She’s loud. She’s colorful. Honestly, she’s kind of a lot.
Since Sarah Sherman (often known by her stage name Sarah Squirm) joined the cast of Saturday Night Live in 2021, the show has felt... different. Not just "new cast member" different, but fundamentally shifted in its DNA. For years, SNL leaned heavily into political impressions and safe, polished sketches that felt like they were written for a specific kind of coastal elite. Then came Sarah.
With her neon mullets and body-horror sensibilities, she didn't just walk onto the stage at 30 Rockefeller Plaza. She kicked the door down.
The Chaos of Sarah Sherman on Saturday Night Live
You’ve probably seen her on Weekend Update. Usually, she’s there to "report" on a story, but within thirty seconds, she’s inevitably screaming at Colin Jost. It’s a bit. We know it’s a bit. But the way she relentlessly roasts Jost for being a "privileged white guy" or "looking like a thumb" feels surprisingly visceral. It’s an aggressive, confrontational style of comedy that SNL hasn't really embraced since the early days of Belushi or the weirdest fringes of the 90s.
She represents a massive pivot.
Before SNL, Sarah was a legend in the Chicago underground "alt" scene. Her solo shows were legendary for their use of fake blood, prosthetic limbs, and gross-out humor that made people genuinely uncomfortable. Most critics thought her style was too "indie" for network TV. They were wrong. She didn't tone it down for NBC; if anything, she found a way to weaponize the high production budget of Saturday Night Live to make her surrealism even more effective.
Think about the "Meatballs" sketch or the one where her eyes literally pop out of her head. That’s not traditional sketch writing. It’s performance art disguised as a late-night comedy show.
Why the Audience is Split Down the Middle
If you go on X (formerly Twitter) or Reddit during a live broadcast, the reaction to Sarah Sherman is never "fine." People either think she’s the savior of the show or they mute the TV. There’s no middle ground.
👉 See also: New Movies in Theatre: What Most People Get Wrong About This Month's Picks
Old-school fans—the ones who grew up on Phil Hartman or even Seth Meyers—sometimes find her "loudness" grating. They want witty wordplay. They want satire. Sarah gives them a sketch about a talking mole on someone's back. It’s divisive because it’s a rejection of the "cleverness" that defined the 2010s era of the show.
But younger viewers? They love it. They grew up on Adult Swim and TikTok, where humor is fast, chaotic, and visually overwhelming. To them, the "polished" SNL feels fake. Sarah feels real because she’s messy. She brings a "DIY" energy to a show that has a multi-million dollar budget per episode.
Breaking the Weekend Update Formula
The Weekend Update desk is sacred ground. Usually, guests come on, do a character, and leave. Sarah Saturday Night Live appearances changed the power dynamic. By making Colin Jost the "straight man" to her absolute insanity, she turned the news segment into a meta-commentary on the show itself.
- The Visual Gag: She often wears outfits that hurt the eyes—clashing patterns, oversized jewelry, and colors that shouldn't exist in nature.
- The Personal Attack: Her "insults" toward the anchors aren't just jokes; they’re high-energy roasts that feel like they’re coming from a chaotic younger sibling.
- The Body Horror: She frequently uses prosthetics or digital effects to deform herself, which is a massive departure from the "pretty" standards of TV.
It’s actually pretty brilliant when you think about it. She’s using the most rigid part of the show (the news desk) to be her most unhinged.
The Influence of PDD and the New Guard
Sarah isn't alone in this. She’s part of a "new guard" that includes the Please Don't Destroy trio. Together, they’ve shifted the show toward a more digital-first, fast-paced comedy style. If you look at the sketches that go viral on YouTube on Sunday mornings, it’s rarely the political cold open anymore. It’s the weird, specific, "Sarah-esque" sketches that catch the internet's attention.
She’s basically the bridge between the old world of cable TV and the new world of "weird internet" humor.
Dealing with the "Is She Too Much?" Critique
A common criticism is that Sarah Sherman only has one gear: 11.
✨ Don't miss: A Simple Favor Blake Lively: Why Emily Nelson Is Still the Ultimate Screen Mystery
Critics like James Poniewozik have noted that SNL often struggles to integrate high-concept performers into the broader ensemble. But Sarah has actually shown surprising range when she’s asked to play it straight. Watch her in sketches where she’s a background character or a normal wife—she has the timing of a pro. She just prefers the weird stuff.
And honestly? The show needs "too much" right now.
TV is dying. Linear broadcasting is struggling to keep anyone's attention for 90 minutes. If you aren't doing something that makes people stop scrolling and say "What the hell am I looking at?", you’re invisible. Sarah Sherman is never invisible.
The Cultural Impact Beyond the Screen
It’s not just about the jokes. Sarah has become a bit of a style icon for a specific subculture. Her "clowncore" aesthetic—oversized collars, bright makeup, and a general "more is more" philosophy—has bled into fashion. You see it at music festivals and on college campuses.
She’s proving that you can be "ugly-funny" and still be a star. In an industry that usually demands women be "approachable" or "conventionally attractive" to be in comedy, Sarah’s refusal to play that game is genuinely subversive. She’s gross. She’s sweaty. She’s loud. And she’s arguably the most famous person on that stage right now.
What Most People Get Wrong
People think Sarah is just a "random" humorist. That's a mistake. Her comedy is deeply rooted in the history of Jewish humor and the "Borscht Belt" tradition, just filtered through a 21st-century lens of body horror and feminist critique. It’s loud because it’s meant to be a protest against the silence of "polite" society.
She’s not just screaming for the sake of screaming. She’s screaming because it’s funny to scream at a man in a suit who represents the establishment.
🔗 Read more: The A Wrinkle in Time Cast: Why This Massive Star Power Didn't Save the Movie
How to Keep Up with Sarah’s Best Work
If you’re new to the "Squirm" experience, don't just watch the live show. You have to see her range to appreciate what she’s doing on Saturday nights.
- Check out her early "Helltrap Nightmare" videos: This is where you see the raw, unfiltered version of her comedy before the NBC censors got ahold of it.
- Watch the "Sarah News" segments chronologically: You can see her and Colin Jost’s chemistry evolve from "Who is this person?" to a genuine comedic partnership.
- Follow her Instagram: It’s a fever dream of 90s nostalgia and grotesque art that explains exactly where her SNL visual style comes from.
Actionable Takeaways for Comedy Fans
If you want to understand where comedy is heading, stop looking at the late-night monologues and start looking at the outliers like Sarah.
1. Embrace the "Cringe"
Modern comedy isn't always about a setup and a punchline. Sometimes it's about the tension of someone being "too loud" for too long. Learn to sit with that discomfort.
2. Visuals Matter More Than Ever
In the age of TikTok, a funny face or a weird costume is worth a thousand words. Sarah knows this better than anyone on the SNL cast.
3. Authenticity Trumps Polish
Even when she's wearing a giant prosthetic eyeball, Sarah feels more "authentic" than a lot of actors doing impressions. She’s clearly having the time of her life, and that joy is infectious, even if the humor isn't your cup of tea.
4. Watch the Background
Next time you watch a Sarah Saturday Night Live sketch, don't just watch her. Watch the other cast members. You can see them trying—and often failing—not to break character. That’s the sign of a performer who is truly controlling the room.
The reality is that SNL has always survived by reinventing itself every five to ten years. In the mid-70s, it was the "Not Ready for Prime Time Players." In the 90s, it was the "Bad Boys of SNL." Today, it’s the era of the surrealists. Whether you love her or hate her, Sarah Sherman is the face of that revolution. She isn't just a cast member; she's a disruption. And in a world of boring, predictable media, a little disruption is exactly what we need.
To truly appreciate her impact, go back and watch her debut episode versus her most recent one. The confidence shift is massive. She went from a featured player trying to find her footing to a powerhouse who essentially dictates the energy of the entire second half of the show. That kind of meteoric rise doesn't happen by accident. It happens because she knows exactly who she is, and she isn't going to change for anyone—not even Lorne Michaels.