HOLLYWOOD FEUDS: CHEVY CHASE AND BILL MURRAY

Their animosity began in the chill backstage corridors of Saturday Night Live in February 1978. Chevy Chase, having risen to instant fame as SNL's original "Weekend Update" anchor, had departed after season two, confident his movie career awaited. Bill Murray, brought on in the next season, was dubbed the “new Chevy,” a tag that felt more like a weight than an honor to the quieter performer.

When Chevy returned to host the 11th episode of the third season, the air was already thick with tension. John Belushi, a close friend of Murray's, had been spreading veiled critiques of Chase to stir the pot. Things reached a boiling point one afternoon when Murray confronted Chase, accusing him of being universally disliked by the cast and crew. Their argument ignited with Murray mocking Chase’s personal life—“Go f**k your wife, she needs it”—to which Chase retorted with a biting insult about Murray’s appearance, likening it to lunar terrain.

Moments before airtime, the verbal rigmarole escalated into shoving and wild slaps in the hallway. Bill Murray cursed out Chevy as SNL writers and even Belushi intervened to pull them apart. Filmmaker John Landis later described them slapping and screaming, with Murray calling Chase a “medium talent,” evidence that their feud carried raw emotions and barbed humor.

In reflecting on the clash, Murray would later call it a “Hollywood fight,” a melodramatic eruption driven by shifting seasons, wounded pride, and collective resentment over Chase’s departure. He said it represented an “Oedipal thing”—a symbolic betrayal where he became the avenging voice for the ensemble.

Despite the heat of the moment, neither emerged with serious injuries. Chevy later shrugged, “Billy Murray and I came to fisticuffs, but we never really ended up hitting each other... we tried, but Belushi got in the middle and we both ended up hitting John”. The fight subsided under a flurry of intervention—John Belushi, Brian Doyle‑Murray, writers Michael O’Donoghue and Tom Davis—restoring pre-show calm and ensuring the broadcast proceeded as planned.

 
Time, oddly enough, became the balm. In 1979, at a party, Chevy delivered one of the wildest peace offerings in comedy lore: he drunkenly approached Murray, unzipped his fly, and mimed an oral gesture. Both burst into laughter, and just like that, the ice cracked. Their subsequent friendship was sealed on the set of Caddyshack (1980), where their camaraderie on-screen—smoking pot together—mirrored the thawing of their earlier hostilities.

Over the decades, their relationship transformed from fiery rivalry to mutual respect. Bill would later acknowledge that Weekend Update wouldn’t exist without Chevy, ranking him a worthy fourth among its anchors—humble praise tucked into a tribute that concluded with warm acknowledgment. Chevy, for his part, would lean on Murray’s subtle kindness even during tense moments, paying homage at SNL’s 50th anniversary with genuine picture-posting camaraderie.

Their feud, once a product of wounded egos and high-stakes comedy, ultimately became a testament to reconciliation. A loud hallway fight fades into the lore of showbiz; their later friendship, captured in film and shared history, reminds us that even the bitterest clashes can give way to something deeper and enduring...