The British comedian Peter Cook, founder of the Establishment Club in the 1960s, had a famously wry line about satire, saying his club was modeled on “those wonderful Berlin cabarets which did so much to stop the rise of Hitler and prevent the outbreak of the Second World War.” On the whole, we’re inclined to agree with that view on the effectiveness on satire, and the result of the presidential election seemed to back that up: once Baldwin stepped in to play Trump, the show became less kind to him, particularly during the presidential debate sketches, and yet he still won (a win that somehow came from having three million fewer votes than his opponent, but whatever).
‘SNL’ has never been known for its devastating political satire. Will Ferrell’s portrayal of George W. Bush as a folksy language-mangling dimwit was memorable, sure, but it was affectionate and even likeable, giving the man who launched the Iraq war and dismantled civil liberties an innocence that one could argue only helped him win re-election. But Bush never acknowledged the show’s existence, like most other presidents or politicians before him. Trump seemingly watches every week, and reacts on Twitter, because he’s thin-skinned, egotistical and can’t stand being the butt end of a joke.
A fair criticism of liberal politics being brought into entertainment is that it can feel like preaching to the converted. But what’s been fascinating about ‘SNL’ in the weeks since Trump took office, first with Aziz Ansari’s monologue and then with this week’s show, is that it feels like the writing is now aimed not at the millions of converted, but an audience of one — Donald J. Trump.
And if punches were being pulled during the campaign, they’re not anymore, with ‘SNL’ slinging pointed comedic arrows, hard and fast: an opening that saw Trump declaring war on multiple nations, being easily manipulated, and being made to sit at a tiny desk while President Bannon takes his seat as President; a monologue that saw host Kristen Stewart mock Trump and accuse him of being in love with her ex-boyfriend; Melissa McCarthy as a perpetually furious Sean Spicer; jabs at Trump’s (at least temporarily) failed, racist executive order banning immigration from predominately Muslim nations.
There are those who think that it isn’t helpful. Pulitzer-shortlisted critic Ken Tucker wrote a piece at Yahoo suggesting that there was nothing “funny” about the show, and that it treated Trump “the way SNL has always treated Presidents — as a bumbler who makes mistakes.” With respect to Tucker, who was shortlisted for a Pulitzer versus our participation awards in swimming competitions, we think he’s wrong. This was not particularly sophisticated satire — in fact, it barely qualifies as satire at all. It’s straight up mockery, and that’s important.
It’s important because it belittles Trump — it makes him seem powerless, it makes Bannon look powerful (though we’d agree with Tucker that showing Bannon as a skeletal demon is less effective than the reality, which is showing him as an alcoholic colostomy bag with tiny eyes drawn on its bloated face), it makes Spicer look incompetent. Trump doesn’t like feeling like he’s not the biggest man in the room, and he doesn’t like thinking his employees aren’t doing the best possible job they can do (Spicer will likely make a self-deprecating crack at the next press briefing, but the spectre of McCarthy’s outstanding performance will follow him for the rest of his life).
To some extent, satire has been diminished by the outlandish nature of reality at the minute — even Trey Parker and Matt Stone have essentially admitted that they find Trump hard to poke fun at, and will be avoiding him in the future. But, as with the potential Oscar protests that we wrote about last week, we’d argue that ‘SNL’ taking the gloves off is crucial because, for all that his base won’t care, Trump wants so badly to be in the Hollywood club. Indeed, with his movie cameos and ‘SNL’ appearances, he has sometimes been temporarily admitted to the club. He has met and even performed with some of the writers, cast and crew who are now jabbing at him.
Any criticism drives Trump up the wall, but particularly criticism from the people he wants to like him and be impressed by him — he’s almost uniquely vain and needy among American ‘leaders’ in that way. He will never change: a Kristen Stewart monologue is not about to convince him to protect LGBT rights, or give up his appeals on his unconstitutional Muslim ban. But he can be demoralized and his administration can be divided.
He’s already the fastest president — by a full year — to become unpopular in recorded history. He already took the job after the biggest gap between the popular vote and the electoral college than anyone ever. Every time he fires someone — and he loves to fire people — he creates an enemy who knows his secrets. And that’s why a patchy comedy sketch show attacking his ego by pointing out that people think Bannon is the real power, or that Spicer is bad at his job, has the potential to really matter. It’s why major corporations airing Super Bowl commercials that reaffirm American values that Trump has rejected matters, it’s why the Oscars could end up mattering.
Unusually, Trump has, at time of going to press, not yet tweeted directly about this weekend’s show, suggesting that the weekly Sunday game of hide-the-boss’s-phone was more successful than usual, but this morning did insist like a giant howling baby “I call my own shots,” which suggests the show may have contributed to his latest tantrum. Even if Trump has been persuaded not to directly tweet his displeasure — even if he was somehow persuaded not to watch the show — it’s unlikely to last, particularly with Baldwin hosting what’s sure to be a Trump-heavy installment next week. And every time he shows how thin-skinned he is, how concerned with meaningless bullshit, Trump loses voters and supporters.
As for “Saturday Night Live,” it still has a way to go, and it may never entirely recover from the sense that it contributed in some part to Trump’s victory. But at this point, becoming his most public attacker is the least that it could do.