Movie review by Greg Carlson
The perpetually busy documentarian Morgan Neville profiles the perpetually busy producer Lorne Michaels in another of the moviemaker’s sturdy celebrity profiles. Following closely on the heels of nostalgia snapshot “Breakdown: 1975” and the Paul McCartney and Wings time capsule “Man on the Run,” “Lorne” attempts a career retrospective of the “Saturday Night Live” creator. Now 81 years old, Michaels continues to guide the influential sketch comedy series, which debuted October 11, 1975 under original title “NBC’s Saturday Night.” Given that SNL’s essential formula has remained in place for more than half a century, it comes as no surprise that Michaels is framed as a creature of habit and routine.
For casual viewers seeking a basic introduction to the workings of SNL as well as a trip down memory lane, “Lorne” takes care of business. Hardcore fans, who track and trace every installment of the series year in and year out, might even appreciate some of the behind-the-scenes glimpses already well-documented in print (such as the Tom Shales and James Andrew Miller oral history “Live From New York”), YouTube breakdowns, and previous television specials (including the recent “SNL50: Beyond Saturday Night”). But the most voracious appetites who come looking for some revelatory critique of the notoriously private Michaels won’t be satisfied, despite Neville’s “unprecedented” access.
It is impossible to say what kinds of concessions Neville agreed to make in that exchange, but Michaels’ performative annoyance regarding the presence of the cameras hints at the tight ship in Studio 8H. Michaels guards his professional reputation as fiercely as he withholds access to his family. And while I certainly respect the subject’s decision to control the narrative outside the workplace, surely there is a better and more satisfying version of this story when it comes to the consideration of longstanding criticisms, like the show’s track record on diversity and representation in the cast (to name just one thing), that could have/should have been addressed.
Neville makes mention of Lorne’s early professional connection with Lily Tomlin but a 13-year marriage to writer Rosie Shuster is maddeningly glossed over. Shuster appears in the doc with the insulting title “Lorne’s Ex-Wife.” Longtime Michaels pal and neighbor Paul Simon fares better in the telling of a road trip tale that humanizes the man in a manner largely absent from the roundtable featuring Fred Armisen, Bill Hader, Andy Samberg and John Mulaney. Those four comedians feed the mythology of Lorne as a powerful father figure everyone desperately aims to please.
The snowball effect of Lorne Michaels impressions and tributes, embedded in everything from Mike Myers’ Dr. Evil to Alec Baldwin’s Jack Donaghy to Mark McKinney’s Don Roritor, attests to his Olympian status among performers and picks up even more speed with the addition of some new animated “TV Funhouse” segments led by Robert Smigel. Those bits, which concoct outrageous “re-creations” of impossible aspects of Michaels’ deep show business connections and expansive privilege, add some zest simply by their novelty – since we know that the film will otherwise lean heavily on dozens and dozens of familiar clips from classic SNL bits.