Mickey Mouse Has Grown Up a Cow

One of the nice things about being a television writer is that sitting on your couch watching TV actually, no fooling, counts as research.

Now there are two types of writers I know. The first, and I think more prevalent type, are the ones who try to avoid watching anything similar when they're writing a script. A friend of mine who was developing a show about male friends avoided watching Entourage til his show was solid. If you're writing a cop show, you don't watch CSI or Law & Order, because you don't want to be influenced.

This kind of self-censorship, by the way, is way easier than actually trying to remember where your ideas come from. If you're aware of your ideas flowing, I find the spigot tends to get all crusty. And nobody wants a crusty spigot. There's a cream for that, but it smells kind of bad.

The easiest stories of unintentional influence come in the songwriting realm. A few years ago, the Stones settled because they unknowingly wrote a song that had more than a passing reference to the chord changes in a k.d. lang song...they settled becuase they thought, "yup, that probably did influence us." Not stole, understand. Influenced.

There was a similar thing years ago between Robert Palmer and Rod Stewart. Palmer recorded a song that sounded a whole lot like Rod's "Some Guys Have All the Luck," which, it turned out, was being recorded in the studio next door while Palmer was working there... the point is, the hyper-awareness of your creative process and "where things come from" is the first thing you have to let go of when you do this a lot. Because otherwise you'll go nuts before you ever get anything down on paper.

Every year I hear from some spec monkey about how their 'great idea' was stolen by so-and-so...never mind that the idea was a logical extension of what was in the news, or on the bestseller lists, or utterly derivative of something else... anyway, the point is that creativity and idea-generation cannot be a self-conscious exercise. And for some, when you're in that state, you can be highly suggestible. So those types tend to avoid similar stuff when they're creating.

I said there were two types of writers, and there are. I'm the second type. I love watching similar stuff when I'm working. Because you can find similarities in the strangest places, and strangest contexts. I find it makes me think about my own ideas in a different way -- and I don't really (or at least I don't think I do) become confused or hungup on what's coming from me and what's from them. I think that's because when I'm generating ideas and working them out, I can't really do anything else. I can barely read a Newspaper. But when things are banged into semi-coherent shape, I find that what helps me most is to watch things that have a similar element, but a vastly different treatment. It's almost like keeping yourself on the work track, while still being able to relax. Call it "recreationally staying in the wheelhouse."

One of my current projects is a show about a character in two eras. We play the story of the younger man in the 1960's against the story of him today in the 21st century, as an old man. Naturally, there's a mystery: something that happened then is having an effect now. And so on and so forth.

This script has been a real bear. I've done two of three episodes now, and the show's changed many times in development, as the broadcaster's vision of what they wanted evolved. At this point, I'm probably nine months into development on this, off and on...and it's easily the hardest thing I did in 2005.

So I eagerly and giddily tucked into a new BBC drama the other night. It's a show that I obtained through my highly placed TV monkey sources. I don't believe it's been on here yet. My guess is when it comes over to these shores, it'll likely show up on BBC America and BBC Canada.

Anyway, here's the premise of Life On Mars. Sam Tyler is a Detective Chief Inspector with the Manchester police force. They're chasing a serial killer. They get the wrong guy. His girlfriend, one of the other cops on the force, he's having an affair with her, see? And she has this idea that the suspect can lead them to the real killer, and...well, she gets nicked. And Sam is trying to collect himself, calm down, on the side of the road, see? And his Ipod is playing David Bowie's Life on Mars.

Then Sam steps out in the street and gets mowed down by a car.

When he wakes up, he's in 1973. His wallet says, Sam Tyler...he's a Detective Inspector, not a Chief Inspector. The highway he was beside hasn't been built yet. He wanders to the police station and finds a bunch of unrestructured, thug cops. There's no DNA testing...no computers, no mobile phones. Getting prints analysed takes two weeks. Everything's on Paper files.

What the hell is going on?

Through the course of the narrative, there's not just the fish out of water stuff, but there's also the ambiguous hints that , hey, is Sam in a coma inventing all this? Or did he somehow really travel back to 1973? There's evidence for both sides. What is true is that the case he was following in 2006 seems to have a connection here. But to follow that lead, he's going to need to convince his less sophisticated cop brethren to see through their swagger and embrace some new methods...like, oh, trusting women and stuff. Top performances from John Simm and Philip Gleinster.

The description doesn't make it sound like the best thing ever. But there's something haunting and terribly, terribly inventive about this show. For all the fooferal over Threshold and Invasion and the return of Sci Fi to tv -- Life On Mars is easily the trippiest and most compelling time travel thing I've seen in a while. A nice subversion of a lot of different genres and storytelling tropes...Life On Mars has more than a bit of Potter's amazing Singing Detective to it. There are seven more episodes to come. And I'll be looking forward to all of them.

And maybe they'll inspire me to return to my dual-era show with new vigour.

The Life On Mars site at BBC is here.

Jacks or Better...

Four Kings tonight?

Not bad. Watchable. Ladies and gentlemen, meet the rule of three.

That's why, much to my chagrin, most of the time I will always give a show a second chance. Especially when it comes from the pedigree of those guys.

I still don't know if it will play over time, but I found the characters more likable and the situation less forced tonight. I still don't see how you get 22. But at least I laughed.

Not John Stewart laughed, but still.

By the way, anyone who writes a spec script without taping and logging three episodes first is a poopy weakling.

Macallan 25

That's what Daddy gets to have every time he ships out a 1st draft.

Just one.

Sherry Wood.

Daddy is happy.

Stop the meme, I want to get off.

So I guess the meme is winding down, but there was a wrinkle when someone posted a challenge about, "what's your favorite line that you've written?"

I find these days I have trouble remembering scripts once they ship out the door. Quite to the contrary of every standup I've ever worked with, who'll claim every line like it was birthed from their own loins, I tend to forget (in a production room) what I wrote and what the room came up with. For instance, I no longer have any clear idea what the hell I wrote or came up with on Charlie Jade. I think this is a delightful coping strategy.

However, I've been doing mostly development lately. And in the end the lines you love most, I think, are the ones that make you laugh. Sometimes against all reason.

In one of my recent comedy pilots, a group of students in residence throw a Canadian Thanksgiving. Through hijinks, two of the characters wind up having to deep fry a turkey. Amidst discussions of the (not inconsiderable) danger involved, one comes across something he's never seen. The character, TED, is a sweet Inuit guy who's in his fifth year of undergrad. He asks his friend if he's ever heard of a "turducken," the famous turkey stuffed with a duck, stuffed with a chicken. Then he comments:

If someone showed up in my village with a bird like that...we’d have made him a shaman.

I don't know. That just makes me laugh. And that's why I started in this silly business anyway.

Now, I just hope the network greenlights me.

Tagged!

Well, the Mad Pulp Bastard Bill Cunningham tagged me with a Fun Joel meme, and because I'm self-involved and procrastinating and a little hungover I have no choice but to follow blindly, just as I always did in the schoolyard. Here's the deal...

What was your earliest film-related memory?

I have a vague and happy recollection of being taken to the animated Disney version of Robin Hood, at a theater in New City, New York, where we moved after we decamped from the Bronx, and where I lived til the end of 1st grade. It was a theater in the same plaza as a Stop & Shop and the Bradlees. The other early film memory I have is when we moved to Florida. Disney had this thing where they would show movies in one of the Hotels of Walt Disney World. My Dad would get the tip on what hotel they were showing in and we, as a family, would crash. The only downside was you never knew which movie would be showing. I think I saw Darby O'Gill and the Little People three times. Is that why Sean Connery makes me want to cry? Or is it Zardoz? I can't figure for sure.

Name two favorite lines from movies:

"You know, Rick, I have many a friend in Casablanca, but somehow, just because you despise me, you are the only one I trust." - Peter Lorre in Casablanca

"I want more life...fucker." -Rutger Hauer in Blade Runner

Jobs You'd Do if You Could Not Work In "The Biz":

-Sadly....lawyer.
-Disaffected Record Store Employee
-Marine Biologist. Fuck, I don't know. What do you mean, if I couldn't work in the Biz? I was a TV producer for ten years and was pretty good at that. Too bad about the hating it.

Name four jobs you have actually held outside The Industry.

-washed soft drink syrup tanks in the 7up plant. It was The Death of Hope.
-Video Store Clerk; Yes, I was Randall from Clerks.
-Sold ads in a "business directory" for a shady type. Lasted two weeks.
-helped produce and write a corporate video for the CAW. Look for the union label.

Three book authors I like:

John Irving. Nick Hornby. Chuck Klosterman.

Name two movies you would like to remake or properties you'd like to adapt:

A book: The Republic of Love by Carol Shields. Deepa Mehta filmed it, and totally messed it up.

Hooper. Yes. I said it. Hooper. Deal with it.

Name one screenwriter you think is underrated:

All of them. Yup. That's a punt.
The other answer, of course, would be "me."

Three people I'm tagging to answer this meme next:

Alex Epstein
Diane Kristine
Matt Watts

HOUSE Does DMc -- In Spades.

I've often remarked to friends that I'm just smart enough to watch HOUSE, but not smart enough to write it. I know, I know, were I to write HOUSE, I'd have lots of medical researchers to help me out -- but the very nature of this medical show -- A Rubik's puzzle that illuminates the very real, and yet very scary (and very absent from television) notion that Doctors, God love'em, are guessing. Guessing based on a preponderance of evidence and observation, but, you know...still.

From the earliest days of HOUSE, I've had an idea. It was an idea that I never thought I'd pursue, not in a million years. I didn't think I would pursue it because I knew it was such an interesting medical condition that eventually they would get to it.

The condition was aphasia. Aphasia, for those who didn't watch, is a neurological condition which can be caused by a number of factors, where the patient thinks that they're communicating, they can understand what's being said to them, but when they speak, it comes out as gibberish. Anyone who's ever suffered through a family member who's had a stroke probably knows more about this than me. But to me it is the perfect metaphor, and also the perfect conundrum for Dr. Greg House. He already believes (with evidence amply supplied through a season and a half of shows) that everybody lies. So what happens if you can't even challenge the patient? What happens when they can't tell you the truth -- or if you can't even pick through their lies, because you don't understand what they're saying?

That was my idea. As I said, I never thought of writing that as a spec script, because I knew they'd get there eventually, and my script would be dross.

So tonight they do that story, and the devil, my friends, as always -- lives in the details. First, the sufferer/patient is a journalist. A truth teller. Nice. Is he lying? Of course. It's HOUSE. How does House expose him? It's really hard. Because the whole time he's six hundred miles away making out with his Ex-Wife in snowed-in Baltimore.

Man. I salute you. This is the thing, chickens. Over the years, I've advised a lot of people about those first all important spec scripts. I've laughed and commisserated as people saw their ideas scooped, and done by the show. Most specs I have in my library were eventually invalidated by the show itself. Sometimes, my take was better. Often, it wasn't.

But moaning and bitching aint the NFL kids. No one's asking you to write a spec. When you tamp out that Smallville or Commander in Chief or My Name is Earl, it doesn't just have to be a typical episode -- it has to be way better than a typical episode.

It has to take that great idea I had about aphasia -- and plus it...just like HOUSE did last night.

Which, at the end of the day, is why they're pricing new Priuses and split levels in Silver Lake and I'm in Canada. Their take on my idea? Way, way, way, way better than I ever considered. Man, I enjoyed it.

I still can't believe HOUSE is a popular show. Thank you, American Idol. I forgive some of what you've wrought.

Handicapped

So James Frey got caught. Sorry, Oprah.

And JT Leroy isn't an HIV + ex-street kid; he's a 40-year-old woman.

You know, what I have to say on this is very simple.

I'm a white kid who got moved around a couple times by my parents. Good for you, Mom and Dad, for getting me out of the South Bronx. That probably wouldn't have proved to be rich ground for a memoir. Oh no.

So okay, I live in a foreign country. Occasionally I got teased for having an accent. I'm forever fighting my waistline. I got held up at gunpoint in a bar a few years ago. But I've never OD'd. I've never once spent a night in jail. I haven't huffed, discharged a firearm, or had my stomach pumped. I've never been brought home by the cops. Never sold my blood or plasma for money. Never been in a bar fight. Yes, I had nine years of catechism, and three years as a Catholic altar boy, but in that time, I was never once touched inappropriately; hell, they never even gave me a swig of the sacrificial wine.

And yet now, here I am, trying to make it as a writer.

Mom. Dad. Little Sister #1, Little Sister #2 -- I blame you.
Thanks for the happy childhood. Thanks for %$#@% nothing.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go make shit up.

Emily's Reasons Why Not

1) Because Heather Graham not being able to find a man is the stupid kind of "that would never, ever happen" science fiction. If that's going to be the kickoff of your series, your main character better travel using the TARDIS.

2) Because she was funnier on Scrubs, and deserves writing at that level - cause she can actually do it.

3) Because, as a straight man, I will confess right now that all of us straight men pretended to like this show already -- when it was on HBO with the older woman and the prissy one and the strangely hot man eating one and the one that we were pretty sure was a guy.

4) Because Nadja Dajani also deserves better.

5) Because by comparison, it actually made Jake In Progress look funny. And that cannot be forgiven.

The Devil & Daniel Webster

So The Book of Daniel came, and the people who freak out at such things freaked out.

I thought it was a pretty genial, sympathetic show about the good parts of The Bible. You know, the forgiving parts. It upsets me to think that in this battle of fundamentalism in which we're now embroiled, the one truism seems to be that God can't have a sense of humor. (I mean, really, the giraffe and the platypus and New Jersey to the contrary.)

Aidan Quinn's a very likable actor who carries off the part of a troubled and overwhelmed clergyman with aplomb. His talks with Jesus play not quite as santimoniously as on Joan of Arcadia, which is probably a good thing.

It actually put me in mind of The Last Temptation of Christ a little bit. Long after my faith had started to flag and wane, seeing that movie revived things a bit. After years of having Christ's divinity pounded into you, the portrayal of his humanity did a whole lot more to make me appreciate the mysteries of my faith than Mel Gibson's violent porn show ever could.

Now that the right wing wack jobs have total control in the USA, (but still get to whine like someone's actually trying to take stuff away from them) I think the values embedded in shows like The Book of Daniel could provide a tonic. If NBC doesn't cave in, all afraid, that is.

Although, gotta admit, seeing Garret Dillahunt (left, with Aidan Quinn) as Jesus is weird after being creeped out by him all through Deadwood's season two.

Historically, Daniel Webster was the best President the United States never had. A man famous for compromise, who got things moving and solved through finding a middle ground. That strikes me as a very good quality for a man of faith, and a very rare quality in the public discourse today.

And let's not forget that in literature, Daniel Webster out-argued the Devil.

Hope he gets the chance to do the same on NBC. But I shant hold my breath.

UPDATE: for another take (negative) on the show -- but refreshingly, not a crazy (or unfair) one -- check out Salon's review by the Real Live Preacher.