SNL's first spinoff since _The Blues Brothers_, a dozen years earlier, is very much a product of its time. It's a loving snapshot of the end of an era; a time when a roving car full of scruffy-looking dudes could stumble upon a partied-out buddy, stuff him in the back seat and revive him through the power of prog rock and timely, enthusiastic headbanging.

Mike Myers and Dana Carvey, still so fresh-faced that they were expected back in Studio 8H after a mere forty days of filming, clearly live for their roles. As twin emcees, they're the joyful, easygoing masters of an itty bitty sphere of influence, but quickly turn wide-eyed and innocent when a suave corporate opportunist (Rob Lowe, in a perfectly-cast turn) comes knocking with a TV deal. That whole plot is as telegraphed as they come, an unmistakably simple blueprint, and the cast isn't above cracking a few meta jokes at its expense.

Really, we aren't here for the story anyway. It's all about the gags, quotes, skits and one-liners, which are scattered abundantly throughout. A continuous playground in that respect, fertile grounds for a hungry crew looking to stretch their wings. I've referenced this movie, exhaustively, for almost thirty years now. And, while all the old familiar bits still draw a big reaction, this is the first time I've noticed how culturally dated they're beginning to feel. In that sense, too, it's forever stuck in the early '90s.