Scarlett Johansson Gets Her Apology on Saturday Night Live Season Finale

May James Austin Johnson spend his summer alternating between sage cleanses and cold plunges, whatever he needs to do to rid himself of Donald Trump‘s neck glue and the psychic cost of bringing our President to satirical life. His Trump lasted two thirds of the cold open on stage, bragging about his new $400 million Qatar plane and his big Boeing deal with the Saudis. “Get me to Allah’s country,” he said, land of oil and money and people forbidden from hating him. And then without warning, Johnson’s Trump gave up on the sketch, breaking the fourth wall to sit in the audience. “See you again in the fall,” he said, “if we still have a country.”

Scarlett Johansson was our final host of the season, and she had her eyes on retribution for the indignities rained down upon her by Michael Che on her last visit. But first, she delivered a sunny monologue in which she showed off her pipes to the tune of Billy Joel‘s “Piano Man.” Bowen Yang joined her for the second verse, followed by the entire cast—minus the Weekend Update hosts, who in a perfect world she’d have duct-taped together in Staten Island ferry boat as punishment for their middle school-esque shenanigans. “It lasted forever,” Johansson and crew sang of the 50th season, “we did it together, and we got to do it with you.” Cheers to the cast, whose adrenal glands must be blasted after the very high high of the grand anniversary celebration and the subterranean low of putting on a comedy show after the 2025 election results.

Mike Myers made his mark on 50. His Elon Musk was one of the true highlights of the season. Perhaps the conceit of his elevator reunion with Kenan Thompson‘s Kanye West was better than the sketch itself. But it allowed for a claustrophobic pairing of Myers with the man who made him turn an even whiter shade of pale 20 years ago during that Hurricane Katrina telethon. “You just had to stand there looking stupid,” Thompson’s Ye reminded him. “So what are you up to now?” asked Myers. “Oh, me? I’m in the KKK now.” Myers looked almost as awkward and uncomfortable as he did back then, desperate not to be captured in a selfie or remain trapped in the elevator when Ye’s nitrous oxide hit.

Yang playing a bruh will never get old. His push-ups. His leering. His neck being smothered by Gina Gershon‘s lips. His pizza boxes and leather couches and “tendies” in the air fryer of his dirtbag apartment. “He just dials up the gay for clout,” Heidi Gardner assured a crushing Johansson. (I did love Gardner and Ego Nwodim wrongly guessing that her crush was on Michael Longfellow or, as they called him, “creepy creepy Longfellow.”) “Scarlett, Scarlett, my Jurassic harlot,” Yang purred to Johansson, before Yang-banging her in the control room. His punching a hole in the wall before sneering “thanks for inventing AI by the way” was top shelf chode.

Bad Bunny, the most charismatic man alive, was the musical guest.

Finally, it was time for Colin Jost and Michael Che to indulge in their beloved joke swap, in which the boys give each other jokes to read without any pre-warning. Che tries to get Jost to say the N-word (that dumb Nick Kerr bit got him just about there), and tonight kept his foot on Jost’s neck about him fiending for Lorne Michaels’ job. Jost feeds Che lines about what a creep he is with women, and tonight made him read an apology to his wife for daring to compare her to CostCo roast beef on their last joke swap. Che tried to sound contrite reading his script: “The fact is, I’m jealous, because I’ve never even seen a human vagina, and notice I said human, because I once spent the summer on a farm…”

Keep your jokes, fellas. And leave us with Nwodim‘s Miss Eggy, back with another beef with food. This time her stink was with the airplane industry. “Can’t even have a whole can of soda, stingy ass,” she said, strutting back and forth in front of Jost and Che where she belongs. “Wanna hand me a dried-ass piece of Biscott? More like you about to piss a Bis off.”

When Jost tried to keep her on track, Nwodim silenced him. “Colin please, I’m eating,” she insisted. Now this is 50.