Season 45 of Saturday Night Live was one of the most unusual and pivotal in the show’s long history, defined by both the disruption of the COVID-19 pandemic and lingering creative stagnation. In this episode, we each described the season with medically themed words—“viral” and “infected”—capturing its literal interruption by the coronavirus and the metaphorical symptoms of deeper artistic problems.
The pandemic played a defining role in this season, with production halting in March 2020. The final three episodes, known as the “SNL at Home” shows, were filmed remotely, with cast members recording sketches in their kitchens and bedrooms using whatever technology they had on hand. Though uneven, these episodes formed a kind of proto-TikTok aesthetic—short-form, DIY comedy that foreshadowed future trends in digital humor. Despite their limitations, the remote shows were endearing and occasionally clever, offering glimpses into cast members’ homes and personal lives. Opening credits were revamped accordingly, showcasing the performers in lockdown mode, which added a touch of humanity to the chaotic moment.
Season 45 began with a scandal before it even aired: comedian Shane Gillis was hired and then quickly fired after offensive podcast clips surfaced. His departure cast a shadow over what could have been a much-needed injection of edgy male energy into a cast lacking strong male leads. Gillis’ story, later revisited in his own words, remains one of the great “what-ifs” in SNL lore. Meanwhile, the season welcomed Chloe Fineman and Bowen Yang to the cast, the latter becoming the show’s first Chinese-American cast member. Leslie Jones departed after several seasons.
A major highlight came mid-season with Eddie Murphy’s much-anticipated return to host for the first time since the 1980s. The episode leaned heavily on nostalgia, reviving Mr. Robinson, Gumby, Buckwheat, and Velvet Jones. Though not a groundbreaking night creatively, Murphy’s energy and charisma carried the episode, making it the clear standout of the season. Adam Driver also returned and solidified his reputation as a dependable host who throws himself into absurd material with gusto.
However, the rest of the season often faltered under the weight of formulaic writing and stale impressions. The political cold opens were frequently bloated, unimaginative, and crammed with cameos and impersonations with little satirical bite. Alec Baldwin’s portrayal of Donald Trump continued to degrade in quality, and sketches often focused more on quantity of impressions than on substance or commentary. Characters like Elizabeth Warren (played by Kate McKinnon) were used more for performative cheerleading than actual satire, contributing to a sense of detachment from meaningful political critique.
The show leaned heavily on a comedic duo dynamic between Kate McKinnon and Aidy Bryant, who appeared together in numerous sketches. While they had chemistry, their sketches were hit-or-miss, with Bryant receiving a significant uptick in screen time this season. Meanwhile, male cast members like Mikey Day and Alex Moffat were underused. Bennett and Mooney's brand of surrealist sketches wore thin, and Christian Schneider raised red flags about a growing collaboration between Beck Bennett and writer Andrew Dismukes, citing multiple sketches that felt lazy or derivative.
Season 45 marked the end of the road for veteran writer James Anderson, who had been with the show for 20 years. The writing staff was supplemented with new faces, including Dan Licata and Jasmine Pierce, but the overall tone of the show remained inconsistent and often uninspired.
Despite occasional bright spots—some quirky digital shorts, decent host performances, and nostalgic callbacks—the season was largely weighed down by political fatigue, repetitive sketches, and the existential shock of a global pandemic. As we concluded, SNL was not just infected by COVID—it was creatively ailing and in desperate need of a reboot.