Conservative Outrage Finds Its Way to SNL’s Weekend Update
Late-night TV often serves as a mirror to the nation’s anxieties, and no show wields satire quite like “Saturday Night Live’s” Weekend Update. On May 10, Colin Jost and Michael Che stepped into the fray, poking holes in the latest right-wing outrage over Catholicism and cinema. Their segment skewered the conservative backlash to Cardinal Robert Francis Prevost—an American, Chicago-born prelate—ascending to the papacy. The label conservatives have seized on? “The woke pope.”
From the South Side of Chicago to the Vatican, Pope Leo XIV’s American roots became the butt of a wry Jost aside: “How woke can a 69-year-old man from Chicago really be?” It’s a question that, beneath the laughter, exposes the strange contortions of modern U.S. culture wars—the way “woke” is now wielded as a bludgeon against anyone perceived as even remotely progressive or compassionate.
Recalling the days when the Catholic Church was deemed too rigid, the spectacle of right-wing commentators lambasting the pope for inclusivity feels like a sitcom in itself. For many Catholics and progressives alike, the notion of a “woke pope” says more about the critics than the subject—discomfort with any shift toward empathy, humility, or openness. As Jost, himself a Catholic, put it with comic self-awareness, “It’s a sin to be proud of the new pope, but here I am.” Such quips hit on a deeper truth: faith is not the antagonist here, but the politicization of faith for partisan purposes.
Trump’s Tariffs and the Culture of Retaliation
Beyond Vatican intrigue, SNL’s Weekend Update aimed its satire at another culture-war crusade: Donald Trump’s proposal for a 100% tariff on foreign-made films. You read that right—a tax targeting Hollywood’s very lifeblood. In a year when movie studios are already grappling with streaming disruptions, declining theater attendance, and labor unrest, the idea of shutting out foreign fare seems not only outdated but comically self-defeating.
Hollywood’s response? Both confusion and anger. According to a Variety analysis, imposing such tariffs could choke off crucial revenue and creative exchange, especially for industries that thrive on global collaboration and diverse storytelling. As Harvard economist Jane Martinez points out, “A protectionist film policy would backfire, risking economic harm far beyond the entertainment sector.” Trump’s plan, which plays to the same isolationist instincts as his past trade wars, ignores the reality that American movies are global, with cast, crew, stories, and audiences spanning continents.
SNL’s Che and Jost distilled this absurdity into sharp one-liners. Che likened the plan to reopening Alcatraz—a symbol of both “horrible and beautiful, strong and miserable and weak”—all, he joked, “nicknames for Trump’s children.” Here, satire underscores a larger concern: the pettiness of turning film—or the criminal justice system—into platforms for political theater and personal vendetta. If history is any guide, protectionist stunts rarely deliver the cultural or economic renaissance their proponents promise.
“When outrage over a ‘woke pope’ or a Hollywood tariff becomes headline news, we’re seeing the culture wars writ large—where empathy and art are targets, not virtues.”
SNL’s Signature Blending of Satire, Pop Culture, and Political Critique
A closer look reveals that Weekend Update operates not just as late-night comedy, but as a cultural critique that resonates well beyond the NBC stage. That resonance was especially visible in Marcello Hernández’s segment as The Movie Guy, as he lampooned recent box office hits like “Sinners” and “A Minecraft Movie,” and teased the upcoming “Jurassic World Rebirth”—awkwardly mispronouncing Scarlett Johansson’s name as “Carley Sohanson.” When Colin Jost reminded viewers that Johansson is his wife, Hernández volleyed back, “And my wife is Rihanna!” Laughter, in the midst of all this political absurdity, becomes a unifying act—a reminder of shared values, humility, and human connection.
Consider the segment’s take on technology: Che’s mockery of an AI-generated image of Donald Trump dressed as the pope cut to a wider anxiety about misinformation and digital manipulation in public life. The distrust many feel for manufactured imagery is not unfounded. As digital deepfakes muddy public discourse, SNL’s lampooning creates space for healthy skepticism. According to a recent Pew Research Center study, nearly 60% of Americans worry that altered images are making political debate less factual and more emotionally driven.
The night’s jokes may have played for easy laughs, but the subtext was serious—art and humor as civic defense mechanisms, shielding society from the worst instincts of those who wield power for division rather than healing. SNL’s brand of irreverence, far from being just entertainment, is a tool for solidarity among those who believe empathy and truth still have a place at the table. It’s a legacy stretching back to the show’s early, Norman Lear-influenced years, reimagined for a new era of algorithmic spin and cable-news drama.
Empathy Versus Escapism: Why Satire Still Matters
Satire, at its best, reminds viewers that democracy is participatory, not passive. SNL’s latest Weekend Update, by drawing contrasts between compassion and cynicism, demands we ask hard questions about whose interests are being served by today’s culture wars. What does it say about our politics when a pope is berated for kindness? Or when the vitality of American film is threatened by dogma and trade sabers?
Real change has never come from silencing stories or barring artists. Historically, cross-pollination—whether of faith, film, or ideas—has bred resilience, not weakness. Tellingly, when SNL’s jokes cut through the spin, they offer more than a punchline. They invite viewers to reflect, challenge, and—in the best traditions of progressive activism—refuse to settle for a world where empathy is a punchline instead of a principle. The stakes, after all, are no laughing matter.
