What Really Works About <em>SNL</em>

It seemed like just another sketch, fated to oblivion or niche fandom at best. When “Washington’s Dream” first aired on Saturday Night Live last October, it lacked the timely setup or spirited hijinks that typically go viral on the program. Then-host Nate Bargatze played General George Washington giving a pivotal pep talk to his weary Revolutionary War troops, inviting them closer to the campfire of his vision. “We fight for a country of our own,” he said, “a new nation, where we choose our own laws.” What followed was a lengthy bit about breaking with the metric system, but thanks to Bargatze’s deadpan delivery—typical of the staid disquisitions and slow pacing his stand-up has become famous for—the scene became an instant classic.

Last night, with Bargatze returning to host during the show’s 50th season, SNL reprised the moment. “Washington’s Dream 2” took place during the Founding Father’s famous crossing of the Delaware River and focused not on numbers but on words. “We fight to control our own destiny, to create our own nation, and to do our own thing with the English language,” Bargatze said, wistfully but tonelessly. That “thing” involved several aspects: creating a name for the number 12 (a dozen) but no other numbers; having two possible spellings for donut and Jeff (“the stupid way with the G”); and educating children about these nuances in a process that begins in kindergarten and continues on to the second level, inexplicably called the “first grade.”

At a time when SNL has been slow to build recurring characters among its cast (“Lisa from Temecula” being one of the few examples from recent seasons), Bargatze’s return as Washington feels notable, putting him in company with other hosts who have unexpectedly struck gold, such as Tom Hanks with David S. Pumpkins. But unlike those hits, Bargatze’s Washington doesn’t hinge on a catchphrase or overt physical presence.

The sketch’s success is surprising. What new jokes could there possibly be about the imperial system? Or about the fact that hamburgers are not, in fact, made of ham? These are well-trodden observations, the kind of bottom-shelf one-liners that comics of yore once made entire careers out of. In the hands of another comic or celebrity host, it wouldn’t work nearly as well, but Bargatze’s personably sedate demeanor nodded to the punch lines’ colorless comedy in ways that sharpened the absurdities of the American way. When the sketch briefly reached for commentary through the perspective of a Black soldier (Kenan Thompson) questioning whether Washington’s talk of “all Americans” included enslaved people, Bargatze, with a sense of timing sharply honed through years of stand-up, simply ignored him. Those protracted silences lent a satirical bite to America’s juxtaposition of moral blindness and proud ridiculousness—but without overwhelming the delightful silliness on display.

Some online commentators were puzzled last year when SNL tapped Bargatze to host. The stand-up from Tennessee had a solid following, but he wasn’t nearly as well known as other A-list comics who had served in that role—performers such as Dave Chappelle and Amy Schumer, whose level of fame is on par with the star actors and athletes who headline most episodes. But considering the success of “Washington’s Dream,” it shouldn’t be so surprising that Bargatze found himself being asked back—and during the monumental 50th season, no less. SNL may not always understand what will resonate with audiences at the time a sketch airs, but it certainly knows when and how to milk a smash.

The episode fittingly ended with a group that arguably launched the era of the SNL viral clips and inaugurated the show’s made-for-the-internet digital skits. Andy Samberg and Akiva Schaffer—two-thirds of the musical-comedy trio Lonely Island—returned with “Sushi Glory Hole,” a rap song imagining the possibilities of a bathroom-stall aperture that feeds you sushi (as distinct from that other glory hole a few doors down).

After the group’s SNL Digital Short “Lazy Sunday” broke out in 2005, the series became a staple, modernizing the short-film format that Albert Brooks originally developed for SNL and finding the show a new kind of afterlife—and relevancy—on the then-nascent streaming site YouTube. After Lonely Island departed SNL, the show continued producing digital shorts, later hiring Please Don’t Destroy, a group whose web-savvy members had built a YouTube following during the pandemic, to become writers. They seem to have followed in the footsteps of Samberg and his crew, albeit with mixed results.

But last night’s episode highlighted what really works on the show—what lasts beyond the topical hits and alumni cameos that dominate the cold opens—and leaned into classics new and old.