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    ‘Saturday Night’ Review: Live TV at Its Mildest

    When it debuted 50 years ago, “S.N.L.” was chaotic, rangy, even offensive. But nothing’s wild or crazy in Jason Reitman’s fictional reimagining of its first episode.Movies about tectonic cultural shifts tend to be too neat and tidy, too frictionless. “Saturday Night,” the director Jason Reitman’s fictional reimagining of the debut of “Saturday Night Live,” is a nice, safe movie about a revolution. Busily plotted and sporadically funny, it is a backstage look at the night a gang of comics whom most of the world had never heard of began taking over TVs across the country. It was a comedy home invasion on a national scale, and it was glorious (when it didn’t suck).The movie, written by Reitman and Gil Kenan, has a straightforward conceit. It opens at on Oct. 11, 1975, the night that the show, then called “NBC’s Saturday Night,” is scheduled to debut. (The name was changed in 1977.) In just 90 minutes — ticktock — the show will go live if the performers, writers, crew, network suits and some guy named Lorne can get it together in time. A lot of money, reputations and possibly bright futures are riding on the show, but with its deadline looming, it still seems underbaked and, from some vantage points, overly abstract.To convey that premiere and what it portended, Reitman both sticks to the historical record and embellishes it, building momentum by zeroing in on some mini-crisis amid rapid edits, swish pans and rushing bodies. Everything and everyone at 30 Rockefeller Plaza runs too fast or seems immobilized, with characters either in frenetic motion or huddling in pools of flop sweat. As the minutes pass, Reitman periodically cuts to a clock onscreen or someone calls out the time; at one point, a set designer, Leo Yoshimura (Abraham Hsu), slowly begins installing bricks on the stage of Studio 8H, each brick an emblem of the show’s parts sliding into place.In a (real) 1975 news release, NBC called the show “a new concept in late-night programming.” The network wanted a replacement for weekend reruns of “The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson,” and this venture was going to be a comedy show with sketches, musical guests, short films and the Muppets. But it was unclear what it was, maybe even to those behind the scenes. That much seems obvious when an NBC executive, Dick Ebersol (Cooper Hoffman), asks the show’s creator-producer, Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle), if he knows what it is. The straight-faced Lorne responds with an amusing, self-aggrandizing analogy involving Edison, the lightbulb and electricity. Who are you in this metaphor, the baffled exec asks.Lorne doesn’t answer, but the movie does by making him its focus. The character is less interesting than his surroundings — he’s more a blurry place holder than a fully realized personality — but whether here or there, Lorne is the center of this storm. He’s the hub, the visionary, the guy who can see past the chaos. Sure, there’s his wife, the writer Rosie Shuster (a tart Rachel Sennott); the host, George Carlin (Matthew Rhys); and a creepy suit, Dave Tebet (Willem Dafoe, in by far the funniest turn). But the star is Lorne because even genius apparently needs a boss.So, hi Chevy Chase (Cory Michael Smith), Gilda Radner (Ella Hunt), Jane Curtin (Kim Matula), Laraine Newman (Emily Fairn), Dan Aykroyd (Dylan O’Brien), Garrett Morris (Lamorne Morris, no relation) and John Belushi (Matt Wood). It’s nice to see them, so it’s too bad that only a few of the actors playing the main cast — and only the men — manage to register. That’s the case even when Reitman gestures at the show’s gender problems, as in a peek at a still-funny sketch about female construction workers learning how to harass a guy in short shorts. It’s Dan’s squirmy embarrassment, and how he then wags his rump, that makes it work.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Chris Chalk of ‘Perry Mason’ Takes a Deep Breath

    Chris Chalk put his stamp on HBO’s dark, dynamic “Perry Mason” during a key scene in the first season, when his character, the deeply conflicted beat cop Paul Drake, pays a visit to Perry’s home. Paul has just danced around the truth on the witness stand to protect himself and his white superiors, and it doesn’t sit well. Nor does the cash payoff he received for his obedience.“Every day I got to wake up with this ball of fear inside of me,” he tells Perry, the defense attorney played by Matthew Rhys. “Gotta go put on that uniform, and go out there and play the fool.” And the wad of cash he received? “What they give me for being a good boy. I do not like feeling owned.”It’s a central moment in the series, which returns on Monday, a searing encapsulation of how it feels to be a principled and ambitious Black man in 1930s Los Angeles. Chalk conveys every nuance with relaxed intensity, a trait for which he is known by viewers and admired by peers.“He vacillates between being very intense and focused about his work and just really silly and fun,” Diarra Kilpatrick, who plays Paul’s wife, Clara, said in a video interview. “He lives between those two spaces.”This is an exciting time for Chalk. He plays a bigger role in the new “Perry Mason” season, as Paul goes to work as Perry’s chief investigator. He just returned from the Sundance Film Festival, where the new film in which he stars, “All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt,” received a mostly positive reception. He recently directed his first feature, “Our Deadly Vows,” in which he stars alongside his wife, K.D. Chalk.But Chalk, like Paul, also carries a good deal of stress. During a video interview last month from his home in Los Angeles, he gulped from a large glass of corn silk tea, intended to ease some prostate issues that he said might be stress-related. He wears small bandages on a finger and a thumb, casualties of excessive smartphone use.“It’s life, isn’t it?” he said. “We all got our things, and we just have to breathe through it and be grateful.”From left, Matthew Rhys, Chalk and Juliet Rylance in a scene from “Perry Mason.” In Season 2, Chalk’s character, Paul, has become Perry’s chief investigator.Merrick Morton/HBOFor all of these slings and arrows, Chalk, 45, remains one of those actors for whom seemingly nobody has an unkind word.“I would love to talk about how awesome Chris Chalk is, it’s one of my favorite subjects!” wrote Alison Pill, who worked with Chalk on the HBO series “The Newsroom,” from 2012 to 2014. “Chris Chalk is like a one-in-a-million human,” Kilpatrick said. “When he walks into the makeup trailer, I’m always slightly envious-slash-borderline resentful, because he’s a physical specimen,” Rhys said in a video interview.“And he’s always very stylish — he looks good in every sense,” Rhys added. “I’m always like, ah, [expletive] you, Chalk.”Chalk, and Paul, are crucial to the mission of “Perry Mason.” Kilpatrick joked that the original “Perry Mason,” which starred Raymond Burr and aired on CBS from 1957 to 1966, was “the favorite show of every Black grandmother in the world.” But this is not your grandmother’s show. This “Perry Mason” is savvy about race, gender and class — the second season centers on two Mexican American teens charged with murdering a white businessman — elements that were rarely front and center in the original series.“Old-school ‘Perry Mason’ is lovely, but it’s literally only white people, and barely any women,” Chalk said.The new version, which premiered in 2020, focuses on a group of three outsiders in a gritty, noir-drenched Los Angeles: Perry, a disheveled, heavy-drinking private investigator-turned attorney still traumatized by his World War I experiences; Della Street (Juliet Rylance), Perry’s right hand, who is navigating the sexism of the courtroom and life as a closeted lesbian; and Paul, who is trying to do right by his conscience and his people in a time and place where the racism is out in the open.Chalk grew up poor in Asheville, N.C., where he said he had shotguns pointed at him. “The only way to survive was to shift who I was depending on how dangerous of a room I was in,” he said.Michael Tyrone Delaney for The New York TimesMichael Begler, who, with Jack Amiel, assumed showrunner duties in the new season from Ron Fitzgerald and Rolin Jones, said that none of it worked without Chalk. (Fitzgerald and Jones stepped down to focus on other projects, a spokesman for HBO said; to take over, the network tapped Begler and Amiel, who had created “The Knick” for Cinemax, an HBO subsidiary.)“What was great about working with him is he was constantly challenging me as the writer to get it right,” Begler said in a video interview. “The story that we’re telling with him really lets us dive into not just the typical, ‘Oh yeah, there’s a lot of racism’ idea. We go deeper into what he’s feeling, and his ethics.“He goes deeper, and I think that speaks to Chris and who he is as a person.”He learned early. Chalk grew up poor in Asheville, N.C. “Asheville is lovely for tourists, but it’s a pretty racist place,” he said. “I definitely had shotguns put to the back of my head. I don’t think there are many people who would want to trade childhoods with me.”But his upbringing also turned out to provide unexpected training. “I believed at that time that the only way to survive was to shift who I was depending on how dangerous of a room I was in,” he said. “I became very good at that.”Chalk studied theater at the University of North Carolina Greensboro, then moved to New York, where he immersed himself in the drama world. He was a reader at Labyrinth Theater Company under the artistic director Philip Seymour Hoffman, and soon won parts of his own, culminating in the 2010 Broadway production of “Fences” opposite Denzel Washington and Viola Davis. Television and film followed, including roles in “Homeland,” “Gotham,” “Detroit” and “When They See Us.”With success comes new stress, Chalk acknowledged, and he has experienced a lot of both lately. “We all got our things,” Chalk said. “We just have to breathe through it and be grateful.”Michael Tyrone Delaney for The New York TimesThere are, by most accounts, two Chris Chalks. One likes to joke around on the set and make friends. The other is an intense professional who seeks out serious conversation and cuts up his scripts and pastes the segments into an ever-ready notebook so he can make notes on each scene.Sometimes the two Chalks converge. Pill fondly remembered Chalk engaging her to read Amiri Baraka’s 1964 play “Dutchman” with him during downtime on the “Newsroom” set. The confrontational and allegorical play is about a Black man and a white woman on the New York subway.“So many of our conversations are about race and misogyny and the world, and they also come back to why we make art, and pragmatism and reality, and what the game is,” Pill said by phone. “He operates on all of these different levels all the time, and hopping back and forth between them is something that I think he does really well.”Chalk’s facility for switching modes — and codes — sounds a lot like Paul Drake. He spends his personal life with his family in the working class Black neighborhood of South Central Los Angeles. Then he enters the world of investigating for Perry, a world that sometimes puts him at odds with his own values and other Black people, an internal conflict that comes to a head in the new season. He has definitively moved on from his identity as a go-along-to-get-along police officer.“Paul was this ideal man, if one is behaving within the constructs of a white supremacist America,” Chalk said. “He was your Negro; you knew he was safe. And now, I don’t know. Paul might even be, dare I say, reckless.”Paul could stand to relax a little. So could Chalk, by his own admission. He’d like to get those prostate numbers to a better place. Reduce that cellphone usage. Maybe even tap into his lighter side a little more.“I like to do very dark and complicated things,” he said. But it might not be the worst idea, he ventured, to “throw some comedy in there to relax the system a little bit.”“The stuff I’ve done has largely been surrounding trauma,” he added. “I do enjoy doing that. But it might be time to do ‘Sesame Street.’” More