Of course I watched SNL last weekend. And of course Bill Hader was wonderful and amazing in all ways. He’s a sneaky comedy crush. One moment, he’s just a dude — just Bill Hader, then, suddenly, he’s this beautiful, honest, otherworldly man who has so much quirky joy onstage that I can’t stop watching and suddenly have to track down everything he’s ever been in. Hello, poorly constructed sentence.
When I was little, I wanted to be on SNL. I wanted to be Gilda Radner on SNL, specifically. I’ve always loved the show, even when it was dragged through the mud (hello, late 80s).
I love comedians. I feel a kinship with silly people. The people who live to elicit laughs. Robin Williams. Gilda. Amy Poehler. Steve Martin. Andy Samberg, Leslie Jones. Rachel Dratch. Jan Hooks, Mike Meyers. Bill fucking Hader.
I know I’ve mentioned it in the past, but I also love how SNL closes its show with everyone hugging one another. There’s an intimacy and a “We did it!” feeling to it that just makes a girl (this girl, specifically) happy. Sure, it’s contrived, and sure, some of the people are likely grossed out by people they have to embrace, but LET A GIRL DREAM. At least some of those hugs are real. Those are the ones that matter to me.
Magic happens with ensemble comedians. Yes I’m making a vast generalization. No, I don’t care. The creativity is so palpable, and I bet watching the brainstorming in action is so freaking cool. I’ve probably romanticized it way more than I should, but maybe that’s what makes the “when I grow up, I want to be a…” dreams so great. They’re idealistic and simple.
At this point, I’ve laid to rest my hopes of getting cast on SNL. However, particularly after having watched Bill Hader have so much fun on the show last night, I’m inspired to dip my toes back into the comedy pool. I miss playing well with others.