Ryan's been musing on her Chicago Tribune blog over TV storytelling and what kinds of stories work, and what kinds don't. She riffs off a piece that Jane Espenson wrote for the New Republic , dealing with SF narratives, which posits that audiences gravitate toward "The Chosen One," stories...comforting hero narratives. Most of the Sci-Fi that doesn't catch on doesn't catch on because it lacks this dimension. Interesting theory.
Where Ryan takes it further, though, is into the soup of what we who create TV do when we're doing what we do. (Doobie doobie do.)
I'm not sure I've ever heard it described so well:
Many TV shows similarly have an interesting, well-told "cover story" -- and a subtext that's just as intriguing, if not more intriguing.
This "TV disguise" is actually something I've thought about a lot -- many of the cleverest shows on TV use it to great effect.
For instance, I think "Battlestar Galactica" isn't just a satisfying tale of survivors on the run from extermination. It is that, on one level, but wrapped inside that overall structure is a meditation on governing, power, the tension between the military and civilians and an exploration of what human beings will do to each other -- and for each other -- when the "normal" restrictions of human society are taken away.
Likewise, I've always thought "House" is really a weekly ethics seminar. What is moral behavior? What constitutes brutal disregard for others and what constitutes selfless adherence to well-defined ideals? What's the definition of violating a person's individual rights, and when is it OK to ignore those rights in order to save a life? Those kinds of discussions and arguments between House and his staff, or House and Wilson, could be taking place in a graduate philosophy seminar. Lucky for us they take place within a tightly constructed mystery story.
"The Sopranos"? A gangster's tale, to be sure, but also a deeply resonant examination of materialism and what the definition of manhood is in the 21st century.
Would you believe that I think "Deadwood" is, on one level, a treatise on government as well? After all, if you put aside the boozing and the swearing and so forth, the show's really about how people on the edge of a lawless frontier choose to rule themselves.
And way back in the day, I used to think "Grey's Anatomy" was an interesting take on how friendship and ambition collided. Now I'm not sure what it's about, except about how desperate TV writers often seem to be driven by a desire to make their characters as illogical, unlikable and inconsistent as possible.
I've often thought that the smartest TV writers find an idea or a set of challenging ideas that they want to explore, and then find a TV-friendly format that will allow them to do that.
After all, a TV executive who gets a pitch on "a weekly morality seminar" is pretty likely to pass. "A cranky but charismatic doctor saves lives in an unorthodox way" -- sold!
Though I'm in the middle of storybreak hell, I'm also dipping my toe back into development for the first time since Across The River To Motor City got made last year. (It's coming this fall -- I swear to Dog, just waiting for the date...) I took a long break from developing my own projects after that, because 2005-2006 had me juggling three. It was a hard slog, and after all that, the tank was low.
Now, in my copious free time (nights and sleep hours) and those times when I'm banging my head against the wall for my current project, I'm starting to think through two new concepts. I have pitch documents for both, and my agents are putting them out there. There's a lot that's fluid in a concept at that stage. But what's essentially true about what Ryan's written is this: I know, deep down, what I want the shows to be about. I try to put enough of that into the pitch document to intrigue, but not scare people. After that, you really do range a bit to find the best characters, form, storytelling style and format to dramatize those big ideas.
I can't help but think that one of the things that's holding us back in some quarters of Canadian drama is that we don't do enough to make that leap. I've seen a lot of recent shows that were about their underlying ideas -- but...not much else. The characters and storytelling weren't worked through enough to support that underlying framework. I call it "broccoli tv."
I've been seeing a lot of shows where they sell the morality lesson without coming up with Dr. House. That's partly a network thing, and partly a creator thing, and partly a flaw in the development thing. Given a chance, a network person will always want to talk about big things rather than plot or story, because they might not be good about plot and story, but everyone's got an opinion on women's suffrage or preemptive war or rehabilitation vs. incarceration...And it's pretty easy for writers to fall into that trap, too. Because finding the right form and absolutely the right characters -- well, that's the hard part. But it's also the part that the audience expects you to do. They want you to do that work.
Shows where you make the audience do all that work, like, oh, say, John From Cincinatti, well, they may be interesting, and curiosity-sparking. But they won't be loved. I really believe that.
Lost and Gilligan's Island are the same show -- except, of course, they're not. Cause they worked it, and worked it, and worked it. And then they threw in a polar bear, but who's gonna nitpick that?
I think Ryan's words are something that any TV scribe, experienced or non, should keep going back to.
The underlying stuff is great. It's what feeds you as a writer. But it's not the bulk of your work. Craft demands more.







