But since then, as Trump moved towards the White House, US comedians were recalibrating their approach to skewering him. SNL moved from its pre-election strategy of poking fun at his mannerisms and speech – and early in the campaign, even having the candidate on as a host – to a harder hitting approach. In one more recent sketch, he was depicted as a distracted rube too busy preening on social media to take intelligence briefings – and literally being advised by Satan (a depiction of Steve Bannon, the chief executive of Breitbart News). Trump himself noticed the more cynical depiction of him, and live-tweeted his ire (“unwatchable!”) without apparent irony. He’s even suggested that the show might be cancelled soon, despite its 41-year history: “Frankly, the way the show is going now,” he said in a phone interview with the Today show, “who knows how long that show is going to be on?”

While the comedy transition parallels Trump’s transition into office, it’s instructive to look at how comedians around the world have historically taken on those in power, whether their targets were leaders of ostensibly free societies like Italy’s Silvio Berlusconi or dictators like Iraq’s Saddam Hussein. Even Margaret Thatcher, who posed no threat to democracy, inspired an influential ‘alternative comedy’ movement through sheer dislike. One thing’s for sure: the comedy may get bleak, but it never dies.

Stern faces at the top

Perhaps the most Trumpian figure to precede Trump was Silvio Berlusconi, Italy’s on-again, off-again Prime Minister for nine years in total between 1994 and 2011. The similarities are almost overwhelming: Berlusconi was a controversy-stoking populist, a plutocrat with a penchant for pancake makeup, and a wealthy businessman who made his fortune in construction and used it to build a TV empire. And he did not take kindly to any of this being made light of.

In a 2001 interview, Italian TV journalist Enzo Biagi asked comic actor Roberto Benigni what he thought of Berlusconi, who was about to be elected to his second of three terms. Benigni answered with a long, hysterical laugh – a laugh that continued far longer than was natural, so long that Biagi couldn’t help but join in out of sheer discomfort. Benigni finally followed with a monologue: “Who is Berlusconi? He is someone who always wants to be in on the act. He wants to be everywhere. He wants to be the star. There's a meeting, he talks. He goes to a wedding, he wants to be the bridegroom. He goes to a funeral, he wants to be the deceased.” Biagi continued laughing, and Berlusconi noticed. After the leader’s victory, he wielded his newfound power, accusing Biagi of putting public television “to criminal use”; Biagi’s show, Il Fatto, was taken off its network, RAI 1, a government-run channel.