The film has good — or at least flattering — intentions. That may be the problem. It is also, to an almost eerie degree, not funny.

What we get are a few paltry sketches that land flatly but are buttressed by clunky shots of the studio crew in hysterics. The forced convulsions only make the gags seem less funny and certainly incapable of producing a seismic cultural disturbance.

The film’s spirit of barely controlled anarchy brings an edge-of-the-seat tension to proceedings, and its restless energy is infectious... But for all the talk of gamechanging comedy genius, Saturday Night ultimately plays it rather safe.

Saturday Night is fun, but it’s too clean. I don’t think I’ve ever said this about a movie before: I think it needed to be more drug-f**ked.