Where to go from the rush of that surprisingly potent set? All of Chalamet’s sketches were strong. If none burst forth as exuberantly as his Troye Sivan or Tiny Horse, he was still having a ball. At the Bounce House Studio, he luxuriated in a wig fit for a Real Housewife, wearing lime green from neck to toe. He challenged his bungee class of regulars to swim, do the Froggie, the troll walk, and, the audience gasped from the joke’s poor taste, the Jimmy Carter. Heidi Gardner and Chloe Fineman were soon bungee bombing him for mouthfuls of Cinnabon cake, and Chalamet ripped into class party pooper Michael Longfellow for being a “twig-ass, Twilight-ass bitch.”
Chalamet played God. He played a barista who thought himself the next Chris Rock. He farted in Sarah Sherman’s face to resuscitate her heart. He gave good AI voice alongside Bowen Yang. In my favorite sketch of the night, “If A Bunch of Dumb Little Dogs Acted and Talked Like People,” Chalamet donned a snout and ears and joined all the other cool dogs in the park. Inevitably Yang got the zoomies, Kenan Thompson yakked up grass, and Chloe Fineman’s girl poodle scooted by on her butt.
At the end of the night, Chalamet said goodbye wearing a Yankees jacket, alongside Lin Manuel Miranda in a Warriors sweatshirt. In the strong cold open, Miranda’s Alexander Hamilton rhythm —“I know one thing, in America, we will never have a King”—was interrupted by James Austin Johnson taunting him as President Trump. “Oh look at Lin, he got tricked into coming here and now he’s frozen on stage,” said Johnson. “Look at Lin, look how bad he wants to do a rap.”