Neng Nana
For over four decades, Saturday Night Live has served as more than just a television program; it is the ultimate proving ground for American comedy. As the show navigates a rapidly changing media landscape, the dynamic between its departing stars and its eternal anchors offers a rare, intimate look at the "dream factory" that is Studio 8H. Recently, at the Television Academy’s Emmy FYC event, Saturday Night Live stalwarts Kenan Thompson and Sarah Sherman, joined by recent alum Bowen Yang, sat down for a wide-ranging conversation about the weight of legacy, the evolution of comedy, and the profound, unspoken mentorship that keeps the show alive.
The "Dream Factory" and the Life Outside
For Bowen Yang, who joined SNL as a writer in 2018 before ascending to the cast, his departure this past December triggered a period of reflection. Initially, the transition away from the grueling, weekly grind of live television felt disorienting. However, it wasn’t until he began filming this year’s Las Culturistas Culture Awards with podcast partner Matt Rogers that the realization set in.
"When we did the culture awards, it reminded me very much of the dream factory that was SNL, just on a much smaller scale," Yang noted. "It broke open all these thoughts I’ve had about the show. I started to think about how comedy overall is in this interesting spot where it feels undervalued. People have a psychological need for comedy to cope with the reality of things. I watch SNL as a comfort now; it’s surreal watching it from the other side, but it’s amazing. It’s how I grew to love it."
For those who remain, the question remains: what does life look like beyond the walls of 30 Rockefeller Plaza? Kenan Thompson, who has been a fixture on the show for over two decades, openly admits to the melancholy that accompanies the inevitable exit of his peers.
"I’m always asking folks, what’s it like outside the walls?" Thompson asked, peering at Yang. For the veteran performer, the departure of cast members—particularly those who pour their heart and soul into the craft—feels like an empty nest. "My child has gone off to college, kind of thing. They come back, but it’s a different dynamic. I just assume everybody is going to stay forever because I’ve been allowed to do so."
A Chronology of Artistic Growth
The conversation traced the evolution of the SNL performer from "newbie" to "tenured player." The path, they agreed, is defined by a process of skill transfer.
For Yang, his time on the show provided the tools to execute complex, independent projects. "I would not have been able to do the Culture Awards without the skills I learned at SNL," he explained. Yet, he is quick to acknowledge that some performers are meant to remain. He points to Thompson as a singular force—a performer who has achieved a level of mastery that makes his presence at the show not just a tenure, but a necessity.
Sarah Sherman, currently in her fifth season, echoed these sentiments, noting the difficulty of balancing outside creative endeavors with the show’s relentless pace. "Kenan and Bowen did the unthinkable—they worked on big projects outside the show while simultaneously being on the show," she observed. She highlighted the grueling reality of the SNL schedule, where writers and performers are expected to generate fresh, "hard comedy" at a breakneck pace, often while navigating the anxieties of a world currently fixated on heavy, political, and dark subject matter.
The Mechanics of "Hard Comedy"
Lorne Michaels, the show’s legendary executive producer, frequently refers to the SNL standard as "hard comedy"—a joke-per-minute requirement that leaves little room for error. This pressure is what makes the show a crucible for talent.
"There are not that many things on TV that are hard comedy," Sherman said. "Because we have to generate so much new stuff every week, it’s hard not to wade a little into the darkness. You’re writing about what’s happening in the world, and it’s all you think about."
The trio discussed the internal "vetting" process of sketches—how an idea goes from a hallway observation to a polished piece of live television. They praised the influence of former cast member Fred Armisen, whom Thompson credited with teaching him how to document "bits" and turn them into scalable sketches. "Fred was the first person that helped me catch on to the fact that all our bits are sketch-worthy if you can find a way to expand it," Thompson remarked.
The "What Would Kenan Do?" Philosophy
The most poignant part of the discussion centered on Thompson’s role as the unofficial mentor of the show. For Sherman and Yang, Thompson is not just a co-worker; he is a standard-bearer for how to conduct oneself in a high-pressure environment.
"He’s never sweating," Sherman shared. "He’s so zen that it gives you perspective." She recalled a time early in her tenure when she mentioned being cold in the office; minutes later, a space heater appeared with a note from Thompson. This, she argued, is the "behavior modeling" that makes the show work.
Yang agreed, noting that Thompson’s influence is never didactic. "It’s never him pulling you aside and saying, ‘This is how you should do the job.’ It is by example, always." This includes everything from how to deliver feedback to how to advocate for one’s own material. The phrase "What Would Kenan Do?" has become a mantra in the writers’ room—a testament to his role in maintaining the show’s institutional culture.
Implications for the Future of SNL
As SNL looks toward its future, the conversation highlighted a shifting perspective on longevity. While the show has traditionally been seen as a stepping stone to film or sitcom careers, performers like Thompson are redefining what a career in sketch comedy can look like.
"I could do it forever, if that’s the case," Thompson stated, reflecting on his current relationship with the show. "Writing still stresses me out, but Saturday is cake now. It’s amazing."
The implications are clear: SNL is no longer just a training ground; for some, it is a career-long destination. The ability to "clock" the transition from a nervous performer to an elder statesman, as Yang described, is the key to the show’s endurance. Whether it is through the technical mastery of the "cold open" or the subtle, supportive camaraderie that Sherman and Yang describe, the show persists because of the community built behind the scenes.
As the interview concluded, the trio shared a lighthearted moment of mutual appreciation, underscoring the deep bonds that form in the trenches of live television. For viewers, the takeaway is simple: the magic of Saturday Night Live isn’t just in the sketches that make it to air, but in the enduring, quiet mentorship of those who stay to ensure the show remains a "dream factory" for the next generation.
Despite the challenges of the current comedy climate and the inherent pressures of live production, the spirit of "silly, silly" playfulness—as Yang and Thompson affectionately called it—remains the beating heart of Studio 8H. As long as that spirit is protected by those who understand its value, SNL will likely remain an essential, if surreal, fixture of the American cultural landscape.
Iffa Jayyana
Nana Muazin
