In a Rare Late-Night Appearance, Bette Midler Joins Colin Jost for a Blistering Critique of President Trump
NEW YORK — On a recent episode of “Saturday Night Live,” what began as a standard “Weekend Update” segment evolved into an extraordinary moment of television when the actress and singer Bette Midler made an unannounced guest appearance alongside the anchor Colin Jost. The two New York icons, known for their sharp wit and longstanding disdain for President Trump’s political style, delivered a coordinated and unrelenting series of jabs that left the studio audience stunned before erupting in applause.
Mr. Jost, the longtime “Weekend Update” co-anchor whose dry, Harvard-honed delivery often masks a quiet intensity, appeared visibly energized by Ms. Midler’s presence. Seated at the desk in a glittering sequined jacket that evoked her Broadway heyday, Ms. Midler, 80, exuded the confident mischief of a performer who has spent decades commanding stages. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of delight and righteous indignation as she leaned toward the camera.

The segment opened innocently enough. Mr. Jost introduced a news item about the president’s latest controversial remarks on immigration policy. “President Trump said yesterday that immigrants are ‘poisoning the blood of our country,’” Mr. Jost began, his voice steady but laced with sarcasm. “Which is rich coming from a man whose own family tree looks like it was drawn by a kindergartener with a crayon labeled ‘Germany.’”
The audience chuckled, but Ms. Midler, invited as a “special correspondent from the world of show business,” interjected seamlessly. “Colin, darling,” she said, her voice husky and theatrical, “I’ve been watching this man for years. He’s like a bad revue that never closes — all flash, no substance, and the audience keeps paying for tickets they regret.”
The pair’s chemistry was immediate and devastating. They appeared to have prepared a tag-team routine, trading lines with the precision of veteran comedians. Ms. Midler, a vocal critic of Mr. Trump since his 2016 campaign, cited his history of inflammatory rhetoric. “He calls people names like a bullied child on a playground,” she said. “Remember when he called me ‘washed up’? Honey, I’ve had more comebacks than he’s had bankruptcies.”

Mr. Jost, suppressing a grin, followed up: “And let’s not forget his obsession with crowds. He still claims his inauguration was the biggest ever. Bette, you’ve sold out Madison Square Garden — what do you think?”
Ms. Midler paused for effect, her expression shifting to mock sympathy. “I think the only thing bigger than his crowds is his insecurity. The man lives in a golden tower, surrounds himself with yes-men, and yet he rages on social media at 3 a.m. like a lonely troll. It’s sad, really. But also dangerous.”
The escalation came when they turned to Mr. Trump’s recent legal battles and allegations of document mishandling. Mr. Jost displayed a graphic of Mar-a-Lago. “Sources say the president is furious about ongoing investigations,” he deadpanned. “Apparently, aides are hiding his phone to stop him from tweeting.”
Ms. Midler leaned in closer, her tone turning icy. “Hiding records, hiding taxes, hiding the truth — it’s his brand. But Colin, what really gets me is the hypocrisy. He screams ‘law and order’ while treating the Constitution like a napkin at one of his steakhouse buffets.”

The killer line arrived as they built to a crescendo. Mr. Jost set it up: “Bette, why do you think he reacts so viscerally to criticism?”
“Because,” Ms. Midler replied, pausing for a beat as the studio fell silent, “deep down, he knows the emperor has no clothes — and the mirror at Mar-a-Lago is the only one that lies to him.”
The audience hesitated for a moment, absorbing the sting, before bursting into thunderous laughter and applause. Even crew members, accustomed to the show’s edginess, exchanged wide-eyed glances.
Reports from Palm Beach suggest the segment triggered an immediate reaction at Mar-a-Lago. According to aides who spoke on condition of anonymity, President Trump watched the broadcast live and erupted in fury, pacing the room and demanding staff “find out who let that witch on television.” He reportedly threatened to sue NBC, called Ms. Midler a series of unprintable names, and dictated several all-caps posts for Truth Social decrying the appearance as “fake news” and “a disgrace to our great country.” One draft post, later deleted, accused Mr. Jost of being “a low-IQ puppet controlled by radical left Scarlett Johansson.”

Aides scrambled to downplay the episode, with one senior adviser dismissing it as “just Hollywood elites attacking again.” Yet the clip spread rapidly online, amassing millions of views and spawning memes juxtaposing Mr. Trump’s past insults toward Ms. Midler with her triumphant retorts.
For Ms. Midler, whose activism has intensified in recent years, the appearance was personal. Friends say she has long viewed Mr. Trump’s leadership as a threat to democratic norms, fueling her motivation to use her platform. Mr. Jost, meanwhile, seemed to relish the collaboration; colleagues noted his uncharacteristic post-show exuberance, describing him as “giddy” at having landed such pointed blows alongside a legend.
In an era of polarized media, the moment stood out for its old-school showbiz flair — two entertainers, united by geography and grievance, dismantling a powerful figure with words alone. Whether it changes minds is doubtful, but it underscored a enduring truth: In New York, sharp tongues remain the city’s most potent weapon.