Fan-favorites return for SNL's 50th anniversary special
Fan-favorites return for SNL's 50th anniversary special
February 17, 2025 | 3:28 PM GMT
Characters like "Debbie Downer" and "Drunk Uncle" were brought back for the "Saturday Night Live" 50th anniversary episode on Feb. 16.
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Yahoo
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Billy Crystal on His Late Manager, David Steinberg: 'He Was One of a Kind'
If an experienced writer of obituaries would write the story of David Steinberg's life and career, it would be impossible for him to capture the total portrait of one of the most unique people I have ever known. If this feels like a speech at a memorial, chances are you won't be there, so here goes. For 48 years, this hilarious, outrageous (and pardon me, David), sensitive man who never wore socks was my manager, confidant, friend and ultimately family member. More from The Hollywood Reporter Edgar Wright, Guy Pearce, Keith Richards, Gale Anne Hurd, Stephen Elliott Pay Tribute to "Truly Iconic" Terence Stamp: "The Most Mesmerizing Eyes" Joe Caroff, Designer of the James Bond 007 Logo, Dies at 103 Terence Stamp, Brooding Legend of British Cinema, Dies at 87 David came to L.A. from Milwaukee, where he was born in 1943. After an academic career second to everyone and with his natural sense of humor, big personality and ability to bullshit with the best of them, he began a successful career in public relations. He would represent Peter Sellers, Sammy Davis Jr. and many others before I hired him to do my publicity when I started on Soap back in 1977. After getting to know my managers, who were considered the gold standard for comedy management — Jack Rollins, Charlie Joffe, Buddy Morra and Larry Brezner, whom I had signed with back in 1974 — he was asked to join the firm and leave behind the PR world. He was a natural fit and soon was sharing the workload for not only my career but also for my great friend Robin Williams. He was so sharp and quick. When I started to play around with an imitation of Fernando Lamas, I would call David in his office as Fernando and we'd have a conversation about Esther Williams and everyone else in show business. This is where 'You Look Mahvelous' started, and it ultimately became a popular character and catch phrase when I was on SNL in 1984-85. When Buddy retired and Larry focused solely on producing films, David protected Robin and me like one of those dogs in The Omen. His great sense of humor had us on an equal playing field at times. He would go on the road with us, watching our shows, taking notes, writing jokes (without our asking most times), but he was essential to our well-being on and off the stage. We'd overlook it when he'd have eaten the food in our dressing rooms before we arrived, and then not complain when he cleared a table of the plates, glasses and silverware before we were done eating the few scraps that were left. In 1989, he traveled to Moscow with me when I became the first American comedian to perform in the then Soviet Union for HBO's Midnight Train to Moscow. He had to deal with the KGB every day and constantly negotiated with the Russian liaisons who didn't live up to the things we had agreed to. Sound familiar? We were shooting a night scene in front of the Kremlin and the lights that we had paid for to be on, weren't. I saw David talking with a scary looking man, and suddenly the lights came on. I asked him what did he say to the man? He replied, 'I asked what would it take to turn them on? And he told me, so I gave him $500 and a dual cassette boom box.' We had to bring a food truck from England to the USSR stocked with a cook and good food for two weeks as the Chernobyl disaster had tainted much of the food supply, and the disappearance of the horse population made us wary of the New York Strip. So there was David, in the truck making spaghetti sauce and pasta for our Russian crew, who looked at David with amazement while he was feeding them food they had never seen before. We visited Lenin's tomb together, and with a stern Russian security guard watching us, he whispered loud enough for him to hear, 'His foot moved.' We were encouraged to make a hasty exit. He made trips to Afghanistan and Iraq with Robin to entertain the troops, frightened by the dangerous landing approach and takeoffs the plane had to make but joyous in the reaction of the troops to Robin. He didn't just watch, he also had many a great conversation with the soldiers himself. He put together the writing staffs for all nine of my Oscar hosting appearances and was in the wings with me and Bruce Vilanch and Robert Wuhl and later the great Jon Macks to monitor the show and hopefully come up with new lines if the opportunity presented itself. He, Bruce and Robert were with me in 1992 when Jack Palance did the one-armed pushups and we abandoned our plans and came up with jokes the rest of the evening. That team, David included, earned an Emmy for that show. We toured the States and Australia together twice, once with 700 Sundays, my Broadway show, and the other a 35-city concert performance tour. No job was too small, no job too big. It was David who delivered good news, and it was David who had to tell me that Robin and Larry Brezner, people we both loved, had passed away. He was one of a kind. As Whoopi Goldberg said about David, 'There was nobody more pointed, more funny and more loving than David. Through all my years watching Billy and Robin and David interact at Comic Relief, I recognized what he meant to their careers and more importantly, to them personally.' For Janice and I, he was a trusted relative. To my daughters, he was a beloved uncle. His talents were enviable to our fellow artists. No manager had the 'chops' that Steinberg had. Today there are management firms with big staffs and divisions for personal appearances, books, movies, social media, etc. David, to his last days, was a one-man band. He learned every day how to keep up with the new demands of the business even though he never quite mastered how to use his cell phone. He was joyous and proud when good things happened. He was caring and soothing and honest when things went the wrong way, and like a manager yelling at an umpire who didn't get the call right, he'd know how much arguing and cursing he could get away with before he would get tossed. He represented the great Bette Midler, who said, 'I adored him. He was wry, cynical and hilarious, yet pretty much a gentleman, all things considered. I looked forward to every meeting because I knew I was going to laugh my head off, although he was a terrific hand holder, too. He'd seen it all, at least twice, and was completely unfazed by anything that the business threw at him. The end of an era.' Bette summed it up so perfectly. My 'OG' managers, Jack Rollins, Charlie Joffe, Buddy Morra and Larry Brezner, are all gone, and now David is, too. They represented an era in comedy, from Woody Allen to Nichols & May, Dick Cavett, Tom Poston, Robert Klein, Martin Mull, Paula Poundstone, Martin Short, David Letterman, Robin and myself, and now for me there is a black hole, a space that will never be filled. He died after a long and difficult negotiation with cancer early Saturday morning. If I was able to tell him it was also the day Babe Ruth passed away, I know he'd say, 'So I get second billing?' He had a beautiful family. His wife, Brynn Thayer, is a fine actress and now a playwright, strong and hilarious herself, she was the perfect match for his personality and sometimes inappropriate jokes. She fought endlessly for him as his health declined, and her love for him was unparalleled. His son Mason, now a terrific comedy writer and producer, learned from his dad the art of writing a joke with a purpose, and I'm sure that kind of warm irreverence will be passed down to his son, Owen, David's only grandchild whom he loved more than he could ever say. His sister, Sari, and his goddaughter, Molly, were also great loves of his life. There are countless stories and anecdotes I could choose from to end this, but I decided to paraphrase what the great writer John O'Hara said about his friend George Gershwin upon his passing. 'George Gershwin died on July 11, 1937, but I don't have to believe it if I don't want to.' David Steinberg, my manager my friend, died on Aug. 16, 2025, but I don't have to believe it if I don't want to.' Reader, I'm sorry if you never got to meet him or know him, and to those of you who did … well, all you can say is this really stinks. 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a day ago
Devo's misunderstood art-rock legacy explored in new documentary
NEW YORK -- You know the band Devo, right? The guys with the funny red plastic hats and jumpsuits? The New Wave musicians behind the silly 'Whip It' video? They had that odd, spiky '80s vibe? Well, it turns out you may not know as much as you think. The new Netflix documentary 'Devo' is an eye-opening examination of an Ohio-born art-rock band that argues they were perhaps the most misunderstood band on the face of the planet. It debuts on the streaming service Tuesday. 'We were trivialized and pigeonholed,' co-founder Gerald Casale tells The Associated Press. 'This documentary allows us to talk about what we were thinking and what we are motivated by to create what we created.' Directed by Chris Smith, 'Devo' uses archival footage and interviews to trace the band's beginnings, rise and fall, with cameos from fans like David Bowie, Iggy Pop and Neil Young. Devo introduced themselves to the world in 1977 by making a frenetic version of the Rolling Stones' 'I Can't Get No) Satisfaction,' which earned them a crucial slot on 'Saturday Night Live.' On stages, they would wriggle like worms or dress like the guys from 'Ghostbusters.' They released their Brian Eno-produced debut, 'Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo!,' in 1978 and reached platinum status with 1980's 'Freedom of Choice,' which featured 'Whip It,' a hit just as their label was getting ready to drop them. But behind the odd neck braces and knee pads were powerful art and literary ideas about where the country was going. They named themselves after the idea that modern society was entering a process of 'devolution.' 'We were seeing a world that was the antitheses of the idealized, promised future ginned up in the '50s and '60s.' Casale says in the movie. 'What we saw was regression.' The nucleus of the band was formed from tragedy: Casale and Mark Mothersbaugh met at Kent State University, where they lived through the 1970 killing of four unarmed anti-war student protesters by the National Guard. That tragedy forged in the pair an antiestablishment, anti-capitalist protest, mixing lofty art history with pop culture. They admired Dadaism and Andy Warhol. The factories of Akron inspired their gray overalls and clear plastic face masks — portraying cogs in a machine like in the art movie 'Metropolis.' 'We had a meta-approach,' Casale tells the AP. 'It was a multimedia, big idea approach. Music was an element, a layer, a dimension, but it was connected to this big worldview.' Part of Devo's strength was its visual component and their videos were drenched with political commentary. The upbeat 'Beautiful World' featured footage of police violence, the KKK and bombings, while 'Freedom of Choice' warned against the dangers of conformity. The song 'Whip It' was written after reading Thomas Pynchon's 760-page postmodern sci-fi tome 'Gravity's Rainbow.' The video — featuring cowboys drinking beer, dangerous gunplay and assault — was actually mocking President Ronald Reagan and his macho brand of conservatism. Members of Devo — which also included Mark's brother, Bob, Gerald's brother, Bob, and Alan Myers — performed on TV and chatted with talk show hosts like David Letterman but their satire never seemed never to break through. 'Nobody wanted to hear us talking about the duality of human nature and the dangers of groupthink and the atrophication of people being able to think logically and think critically,' Casale says. 'It was like, 'That's a bummer. Just tell us about drugs and sex.'' Rock has always needed bands like Devo, a corrective to the corporate machine. You can see an echo of Devo when M.I.A. raised her middle finger during the Super Bowl halftime show in 2012. The members of Devo cite such bands as Rage Against the Machine and System of a Down as keeping the flame alive. 'The only thing you can hope is that it will create an awareness and get rid of complacency, but it doesn't seem to have done that in the past,' Mothersbaugh tells the AP. 'I always tried to be optimistic that devolution was something that was going to be corrected and that our message would be not necessary at this point, but unfortunately it's more real than ever.' After Devo, Casale directed music videos and commercials, while Mothersbaugh scored movies and TV shows such as 'Pee-Wee's Playhouse,' 'The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou,' 'Rugrats' and 'Hello Tomorrow!' There are signs of optimism when members of Devo play live these days. Mothersbaugh says he sees a lot of young people, who have used their smartphones to bypass media gatekeepers. 'We see a lot of people that look like us, with gray hair out there in the audience. But there's also, there's also a lot kids, which is kind of surprising to me, but I think it's only because they have this thing in their hand that they sometimes use to their advantage.' Devo are set to hit the road later this year in a co-headlining tour with the B-52's. The Cosmic De-Evolution Tour will kick off Sept. 24 in Toronto and wraps Nov. 2 in Houston. You may think of Devo as New Wave or early electronica or synth-pop. but they see themselves differently: 'We were true punk, meaning we questioned illegitimate authority and we stayed in our own lane and did our thing, remaining true to our vision,' says Casale. 'That's punk.'
Chicago Tribune
a day ago
- Chicago Tribune
Naperville's Bob Odenkirk talks about being an everyman action hero — and a possible Disco Demolition movie
As with his iconic comedy sketches for 'Saturday Night Live' or 'Mr. Show,' just give actor and son of Naperville Bob Odenkirk a moment with an idea and he'll come up with a premise unique and funny enough to steal attention. It shouldn't surprise anyone that the writer who helped bring Chris Farley as Matt Foley to life could figure out the secret sauce to Hollywood stardom, even in the unlikely world of action movies. In town recently to promote his new movie 'Nobody 2,' Odenkirk, who produced and stars in the film, talked about his dramatic turn to grittier roles, first in FX's 'Fargo' series and then as the scheming Saul Goodman in 'Breaking Bad' and 'Better Call Saul.' Being able to find the funny in those characters helped him find the balance between dark humor and extreme violence in the original 'Nobody' (2021). 'I'm not a handsome guy, or a young guy,' Odenkirk, 62, said recently in a conference room overlooking North Michigan Avenue. 'I think I work well on the screen as a regular guy who has a certain amount of pressure he's under.' In the second installment of the franchise, Odenkirk returns as Hutch Mansell, the mild-mannered suburban husband and dad with a dark past stumbles into trouble while taking his family on vacation. On cue, he releases his pent-up rage on irredeemable bad guys in a satisfying comic wave of cathartic violence that often leaves him just as battered and injured as his victims. Veteran actors Christopher Lloyd, Connie Nielsen and RZA return from the first film, while Colin Hanks and Sharon Stone join the new film as villains. While the fights in the films are highly choreographed, Odenkirk's Mansell is as far as you can get from invincible killing machines like Keanu Reeves' John Wick, or Matt Damon's Jason Bourne. When Mansell takes a punch to the face, is stabbed or shot, you can see Mansell writhing in agony in a way most movie heroes never would. It's something that Odenkirk specifically saw in the early stages of his character. 'I want to play a guy who, in the middle of the fight, when you cut to his face, looks worried, scared, unsure of himself — because all of those guys are sure of themselves,' he said. 'Jason Statham, Liam Neeson, they are utterly, 100% sure that they're gonna win this fight.' 'And my guy,' his voice rising, 'is in the middle of the fight, he's hurting, he's limping, he's holding his side and seems to be getting a little bit weaker and in his eyes looks like 'Oh my god! I'm in trouble.' And I thought there's something I can contribute to this genre.' Audiences responded positively toward Odenkirk's grim turn and the over-the-top violence in the first film, which earned $57 million worldwide from a $16 million budget. The experience of jumping from being a writer of edgy and irreverent skit humor to full-on action star, albeit an older one, has been somewhat of a surreal experience for the Second City alum, whose Midwestern roots makes it hard for him to accept being the center of an action franchise. Bliss for Odenkirk is returning to town, visiting family in the area and seeing as many Cubs games as he can fit in. 'I never saw myself as this, as the lead and I never pursued it. It just came to me,' he insisted. Odenkirk added that he was hoping to make a personal film that takes place during his teen years in the late 1970s — about the infamous Disco Demolition Night at Comiskey Park in 1979. Odenkirk, who starred in an episode of Comedy Central's 'Drunk History' featuring the riot, says he's eager to make a film based on the raucous event that he co-wrote with his good friend, the late Chicago actor Jim Zulevic. Odenkirk and Zulevic's take on the history is more of a lighthearted fun teen romp and a showcase of shock jock Steve Dahl on a wild and unexpected summer night, rather than the ignominy that the night would come to represent to some. 'I feel good about that movie and I like it a lot,' Odenkirk said. 'It's really about kids and getting so swept up in that night and it's about Steve Dahl and his story, which is a fun story and a rebellious character, funny to follow around. And of course it's about an event that just got out of control. I mean, it's really a funny story.' Odenkirk says any attempts to get it made have faced pushback from film studios uncomfortable with stories taking place in the past. 'Hollywood is afraid of period pieces because they feel like kids today would be like 'I don't really know what you're talking about,'' he said. 'I think Hollywood is a little too gun-shy about period pieces. It's fun to go back to another time.' Today in Chicago History: Disco Demolition NightWhile the 1979 uproar at the old Sox Park has since become a cultural touchstone as a signal of the end of the carefree and commercial disco era, recently many have shared darker reflections based on the event's perceived anti-Black or anti-gay bias against disco. But don't count Odenkirk, who was about the age of most of Dahl's rabid young fans at the time. Odenkirk believes the event was more of a strike against the corporate control over music. 'There's always been this argument about Disco Demolition and that it was homophobic at its core. And while we address that in the movie, I don't perceive it as that being a core purpose for the event,' he said, calling it more of a lashing out by rebellious youth. 'I think it's hard for people to grasp how the record business and the radio business were different back then and the bosses of that business were in New York and LA. It was more of an anti-New York and LA thing than any of these other things that they are nailed with.'
