July 8, 2012 by rapoulson
Yesterday, during my pre-work long run/trashy TV viewing, I stumbled across an SNL marathon which included the sketch “The Adventures of Michael Caine and Peter O’Toole” which was amaaaaazing, but it looks like NBC has done a pretty excellent job of making sure it’s not available online. I hate it when the Internet refuses to be everything I want it to be. Anyway, here is a tiny, tiny picture of it’s brilliance:
Bill Hader plays Michael Caine, Jude Law plays Peter O’Toole (while promoting a remake of a movie that originally starred Michael Caine), Rachel Dratch plays the Taco Hut employee and Kenan plays a guy named Gary (not Othello) who just wants to get to a strip club. Nothing really happens, they just wander around in drunken, British, brilliance. At one point O’Toole asks Rachel Dratch for “your finest Gin Lover’s pizza”.*
And it didn’t take me long before I was like, “I could make you a Gin Lover’s Pizza, sir. It would have ramps and asparagus and Meyer Lemon and ricotta…” And I would have to make it a year from now, because all those things just went out of season and now cost $1million…”
Anyway, the interesting thing about this sketch (or there may be no interesting thing about this sketch, I may just have found it oddly delightful while on the treadmill) is it has has the 12:55 timeslot in the Ashlee Simpson episode. Yeah. That one. The first one, where she effed up and did a hoedown. My days of watching SNL straight through have gone out the window, because Hulu exists and I got a life to live, so while Simpson was all people were talking about, I missed the glorious, The Adventures of Michael Caine and Peter O’Toole.
70% of the most uncomfortable weird shit on SNL has happened in the 12:55 sketch. 70% is probably also the percentage of my favorite things that have happened in a 12:55 sketch. 12:55 is for taking risks. 12:55 is for those sketches that have no reason to exist other than a bunch of kind of smart people were sitting in a room and got tired and silly. The kind of silly, warm brilliance you thought you achieved stoned, late at night in your freshman dorm. If the show started weak, 12:55 is going to blow (or be awesome in it’s awfulness). 12:55 blows a lot. But sometimes 12:55 is an homage to Coolio’s C U When U Get There.
There’s something to be said about sticking it out for the last five minutes. The last five minutes are when you surprise yourself. When I’ve taken gym yoga classes, there have been people who routinely hop off the mat as we start savasana. I understand if you have a thing, but I’m also completely sure my practice was exponentially more satisfying. I’ve been know to be guilty of hitting the “Cool Down” button on the occasional cardio machine five minutes early. I’ll be going a long comfortably, but I’ll be bored and be like “eh, you know what? Had enough.” But the last five minutes is for the uncomfortable weird shit. The last five minutes is where you get better, where your capabilities expand.
This week, I’m making a conscious effort to stick through the last five minutes of all things. Also, to watch more comedy and eat a fancy pizza. Except for not, because it’s going to be too hot to turn my oven on.
*Confession: I’ve lived in two of the greatest pizza cities in the world (Loyalties: NY-Ben’s, Chicago-Lou Malnati’s) but I still have cravings for that Pizza Hut Veggie Lovers pan pizza with the buttery crust.