MY DELIGHTFULLY MOROSE compatriot Rob Sheridan has pronounced United States of Tara (TMN/Movie Central, Monday nights, Showtime in the USA) "excruciating." He's called me long distance in Vancouver, and even changed his Facebook status message to taunt my lack of taste. Which only goes to prove, of course, that taste is subjective, and that someone else should please, please, please hire Rob to write some more comedy. Apparently, this is how it gets if people like us aren't working at least 80 hours a week.Really, the next step is cutting, people.
Anyway, today I want to talk about three shows, one returning, and two new. Each, I think, offers some interesting writing and story lessons for the television form. Besides Tara, I'd like to talk Secret Diary of a Call Girl and the pilot to FOX's Lie To Me -- which has the unenviable task of premiering against the return of LOST. (Set those PVR's, people -- Lie To Me is worth a look.)
Let's start with Tara. Okay, yes, if you hate Diablo Cody, you might have a problem here. The dialogue's not as stylized as that movie, but if you hated Juno, I don't see this series turning you around. The other thing that's difficult about the premiere is that they establish that Tara has three 'alters' but you don't meet the third, and arguably the most entertaining one -- until the second episode.
The pitch and press materials for this show were just so weird that I decided before I ever wrote about it, I was going to break out the only focus group I have personal access to. So it was that I slipped the preview disc into the DVD on Christmas night and watched it with my family. The group includes: Mother figure, late sixties. Likes The Closer and The Sopranos, also Brothers & Sisters. Father Figure, 70. Likes 24, Sopranos, and Brothers & Sisters. Hates Bad language. Sister Figure, 30's -- eclectic taste, urban thirtysomething demo, likes probably what you'd expect from that demo, only minus most reality, and probably a little hipper than the norm.
Father figure shifted uncomfortably through the first ep. But he did not fall asleep, which is a good sign. So far so good. At the end of episode one, everyone wanted to keep going through episode two.
In the pilot of Tara, we meet two of Tara's "alters." T is sexually aggressive and 16, and Buck is a beer swilling, male Vietnam vet. We get a sense of the rules of the world -- the emergence of the 'alters' is triggered by some stress that Tara can't handle on her own. In the Pilot, this turns out to be the discovery that her daughter is sexually active, and later, seeing her daughter slightly manhandled and roughed up by her dickhead boyfriend.
What I liked about this pilot was the sense of joining a family treating something that's clearly outrageous as normal. They teach you in comedy that there are two ways to make a comedy -- make a big deal out of a little thing, or treat something completely crazy as utterly normal. Tara definitely takes from the latter stream.
And because there's this thing at the centre of the drama that's so out there and crazy (Mom has multiple personalties!) and no one in the drama treats it as surprising, it immediately establishes a world whose contours and history hint at a much longer continuity. You're playing catchup in the pilot for Tara for the entire episode. From John Corbett's world-weary husband to the understated performances of the two kids, the utter lack of surprise everyone has with the emergence of the personalities completely rejigs your sense of 'normal.'
In my case, what that meant is that rather than focusing on the freakshow, I paid way more attention to the family supporting characters. The teenage daughter gets some scabrous, Juno-like lines, and they're not afraid to flirt with making her unlikable. And the son is quirky, and clearly smart, and clearly gay. And the world weary Corbett, and his elucidation of the rules, gives you the essential info early: they've been dealing with this for a long, long time. This is 'normal' for them.
I found that compelling, and it drew me in because it was surprising. A show where the mom had multiple personalities and it was an utter clusterfuck all the time would actually have been a lot less interesting.
The plot mechanics, because of the personality stuff, is by necessity, thin. Basically Tara discovers that her daughter got a morning after pill, that triggers the emergence of the teenage personality, that runs its course. Next day, Mom drives something to school for daughter and sees her roughed up by same BF, which triggers 2nd personality, Buck. There's a bit of drama around will Buck go to the recital. Eventually he does, and daughter is a little mortified, but moreso when Buck kicks boyfriend's ass in the parking lot.
Basically that's it.
Along the way there's a couple of other devices that are employed that I found interesting. First, just in case you are freaked out and skeptical and thinking this is too crazy -- Rosemarie DeWitt shows up as Tara's sister -- who proceeds to voice all your doubts about the condition, and the life as Tara's family lives it. It's kind of like a valve.
The second thing is a built in little joke...the "Muffins of Triumph" that the son bakes for his sister before her dance recital. Multiple references to this by all the characters involved -- a little family tradition and in joke that's never explained -- gives the family a sort of 'lived in' feel. They have traditions that go beyond managing their crazy mother. Nice touch.
Having worked hard to tell you that the family of the Mom with Dissociative Personality Disorder is fine with it, they pull the rug out from under that for Ep.2. The son doesn't want Mom to deal with the teacher that's tormenting him. The Daughter is mortified in the aftermath of her mom beating up her boyfriend. It all comes to a head when the heretofore unseen third personality emerges -- Alice, who is the 50's housewife from hell. She has a parent-teacher interview scene that's electric. And at a family dinner out that goes horribly wrong, the daughter winds up getting a job at an Applebee's like place, with manager Nat
e Corddry, whose creepy sad manager is one of the best things in Ep. 2, 3, and 4 of the show.I've met and interacted with a lot of weird families in my time. Families with kids with special needs. Families where a sibling died, or is in jail. Blended families, families with gay offspring who are accepted, and who aren't. After a while you realize that, as the book goes, All Families are Psychotic. The neat trick that United States of Tara does is show you the accepting and loving part of the family -- the accomodations made and acceptance offered, before it starts to ladle out the dysfunction.
Secret Diary of a Call Girl is based on the diaries of Belle Du Jour, a former London Call Girl. The first season of the show followed Billie Piper's Belle through the predictable series of problems a call girl might face: how do you keep your private life private? What does it do to your friends? What happens when a friend finds out? And also, the predictable parade of titillation -- threesomes, BDSM, the overnight client, etc, etc.
It was diverting watching, and well made, and Billie Piper's peformance was grand, but somehow the whole thing seemed...less...than it should be.
The 2nd season is much, much stronger for amping up the personal, serialized stake: Belle meets a guy and starts to date him and like him. Immediately, all the questions are messier. And the titillating reason you may have started watching the show is supplanted by a character in an impossible situation. They sucked you in on the sex, but they keep you with the drama. I'm not even sure I saw all of Season One's ep. But I can't wait to see more of season 2.

Finally, there's Lie To Me. This is a very, very slick pilot. It explains and sets the rules of the world really well, and teases you about Tim Roth's character. The man seems to have some sort of code about when and how he'll intervene and tell people when the people are lying.
How did that code develop? Why? All that's left for later eps. It's probably the most effective character intro since Dr. House.
Take note of the secondary characters, too: the perky and delightful second banana who's like Cuddy and Wilson and Cameron all in one... the 'new girl' who lets you get out most of the premise exposition, and the 1234th execution of the lovable nerd.
None of these characters, or the structure of the show is really groundbreaking. It's hipper than your average CBS drama, but it's definitely mainstream, and network-y in its outlook. The flash, such as it is, comes from taking a new wine in old bottles premise and taking the variation and executing it with such absolute brio that you have to like it. With this show, if it catches on, you could argue that the FOX drama is as identifiable as the CBS brand, or indeed, any of the cable networks -- who took the branding of their drama franchises to a new high over the last few years.
I can't really talk more about what else I liked about the show without revealing some packaging elements that you really need to see cold. But trust me when I say that this show makes its argument forcefully. The only question I have is what the legs might be. But then again, smart writers in a room -- I'm sure I just don't see it yet because I don't see it. Everything else about this show has winner written all over it. Please watch. Please. I could use another good network drama to watch.
Now...back to writing out beats. And later, a gathering of Vancouver's most dangerous screenwriters. Mmmm.
Tasty.
7 comments:
Well, I hated the muffins of triumph. Hated them. Hate hate hated them. That's a writer reaching in the worst way.
Quick story. Many years ago before I started doing this professionally (notice I didn't say "well," just professionally) I wrote a bad screenplay and gave it to Ken Finkleman to read. My girlfriend back then used to babysit for him, so I had a little "in" there.
The particulars of most of the script aren't important. It wasn't very good, and Ken said as much, which I hated him for at the time but naturally I later came to realize that this was probably more useful than empty praise.
At any rate, one of the things Ken singled out for particular scorn was that my main character, a recent university grad (as was I, not coincidentally) was depressed because his fiance had just thrown out his beloved college-era coffee maker, which the character had named "Joe." The script opened with the main character desperately searching through the dumpster for "Joe."
I don't recall Ken's exact words, but the long and short of it was "Who the fuck names their coffee maker?" Did you ever name a coffee maker? Ever had a friend name a coffee maker? No? Interesting."
He called bullshit on a bullshit idea in a bullshit script that came from a bullshit place. He was right to do it.
That's how I felt about "the muffins of triumph." No family, any time, anywhere, ever, ever, ever baked anything called the muffins of fucking triumph. It's just so totally emblematic of the kind of coy, cutesy, doesn't-exist-outside-of-a-hipster-screenwriter's-brain sort of idea at which Diablo Cody seems to excel. I'm not saying a writer can't invent things, but it needs to come from sort of place of reality.
One other thing. I've read a lot in the press clippings about how refreshing The United States of Tara is because it has no preconceptions of "normal." A lot of TV critics seem to be jerking themselves off to this stuff and convincing themselves it's somehow daring or honest. "Hey, yeah, man! Who's to say what's normal? Right on."
I have no idea what normal is. I'm willing to accept that the boundaries are flexible, and that few of us grew up in households without some measure of dysfunctionality.
Here's the thing: That's not a revelation. That's just being an adult and having some small perspective on the world. Anyone over the age of 18 who thinks that the notion of "there is no such thing is normal" is somehow a worthy artistic observation needs to pick up a fucking book every now and again.
I do, however, know what isn't normal, and it's not normal for a mother, no matter how many personalities she possesses, to stub her cigarette out in her pre-prebescent son's fresh-out-of-the-oven baked goods and for everyone in the scene to just laugh it off.
Well, no. I think that's actually tantamount to abuse, and in a non-Diablo universe where human interaction hasn't been reduced to a dash of wordplay and a wry arch of the eyebrow, child protective services would rightly be on the doorstep faster than you can say oh my blog.
Not only that, she stubbed it out in the muffins of triumph. The muffins of fucking triumph! Doesn't she know how important MOTs are in the life of a young boy?!
Mmm. Big numbers for the premiere on SHOWTIME.
How you like them muffins?
Still, great story Rob...and though I didn't 'hate' USOT, I can see how you could get to that place very easily.
Yes, it was a great story. And for the record, Rob has about 6 jobs right now. 8 if you count giving me shit about, oh, fifty hours a week.
I'm torn on things. Didn't like the MOTs, but liked the pilot of USOT (God bless acronyms). Haven't seen the second episode yet, but am also looking forward very much to the Nate Corddry character and the third alter.
But I agree that the MOTs are reaching, although I disagree that they are something that CAN'T happen outside of a cutesy screenwriter's head. Just because they happen more often there, doesn't preclude them from ever happening. In context as by necessity having come from a cutesy screenwriter though, yeah, they're a tad too precious.
One thing I am starting formulate an argument on though, is the difference between what makes this new, high-concept, female-centered dramedy so much more effective than a certain other new, high-concept, female-centered dramedy.
Basically, I'm trying to find a way to talk some yang about Being Erica. What Mr. Rob up there seems to feel for USOT, I've got a first-degree relative feeling for the CBC's newest dross. Maybe not quite as strong. I think I can make a parallel with the MOTs and Dr. Tom, who as a character and a storytelling device I cannot stand. But whereas the MOTs are a throwaway, peripheral element, Dr. Tom is near the center of the damn show. He feels like a writer's construction that is trying SO hard to be profound and edgy and crucial to a series of events and a story that I just want to reach into the TV and bury his head in his damn hot dog grill. The MOTs you could ignore. Dr. Tom? I'm afraid he's in it for the long haul.
In retrospect, I think maybe my bringing up the muffin thing is a false lead. The reality is that it's probably one of those things that you see through your prism: if you like the show, you accept it, because weird little things like that happen all the time. It's a tic like Kyra Sedgwick snacking in The Closer, or Telly Savalas' lollipop in Kojak, or Barney's millions of little character details on HIMYM. IF you don't like the show. It's false, forced, and fake. When I did theatre, I had a friend who brought me peanut brittle every time a play I wrote had its first performance. Why peanut brittle? I don't know. Never asked.
A couple weeks back they did the joke on HIMYM where every time Robin and Dude say a phrase that could be a military name, they salute. ie: major incident, private information, general anaesthetic. I thought that was a great little in joke because I have two friends from Uni who decided 20 years ago that we were the "Flying Lamache Brothers." everytime we see each other when we haven't for a while, we do a little handmotion and sing a few bars of "our song."
I like the show, it resonated for me, so I thought that was cute and real.
And someone else I know used it as the example of what they hate about "How I Met Your Mother."
That's the juice here, folks. We're always arguing over something subjective. You just have to trust that your instinct jibes with enough people that you can reach an audience and be successful. As Tara obviously did, and as Erica seems to be doing.
And vocab check -- I'm not sure you can call something "dross" and then walk it back. Dross is a great word, but let's save it for something truly, embarrassingly, awfully bad. Save Dross for Dross.
I stand abrogated (if grammatically I can do such a thing - and cuz I felt like using another fun word) on 'dross'. Erica does not quite qualify as such, and I'm still PVRing it, but just not so much that I felt compelled to watch last week's yet. It just feels like it could have been a home run. It could have taken its Wonderfalls notes and made something compelling and fun and dynamic and, yes, uniquely Canadian, but instead it's more than a little infuriating to sit through, at least from my and my lady's perspective. Which does speak to your point of personal subjectivity, also well taken.
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