The Democrats had a great Saturday night. First, Selzer’s poll presents a dream scenario in which Vice President Kamala Harris was three points ahead of the former president Donald Trump in Iowa, everywhere. Then there was news that Harris would make a surprise appearance on the show Saturday night liveThat’s probably unpleasant news for Joe Rogan.
During the opening of the episode, Maya RudolphHarris privately craves guidance in the final stages of her campaign. “I wish I could talk to someone in the same situation as me,” she said before sitting in front of the “mirror” of the beaming vice president. The crowd’s laughter overwhelmed Harris’s first attempt at delivery, and then both women sat there looking at each other in surprise, waiting for the audience’s nearly minute-long ovation.
If Harris pretends she needs a pep talk, she gives a great one. “I’m just here to remind you that you’ve got this,” the real Harris said. “Because you can do what your competitors cannot do. You can open the door.” (For women, for history, for garbage trucks.) Oh, these two had a good laugh. “Now Kamala, take my palm-ala…” said Rudolph. There is something truly tender and warm flowing between these two in their wonderful exchange, like Rudolph is pouring all his reserves of energy and kindness into the 60-year-old candidate to ensure get this last leg. “Keep Kamala and Mang On-ala,” they promised each other. Harris then joined Rudolph on stage, and the two women linked arms, wearing matching black blazers, loose curls, and very demure, very delicate two-strand necklaces. Rudolph couldn’t have had a better role to play, and Harris couldn’t have had anyone better play her.
SNL there are forests of low-hanging fruit to contrast the sporting joy of Harris’s campaign with Trump’s increasingly cirrhotic final days. James Austin Johnson playing Trump in an orange, embroidered suit at a MAGA rally about the right to protect women from themselves. “That’s right, when you’re famous, they let you protect them,” he said. Johnson captures Trump’s distaste for work, for crowds, for his schedule, for the Midwest, for a microphone he can’t decide whether he wants to take to bed or pass out. “The last time I hated the mic this much, I tried to kill him. coin!” He roared. “Who cares, you don’t care, no one cares.”
