Scot Bertram

Jim Carrey Flops as Joe Biden, Ego Nwodim Takes the Wheel as the Show Sags

If you like your comedy sleepy, inconsistent, and oddly celebrity-packed, Season 46 of Saturday Night Live was ready to serve. But if you were hoping for a creative rebound after the shaky COVID lockdown season before it, well… sorry.

This was the first season back in Studio 8H after the “At Home” episodes that ended Season 45. And while you’d think the cast and crew would return fired up and energized—finally reunited in person—it was more like they all walked in wearing pajama pants and never changed. On the podcast, Scot called it the most boring season ever, and Christian agreed, saying this season vindicated the classic online complaint: “SNL isn’t funny anymore.”

The biggest issue? Nobody seemed awake. Half the cast was constantly MIA, off filming their own TV shows like Shrill and Schmigadoon. Cecily Strong and Aidy Bryant, both normally reliable performers, were out for long stretches. In their place, SNL brought back Maya Rudolph and shoehorned her into random roles—some of which seemed like they should’ve gone to any of the actual current cast. Meanwhile, the additions to the cast (Andrew Dismukes, Punkie Johnson, and Lauren Holt) barely made a ripple. Lauren Holt, in particular, was so underused you might’ve missed her entirely.

And then there’s the stunt casting. Jim Carrey’s stint as Joe Biden fell flat—loud, rubbery, and nothing like Biden, it just didn’t work. Alec Baldwin was still doing Trump. Throw in a rotating door of guest stars leading the political cold opens and the result was a show that often didn’t even feel like SNL. In one particularly telling opener, 80 percent of the performers weren’t even cast members.

Speaking of cold opens… rough. Not funny, not fresh, and definitely not subtle. They were often long, overloaded with celebrity impressions, and totally lacking in bite. The show seemed to completely ignore Biden post-election, much like it did with Obama, and instead redirected its political fire at Ted Cruz. Aidy Bryant’s version of Cruz—beard and all—was more novelty than satire.

Weekend Update also sagged. Despite some standout “joke swap” moments between Colin Jost and Michael Che, the duo admitted in interviews they were basically phoning it in as head writers at this point. That lack of leadership trickled down into the writing, which was often uninspired and over-explained. Sketches leaned heavily on clunky exposition—pointing out jokes that had already been made, often killing whatever humor was left.

So what did work?

Well, Ego Nwodim had a surprisingly strong year, stepping up in both lead and supporting roles. Chloe Fineman continued to impress with her impressions, even if not every character landed. And as always, Kenan Thompson remained a steady presence, though even he seemed to be stuck in a loop of reaction shots and yelling “No!” in various sketches.

One of the weirdest aspects of the season? The audience. Due to COVID restrictions, they were mostly made up of masked, socially distanced first responders—not exactly the ideal raucous comedy crowd. It wasn’t until the finale that the show returned to full capacity, and suddenly everything felt better. The jokes landed. The energy was higher. It’s almost like having an actual audience helps.

By the final episode, even the show seemed to realize how far off course they’d gone. The cold open essentially apologized for how bad the season had been. But by then, the damage was done.

Season 46 wasn’t a creative disaster on the level of SNL’s worst years—but it was a foggy, sleepwalking stumble of a season that left fans and critics alike wondering, “Is anyone actually steering this thing?”