Sons & Daughters follows Love Monkey and Arrested into that good night.
You think it's frustrating as a viewer?
Try being a guy trying to write good TV, seeing the TV you love just...not...connect.
I don't blame American Idol -- after all, American Idol made HOUSE a hit.
Still. It's hard not to...you know...reach for the scotch.
Fred Goss' announcement is here.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
The Office: Jim Grows A Pair
(spoilers for the Season Finale of The Office below.)
Well.
That didn't take long.
A friend once revealed to me that, back in high school, this girl I dated complained to him that I was the most frustrating person in the world to argue with -- because every time she thought she'd score a point, I'd nod and say, "Okay. You're right about that. I concede the point."
Then, I'd reframe the argument or move on to something else. Apparently it was very frustrating. In my book it's called listening, and it's also the way you argue -- present political climate to the contrary.
That's a long-winded Saturday way of saying that I take back the statement I made below:
Yup. Thursday's season finale of The Office.
The charm of the American version has always been (even more than its British parent) the wonky rhythms of its storytelling.
We talk about surprising people with our Act Outs, and of never letting the audience guess where the story is going. But a lot of the time those "surprises" are just cheap suspense, or a logical function of the story. What The Office has managed to convey is a genuine off-kilter appeal where you just don't know what is going to happen next. You know Michael is a train wreck and clueless, and you dread him in the room with Jan and her boss -- and he comes through by being decent, taking heat, and protecting her with a decency even she didn't think was there. You track Dwight trying to catch Oscar takig a fake sick day, and then out of nowhere comes the punch: Oscar's gay, living a perfectly happy secret life which none of his Office-mates know about. (And honestly, would you tell these guys?)
And then there's Jim and Pam.
When you think about it, The Office has already done more episodes than the brilliant Gervais original. Which means that Jim and Pam have been sniffing around each other longer than Tim and Dawn ever did.
I've written before about the subtle deviations from the British source material that make the American Office work: chief among them the fact that Jim doesn't hate his job quite as much as Tim did. But the progression of the Jim/Pam relationship has also brought some intriguing differences that speaks to national character.
I always got the sense watching the UK Office that the main obstacle keeping Tim and Dawn apart was good old fashioned repression. Dawn knew how Tim felt (he told her: twice!) and she just couldn't bring herself to change her situation. She soldiered on. (In Office-time, after all, it took her leaving for more than a year to finally bring them together.)
Jim and Pam, on the other hand, have followed a similar but very different trajectory. Pam is utterly clueless about Jim's feelings -- but more importantly, her own. As the season wore on, and Pam planned her wedding, the comic straight-to-camera interviews became more and more bittersweet, as
you realized just how much Pam was deluding herself.
And Jim, decent guy that he is, kept coming up to the line of telling her, and backing away. There they were, trapped in the no-man's land of being "best friends" who really weren't best friends at all.
I love Tim, I do. Don't get me wrong. But I get Jim. I've been Jim - more than once in my life.
So for the endgame, the 'very special-ness' of the season ender to just come out of nowhere like that -- it was almost over before you knew what was happening -- well, that was a great use of 40 minutes.
From Salon's treatment of the wrap-up:
Well.
That didn't take long.
A friend once revealed to me that, back in high school, this girl I dated complained to him that I was the most frustrating person in the world to argue with -- because every time she thought she'd score a point, I'd nod and say, "Okay. You're right about that. I concede the point."
Then, I'd reframe the argument or move on to something else. Apparently it was very frustrating. In my book it's called listening, and it's also the way you argue -- present political climate to the contrary.
That's a long-winded Saturday way of saying that I take back the statement I made below:
Has there ever been a "super sized" episode that was better than a normal episode of the same series, rather than just bloated and unnecessary?
Yup. Thursday's season finale of The Office.The charm of the American version has always been (even more than its British parent) the wonky rhythms of its storytelling.
We talk about surprising people with our Act Outs, and of never letting the audience guess where the story is going. But a lot of the time those "surprises" are just cheap suspense, or a logical function of the story. What The Office has managed to convey is a genuine off-kilter appeal where you just don't know what is going to happen next. You know Michael is a train wreck and clueless, and you dread him in the room with Jan and her boss -- and he comes through by being decent, taking heat, and protecting her with a decency even she didn't think was there. You track Dwight trying to catch Oscar takig a fake sick day, and then out of nowhere comes the punch: Oscar's gay, living a perfectly happy secret life which none of his Office-mates know about. (And honestly, would you tell these guys?)
And then there's Jim and Pam.
When you think about it, The Office has already done more episodes than the brilliant Gervais original. Which means that Jim and Pam have been sniffing around each other longer than Tim and Dawn ever did.
I've written before about the subtle deviations from the British source material that make the American Office work: chief among them the fact that Jim doesn't hate his job quite as much as Tim did. But the progression of the Jim/Pam relationship has also brought some intriguing differences that speaks to national character.
I always got the sense watching the UK Office that the main obstacle keeping Tim and Dawn apart was good old fashioned repression. Dawn knew how Tim felt (he told her: twice!) and she just couldn't bring herself to change her situation. She soldiered on. (In Office-time, after all, it took her leaving for more than a year to finally bring them together.)
Jim and Pam, on the other hand, have followed a similar but very different trajectory. Pam is utterly clueless about Jim's feelings -- but more importantly, her own. As the season wore on, and Pam planned her wedding, the comic straight-to-camera interviews became more and more bittersweet, as
you realized just how much Pam was deluding herself.And Jim, decent guy that he is, kept coming up to the line of telling her, and backing away. There they were, trapped in the no-man's land of being "best friends" who really weren't best friends at all.
I love Tim, I do. Don't get me wrong. But I get Jim. I've been Jim - more than once in my life.
So for the endgame, the 'very special-ness' of the season ender to just come out of nowhere like that -- it was almost over before you knew what was happening -- well, that was a great use of 40 minutes.
From Salon's treatment of the wrap-up:
At the Casino Night (held in the company warehouse), Pam flirts through a few hands of poker with Jim before cleaning him out. Jim seems ready to give up on the night when a conversation with Jan about his plans to transfer out of the company's Scranton office, a move obviously connected to Pam's upcoming nuptials, catalyzes something within him. Finding himself alone with Pam, he decides to show her his hand, dropping his defenses so suddenly it comes as quite a shock -- both to her and us:If this is where comedy on TV is going, can we all just agree to climb on board now?
"I'm in love with you."
"What!?"
"I'm really sorry if that's weird for you to hear, but I need you to hear it."
Watching Jim's face through the scene, you can't help feeling sorry for the guy, and Pam almost makes you hate her when she says Jim just "misinterpreted things." But then, just when you're about ready to write her off, Pam is back in the office, talking to her mom on the phone about what has just happened. Suddenly, Jim saunters in -- you have to admire his persistence here -- and plants a big one on her. She tenses up at first, but then returns the kiss with a passion that says this is the moment she's been waiting for, too. The show ends with the two of them looking at each other with a mixture of elation and confusion: Now what?
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Schedule a-go-go!
On this blog, I've given stick in the past to Canadian programmers who congratulate themselves for their brilliance, when really all they're doing is simulcasting U.S. shows, trading on the creativity (and creative risk) of other broadcasters.
Well for that class of programmer, there is no phrase more headache-inducing than this: Super Sized Comedies.
The perennially lame NBC sweeps trick (Has there ever been a "super sized" episode that was better than a normal episode of the same series, rather than just bloated and unnecessary?) wreaks havoc for Canadian networks locked into simulcasting shows from multiple U.S. Networks. Check out this train-wreck of a breakdown from Bill Brioux in today's Toronto Sun.
Whew.
Now, I don't have any objection to channels making money. Hell, my livelihood depends on it. But seriously -- on some level, when you read the above -- wouldn't it help to have a few hit shows that you actually had control over?
You know what makes this worse, too? Once upon a time, if you were a Canadian network and you couldn't show the show at the same time as the U.S. net, you sometimes got the opportunity to pre-release it. So the show would air a night earlier in Canada. That largely seems to have disappeared, especially for the big shows. Canadian networks sometimes show a show, say, an hour earlier than in the U.S., but I'm willing to bet that in the downloading world, distribs are a whole lot tighter about letting the show air in Canada too much ahead of the U.S. broadcast.
Almost makes you think it would be easier to, you know, make your own shows.
Nah.
Well for that class of programmer, there is no phrase more headache-inducing than this: Super Sized Comedies.
The perennially lame NBC sweeps trick (Has there ever been a "super sized" episode that was better than a normal episode of the same series, rather than just bloated and unnecessary?) wreaks havoc for Canadian networks locked into simulcasting shows from multiple U.S. Networks. Check out this train-wreck of a breakdown from Bill Brioux in today's Toronto Sun.
Now for the tricky part: If you are planning to watch this show on a Canadian station, better sit down. NBC's scheduling scheme is a super-sized headache for Global, which normally simulcasts the NBC comedies.
Write this down: NBC will air the 40-minute Earl finale from 8:40 to 9:20, between super-sized episodes of Will & Grace (8 p.m. to 8:40) and The Office (9:20 to 9:59).
Global, which is locked in with Survivor Panama from 8 p.m. to 9 p.m., will air the super-sized Earl from 9 p.m. to 9:40, followed by an Earl encore ("Monkeys In Space") that they will cram, commercial free, into the 9:40 to 10 p.m. slot before leading into Without A Trace at 10 p.m.
Could that be more confusing? Yes, actually. Global has no plans to air tonight's second-last episode of Will & Grace, "Whatever Happened To Baby Gin?" Bernadette Peters guests as Karen's long-lost sister who was injured as a child in a game of Twister. Sounds like Will & Grace is ending just in the nick of time.
NBC has it at 8. Global, which fobbed this over to CH years ago, has it on the shelf. CH is clogged up tonight with two hours of American Inventors (8-10 p.m.). Maybe an inventor will some day figure out some way Canadian networks can cram even more American shows onto their schedules.
Next week, Global will air the one-hour Will & Grace series finale, plus the one hour retrospective special (from 8-10 p.m.). Not CH, Global. Does your head hurt? My head hurts.
It gets worse. The Office has a 40-minute season finale tonight (9:20 - 9:59), written by series star Steve Carell. Something about a casino night in the warehouse. Huge laffs.
Global can't show it tonight and might show it later. Or not.
Whew.
Now, I don't have any objection to channels making money. Hell, my livelihood depends on it. But seriously -- on some level, when you read the above -- wouldn't it help to have a few hit shows that you actually had control over?
You know what makes this worse, too? Once upon a time, if you were a Canadian network and you couldn't show the show at the same time as the U.S. net, you sometimes got the opportunity to pre-release it. So the show would air a night earlier in Canada. That largely seems to have disappeared, especially for the big shows. Canadian networks sometimes show a show, say, an hour earlier than in the U.S., but I'm willing to bet that in the downloading world, distribs are a whole lot tighter about letting the show air in Canada too much ahead of the U.S. broadcast.
Almost makes you think it would be easier to, you know, make your own shows.
Nah.
Final Draft Catches Up
Final Draft released an update -- 7.2 -- this week. I've had my frustrations with FD in the past. I shudder to think of the glitch that prevented me from running my newly-updated-to-7 program on my 17 hour flight to South Africa two years ago. Trying to call customer service in L.A. -- nine hours and 10 000 miles away wasn't very fun either. In fact, I think through the entire time I was working on Charlie Jade I wound up going back to FD6 just cause 7 was so stupidly buggy. Like, Microsoft buggy.
The ongoing Screenwriter or Final Draft debate is the most boring argument in Scriptendom. It's so boring it makes the Mac vs. PC imbroglio look like a full-contact deathmatch performance of The Mikado by naked Playboy Playmates.
I'll give you a minute with that. Yes. Picture it. Good.
Moving on...
My thing (as someone who's used both) is that I prefer FD simply because I'm a Mac user, and that's the platform it started on. Screenwriter feels and looks like a PC product ported to Mac. (Which it is.) But FD is also a colossal pain in the ass.
But I was eager to update, because this new version (7.1.2, build 34, to be precise) is the first that's native to my brand new Intel-chip based Macbook Pro. (Yes, Yes, I know. No, I can't afford it. Ah Credit, is there any trouble you can't get me into?)
Cruising the program, I'm pleased to see that it seems to have fixed some lingering issues.
And more importantly, they've finally caught up with what has always been one of FD's strengths: TV templates.
The TV templates included with Final Draft have always been a good idea with a bad execution. Simply put: they don't update them enough.
So I was pleased in the new update to find templates ready made for The Office, My Name is Earl, Commander in Chief (okay, maybe not that one, sigh) Bones, The L Word, Prison Break, Numb3rs, House, Grey's Anatomy, Entourage, and How I Met Your Mother.
Sure, you still have to wade through some of the less-than-desirable templates. (Seriously, is anyone out there writing an According to Jim?) But it's still a step in the right direction.
I assume these templates are created by someone who's actually looked at an actual script from the show, and reflect each show's particular quirks. (I mean, I hope so, if not: lame.)
I'm pleased with their effort to stay more current with the templates. I hope it continues.
Now, if they could just come up with one for The Unit...
The ongoing Screenwriter or Final Draft debate is the most boring argument in Scriptendom. It's so boring it makes the Mac vs. PC imbroglio look like a full-contact deathmatch performance of The Mikado by naked Playboy Playmates.
I'll give you a minute with that. Yes. Picture it. Good.
Moving on...
My thing (as someone who's used both) is that I prefer FD simply because I'm a Mac user, and that's the platform it started on. Screenwriter feels and looks like a PC product ported to Mac. (Which it is.) But FD is also a colossal pain in the ass.
But I was eager to update, because this new version (7.1.2, build 34, to be precise) is the first that's native to my brand new Intel-chip based Macbook Pro. (Yes, Yes, I know. No, I can't afford it. Ah Credit, is there any trouble you can't get me into?)
Cruising the program, I'm pleased to see that it seems to have fixed some lingering issues.
And more importantly, they've finally caught up with what has always been one of FD's strengths: TV templates.
The TV templates included with Final Draft have always been a good idea with a bad execution. Simply put: they don't update them enough.
So I was pleased in the new update to find templates ready made for The Office, My Name is Earl, Commander in Chief (okay, maybe not that one, sigh) Bones, The L Word, Prison Break, Numb3rs, House, Grey's Anatomy, Entourage, and How I Met Your Mother.
Sure, you still have to wade through some of the less-than-desirable templates. (Seriously, is anyone out there writing an According to Jim?) But it's still a step in the right direction.
I assume these templates are created by someone who's actually looked at an actual script from the show, and reflect each show's particular quirks. (I mean, I hope so, if not: lame.)
I'm pleased with their effort to stay more current with the templates. I hope it continues.
Now, if they could just come up with one for The Unit...
Have You Any Dreams You'd Like to Sell?
Last night, I had the one where I was supposed to perform (in this case, a song) but I didn't know the lyrics. So I had to go find them before the performance. But I was moving too slowly, so I just started flying.
That's right. The Performance Dream + The Flying Dream.
I'm now having hybrid dreams.
I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
That's right. The Performance Dream + The Flying Dream.
I'm now having hybrid dreams.
I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Procrastinatey
I worked straight through the weekend and turned in a draft yesterday. So I had no weekend, right? So I should be taking today off and contemplating the next step and the meeting I have Friday, right?
Wrong.
Sigh. Instead I'm taking an animation pitch to outline. Glamorous! Awesome! Feh!
But because I'm burned out, I'm also surfing and doing the wasting-time dance.
I'm really digging this woman's blog right now. Curious about staffing season and what it does to people? Go give it a read.
She seems to be handling it rather well.
I'm also channeling my inner Jane Espenson right now -- I just realized that I've been obsessing over the thought of a Ham and Swiss Sandwich on Wheat Bread from wagamama, the cafe across the street from me.
Damnit, I gotta go buy that sandwich. And if they have the Potato Leek Soup too, well, I'm going to freak out.
Wrong.
Sigh. Instead I'm taking an animation pitch to outline. Glamorous! Awesome! Feh!
But because I'm burned out, I'm also surfing and doing the wasting-time dance.
I'm really digging this woman's blog right now. Curious about staffing season and what it does to people? Go give it a read.
She seems to be handling it rather well.
I'm also channeling my inner Jane Espenson right now -- I just realized that I've been obsessing over the thought of a Ham and Swiss Sandwich on Wheat Bread from wagamama, the cafe across the street from me.
Damnit, I gotta go buy that sandwich. And if they have the Potato Leek Soup too, well, I'm going to freak out.
And that answers that, too...
I thought it was a John Spencer-related thing.
Depressing that it, once again, it all comes down to the filthy lucre.
If only it had won the Emmy, you know, Five times...
Tuesday, May 9, 2006
Be Careful What You Wish For.
My friend Alex of Complications Ensue and I have a little ongoing thing that started when we were in South Africa. Actually, come to think of it, he may not even be aware of this thing we have. This thing is basically this:
He watches Gilmore Girls.
I laugh at him because he watches Gilmore Girls.
I've never liked Gilmore Girls. I think I'd rather...well...I'd almost rather watch 7th Heaven than Gilmore Girls. At least 7th Heaven had that hottie on it. Or did she leave? Anyway, that show's gone too -- so nevermind.
Now. Before you diary writing, Lorelai-lovin Stars Hollowin freaks have at me, remember: taste is taste. I watch Grey's Anatomy, which is, if anything, even girlier than Gilmore Girls. (And they're also getting way out of hand on their music cues.) Anyway, he doesn't like Battlestar Galactica, and I think he's nuts for that. So there it is.
All that as preamble to this:
Here's a very, very interesting article about the nitty-gritty of why Amy Sherman-Palladino and Dan Palladino aren't returning to Gilmore Girls next year.
The short version is that they wanted a two year deal, and some other stuff, and the PTB said, "nope." But it's the long version that should frost your cornflakes if you actually entertain fantasies of one day rising in the TV writing ranks to showrunner:
He watches Gilmore Girls.
I laugh at him because he watches Gilmore Girls.
I've never liked Gilmore Girls. I think I'd rather...well...I'd almost rather watch 7th Heaven than Gilmore Girls. At least 7th Heaven had that hottie on it. Or did she leave? Anyway, that show's gone too -- so nevermind.
Now. Before you diary writing, Lorelai-lovin Stars Hollowin freaks have at me, remember: taste is taste. I watch Grey's Anatomy, which is, if anything, even girlier than Gilmore Girls. (And they're also getting way out of hand on their music cues.) Anyway, he doesn't like Battlestar Galactica, and I think he's nuts for that. So there it is.
All that as preamble to this:
Here's a very, very interesting article about the nitty-gritty of why Amy Sherman-Palladino and Dan Palladino aren't returning to Gilmore Girls next year.
The short version is that they wanted a two year deal, and some other stuff, and the PTB said, "nope." But it's the long version that should frost your cornflakes if you actually entertain fantasies of one day rising in the TV writing ranks to showrunner:
Dan: For the six years, we've been working seven days a week, 'cause we knew every aspect of the show. We'd break every story, we'd edit, this last year we directed seven between ourselves, we have written 90-something scripts.Ulp.
Amy: We also take a pass at all scripts that go out and by the time our season ends, by the time I'm done editing and by the time I'm done with sound mixes and everything like that, it's mid-May. We start back June 1. We work through every holiday... Christmas, Thanksgiving. It's been quite a load.
Dan: So, having done that for six years, we really wanted to expand our personnel base. We wanted more writers, more bodies in that writers' room, we wanted a director on staff, which I think every other hourlong show has, except ours. Not having that director on staff means Amy and I have to be down on stage supervising other directors, which leads to the seven-days-a-week thing. So we were needing more personnel. And we never got around to convincing people that that was absolutely necessary.
Amy: And part of the reason we went to the studio so early in the game is because we wanted to be able to go out and find writers then. And find a director-producer then. So that everything would be in place the following year. Because at this point in time, shows are being picked up, people are putting their schedules together, the marketplace is thin. Great people are being snapped up. And we went to the studio and said, "Look, give us a chance to get everything in place now. Let's have everyone sign up for next year. Let's start working on next year this year." I think it's a couple of things. Businesswise, we spoiled them, because why spend money on other writers when you don't have to? [Laughs] There's a little bit of that. And I also think that everybody thinks that everybody's playing poker, and who's going to blink first? And we were like, very honestly, like, in an Andy Hardy movie going, "No, seriously, we really want to put on a show in the barn if you just listen to us, mister!" And it just never got to that point. And it wasn't until things really came to a head that suddenly people realized, "The insane people are actually serious about this."
Cleanin' up Tony? @%$#!
Today's NY Times has an interesting article about A&E's ongoing project to "clean up" episodes of The Sopranos for their basic cable premiere next year. Now, before you scoff (oh go ahead, scoff, I can see you want to) remember that there are 60 million Americans, roughly, who never saw The Sopranos on HBO. They don't have HBO, and apparently neither rent DVD's or engage in "antisocial" downloading behavior.
Here in Canada, of course, Canadian network CTV made a big splash by rerunning Sopranos afer its premiere on our own Pay Networks, TMN out east and Movie Central out west.
The most interesting part of the article, though, is the part where they walk the spin. Predictably (and you should maybe take this with a large grain of salt) they don't have to change too much. In Sopranos? You fuckin' kiddin me? Well. Apparently not. Here's why:
As A&E works its way through the project — it is currently deep into screening episodes from the first two seasons — Mr. DeBitetto says that he has already been surprised by one dynamic: that the network has actually had to designate very little to cut. On average, it has trimmed less than 30 seconds from each episode, which can run from 45 minutes to nearly an hour. One reason, Mr. DeBitetto said, is that so much of the tension in "The Sopranos" hinges on the unseen anticipation of violence. And when someone does die in a "rubout" or "whack," Mr. DeBitetto said, those scenes are often no more gruesome than those one might see on a drama like "24" on broadcast television.
In such instances, loyal viewers may be hard-pressed to determine what exactly A&E has retouched. For example, in one scene from the first season, two of Tony's lieutenants, Silvio (played by Steven Van Zandt) and Christopher (Michael Imperioli), put a bullet through the head of a quivering turncoat who has been found to be wearing a wire. In the edited scene, as in the original, blood splatters on a nearby wall. All that is missing in the edited version of the shot is perhaps two seconds of film in which what appeared to be a chunk of brain matter began to slither down an air-conditioning unit.
This is worth keeping in mind. Hollywood movies used to know how to do this, too. I still cringe in fear at Hitchcock films, because he knew so well how to build the tension. I mean, really, look at Rear Window or The Birds. There's nothing there that you couldn't show an eight year old, except for the fact that if they watched closely, you might, you know, scar them for life. Rosemary's Baby is laughably tame by modern standards. So why does the movie scare the shit out of me?
Much is made of the freedom of cable. But we tend to forget that sometimes, as writers, it's the limitations of the frame we have to work within that can be our salvation. Whether it's having to constrain your story to four or five acts, or dealing with the implications and anticipation of violence, rather than let it all hang out, SAW or HOSTEL style -- there's something to be said for limitation; simply in the way that it forces you to dramatize rather than shock, and tease rather than bludgeon.
I'm not that surprised that so much of The Sopranos can actually be preserved -- but I am a little skeptical, or at least interested, to see if it does as well for A&E as they need it to.
I wrote some time ago -- in one of the spec script posts, I think -- that most television can be listened to, rather than watched. It's very dialogue-driven -- perhaps a throwback to the days when everyone was doing four things in front of the TV, like homework and making out and the ironing.
But Sopranos is a big exception to that rule. The series is very visual, and if you're not watching, and watching closely, you can miss important moments.
I wonder if your average inattentive American viewer -- the great untapped market that has never seen The Sopranos -- will respond to it the way A&E wants it to. After all, this is the big roll-the-dice replacement for Law & Order. And if there was ever a TV-that's-really-radio show on TV, it's Law & Order.
Monday, May 8, 2006
Dyslexic Scrubs Nerds Untie!
Sorry. That's just low blood sugar talking. One of my favorite shows meets one of my favorite stupid jokes.
Diane Kristine over at Unified Theory of Nothing Much continues her peerless reportage of all things TV with this Q&A with Scrubs creator Bill Lawrence.
My favorite part, of course, because I'm a sad, sad narcissist, is where she picks up on an earlier post of mine. Lawrence's answer to that question is particularly interesting:
Long before I got into television, I remember the last time the "sitcom was dead."
There were all these articles talking about how the sitcom was over. Then, that fall -- The Cosby Show premiered. The last time the drama was dead, I believe, E.R. premiered that fall.
Let pundits and TV writers make the prognostications. If you're an artist and a writer, I think at the end of the day, your only choice is to play the long game.
Diane Kristine over at Unified Theory of Nothing Much continues her peerless reportage of all things TV with this Q&A with Scrubs creator Bill Lawrence.
My favorite part, of course, because I'm a sad, sad narcissist, is where she picks up on an earlier post of mine. Lawrence's answer to that question is particularly interesting:
BL: Here's the deal. Hollywood, especially networks and studios, they love to see what the trends are. Most recently, one of the things people have been saying is the sitcom's dead, three-camera sitcoms are dead. Before that, it was dramas are dead. And before that, it was sitcoms are dead. Now it's going to be reality is dead. It's a never-ending cycle.
It's all just hogwash, first of all. The only thing that's really changed in television is that people have so many options. My dad, who's 60, has 150 channels and will tell me about shows he likes that I've never heard of before. The one thing you have to realize is that sitcoms aren't dead. It's just that crappy television is dead. I think it's so competitive out there right now that a middle-of-the-road show that's just OK, nothing special, isn't going to survive the way it used to.
Because of that, I think you have one of two options. If you're super, super lucky, you have one of those giant hits that just grabs the public zeitgeist, whether it's Grey's Anatomy or American Idol or one of those shows that seems like a giant steamroller that everybody in the world watches. In which case, you get to sit back and celebrate. If you aren't that, I feel the only way to survive is to become a cult show, in the sense that your core audience is so loyal that they will follow you and stick with you and truly keep your show alive and successful for the network.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer is a great example of this. It was never a huge hit, but had such a loyal cult following that it basically drove that show into long-term success. The Family Guy, their cult following put that show back on the air. For us, for Scrubs, that's what we're so grateful for. Because we weren't a huge financial asset for NBC, the show's had I think seven or eight timeslots in five years. Luckily our fans are so loyal, that same core group has followed us from timeslot to timeslot and from evening to evening and really helped to keep the show going.
Long before I got into television, I remember the last time the "sitcom was dead."
There were all these articles talking about how the sitcom was over. Then, that fall -- The Cosby Show premiered. The last time the drama was dead, I believe, E.R. premiered that fall.
Let pundits and TV writers make the prognostications. If you're an artist and a writer, I think at the end of the day, your only choice is to play the long game.
Acing the Meetup & Social Trickery 101
Last week I met a fellow writer for a drink. (Okay, full disclosure: I had four. But she had 'a drink.' )
It was a referral from a colleague, just a normal sort of meet and greet to try and suss out and connect to future talent. You still can't shake the feeling that it's kind of like a job interview.
So I fired questions out -- what are your favorite TV shows; what do you like to read; what do you do when you're not writing; how did you come to writing; what's your experience; who've you worked with; what are you passionate about; where have you been; what's important to you?
I know these questions can be daunting, especially fired all in a row like that. I have a friendly demeanor, so that cuts it a bit. But if you notice anything in the pattern of the questions above, let it be this: I'm trying to find out as much about the person as the experience or taste they bring to writing. Because that's an important part of the collaborative process. I don't know who said it originally, but I know that Ken Levine has opined recently that you have to find a person that you could stand to drive cross-country with. Collaboration in TV means lots of long hours, weird times, strange intimacies (get your mind out of the guttter, I don't mean that way) and a whole lot of time spent with someone. So you kind of need to know who they are.
And no, you'll never get that out of one meeting. But that first meeting is important.
Getting to it is even more so.
The first thing that impressed me about the writer I met last week was her persistence. She emailed me several times -- never pushy, always leaving a respectful distance between queries, until we nailed down the meeting time. A lot of people screw that up right off the bat -- either by not following up (I have one focus when I'm writing, and that's the script I'm working on; I can be bad about getting back to people. Yup, it's a flaw, but it's also the flaw that makes it bearable to ride it out when people aren't getting back to me) or by being too forceful (cue the thoughts of the boiling bunny scene from Fatal Attraction.)
As in all conversations, things naturally progressed to the finding of common ground. We found out that we're kind of a similar type. I don't remember if I've said this before, so forgive me if I have, but I think personality-wise, most television writers are a mix of extrovert and introvert.
The true extroverts can never hack it, because there's so much time spent alone that it drives you crazy after awhile. And I think that true introverts, unless their pages are truly, truly stellar, are never going to make it, because so much of this job is constantly pitching, and re-pitching your ideas -- whether in a meeting or in the room, or to a producer, or to a network, or even -- if you magically make it to production -- a real live actor or director. If you're a real wallflower, you're not going to have much of a chance to show your bloom. You gotta be witty and odd and sharp and compelling.
When you're an extrovert-introvert, you sometimes need a way in. I know I'm bad in a social situation where I know NO ONE. That, I find daunting. Give me a few friendly faces, and I'll make my way just fine. But the funny thing is that because people who know me know me to be very gregarious and passionate, they assume I don't need the help -- even if I'm standing at the edge of the room, swimming in my own self-doubt and recrimination.
A lot of extrovert-introverts blanch at the thought of schmoozing. Schmoozing, of course, is smalltalk with intent. I've been schmoozed expertly and haplessly, and I've done both of those things myself. But it's just something you need to learn. It's not like having a 'no schmooze' rule will get you anywhere. There's a lot of starving and unemployed people with integrity.
So last week, I told this writer an anecdote that actually came from the wife of a friend of mine (and a friend of the blog, too, coinkidinkally.)
This person figures every time she goes to a party or social situation, you turn it into a game, and the game is this:
No matter what kind of person they are, no matter what they do, no matter how boring to you they seem, every person has at least one thing about them that's interesting.
Your job is to find that one thing out -- about everybody in the room.
I love this idea, because it kind of applies the craft of writing to a social situation. You have a task, (the project) there are lots of ways to achieve that task, (the craft) and it's a task you have to complete. (You have a deadline.)
And as a net bonus, you get to appear as a true extrovert and an active listener. Brilliant.
It was a referral from a colleague, just a normal sort of meet and greet to try and suss out and connect to future talent. You still can't shake the feeling that it's kind of like a job interview.
So I fired questions out -- what are your favorite TV shows; what do you like to read; what do you do when you're not writing; how did you come to writing; what's your experience; who've you worked with; what are you passionate about; where have you been; what's important to you?
I know these questions can be daunting, especially fired all in a row like that. I have a friendly demeanor, so that cuts it a bit. But if you notice anything in the pattern of the questions above, let it be this: I'm trying to find out as much about the person as the experience or taste they bring to writing. Because that's an important part of the collaborative process. I don't know who said it originally, but I know that Ken Levine has opined recently that you have to find a person that you could stand to drive cross-country with. Collaboration in TV means lots of long hours, weird times, strange intimacies (get your mind out of the guttter, I don't mean that way) and a whole lot of time spent with someone. So you kind of need to know who they are.
And no, you'll never get that out of one meeting. But that first meeting is important.
Getting to it is even more so.
The first thing that impressed me about the writer I met last week was her persistence. She emailed me several times -- never pushy, always leaving a respectful distance between queries, until we nailed down the meeting time. A lot of people screw that up right off the bat -- either by not following up (I have one focus when I'm writing, and that's the script I'm working on; I can be bad about getting back to people. Yup, it's a flaw, but it's also the flaw that makes it bearable to ride it out when people aren't getting back to me) or by being too forceful (cue the thoughts of the boiling bunny scene from Fatal Attraction.)
As in all conversations, things naturally progressed to the finding of common ground. We found out that we're kind of a similar type. I don't remember if I've said this before, so forgive me if I have, but I think personality-wise, most television writers are a mix of extrovert and introvert.
The true extroverts can never hack it, because there's so much time spent alone that it drives you crazy after awhile. And I think that true introverts, unless their pages are truly, truly stellar, are never going to make it, because so much of this job is constantly pitching, and re-pitching your ideas -- whether in a meeting or in the room, or to a producer, or to a network, or even -- if you magically make it to production -- a real live actor or director. If you're a real wallflower, you're not going to have much of a chance to show your bloom. You gotta be witty and odd and sharp and compelling.
When you're an extrovert-introvert, you sometimes need a way in. I know I'm bad in a social situation where I know NO ONE. That, I find daunting. Give me a few friendly faces, and I'll make my way just fine. But the funny thing is that because people who know me know me to be very gregarious and passionate, they assume I don't need the help -- even if I'm standing at the edge of the room, swimming in my own self-doubt and recrimination.
A lot of extrovert-introverts blanch at the thought of schmoozing. Schmoozing, of course, is smalltalk with intent. I've been schmoozed expertly and haplessly, and I've done both of those things myself. But it's just something you need to learn. It's not like having a 'no schmooze' rule will get you anywhere. There's a lot of starving and unemployed people with integrity.
So last week, I told this writer an anecdote that actually came from the wife of a friend of mine (and a friend of the blog, too, coinkidinkally.)
This person figures every time she goes to a party or social situation, you turn it into a game, and the game is this:
No matter what kind of person they are, no matter what they do, no matter how boring to you they seem, every person has at least one thing about them that's interesting.
Your job is to find that one thing out -- about everybody in the room.
I love this idea, because it kind of applies the craft of writing to a social situation. You have a task, (the project) there are lots of ways to achieve that task, (the craft) and it's a task you have to complete. (You have a deadline.)
And as a net bonus, you get to appear as a true extrovert and an active listener. Brilliant.
Sunday, May 7, 2006
HOUSE's David Shore nails Canadian Drama
The Globe & Mail's John Doyle had an interesting interview with HOUSE creator/executive producer (and showrunner, and Canadian) David Shore this weekend.
Highlights below. (Emphasis added is mine)
The odd time that I get a chance to catch a movie, I frequently walk out realizing that I could have stayed home and seen a better story, better told by just turning on the TV. Movies have too often become about the event while television is almost always about the story.
Q. Canadian TV, especially drama, seems to be in a permanent state of crisis. You were associated with two successful Canadian dramas, Due South and Traders. Do you have a prescription for reviving Canadian TV drama, or do you have a Dr. House-like skepticism about the problem?
A. I am skeptical. There is obviously a smaller market, and therefore less money and greater limitations, but I think the problems are deeper than that. I left Canada because I knew I had a lot to learn as a writer and I saw very few opportunities to do that without moving. In my opinion, Canadian television so often fails for the same reason American movies so often fail: They're not controlled by writers. Now I'm biased on this one and there are obviously great, smart directors out there and great, smart producers but no one knows the story like the writer. American movies are controlled by directors; Canadian television is controlled by producers; American television is controlled by writers.
How many times does it have to be said before Canadian TV types start to believe it? Mr. Stursberg? Mr. Clarkson? Hellll-ooo?
Interesting other observation to come out of the article...this makes two U.S. based showrunners who cut their teeth on TRADERS, Global's mid-1990's series set in the financial world of Bay Street. (Toronto's Wall Street, or The City)
Hart Hanson (Bones) developed TRADERS, and had a Canadian career. After that show he made the painful jump to the U.S., eventually moving up to showrun Judging Amy.
Shore already had a U.S. career, owing to his writing on Due South, which was created by his friend Paul Haggis, who despite our propensity for claiming the Canadian connection -- spent his whole career down in the U.S.
Global got a lot of stick for turning away from Drama after Traders, and the relaxing of Cancon regs in 1999. Yet of most recent Canadian dramas, it had the most solid, go for the commercial appeal construction -- and it's the one that's produced U.S. - style showrunners.
Whatever could it all mean?
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