Lorne (2026) is released during a seismic moment in the history of “Saturday Night Live,” as the legendary sketch show has now reached its 50th anniversary. Lorne Michaels is not only the show’s creator, but the sole creative producer for the majority of its run; the era in which he was absent was notoriously a challenging one. After countless articles, interviews, and well-reported pieces have been conducted about the mysterious, deep-voiced man who spotlighted a majority of the greatest comedians of the last five decades, is there anything new to say about Lorne Michaels? The truth is not really, but Morgan Neville’s entertaining documentary does offer a snapshot of Michaels’ creative process and more than a few compelling details that a less nuanced filmmaker wouldn’t think to include. It also helps that the film includes the input of many of the men and women who built, sustained, and survived “Saturday Night Live,” all of whom are very, very funny.
Given that it would be impossible for even a multi-part docuseries to encapsulate every single significant moment of “Saturday Night Live” history (or even the broad strokes), Neville makes the smart decision to frame “Lorne” around the production process of a standard episode. Despite all the cultural and technological changes since 1975, there’s little about the timeline of Michaels’ schedule that has changed. While the footage collected is from the most recent year of the show, and includes its current cast, “Lorne” compiles an impressive array of archive footage from the show’s various eras. It also draws in the voices of various participants who are able to voice their personal perspectives about what the experience meant to them.
While this may seem like a conventional way of approaching the material, Neville is clever in how he merges the different eras. The aim isn’t to simply provide a hagiography (even if that is what it often feels like), but to show how trends were developed and sustained. In some instances, it’s critical to see how Michaels adopted certain trends in the past, such as his decision to have all scripts written the week before airing, and to not reuse old pitches. However, there are also instances in which showing the contemporary process is a better hook, which only gets more interesting when delving into the past; although it’s amusing to think of how Michaels wrangled the cast of eccentric personalities that currently star on the show, it’s unthinkable to imagine the perseverance required to control a wilder ensemble that included Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, John Belushi, and Chevy Chase.
That Michaels is an intriguing and mysterious presence is perhaps the best thing that “Lorne” has in its favor, as from the offset he wouldn’t seem like the man who changed comedy. It’s at first that the talking heads support the idea that Michaels is much funnier than anyone would expect, and it’s to Neville’s credit that that is quickly proven to be true. Michaels clearly has little interest in being self-aggrandizing, and doesn’t seem particularly nostalgic. It probably wouldn’t be possible for someone in his position to not be constantly looking towards the future, which is the strongest point made by “Lorne” that other “Saturday Night Live” analysis pieces miss out on. Michaels never sought out to change culture or to make a statement, but rather found a platform for the funniest people of each respective era. Whether that meant spotlighting marginalized groups, dealing with controversial guests, responding to network pressure, or helping cast members through difficult personal periods, Michaels is framed as someone of convincing loyalty.
It’s ironically the exploration of any significant divisive moments in the show’s history that “Lorne” falls flat because it simply doesn’t have the capacity to go into much depth. An entire film could be made about the Sinead O’Connor backlash from the Catholic Church, the booking of Donald Trump, the firing of the 1985 cast, or the deaths of Chris Farley, John Belushi, and Phil Hartman. While Michaels’ resistance to being sentimental does make “Lorne” feel more authentic, it’s obvious that Neville isn’t entirely sure how to make a film that doesn’t acknowledge these moments. As a result, the perspectives given are secondhand; while it is emotional to hear Adam Sandler talk about Michaels’ response to Farley’s death, it’s not providing anything that hasn’t been addressed previously.
Context does come in handy for those familiar with certain major incidents in both “Saturday Night Live” history and the development of NBC, but “Lorne” does its best to offer a time capsule of the generational shifts. There’s surprisingly little said about the original run of the show, which may be because it has already been well-documented by other recent projects; Jason Reitman’s “Saturday Night” offered a dramatized portrayal of the show’s first taping, and this year’s documentary “I’m Chevy Chase and You’re Not” offered a balanced portrayal of the most notorious cast member. Unsurprisingly, it’s the generation from the early 21st century that has the most to offer because they have now reached the point in which they are the old guard of the comedy sphere; if nothing else, people like Tina Fey, Bill Hader, Seth Meyers, and Andy Samberg are all eloquent, and willing to offer amusing anecdotes.
“Lorne” does make a valiant effort to pierce Michaels’ private life, and often notes the distinctions between him and his guests; when compared to the wild social activities of some former cast members, Michaels has retained a healthy family life and seems to genuinely enjoy the show’s off-weeks. The withholding of details about Michaels’ family upbringing, and the tragedies included within that, is a trick that Neville has used quite a few times in previous celebrity documentaries in order to save the emotional wallup for the end. It’s a bit more effective in “Lorne” because it reflects the perspective of the cast, who seem to learn more about their mysterious boss with each passing day.
“Lorne” might disappoint anyone who was looking for a radical work of investigative journalism, but the simplicity with which Michaels presents himself does suggest he isn’t a subject that necessitated significant debate. He’s a staple who continues to treat his work as a real job, and his legacy will last far longer than any one graduate, episode, or sketch. If the primary theme of “Lorne” was appreciation, then it is a resounding success.
