JaneEspenson.com
Home of Jane's blog on writing for television-
February 3rd, 2008On Writing
I will be up at NBC Burbank tomorrow (mid-)morning, picketing my little heart out. If it’s true that we’re wrapping this thing up, this may be one of your last chances to see TV writers on the hoof! If we’re not wrapping this thing up, well then, we could use your support. Come on out and heft a sign and say ‘hi’!
-
February 2nd, 2008On Writing
In looking over my last post, I think I should point out that the examples I cited aren’t only used to delay the arrival of a pun. They’re also generally part of a joke in themselves, in which a character, searching for a polite way to say something, comes up with the most impolite way possible. It usually looks like this:
He was — how can I put this delicately? — a rat-bastard.
Again, I object on the grounds that the joke is painfully familiar and hopelessly telegraphed. Once you hit the word “delicately,” you know what the joke is. The only possible pay-off that’ll surprise the reader/audience is the particular choice of epithet that’s coming along next. And they’re still going to wince at the utter clamminess of the set-up.
That doesn’t mean that you can’t mine this joke area. The idea of someone trying to find an inoffensive word and failing has some humor potential. Just put in the extra effort and see if you can find another way to get there. For example, maybe you could have your character, realizing they’re in mixed company, suppress the word they’re looking for, then scream “rat-bastard!” half-way through the next page in the middle of someone else’s heartfelt line. Same joke area, much bigger pay-off.
There’s a good general lesson there, of course. Don’t throw the chowder out with the clams. Often the general idea of a joke is good, even if the execution of one particular take on that idea has gone bad.
Lunch: cheese and crackers with real-sugar Coke, not corn-syrup Coke. It’s imported from Mexico. You can find it if you know where to look.
-
January 30th, 2008Comedy, On Writing, Spec Scripts
Periodically, I talk about “clams,” overused jokes that should be excised from your writing. I’m talking about (singsong) “Awkward!” and its sweaty companions “That went well” and “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” and so forth.
There’s a related phenomenon that has bugged me for a long time, but that I haven’t commented on before. These aren’t overused jokes, exactly, but overused timing devices that get built into jokes. Look at this line, which might well occur in a sitcom spec script:
She was, how shall I put this, a well-rounded applicant.
Believe it or not, the thing that bugs me here isn’t the punishing use of “well-rounded.” I’m numb to that. What bothers me is the “how shall I put this.” That little phrase is there to time the joke, to delay the punch so it lands harder. It drumrolls the joke instead of throwing it away. Since this little phrase is never used (at least never in comedy scripts) by a character genuinely searching for the right word without a comedic payoff, it always feels like a self-conscious request for a laugh. No! Don’t beg!
Other examples, identical in intent, include “what’s the word I’m looking for,” which seems to me even more blatant, and “how you say,” which is reserved for characters with thick foreign accents. Oh my.
A similar device, used more by pundits than sitcom writers, is to claim “pun not intended” immediately before or after cracking a pun, thereby calling attention to it. I’ve got nothing against a clever pun, but I think they’re best dealt smoothly from your hand and placed softly on the table without fanfare.
Lunch: Ribs USA. Have I told you about their French fries drenched in hot-wings sauce? Go there at once.
-
January 28th, 2008Comedy, From the Mailbag, On Writing, Spec Scripts
Another action-packed day on the picket line today, Gentle Readers. I was at my new default location, Fox, which was also home to the SAG/WGA Unity picket today. What a mob scene! Speeches! Writers! Dogs! Wind! Batemans!
The wind was fierce, snapping Joss Whedon’s picket stick and sending the sign whipping backwards where it narrowly missed taking out 20 plus or minus 5 percent of the staff of Numb3rs.
I had a long and interesting conversation about comedy with another former colleague. We talked a bit about the comedy gold that comes with smart people acting stupid. Thinking about it later, it seems to me that the key concept might be “pettiness.” The whole idea of focusing on something small, especially in the face of larger problems, is funny and identifiable. It’s hard to find a comedic supporting character of the Frank Burns or Ted Baxter variety who isn’t petty. But often the best moments of comedic leads, who have to be more likable, come from this same trait, as well. Frasier’s need to appear sophisticated, Jamie’s desire to be liked by her neighbors on Mad About You, Jerry’s every move on Seinfeld… they came out of a highly focused need that from the outside appears petty. It’s not an alienating quality like jealousy or meanness. It’s highly identifiable and the nature of what prompts the pettiness tells the audience huge amounts about the character.
If you’re struggling with a comedy script because you’re having a hard time making a central character both flawed and likable, ask yourself the question, “What would make this character act petty?” It’s a variant on “What do they want?” that could put you on a humorous path.
If you want more comedy advice, I’ve got the place for you. I hear that “Teaching Thursday” over on the Warner Brothers’ picket line is a huge success so far. Here’s an update from the organizers:
For our second Teaching Thursday hilarity will ensue! It’s MULTI-CAMERA COMEDY DAY! Not sure how to write for geeks when you’re tragically hip? The cool kids from “The Big Bang Theory” have answers! Want to know how to get your own personal studio audience? Writers from “The War At Home” know! And remember: If it rains on our heads, it’s tragic. If it rains on yours, it’s comedy gold!The usual disclaimers:
If you’re a writer for a Multi-Camera Comedy (or have been one) and want to show up, please know:
No one will solicit you to read their brilliant spec script. No one will ask for your phone number or email address. No one will expect anything of you other than your ability to answer some story/structure/dialogue questions.
If you’re an aspiring who wants to take advantage of getting some truly great advice from the folks who have lived, eaten, breathed it:
Definitely join us — all you need to do is pick up a sign! What you should not do: solicit the writers to read your brilliant spec script. Do not ask for phone numbers or email addresses. Do expect brilliance, because that’s what you’ll get!
MULTI-CAMERA COMEDY DAY: Thursday January 31st, 9 AM-12 PM, Warner Bros Gate 2.
I won’t be there for this event, although I plan to join in when and if they conduct a “light drama” or “vampire slaying” or “spaceship” day.
Lunch: sushi at Echigo again. Warrrrm rice.
-
January 25th, 2008Comedy, On Writing, Spec Scripts
Want another way into the business? I now know of two playwrights who were — get this — invited into television.
One of them was a colleague of mine from the ABC/Disney writers’ program, and the other was a young woman whom I met the other day on the picket line. Both of them were young playwrights recruited into television without them reaching out for it — someone with television connections attended a play and then things happened.
I don’t think this happens a lot, but it is certainly illustrative of a larger truth — if you want to write, go out and write. Write spec scripts for contests, look for writers’ assistant jobs, absolutely, but if you can also establish yourself as a respected writer of plays, short stories, novels, non-fiction books, essays, reviews, recaps, comedy pieces, columns, profiles or as a journalist, you will doing yourself a tremendous favor when it comes to making an impression in Hollywood. You probably won’t get recruited, as my two examples were, but then again, it’s certainly more likely than if you’re not out establishing yourself as some kind of a writer!
Lunch: quesadillas