How to begin a pilot

Let’s say I’m given a pilot to write. And for whatever reason, this has to be my first scene: Young guy brings the girl he’s recently dated back to her place. She invites him in the for the first time. He’s excited because he figures he’s going to get laid. But when they step inside he learns that her ex-fiancé is on the couch. He still lives there.

Okay. That could be funny.

Actually, it better be. Pilots are much harder to write than normal episodes and the first scenes of pilots are the hardest of all. Why? Here’s what you have to do: Establish the premise, introduce the characters, begin a story, forge the tone, and make it really funny. As the expression goes: You only have one chance to make a first impression. That first scene has to hook the audience. Viewers have to feel they’re in good hands; that they will be rewarded for spending their precious time sampling your pilot for thirty minutes.

So that’s my assignment.

First, a disclaimer. I realize I’m old school, retro, out of touch, whatever. My approach is based on experience, a certain sensibility, and principles I believe to be universal and timeless. Feel free to seek other approaches.

My initial thought is: who are these characters? How can I make them interesting? How can I give them traits or behavior that is fun, identifiable, and sets up an intriguing dynamic between them? For now I’ll call the young couple Matt and Colleen.

And in concert with that, how can I make the situation as funny as possible? Not just amusing, not just wry – this is the opening scene of my pilot, maybe the only scene a viewer will watch – I can’t afford for it to be anything other than laugh out loud funny. It’s always best to give characters strong attitudes or goals and for this particular situation I would think it would heighten things if Matt really needs to get laid. He hasn’t had sex in awhile so he is champing at the bit. Guys will go to great comic lengths to get sex (so I've been told).  Now the scene becomes one of frustration and my job is the construct the funniest cock blocking scenario.

So I consider possibilities. What if…?

What if they get in the house, the ex-fiancé is there, and he’s really belligerent? “This is the ferret you left me for?” The couple get into a fight and the poor Matt is in the middle, all the while being belittled. Maybe. Matt could be somewhat insecure and this feeds into his neurosis. But he still tries to work things out and get the ex-fiancé to leave.

Or they get in the house and the ex is crying? Matt has to console him.

Or the ex goes on an on about what a bitch Colleen is. He shatters any illusion. Matt is torn between wanting desperately to sleep with her and to run.

Or the ex is not there when they get to the house. Things heat up quickly. Matt is practically undressed on the couch when the ex comes home. Puts Matt in the most compromising position possible. (Comedy writers are evil, aren't we?)

Or it doesn’t appear that the ex is home. Matt & Colleen are in bed and Matt hears crying from the other room. Learns that the ex still has the adjacent bedroom. Matt desperately wants sex, but can he perform under these weird circumstances?

Or Matt & Colleen arrive to find the ex is there with another girl. How does Colleen react? How does Matt react? Is there a big fight? Does the ex want to do a four-way?

Or Matt & Colleen are making out on the couch and then the ex arrives with another girl. Is Colleen mad?  Jealous?  Is there fun in her double-standard attitude?

Or Matt knows the ex.

Or Matt knows the other girl the ex is with.

Or Colleen knows the other girl the ex is with.

Or the other girl is Matt’s sister.

Or the other girl is Matt’s ex-fiancé.

Or something else. You may have a better one.

And then some specifics. What’s the funniest Matt reaction to learning the ex is still in the house? It could be a great “What the fuck” moment. Colleen obviously knows there’s the complication of the ex still living in the place. How does she explain it? How did she think she was going to finesse the situation?

You get the idea.

I would bat around all of these ideas and see which one gave me the absolute most bang for my buck. I’m always imagining the audience and saying to myself, “Would they laugh at that? Would they REALLY laugh at that?” A lot of times I might say, “No. They’d smile, maybe they’d chuckle, but they wouldn’t laugh.” So how can I make it funnier so they would laugh? (Note: I may be wrong in my prediction but at least in my best professional judgment I’m striving for the maximum reaction.) So I would arrive at the scenario that was most promising, would even have a number of sample big laugh moments or jokes and then try to write the best scene I could.

That’s me.  Old veteran me.

LIFE IN PIECES premiered last week on CBS. It has a likable cast and slick look. I wish it well. I missed the debut on the air but caught up with it a few days later ON DEMAND. Since it was on  ON DEMAND, a lot of my remote features didn’t work and I had to watch it straight through. So I only saw this scene once and am describing it by memory (which may be as faulty as my computer ability).

But here was the opening scene:

Matt (Thomas Sadoski from NEWSROOM) and Colleen (Angelique Cabral from ENLISTED) come home from a date. She invites him up to her place. Once there they find her ex-fiancé sitting on the couch. Matt is just kind of frozen. The ex is mildly annoyed. The ex still thinks he has a chance with Colleen. It’s just an awkward moment. And the characters are AWARE they’re in an awkward moment. (Again, this is “me” thinking – this isn’t funny enough. This is really tepid. And I’m also wondering -- do the writers think this is hysterical? Do they think an audience is really in stitches over this? Or do they not even put the scene to that mental test?)

So what does Matt do? Characters need to actively address a situation. Matt does nothing. What does Colleen do? She offers some wine. There’s a little cutesy banter. The ex comments that they’re “bantering.” Everyone in this scene is totally AWARE of the conventions they’re using. It’s like they’re all too cool to have any strong emotions or reactions. The humor has to come from them merely realizing they’re in a potential comic situation. As a result there’s a real distance. And for me the scene loses its comic edge.

The scene ends with them deciding to go to his place instead. The big joke then is that his place is occupied… by his nutty parents. Awk-ward.

Old school, retro Ken believes if you’re doing a comedy you’ve got to own it. Characters finding themselves in awkward comic situations have been a staple for years. We find ourselves in awkward comic situations in our real lives.

They really happen.

But we don’t step back and observe; we ACT. I’m hoping that LIFE IN PIECES succeeds. It’s just the pilot and they’re finding their way. And I present this post as a learning exercise, not a knock on them. It’s a way to illustrate other possibilities. And a lot of you are aspiring writers currently crafting your spec pilots. Think of the audience and ask yourself the hard question. “Is this FUNNY enough?” And if not, no matter what your age or sensibility, or how cool you are, go back and make it funnier. And don’t apologize.

Can greatness be duplicated?

There is a podcast called TomHanksgiving.  Elvis Kunesh and Cody Camp discuss Tom Hanks movies and then recreate scenes (as cheaply as they can).  This week their subject was VOLUNTEERS.  Here is the original scene (about 5:30 in) and then their recreation.  I defy you to tell the difference.



Thanks guys. Maybe you can do the sequel.

Should you keep a joke that only three people in America will get?

Here's a question I'm often asked:  Should you put obscure jokes in your script?  I wrote a post on this almost five years ago so it's time to re-post it.  I mention that upfront because obscure jokes often are very topical and in five years contemporary references become historical ones.  So keep that in mind as you read.  But the points are still valid.  Or at least, I still agree with them. 

Comedy writing legend Jerry Belson once pitched a very obscure joke during a CHEERS rewrite. One of the Charles Brothers said, “Jerry, only three people in America are going to get that” to which Jerry said, “That’s good enough for me!”

A common question that all comedy writers ask from time to time is whether a particular reference is too obscure to get a laugh. The downside of course is that the joke bombs; the good side is that if it works it really works because the reference is so out of leftfield.

On MASH we called them “Three percenters”. We would make mention of an arcane actor from the ‘40s knowing most people would have no idea who he is (or was). But our thinking was this: a) we crammed so many jokes into an episode that if you didn’t get it, another one was coming two seconds later, b) we sprinkled in very few of these, and c) they added to the ambience and helped set the time period (much the same way as vintage wardrobe and hairstyles do).

I notice “Three percenters” from time to time on COMMUNITY. There will be quick pop culture references or lines of dialog from movies slipped in. Not everyone will get them. My sense is the producers know that and don’t care. They’re writing for a very specific audience. But here’s the key: specific but large.

Or at least large enough.  HOT IN CLEVELAND is designed for baby boomers.  TV LAND doesn't expect as large an audience as NBC but they do want a specific demographic.   And if you're 55 and have trouble with COMMUNITY and not get that an episode is spoofing RESERVOIR DOGS, you'll so welcome a show that makes a Twiggy joke.   

As always, it comes down to “know your target audience”. If you’re writing a spec it’s easier with an existing show. By watching astutely you can determine the level of their references. A Charlie Sheen joke might work on 30 ROCK but I wouldn’t do one on MIKE & MOLLY.

But what happens when you’re writing a pilot?  All bets are off.  Now there are no guidelines. Should you do that Sarah Clarke/TWILIGHT gag?   In general I would say this: agents, managers, executives – the people who will be reading your pilot – are by and large in their thirties. I think that gives you a lot of leeway – way more than you had when they were all in their forties and fifties. They probably know who Sarah Clarke is and they certainly know what TWILIGHT is.  So I wouldn’t self-censor yourself too much. Yes, you always run the risk that a reader might not get a reference and feel you’re belittling them (doing a joke that’s over their head), and to load your script with obtuse gags is insane, but comedy is about taking chances. So go for it. Maybe Jerry Belson was right. If the three people that get the joke are agents you’re submitting to, that is good enough for you.

Friday Questions

Friday Questions back on Friday.

Peter asks:

Horror is one of my favorite genres but I've noticed you almost never mention horror. Are they just not your thing or are there some horror films you like?

No. Never liked horror films. There’s enough real horrors to be scared about like politics.

At first, as a kid, I thought they were fun. Frankenstein and Dracula and Vincent Price in spooky haunted houses.

Then one day at a Saturday matinee I saw a sci-fi/horror film called THE 27th DAY. It was one of those black-and-white cheesy B-movies that were popular in Drive-Ins back then. Who knows if it’s even available these days? I remember it starred Gene Barry and there was an alien from outer space and that film scared the living shit out me. I couldn’t sleep for a week.

Maybe forty years later I saw it on the Late Show and could almost tell you what scene was next and what was going to happen next – it had left that much of an indelible impression on me.

Seeing it again, I finally understood what terrified me. The film was a metaphor for the Cold War and the US and Russia were squaring off to destroy the whole world. A blood sucking vampire who over acted and spoke with a funny foreign accent did not keep me up at night. The threat of being dead myself at any moment did.

Never liked horror films since. I should probably seek therapy, huh?

James wonders:

Have you ever written a script that you would have hated to direct?

The “Point of View” episode of MASH. That’s the one where the 4077th is seen through the eyes of a patient. I talked about it in a recent post.  As proud as I am of that episode I can never mention it without heaping enormous praise on director, Charles Dubin (pictured: right)

Adding to the difficulty of creating this first-person look and getting remarkable performances out of actors not used to talking directly into the camera, Dubin was severely hampered by the bulkiness of the equipment. It’s not like today where you can literally shoot a movie with your iPhone. The cameras were big and heavy and not easily maneuvered.

Oh, and the whole show was shot in only four days.

We owe the success of that episode to Charles Dubin and the fact that I did not direct it.

Here’s a sugar free question from Splenda:

Lets say that a network greenlit a remake of Almost Perfect, under the condition that you use all new actors (can't bring back Nancy Travis, etc.). Who do you cast (assuming they are available and interested)?

Jason Dechert and Jules Willcox who starred in my play, A OR B? at the Falcon Theatre last year.

jcs queries:

You have mentioned many times that being a TV writer requires putting in long hours, sometimes until dawn. Is it possible to have some kind of semi-normal family life when working in such a profession?

Absolutely. But it takes organization, preparation, the willingness to make decisions, and not having a showrunner who is going through a divorce and would rather spend his nights in the office than alone at the Oakwood Gardens Apartments.

Time management is the key. Even on a multi-camera show it is possible to go home at 6:00 or 7:00 and still turn out an excellent product. EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND writers were almost always home for dinner.

On the other hand, there are some truly dreadful shows where the writers worked around the clock. And for what?

But if you have a showrunner who keeps changing his mind, or takes forever to decide which new line to add, or just has nowhere else to go because he’s got an unhappy home life, you could be checked into the Hotel California.

You want a happily married showrunner or one who has Lakers season tickets.

From Jeff :)

I have a baseball question Ken. Who is your favorite player both currently and of all time. Also, your pick to win the World Series for this year?

All-time: Sandy Koufax. All-time that I had the pleasure of working with: Tony Gwynn. Currently: A. J. Ellis (he used to actually listen to Dodger Talk when I hosted it.)

Who will win the World Series? Whoever is not favored.  Or whoever I pick. 

How BLINDSPOT got on the air

I have obtained the transcription from the NBC pitch meeting for BLINDSPOT:

WRITER/CREATOR: We got this totally cool idea. It’s like a mix between the Bourne movies, PRISON BREAK, MEMENTO, the old game show CAMOUFLAGE, and what shows do you like?

NBC: BLACKLIST.

W/C: It’s also like BLACKLIST.

NBC: We’ve been looking for another BLACKLIST. And another HEROES.

W/C: Ours is that too.

NBC: That’s okay. We’re remaking HEROES.

W/C: Well, if you ever want to remake THE BIONIC WOMAN ours is also like that show.

NBC: THE BIONIC WOMAN was a bomb.

W/C: Wait. I forgot. We took out THE BIONIC WOMAN elements.

NBC: So what’s the series?

W/C: Well, we don’t actually have a concept yet – what’s it about, what happens every week, who all the characters are – we still need to tackle those details.

NBC: So what are you bringing us?

W/C: An opening scene.

NBC: An opening scene? That’s it?

W/C: Yep. Something with sizzle that you can promote all summer. Who cares if it has legs?

NBC: Well, like I said, we’re looking for another BLACKLIST. And that’s BLACKLIST. We’re sort of hoping they’ll figure something out this season.  What’s your first scene?

W/C: We’re in Times Square. It’s night. Crowded. And someone discovers a duffel bag. Just sitting in the street. And it has a tag that says CALL THE FBI.

NBC: Wouldn’t they call the FBI anyway?

W/C: You know that. And I know that. But NBC’s audience doesn’t know that.

NBC: You think they’re that dense?

W/C: BLACKLIST.

NBC: Good point. Go on.

W/C: So what’s in the bag? A bomb? Dirty laundry? No. It’s a hot girl.

NBC: Wouldn’t she suffocate in the bag?

W/C: What? There are air holes.

NBC: But then couldn’t someone see what was inside?

W/C: Small holes. Tiny holes.

NBC: Who is she?

W/C: We don’t know.

NBC: I assume the audience doesn’t know but who is she?

W/C: We don’t know either.

NBC: Who put her in there?

W/C: No idea.

NBC: And why?

W/C: Couldn’t tell you.

NBC: Gee, you’ve really thought this thing through.

W/C: Easy fixes. But wait – she is covered in tattoos.

NBC: Oh, so we could do product placement. I’m starting to like this.

W/C: No. They’re all clues.

NBC: To what?

W/C: We still have to figure that out.

NBC: So then what happens?

W/C: The girl comes out of the bag.

NBC: How?

W/C: She upzips the bag and slithers out.

NBC: What duffel bag upzips from the inside? Why would they ever make that?

W/C: Uh… it’s a custom bag. They want her to open it.

NBC: Who does?

W/C: We don’t know.

NBC: Can she even see the zipper if it’s on the inside?

W/C: Yes. There’s a tiny light. So she comes out of the bag. And on her back is the name of an FBI agent. So they bring him in on the case. We do a scene where he’s breaking up a hostage situation in Kentucky and a helicopter arrives to take him to Manhattan.

NBC: Why do you need a helicopter? Can’t they just call him?

W/C: We don’t know.

NBC: And they’re calling him to do what?

W/C: Again, don’t know.

NBC: So who is this FBI agent?

W/C: Sorry, can’t help you.

NBC: Could he be like RAY DONOVAN? We’re also looking to do something like that.

W/C: Yes. Exactly. How about this for a character profile?  A knock off Liev Schreiber.

NBC: Okay. I totally see that character.  Brooding.  Charmless. But I’m still hazy on the girl.

W/C: So is she. She has no memory.

NBC: How’d that happen? And please, don’t say you don’t know. Just make something up if you have to.

W/C: She was given this drug that wipes out your past memory.

NBC: Does such a drug exist?

W/C: Maybe.

NBC: Okay. She has no memory. Then how does she function?

W/C: Oh, she can speak foreign languages and is an expert in martial arts.

NBC: What?

W/C: This drug is selective based on what we need for future episodes.

NBC: Which you haven’t thought of yet.

W/C: Right.

NBC: So what happens in the pilot after that first scene? What’s the plot?

W/C: We could go procedural, we could go action-adventure, espionage, the door is even open to sci-fi if you like.

NBC: I have to tell you – this is a mess. What you have here is the first scene of a movie, maybe. But a long-running television show? It’s downright insulting that you seriously think we would buy something so half-baked.

W/C: Wait. One more thing: the girl is naked.

NBC: What?

W/C: She’s incredibly hot. Someone like Jaimie Alexander. And when she comes out of the bag she’s completely naked.

NBC: So you think we’d spend five million dollars on a pilot just because there’s one nude scene?

W/C: No. Don’t be ridiculous. There are several nude scenes. When she’s alone in her room she stares at herself in the mirror, naked. She goes into a fetal position, naked. When they photograph her, she’s naked. And then we have all these photos the FBI will post – of her naked.

NBC: Forget the pilot. Go right to series.

Telling broadcasters to shut up

This is a broadcasting story and amusing anecdote, not a baseball story – although it involves broadcasting baseball. Does that make sense?  (It is also dedicated to the passing of Yogi Berra.  Number 8 will always be number one.)

Broadcast conditions for minor league announcers are rarely ideal. Especially in older stadiums. You’re in a little shack up on the roof, often in tin afterthoughts. You’re trying to call a game during a lightening storm in a metal box surrounded by electronic equipment. Or a tornado.  Or blizzard.  Or swarm of bees.  Or fireworks night when the guy has bad aim. 

Sometimes you have no roof at all so good luck in the rain. And blazing sun. 

On the other hand, at the old Toledo stadium we were completely enclosed in Plexiglas. On the air it sounded like we were in an echo chamber. And if the air conditioning stopped working, we were in a George Foreman grill.

At old Sec Taylor Stadium in Des Moines, whenever a home team player hit a home run a deafening siren would blast. You could hear it all the way to Ottumwa. The speaker was right underneath the visiting broadcasters. Every time a ball sailed over the fence it practically knocked us out of the booth. My ears are still ringing and this was 1988.

That same year I was broadcasting Syracuse Chiefs games with Dan Hoard. We went into Denver to play the dreaded Zephyrs. Most minor league parks are intimate and seat maybe 10,000. That’s one of the beauties of going to minor league games – the intimacy; you’re close to the players and close to the action. The Zephyrs played in Mile High Stadium, which sat 70 or 80 or 150,000 (I forget which). Even if attendance was 15,000, which normally would mean S.R.O., it looked like maybe six people were there scattered about.

They had no dedicated baseball pressbox per se. They just converted a few of the luxury suites behind the home plate area. At first I thought, “this is great!” The booth was roomy. We had a counter, good view, air conditioning, running distance to a bathroom. The only quirk was that there were two rows of seats behind us accommodating maybe fifteen spectators.

We thought nothing of it until people started filing into our booth. Apparently those were paid seats. Okay. A little weird – I’m not used to calling games with a studio audience -- but what the hell?

The game begins, we call the action, and we can hear in the background people telling us to shut up. At the half inning mark we turned back to them and said, “Hey, we’re broadcasting here!” They said, “We don’t care. We paid primo money for these seats and we don’t want to hear two idiots announcing all night.”

We had to go to one of the team executives to straighten things out. I think they moved them.  It's not like there were no other seats.  There was room in the dugouts. 

The next night the seats in our booth were sold again, but this was a good crowd. They enjoyed our broadcast and even offered to buy us some beers. We graciously declined, explaining how we only drank beer before games.

I thought things would improve drastically when I got to the majors, and they did – mostly. Spring Training facilities in the ‘90s were not as spiffy as they are today. The Angels still played in an old ballpark in Palm Springs. There were only two broadcast booths and if the Angels were televising as well as doing radio then the visiting broadcasters were put into the stands.

A counter was set up in one of the back rows. My first year with Seattle we had to do a game from that location. I sat on the aisle, Kevin the engineer to my left, and to his left was my partner, the great Dave Niehaus. If anyone stood up in front of us we were screwed.

I’m on the air, it’s the seventh inning, I feel a tapping on my shoulder. It’s a vendor with malts. Would I pass them down the row to the skeesix ten seats over? I did, while calling the game. Suddenly there is a big play. Runners scampering around the bases, the ball going every which way. Kevin hands me the money for the malt that had been passed from hand to hand. I give it to the vendor, all the while continuing to call this goofy play.  I feel another tap. The vendor.  Would I pass the change back? This on a fifty station radio network.

But I don’t feel bad. Vin Scully of the Dodgers recalls that when the team first moved out west with the Giants in 1958, the Giants played at a minor league park, Seal Stadium.  Scully and his partner, Jerry Doggett, were banished to broadcast from the stands like us. Even in those early days, Giant fans hated anything Dodgers. Scully had to do live commercials between innings for some beer. For the rest of the game fans around him were shouting the names of competing beer brands while he was doing the play-by-play.   All of this got on the air.  

Hey, maybe I should put a few rows of seats in my office and charge people to watch me write. “Shut up! We can’t sleep with that incessant keyboard clacking!”