SNL Legend Jim Downey on Trump Jokes & Epstein Bit

Jim Downey, a name synonymous with the sharp wit and incisive political satire of “Saturday Night Live,” stands as one of comedy’s most influential and yet, remarkably, most elusive figures. With a career spanning three decades at the iconic sketch comedy show, Downey has shaped an entire generation of humor, from crafting Chris Farley’s unforgettable “Chippendales Audition” to defining the show’s political landscape with impersonations like Dana Carvey’s George H.W. Bush and Will Ferrell’s George W. Bush. His recent emergence into the public eye, notably as the subject of the Peacock documentary “Downey Wrote That” and through rare interviews, offers a unique opportunity to delve into the mind of an SNL legend. Downey provides candid insights into the evolving nature of comedy, what makes humor about figures like Donald Trump resonate, the spontaneous brilliance behind his viral Jeffrey Epstein bit, and the lingering sketch ideas he still hopes to bring to life.

The Enduring Legacy of an SNL Icon

For many years, Jim Downey was the uncredited voice behind “Weekend Update,” famously collaborating with Norm Macdonald on a relentless comedic campaign against O.J. Simpson that ultimately led to both their dismissals from NBC. Despite this, Downey returned two years later and continued his tenure until his retirement in 2013. Lorne Michaels, the creator and executive producer of “Saturday Night Live,” has lauded Downey as the “voice” of the show and the “best political humorist alive.” Downey’s influence extends beyond writing, with occasional appearances on SNL and a memorable role in Adam Sandler’s “Billy Madison.” His recent documentary and acting roles in projects like Paul Thomas Anderson’s “One Battle After Another” have brought his unique comedic perspective to a wider audience, revealing a talent celebrated by fellow comedians like Conan O’Brien, John Mulaney, and Bill Hader.

Evolving Comedy: From Early SNL to Today

Downey’s long tenure at SNL, witnessing its evolution from its nascent years to a pop culture institution, provides a unique vantage point on how comedy has transformed. He notes that the early days of SNL felt like “walking into a virgin forest,” where almost everything presented felt new and groundbreaking. Decades later, much of that comedic ground has been covered. Downey expresses immense respect for more recent casts, highlighting performers like Bill Hader, Jason Sudeikis, Maya Rudolph, Kristen Wiig, Amy Poehler, Will Forte, and Kenan Thompson, who adapted to an evolved comedic landscape. He observes that societal sensibilities have “tightened,” meaning sketches that were acceptable in the ’70s or ’80s might not even make it past a read-through today. The challenge, he suggests, is not just what people find funny, but what they are comfortable being *seen* laughing at in a live audience.

This shift was notably highlighted in the “In Memoriam” segment Downey helped craft for “SNL50.” What began as a tribute to lost writers and performers morphed into an acknowledgment of characters and sketches that have not aged well. This material, deemed “retired forever,” sometimes bordered on offensive in a “comedy-offensive” way, while other pieces simply wouldn’t resonate or might genuinely upset modern audiences. Downey suggests that this indicates a paradoxical scenario where, despite less conceptual freedom, there was arguably more artistic freedom to take risks in earlier decades.

Reflections on SNL50

Returning for “SNL50” was a poignant experience for Downey. He spent most of his time working with Bill Murray on a segment for the Radio City Music Hall show, which unfortunately limited his opportunities to reconnect with old friends during the anniversary weekend. The magnitude of the event, with an after-party hosting some 1,100 people, left him feeling a mix of sadness and emotion. He likened the feeling of culmination at the 50th anniversary to the sentiment he experienced in May 1980, when many of the original cast and crew, including Lorne Michaels, departed the show, signaling what felt like an end of an era.

Behind the Scenes with Comedy Legends

In a rare moment of word association, Downey offered insightful glimpses into his relationships and observations of fellow comedy titans:

• Adam Sandler: Downey describes Sandler as SNL’s version of Jerry Lewis—wild, unpredictable, a unique blend of “real brilliance and occasional goofy, low-brow-ness.”
• Norm Macdonald: Downey considered Macdonald’s sense of humor the closest to his own. He characterized Macdonald as incredibly principled, fearless, and possessing high standards for comedy, living to make people laugh but always with integrity.
• David Letterman: Downey admired Letterman’s willingness to pursue humor that he loved, even if it didn’t guarantee huge laughs. He highlighted Letterman’s keen attention to language, his Midwestern fondness for unique phrases (like the “variable-speed drill” joke), and his mastery of dry wit.
• Lorne Michaels: Downey deems Michaels “indispensable,” emphasizing his role in protecting and nurturing both writers and performers. He lauded Michaels’ skill in negotiating with the network, describing him as brilliant and charming. However, Downey noted that Michaels faced a unique challenge with NBC executive Don Ohlmeyer, who, unlike most network executives, was impervious to Michaels’ charm and wit.

The Future of SNL Post-Lorne

The question of who will succeed Lorne Michaels at the helm of SNL is one that many ponder. Downey expresses doubt that anyone could truly replace Michaels, given his unique blend of comedic stature, administrative acumen, and ability to navigate network politics. While names like Tina Fey and Seth Meyers are often suggested, Downey worries that no one possesses Michaels’ particular “mystique” to carry the immense weight of the show. He recalls how Michaels transformed SNL from a “shitty location” on late Saturday night television in the 1970s into a cultural phenomenon, where people would interrupt parties just to gather around the TV. Downey remembers the heady experience of hearing strangers recite SNL sketches the morning after, a testament to the show’s immediate impact.

Navigating Political Satire: Trump, Gore, and Government Comedy

Downey retired from SNL in 2013, just before Donald Trump’s significant political ascent. However, he notes that Trump had been a comedic figure for them decades prior, recalling writing Trump sketches as early as the mid-1980s. Downey believes that effective political comedy requires keeping personal animus out of the writing, as anger can detract from the humor. He admits he was “sick of him before he even ran for president” and praises James Austin Johnson’s impression for its accurate portrayal of Trump’s “insane mind excursions.” Downey occasionally offers ideas to SNL, such as a “Weekend Update” joke for Michael Che regarding Trump’s boasts about Black unemployment: “I’m pretty sure during slavery times it was zero.”

When asked about a politician he wished he could have satirized more, Downey pointed to Al Gore. He found Gore to be a “strange, interesting character” and a more nuanced and potentially funnier subject for satire than George W. Bush, who he felt too easily fell into a “dumb hick” stereotype.

Downey was “shocked” by the informal nature of government entities, specifically citing the DHS quoting his “Billy Madison” monologue in a social media post defending ICE. He emphasized the importance of decorum in government communication, even when attempting humor.

The Art of the Laugh: Breaking and Pushing Boundaries

On the topic of “breaking” character during sketches, Downey firmly states he was “never a fan.” He believes performers must “earn the right” to break by consistently committing to the material. He cited Bill Hader’s struggles to maintain composure during John Mulaney’s surprise “Stefon” jokes as an example of earned breaking, and Phil Hartman’s single instance of breaking when a set collapsed around him. In contrast, Downey found frequent breaking, like that of Horatio Sanz, to be “cheap” and an “easy laugh.” Norm Macdonald shared this sentiment, likening such humor to “Russian slaw,” where “the cheap stuff can drive the good stuff out of circulation.”

Downey and Macdonald were in sync about the “degree-of-difficulty” in comedy—that there’s more satisfaction in making an audience laugh at something challenging, akin to getting a teenager to enjoy sea urchin sashimi rather than banana cream pie. Their preferred “Update” jokes were those that made the audience feel “a little bad for laughing,” pushing against comfort zones without being gratuitously cruel or dirty. The sustained barrage of O.J. Simpson jokes, for instance, became funny not just for the content, but for the sheer relentlessness. Downey champions comedy that challenges, disdaining pandering and emphasizing SNL’s general success in maintaining its standards against shortcuts or overly sentimental humor.

The Viral Jeffrey Epstein Bit

One of Downey’s most recent viral moments came from his appearance on Conan O’Brien’s podcast, where he improvised a now-famous Jeffrey Epstein bit. The segment unfolded organically; Downey was prompted to have an “I am ____ to be Conan’s friend” line ready. He came up with “I am entirely unashamed” and, on the way to the studio, realized he needed a justification for such a strong statement, leading to the spontaneous, darkly humorous mention of Epstein. He anticipates returning to Conan’s podcast to discuss Norm Macdonald and possibly revisit the Epstein topic, highlighting the bit’s unexpected and far-reaching impact.

Beyond SNL: Acting and Unmade Sketches

Beyond his writing, Downey has explored acting, including a role in Paul Thomas Anderson’s “One Battle After Another” as a member of an exclusive white supremacist group. He approached the role by playing the character “straight,” trusting Anderson’s direction and focusing on delivering what the acclaimed director envisioned, without an ego about performing. He noted that while some lines were scripted, other elements allowed for exploration, but he was not “winging it.”

Today, Downey’s comedic energy finds outlets in “goofy emails or texts” with old friends and fellow writers like George Meyer and Jack Handey, engaging in a decades-long running joke of sending mock legal threats. While he has personal interests and old ideas in notebooks, he remains open to a guest writing week at SNL, particularly for political material where Lorne Michaels still trusts his perspective. However, he acknowledges Michaels’ potential skepticism about his ability to write general sketches appealing to an 18-year-old audience.

Among the sketches he still wants to make is an “instructional video about texting while driving *responsibly*,” a darkly comedic take that he believes would likely face “standards issues” today due to its lighthearted approach to a serious problem. He contrasts this with earlier “standards battles” over language, noting how the reasoning for content restrictions has shifted from obscenity to concerns about offense or appropriateness, often leading to notes like “There’s nothing funny about X.”

Conclusion

Jim Downey’s journey through the landscape of American comedy is a testament to the enduring power of sharp writing, critical observation, and a willingness to push boundaries. From the hallowed halls of “Saturday Night Live” to his candid reflections on evolving comedic sensibilities, his insights offer a rich understanding of what it takes to make people laugh—and why that process is constantly changing. Whether dissecting the humor of political figures, advocating for comedic integrity, or simply sharing the joy of a well-crafted joke with old friends, Downey remains a pivotal voice, reminding us that true comedy often thrives in the space where comfort is gently, yet effectively, challenged.