all of the actors are having an enviably good time. When you watch the blooper and gag montage, your suspicions are confirmed. But that is no substitute for watching the participants’ enjoyment in real time.
Now more than twice as old as it was in the Farley era, SNL sustains an integral part of its vigor through the healthful laughter of its own employees. In an age of intensifying two-sided sensitivity, the pure escapist portions of the show keep everyone’s blood pressure down and expectant interest up.
Political and celebrity impressions will always please some and irk others. The ratio of differing opinions are all but guaranteed to keep those bits in the range of polarizing.
But the purely fictional and unequivocally commentary-free creations are the one safe bet for cool-headed unity. Those who lack a taste for the brand of humor in one short, silly story can click away and forget about it. There is nothing to elevate anyone’s ire in that scenario.
Otherwise, we are left in peace to reap the benefits of a good laugh. Those benefits are double-dosed if and when the actors spread the innocuous contagion through the screen.
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