The Day Mikey Day Almost Cropped a Legend: An SNL 50th Photo Fiasco

Picture this: a veritable constellation of comedic brilliance, a historic gathering marking half a century of 'Saturday Night Live.' Everyone who's anyone, it seemed, was there, crammed into that iconic Rockefeller Center studio for a monumental group photo. It was a moment for the ages, truly—a once-in-a-lifetime snapshot of television history. And right there, in the thick of it all, is Mikey Day, a brilliant SNL fixture, having... well, let's just say a moment he won't soon forget.

Day, bless his heart, found himself in a rather, shall we say, uncomfortable predicament, one he’s now recounted with a mix of cringe and disbelief. It happened during that epic group photo, a logistical nightmare turned star-studded triumph. He was, you see, deep in character. He was Sully, from the wonderfully bizarre 'Maine Justice' sketch—all intensity and, frankly, a bit oblivious to his immediate surroundings beyond the camera's frame. Sully, for those who might recall, is one half of a deeply serious, very specific 'judges' duo. He’s all about getting that perfect, intense, close-up shot for his legal show.

So, there's Mikey Day, in full Sully mode, focused intently on the camera, trying to get just the right angle for his 'shot' within the massive SNL 50 portrait. He was doing what any good sketch comedian does: committing. He leaned in, he adjusted, he probably nudged a bit, all in the service of the bit, of getting himself perfectly framed. And in doing so, in that very committed, very in-character moment, he inadvertently, astonishingly, cropped Steven Spielberg right out of the frame.

Yes, you read that right. Steven Spielberg. The Steven Spielberg. The man who gave us 'Jaws' and 'E.T.' and 'Schindler's List' and, honestly, half of our cinematic lexicon. Day, apparently, only realized the sheer magnitude of his accidental oversight after the fact, probably when someone, perhaps very gently, pointed out the rather legendary figure he’d just, shall we say, 'disappeared' from the shot. The horror, I imagine, must have been palpable. The immediate rush of adrenaline, the cold sweat—it's almost too much to think about, isn't it?

It’s the kind of story that immediately enters the pantheon of Hollywood lore: the budding comedy star, a legend in his own right within the SNL universe, accidentally sidelining the cinematic legend. And Spielberg? The man, the myth, the legend... apparently, he was utterly gracious. You could almost hear a collective sigh of relief from everyone involved, especially Mikey, I imagine. It's a testament, perhaps, to the good humor and easy-going nature of even the most iconic figures in the industry. It's also a brilliantly, hilariously human moment amidst the polished grandeur of a massive televised anniversary. Honestly, you couldn't write it better if you tried.