On ‘SNL,’ Jack Black Knew Best

For a show that prides itself on being, well, live, Saturday Night Live doesn’t usually thrive on engaging its in-studio audience. The machine of the long-running program doesn’t lend itself to spontaneity; any participation from the crowd is typically scripted.

But last night’s episode had a shaggier, looser vibe. Credit that to the host, Jack Black, and, in a surprise twist, last week’s musical guest, Morgan Wallen.

Wallen wasn’t actually present; the country musician created headlines last week when he bucked the tradition of sharing pleasantries during the goodbyes at the end of the night and abruptly walked off-stage straight to camera. The move was perceived as rude to the cast. Shortly thereafter, he posted a photo of his private jet to Instagram with the caption, “Get me to God’s country,” a seeming culture-war taunt that quickly became a meme.

In last night’s cold open, the SNL cast member James Austin Johnson, the show’s resident Donald Trump impressionist, responded to the dig. In character as the president, Johnson launched into a wandering monologue about Trump’s wide-reaching tariffs, which included targets such as the unpopulated McDonald Islands. SNL’s Trump envisioned the islands as a paradise inhabited by anthropomorphic Chicken McNuggets and a large, hula-skirt-wearing burger—a riff on the president’s well-documented love of McDonald’s. Holding up a poster of this fantasy, Johnson tossed off: “Get me to God’s country, right?”

The crowd roared knowingly, bursting in applause. “Remember that?” Johnson said, egging them on, as though the reference to Wallen was an inside joke shared by everyone there. The gag almost gave permission for the assembled group to get a little rowdier than usual.

Black’s monologue took up that challenge. The comic actor, who has maintained his goofy, rock-and-roll-loving persona his entire career, erupted into a guitar anthem about his return to hosting after a 20-year absence. He climbed stairs into a portion of the audience we don’t usually see, the group perched high above the set. He sat on a man’s lap, singing directly into his face “I bet this guy did not know he’d be on TV.” The man looked sheepishly at the camera as if to confirm that fact.

As Black traveled farther into the seats, he brought out a marching band to the delight of the guests, who started clapping along to the tune. Kieran Culkin and Bill Burr, co-stars in a new Broadway production of Glengarry Glen Ross, looked particularly charmed. They were apparently just there to enjoy the evening and suddenly ended up on-screen as if they were attending a sporting event.

Black’s participatory energy extended to his sketch work too. In “One Uppers,” Black joined cast members for a bit about college friends trying to impress one another with their respective virtue. Every time someone would brag about, say, giving up social media, thrifting a sweater, or going to a protest, the performer would break the fourth wall, turning to the camera with an overwrought pious expression, implicating viewers in the competition.

By the time “Weekend Update” came around, the audience seemed primed for some spontaneity. In a guest segment about the White House Correspondents’ Association’s cancellation of the comedian Amber Ruffin’s hosting stint at their annual dinner, Ego Nwodim commented on how she would handle the job. Instead of roasting politicians, she told the “Update” anchors Colin Jost and Michael Che, she would make fun of the food. As she strutted in front of the desk taking on the persona of “Miss Eggy,” she let loose with a series of intentionally hacky jokes and the swag of a Def Comedy Jam appearance. The audience was eager to play along—so eager that it actually yelled out replies when she started a call-and-response as part of her routine.

When she riffed on Cory Booker’s 25-hour-long filibuster, saying she’d had her “fill of bustas,” she proclaimed, “because these men ain’t what?” The crowd yelled “Shit!” before the word could get bleeped out. Nwodim was clearly surprised but also seemed a little thrilled, merrily noting that the show was going to get fined as Jost and Che howled with laughter behind her. It was a classic moment of live television—one that unexpectedly brought the performers and the audience just a little bit closer to each other.