Let’s be frank: Saturday Night Live has a recurring sketch problem. Or, perhaps more accurately, it had one. In its storied, sprawling history, the show has, at times, ridden certain comedic horses well past the finish line, then trotted them out for a few more laps just for good measure. Today, the landscape is different; the show is far less reliant on the same well-worn bits, a welcome evolution in a sketch comedy world that often prefers novelty.
Some recurring sketches were fantastic comedy bits, like Church Chat, Wayne’s World, and the Samurai sketches in the early years featuring John Belushi. Later, characters such as Pat, the Richmeister, and Goat Boy were a bit annoying when they reappeared. Some may have even tired of Gilly, the pesky adolescent creation of Kristen Wiig, or the many “Close Encounter” sketches that starred Kate McKinnon, Aidy Bryant, and Cecily Strong among others, and was written by Mikey Day and Streeter Seidell.
Let’s take a stroll down memory lane, or perhaps a stumble down a very familiar hallway, to examine the sketches that graced the hallowed 30 Rock stage more times than anyone really needed.
Is Repetition funny on SNL?
The Californians
Oh, “The Californians.” A true modern-era behemoth of repetition, this sketch, centered around melodramatic, accent-heavy soap opera denizens discussing traffic and freeways, graced our screens a staggering 14 times.
Co-created by Fred Armisen, Bill Hader, and James Anderson, it was a showcase for exaggerated West Coast vocal fry and ludicrous plot twists involving car accidents and poolside confessions. My take? Initially, it was a delightful, niche send-up of a particular L.A. archetype. Armisen, Hader, and Wiig committed to the bit with an admirable, almost religious fervor. But by the tenth iteration, the well had run dry. It became less about comedic invention and more about seeing how long they could keep the absurd accents going. A classic example of a good idea stretched to the point of translucency.
Sprockets
“Sprockets” Dieter, the enigmatic, minimalist German talk show host with his penchant for interpretive dance and monkeys, was a recurring character that truly captured the zeitgeist of a certain art-house pretension. Mike Myers, who also wrote the sketches, brought Dieter to life (or perhaps, un-life) a respectable 10 times. The humor was derived from Dieter’s bizarre pronouncements, his detached affect, and his signature catchphrases like “Now is the time on Sprockets when we dance!”
Was Sprockets funny? Absolutely, for a good stretch. Myers’ commitment was total, and the oddball aesthetic was genuinely hilarious in its absurdity. Did it deserve 10 outings? Perhaps a couple too many, but unlike “The Californians,” it never felt quite as grating, maintaining a consistent, if peculiar, charm.
Delicious Dish
Molly Shannon and Ana Gasteyer as NPR hosts Margaret Jo McCullen and Terri Rialto, discussing unappetizing food with a hilariously bland earnestness, appeared 9 times. Co-created by Shannon, Gasteyer, and writers Jim Downey and Paula Pell, this sketch found its comedic gold in the excruciatingly polite yet profoundly unappealing descriptions of potlucks and bake sales. The “schweddy balls” Christmas installment with Alec Baldwin is, of course, legendary.
For me, “Delicious Dish” was generally a win. The humor was subtle, character-driven, and relied on the performers’ exquisite control and deadpan delivery. It never aimed for gut-busting absurdity, but rather a slow, simmering comedic discomfort. It probably could’ve stopped at 7 and been perfectly fine, but I can’t really begrudge its extended run.
The Continental
Christopher Walken‘s suave, deeply creepy, and ultimately pathetic ladies’ man, The Continental, appeared 7 times. Written by Walken himself, alongside SNL writer C. K. Louis (Louis C.K.), these sketches featured The Continental attempting to woo his female guests (the camera, always) with increasingly unsettling charm and a bizarre array of snacks. Funny? Oh, hell yes. Walken is a national treasure, and his unique cadence and unsettling intensity made this sketch a masterclass in cringe comedy. Each appearance felt fresh because Walken is fresh, every single time. This is one instance where the repetition felt less like flogging a dead horse and more like witnessing a singular talent unpack new layers of delightful weirdness.
Fewer recurring sketches, please
It’s clear that the era of the endlessly recurring sketch, the one that would pop up every few weeks for an entire season, is largely behind us. Remember Debbie Downer or “The Lover’s” sketch? We don’t want to see things like that over and over, and over and over on SNL again.
The show’s current writing staff and cast seem to embrace a faster turnover of ideas, a more rapid-fire approach to comedic creation. This is, by and large, a positive development. While a truly great recurring sketch can be a comforting, hilarious touchstone, too often they devolved into predictable catchphrase delivery vehicles, sucking the air out of an episode. The shift away from over-reliance on these familiar bits allows for greater comedic exploration, keeps the audience on its toes, and ultimately, ensures that when a sketch does return, it feels earned, rather than obligatory. And for that, we can all breathe a collective sigh of relief.
