So last summer's switch made sense on paper—let Strong get back to what she does best, and find someone Jost could play off. Michaels apparently tried "a number of different combinations" before settling on Che, who was working as a writer on SNL and a correspondent on The Daily Show. Che would be the first black "Update" anchor in the show's 40-year history, and the two could build on their own chemistry without worrying about the segment's baggage.

There have been some promising moments. When Che does longer material that sounds like his standup act, such as a riff on Black History Month stamps, it tends to kill. The comedian was also very funny dressing down Jost over the use of the word "bae" in their second episode together. "It just feels like you can say everything!" Jost complained. "There's things I can't say," Che retorted. "Like, 'Toodle-oo,' or 'Skinny macchiato,' or 'Thank you for your help, officer.'" Whatever bond Michaels noticed during auditions shines through during those moments of banter.

Not so much, though, during the heart of "Update," which is the same set-up, joke, set-up, joke model the segment has embraced for 40 years. And that isn't to call it an easy model: If anything, Che and Jost's struggles show what an incredible pro Meyers was in making it look so easy for so many years, and doing it solo for most of them. Whatever you thought of his smarm, "Update" was always the safe center of his tenure as the show's head writer, whereas now weekend Twitter feeds are flooded with longtime fans asking what's to be done. Some find Che too laconic—his slow-tempo standup style, plus the typical freshman issues of fumbling the occasional cue-card line (Meyers did it too), often makes him seem disinterested in the jokes. That's not good, since the jokes aren't always particularly original. They need to be sold pretty hard—it doesn't matter if a host's enthusiasm comes off as acrid sarcasm (like Norm MacDonald) or defiant pride (like Amy Poehler).

Jost has a sympathy problem, in that it's tough to have any for him. Foisted on the audience out of nowhere, he's developed no real identity outside of his flirtation with cast member Leslie Jones, who calls him things like a "sexy vanilla muffin" as he smirks uncomfortably. Matters weren't helped last week with his publication of a piece in The New Yorker's Shouts and Murmurs section called "I Will Slap You." As a standalone work, it isn't particularly memorable (you can read it in one minute and get it), but it seemed to act as confirmation for some SNL fans that the man giving them "Update" jokes every week doesn't deserve the gig. "Is the Joke in Colin Jost's Shouts & Murmurs Piece That It Was Printed?" Jia Tolentino asked on Jezebel. "Jost’s thing is to beat a joke into the ground, so tickled by his own cleverness that he doesn’t seem to notice its diminishing returns," Beejoli Shah said at The Frisky.