See Timothée Chalamet Perform Bob Dylan Songs on ’SNL‘

One can both deeply admire Timothée Chalamet—his acting, his poetic bone structure, his MTA rizz—and also fear him appearing as SNL’s musical guest during A Complete Unknown’s press run. His take on Bob Dylan just earned him his second Oscar nomination; now, his third time hosting SNL, the 29-year-old was going to sing Dylan.

Would it be in costume? Would it feel like cosplay? Would it make Dylan fans cringe, and hope that the 83-year-old legend hadn’t stayed up to watch a young actor get himself all tangled up in “Tangled Up in Blue”? In his monologue, Chalamet forecast that he would serving Dylan deep cuts rather than greatest hits. “I’m so grateful Saturday Night Live is still doing weird stuff like this fifty years in,” he said. “They’re either really nice for letting me do this, or incredibly mean and this is all a big prank.”

Some Golden Globes jokes have wonderfully long tails. Thank Nikki Glaser for her quick bit about the pompous musicality of Chalamet’s name before she threw it out to Adam Sandler in the audience, daring him to run the actor’s name through his ribbity smackers. Sandler himself showed up on SNL Saturday to introduce the host’s first Dylan-esque musical performance: “Ladies and Gentlemen, I love him too,” said Sandler, cocooned in red puffer. “Timothée Chalamet!”

And that’s exactly what was so genuinely special about what happened next on stage. Chalamet didn’t deliver some imitation or parody. He wasn’t playing a great artist. He was making art—unpretentious, pulled from a deep and clear well. He started with “Outlaw Blues” of all things, his voice confident and contemporary. Chalamet may as well have been born in those sunglasses and hooded parka. He then dipped right into “Three Angels,” just a guy telling a story about the surreality of life. The show went to commercial break, and I found myself so genuinely moved and charmed that I had a dopey smile on my face.

Chalamet’s second at-bat musical performance was just as unexpected. The light caught the back of his stool, headstock of his guitar, and his mop of hair (the truest homage to Dylan). He sang “Tomorrow Is a Long Time,” and it was genuinely lovely.

None of this would have worked if Chalamet had been too self-serious or arrogant about the task before him. I imagine there will be many, like me, who buy a ticket to see his movie in a theater after last night. And if an impeccably executed press campaign can still push Academy voters, Chalamet might yet have a chance to pull out that acceptance speech he’s been itching to read.

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.”

Artists, keep making art.