Kenan Thompson has been part of the furniture at “Saturday Night Live” for so long that it is hard to picture Studio 8H without him. After more than two decades of sketches, catchphrases, and straight-man reactions that saved wobbly bits, he is finally talking openly about what it will mean to walk away. The veteran comic is not pretending it will be easy, admitting that the idea of leaving after 23 seasons is something he is bracing for emotionally.
Instead of a clean, confident farewell tour, Thompson is describing a slow, complicated countdown. He is weighing loyalty to the show that made him a household name against the pull of new milestones, and he is candid that the eventual goodbye is likely to land with real weight for him and for fans who grew up watching him every weekend.
The longest run in SNL history is nearing its finish line
Kenan Thompson is not just another cast member thinking about his next move, he is the longest serving performer in “Saturday Night Live” history, with 23 seasons behind him and a legacy that stretches from “What Up With That?” to countless impressions. That kind of tenure turns a job into a life rhythm, which is why he has admitted he is “dreading” the day he finally has to step away from the show that has defined his adult career. In recent comments, he acknowledged that the emotional weight of that last day is already on his mind, saying it is “gonna be a lot” to process when he eventually leaves the building as a former cast member rather than a current one, a feeling he connected directly to his long run as the show’s most enduring player, as reflected in that status.
Part of what makes his looming exit feel so heavy is that Thompson joined “SNL” when he was still in his twenties and has essentially grown up on camera. He has weathered cast overhauls, political eras, and shifts in comedy taste, all while anchoring sketches with a steady presence that newer performers could lean on. When he talks about dreading the goodbye, it is not just about losing a job, it is about stepping away from a creative home that has been his base for 23 years, a stretch that few performers in any live television institution can match.
Why walking away feels so emotionally loaded
Thompson has been clear that the sadness he anticipates is not hypothetical, he has watched it play out every time someone else has left the show. He has described how it is “usually always sad” when a cast member says goodbye, because the group is not just a workplace but a tight ensemble that spends long nights building sketches together. That perspective comes from seeing colleagues cycle in and out while he stayed put, and it helps explain why he expects his own departure to hit hard, a point he underscored while reflecting on the emotional pattern of cast exits in a recent conversation.
There is also the simple reality that “SNL” has been Thompson’s creative laboratory for more than two decades, giving him a weekly outlet to test characters, sharpen timing, and collaborate with writers who know exactly how to use him. Leaving that behind means giving up a reliable pipeline of live feedback and shared adrenaline, something that is hard to replicate on a film set or in a single-camera sitcom. When he talks about the emotional load of his eventual exit, he is really talking about losing a unique ecosystem that has shaped his identity as much as his résumé.
Jokes about the exit strategy hide some real nerves
True to form, Thompson has been using humor to talk about something that clearly makes him uneasy. He has joked that when the time finally comes, he might have to “rip the bandaid” and bolt out a side door rather than linger in the hallway for a long round of goodbyes. In one riff, he imagined himself skipping the in-person farewell entirely, slipping out the back and sending letters instead, a bit that lets him laugh at his own discomfort while still admitting that the moment will be tough, as he put it while discussing how he might “run out the back door” in a recent interview.
Those jokes land because they sound like something his characters might do, but they also hint at how overwhelming the final night could feel. Thompson is not the type to stage a dramatic curtain call, and the idea of being the center of a sentimental send-off seems to make him squirm. By framing his exit as a quick, almost slapstick escape, he is trying to keep the focus on the work rather than the farewell, even as he acknowledges that the goodbye will be emotionally charged for him and for the colleagues who have relied on his steady presence.
Balancing loyalty to SNL with new milestones
For all the talk about leaving, Thompson has not set a public end date, and he has admitted that part of him wants to stay “until the wheels fall off.” That phrase captures the tug-of-war he is feeling between loyalty to the show and the reality that he is entering a new phase of his career, with other projects and personal goals competing for his time. He has framed his internal debate as a question of when it will feel right to close this chapter, rather than whether he still loves the work, a nuance he highlighted while discussing his long run and the possibility of eventually stepping away in a detailed look at his future.
That tension is familiar to anyone who has stayed in a beloved job long enough to outlast multiple eras. Thompson has built a brand outside “SNL,” from sitcoms to hosting gigs, yet the show remains the anchor that keeps him in the weekly cultural conversation. Leaving too early could feel like walking away from a good thing, but staying forever is not realistic either, especially as he hits new personal and professional milestones that demand attention. His comments suggest he is trying to find a sweet spot where he can honor what “SNL” has given him without clinging so tightly that he misses the chance to grow in other directions.
Watching friends leave makes the choice more real
One reason Thompson’s reflections feel more urgent now is that he has watched close colleagues move on, forcing him to imagine what it would be like to follow them out the door. He has talked about how it stings when a familiar face is suddenly gone from the writers’ room or the stage, and he has pointed to former co-stars like Bowen Yang as examples of how departures can reshape the energy of the cast. Seeing someone like Bowen Yang move on underscores that even standout performers eventually reach a point where it makes sense to chase new opportunities.
Those exits have also given Thompson a front-row view of how fans react when a favorite leaves. Social media fills with clip compilations and nostalgic posts, and the show spends a night or two adjusting before the next generation steps up. He knows that when his turn comes, the reaction will likely be even louder, simply because he has been there longer than anyone else. That awareness adds another layer to his hesitation, he is not just deciding what is right for him, he is also quietly preparing for the ripple effect his departure will have on a show that has come to rely on him as its most consistent utility player, a dynamic he has acknowledged while saying he “definitely” thinks about the timing of his eventual exit in a candid discussion.
More from Vinyl and Velvet:
Leave a Reply