Two Great Words

Just came across both of these today....

A sybarite is a general term for describing one fond of pleasure and luxury.

Metempsychosis (the p is NOT silent) - The passing of the soul at death into another body. See the wikipedia entry here.

Anna Mercury

I really like the concise description of this series. Somehow, I can picture it all really well, like a movie trailer....

"Anna Mercury" is a new five-issue colour mini-series by Warren Ellis for Avatar.

Cover artist, Paul Duffield.



It comes with the following text:

"Dancing amid the spires of a city called New Ataraxia, there is a woman who can cloud men's minds, leap across buildings as if weightless, unerringly fire twin automatic pistols in the most insane conditions, and disappear in a crowded room. She fights against the political repression of an insane technocratic society, and she comes from a place that no-one in New Ataraxia has ever heard of. And she's got one hour to save the city from itself.

"A high-octane blend of The Shadow, Tomb Raider, retropunk science fiction and 21st century Weird Pulp Action, ANNA MERCURY is a headlong adventure serial about a beautiful and mysterious spy-adventurer who is not what she seems...."

One of these days, mysterious comic characters will be exactly what they seem.

Testing

This is a test. Yay. Tests.

Stealing from the Dead

Inspired from a dream the other night....

A guy decides to steal from some former friends/acquaintances/etc. He knows they stash a bunch of money in their backyard (or maybe a room in the back of the house). The house is very '70's - wood paneling, gold trim, shag carpet. There's a long hallway that stretches the length of the house, down which he needs to travel to reach his goal. He fills two duffel bags and leaves. Middle of the night, crossing the street, he notices a low-flying helicopter and wonders if it notices him.

The next day, the police arrive and ask him to please come along. "Am I under arrest?" They simply ask him to come along. He joins them for a tense ride to the burgled house, where now wait several police cars, officers, the area taped off.

They enter the house. More cops. But, they don't head down the hallway. Instead, they track right, to the kitchen - and the dead body of one of his former friends. Perhaps he needs to make the ID. He learns that the body has been there for six days. (Change this if I learn an odor would have been noticeable.)

He's not a suspect, but fears he'll become one. He figures that they'll uncover the burglary soon enough - and maybe even figure that he's connected.

So, now he feels he has to solve the case before the cops get any strange ideas. And, maybe, he feels a heavier guilt, the burden of knowing this old friend was lying dead in the next room as he robbed him blind.

Mythical Sky Being

God? Allah? Some pagan deity? Everyone's covered.

Self-Actualized

"Look, even if I were not self-actualized, I still would not date you."

Got a scene that feels familiar?

I heard a great line in a Law and Order re-run yesterday. The detectives go to bust a mob guy in the back room of a shady bar. You know exactly the scene, right? They find the guy, the son of an old-time mobster, with his cronies watching television (financial news). Detective Briscoe hauls the head mobster to his feet. As he cuffs him, he says:

"You know, your old man would've at least had a card game going."

Fantastic. The writer, finding himself faced with a hopelessly familiar scene, found a subtle way to make it new while calling our attention to the one missing classic element. And it's funny.

Got a scene that feels familiar? Try mixing it up a bit, and don't be afraid to have a character comment on it. We did stuff like this on Buffy, too, by having some surprising design or lifestyle choices in the demon world -- and having a character notice and comment on it always yielded funny moments.

Occurred to Me When I Awoke...

...a couple days ago:

"The Outside Failure(s) of an Inside Man"

"I think I'm full of cum."

This would be for a play, so - at this point - either "Ophelia" (aka, "Ophelia, Unlimited", "Ophelia Unbound", "Ultimate Ophelia") or "Klepto".

If Klepto, someone recounts a dream, wherein he or she was in the same room that the action is taking place in. Only the room was slightly different, as it is in dreams. Have stagehands enter and change things slightly - move a table, add a chair, throw a big book on the bed, etc. In the dream, a man and a woman stand across from one another - the dreamer is one of the two.

Woman (perplexed): I... I think I'm full of cum.

Man: What?

Woman (still perplexed): I think I'm full of cum.

Man: That doesn't make any sense.

Perhaps that's the whole dream....

Now, for Ophelia.... The applications of this are - pardon the pun - even more unlimited. Could be a dream. A delusion. She's expressing herself. Or a totally nondiegetic expression of her turmoil.

911 Spy Play

It’s September 1, 2001. A French agent is charged with finding a supposedly rogue U.S. agent who has valuable information about the future. However, it’s more complicated than that…. He knows not only what will happen on the 11th - but also days, months, years down the road. On top of that, the U.S. has dispatched an assassin to take out what they perceive as a threat.

Personality and Opinion in Stage Directions

My all time favorite script line of Buffy is from "Innocence" when Joss... writes something to the effect of "The bastard actually winks at her." [...] Do you recommend this level of spunky personality in writing our spec pilots to help our work stand out? Or is this an indulgence extended to established writers?"

This one has an easy answer. Yes! I recommend this kind of writing. Absolutely. Feel free to put personality and opinion in your stage directions. It makes you sound confident and it helps the reader keep track of what you're intending them to take away from the script at any given point.

However, as long as we're in the neighborhood, there is one thing that you will find in the stage directions of produced episodes that you shouldn't adopt. I'm talking about hyper-specific instructions on set design or visual effects or props. I'm talking about stage directions like: "I'm seeing the room as having a claustrophobic feel, but that doesn't necessarily mean it's a small room. Let's just make sure that it's laid out to have a cramped feeling." You'll see things like this all the time, but it's not appropriate for a spec, for the obvious reason that material with this level of specificity is intended to provide guidance to actual production people, which you don't have.

But jokes? Personality? Attitude? Yes... do that, please!

Literal Thinking

Jon from Minneapolis writes in to propose my favorite type of discussion -- a little exploration of joke-types. Ooh! Fun! Thank you, Jon!

Here are two jokes that he suggests form a category. In the first one, from the movie Hot Fuzz, the small town's chief of police is talking to the newly transplanted Nick Angel:

Chief (serious): Well, there's one thing your predecessor had that you'll never have.
Nick: Oh? What's that?
Chief: A great bushy beard.

The second one comes from Victor/Victoria, in which a nightclub owner is giving instructions to a private investigator:

Owner: Now, I need you to be extremely careful.
Investigator: I always am.
Owner: That stool is very unstable.
Investigator: What? (The stool collapses and he falls.)

It wouldn't have immediately occurred to me that these are examples of the same joke structure, but I think Jon is right. I'd also add this exchange from Ghostbusters which I think is a gem of economically-applied funny:

Dr Ray Stantz: Where do these stairs go?
Dr. Peter Venkman: They go up.

These all involve a specific and extreme kind of undercutting of expectation by suddenly going very literal. They are, in fact, the same kind of joke as the horrible classic children's jokes about why firemen wear red suspenders and why chickens transverse-navigate motorways. In these jokes, you're misled into thinking that you're going to be given actual information on some topic, when in fact you're going to be told something very literal and irrelevant to the larger matter.

This kind of joke naturally has a childish feeling to it, but that doesn't mean it can't be used in sophisticated comedies. For example, a character who specifically employs this type of humor in an attempt to cheer up his colleagues in a fraught moment could be endearing and even heart-breaking. And, as Gentle Reader Jon points out in his letter, it is a powerful way to give a jolt to an otherwise gravely cliched exchange. We know that undercutting is important for keeping a script light; this kind of extreme undercutting, when used carefully, can help.

Human Resources

Always a great title.

Tagline: No One is Irreplacable.

Roger Wilco

Cool title. Maybe character name?

Literal Thinking

Here are two jokes that he suggests form a category. In the first one, from the movie Hot Fuzz, the small town's chief of police is talking to the newly transplanted Nick Angel:

Chief (serious): Well, there's one thing your predecessor had that you'll never have.
Nick: Oh? What's that?
Chief: A great bushy beard.

The second one comes from Victor/Victoria, in which a nightclub owner is giving instructions to a private investigator:

Owner: Now, I need you to be extremely careful.
Investigator: I always am.
Owner: That stool is very unstable.
Investigator: What? (The stool collapses and he falls.)

It wouldn't have immediately occurred to me that these are examples of the same joke structure, but I think Jon is right. I'd also add this exchange from Ghostbusters which I think is a gem of economically-applied funny:

Dr Ray Stantz: Where do these stairs go?
Dr. Peter Venkman: They go up.

These all involve a specific and extreme kind of undercutting of expectation by suddenly going very literal. They are, in fact, the same kind of joke as the horrible classic children's jokes about why firemen wear red suspenders and why chickens transverse-navigate motorways. In these jokes, you're misled into thinking that you're going to be given actual information on some topic, when in fact you're going to be told something very literal and irrelevant to the larger matter.

This kind of joke naturally has a childish feeling to it, but that doesn't mean it can't be used in sophisticated comedies. For example, a character who specifically employs this type of humor in an attempt to cheer up his colleagues in a fraught moment could be endearing and even heart-breaking. And, as Gentle Reader Jon points out in his letter, it is a powerful way to give a jolt to an otherwise gravely cliched exchange. We know that undercutting is important for keeping a script light; this kind of extreme undercutting, when used carefully, can help.

Restrained by Robots

Just wrote that line. Sounds like a great title, band name, etc.

Write from another character's POV

I’ll write out the whole story from the villain’s point of view, both to track that the logic works, and also to gain insight on why they’re doing what they’re doing.

He Smiles, She Smiles

A smile jumps from her lips to his.

Instead of Bookstore try "Chain Bookstore"

Instead of “BOOKSTORE” or “BARNES AND NOBLE,” try “CHAIN BOOKSTORE.” The reader gets what you are trying to say, and the line producer won’t hyperventilate.

For Shazam!, I just wrote a scene that takes place “INT. STARBUCK’S-LIKE COFFEE SHOP.” It should be clear to the line producer, production designer and everyone else that it doesn’t have to be Starbucks. It just needs that vibe.

What Makes a Good Pilot Spec

Stephen in Canada has a good question about writing spec pilots. He wants to know if he should write something similar to what's already on television, or if he should try something more wild and strange.

Hm, that's an interesting question. Well, obviously, both ends of the spectrum are dangerous. It's going to be hard to make a Law and Order clone stand out, for example. And, at the other end, a 45-minute all-CGI bisexual space-musical might not demonstrate a knowledge of what is currently hot within the television market. (I have no idea if this is what Canadian Stephen is into, by the way.)

The answer, I think, is to take the best of both ends. Keep enough of the traditional in the show so you can demonstrate that you know the basics. Then add something unique either in concept, or by doing something interesting with character, or both. The pilots of Jericho and Big Love would have been good spec pilots, because the concepts are so arresting. The pilots of House and Ugly Betty would have made good spec pilots, because the characters are so unique. A show like Dexter might be the perfect spec pilot, with a shocking concept and a unique character. Weeds is probably a better model for a spec pilot than Desperate Housewives is. Housewives is more traditionally saleable, but Weeds is the one that makes people curious. At this stage in your career, where you're trying so hard to stand out from everyone else, curiosity is your friend.

If it was me, I would start by thinking of the types of shows I love and admire, and then consciously think about what I could add to them that pushes the boundaries a little bit, to make them different and a bit daring. Two years ago a whole bunch of pilots were purchased that fit established patterns except that the hero was mentally ill in some way. If they hadn't already done that, it would be a perfect model for what I'm talking about. But the basic recipe is still good. Take the basics, then pervert them, twist them, stretch them just a bit.

"Short Answer..."

Running gag, or simply piece of characterization.

"Short answer, yes." or "Short answer, no."

"Are You Off Your Meds?"

"Yes!"

or

"Yes, but..."

You Mean There's Three of Them??

Twins make each others lives bearable. They've got a good thing going - #1 does the stuff #2 hates, and vice versa.

Conflict arises when they both fall for the same woman? Perhaps, one woman they're seeing dumps him/them, and the twin who's there (accidentally?) kills her. Lots of identity issues and swapping throughout Act 2.

However, at the end of Act 2 we discover - they're TRIPLETS. Sort of like Fight Club, etc., except every person here is real, not imagined.

Fun With Dialogue Spelling

Per Jane Espenson:

Something I'm dying to do, and I can't imagine why I haven't done it already, is to write a British character's dialogue with all British spellings. I think it would be hilarious on the page:

AMERICAN GUY
Are you insulting my honor?

BRITISH GUY
Your honour? Certainly not.

Wingmen

Title: Wingmen

Comedy about two guys - one 20's, the other 40's - who find they make a great pair on the dating scene.

Think Max Fischer and Bloom in Rushmore.

Bach's Office

Not sure. Just a play on words.

Entitlement: Figurative Titles

I've written before about how I use this same method when I need to name a script. I often will try to come up with some concrete symbol for what's going on at the heart of the story. If it can relate to both the A and B stories, well, even better. "Harsh Light of Day," one of my Buffy episodes, did this, relating to the actual sunlight that was important in the action story, and, figuratively, to a cold realization that was important in the emotional story. My Battlestar episode "The Passage," was already named when I was assigned to it, I believe, but I love that title, since it relates literally to a specific hazardous mission and figuratively to a death that results from it.

Even if you can't find anything literal in the script that connects to the name, a figurative title can often still work, cutting right to the most important concept of the episode. My newest Battlestar episode title works in this way, but I don't think we're making those public yet. Let's imagine though, that you're writing an episode about regaining an old friendship. I'm not talking about calling it "Mending Fences," since that's so familiar that it's lost any charge as an actual evocative image. But you could call it "Vital Repairs," or something in that area.

The best thing about finding a title like this, if you can, is that it can actually improve the writing. I like to come up with a title before I write the episode. In fact, I like to come up with it before I write the outline. If I've really managed to come up with something that captures the vital core of the episode, there's nothing that can possibly help me more than to have a constant reminder of that. Every time I open or save the document, I see the name. If you do this, and you keep it in mind as you write, it can act like a handrail that'll keep you heading right down the middle of the story. Play around with it. Sometimes a literal title works best, or a figurative one feels labored, but finding a title that constantly reminds you of your main goal is precious.

Quotes from Mamet's Heist

* "Is he cool?" "My motherfucker's so cool, when he goes to sleep, the sheep count him."

* "Everybody wants money. That's why they call it money!"

* "You're the brass ring, babe." "Glad you like me."

* "Hand to God, that bible stopped a bullet. Would have ruined that fucker's heart. And had he had another bible in front of his face, that man would still be alive today."

* "You're a real piece of work, you know that?" "Yeah, I came all the way from China in a matchbox."

* "Don't you want to hear my last words?" "I just did."

* "Hey, buddy. You forgot your change." "Thanks. Makes the world go 'round." "What's that?" "Gold." "Some people say love." "Well, they're right too. It is love. Love of gold."

* "Why did the chicken cross the road? Cause the road crossed the chicken."

* "He ain't gonna shoot me?" "No." "Then he hadn't ought to point a gun at me. It's insincere."

"How many?" "One." "Take five."

from Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978):

Needing to stay awake, the couple finds a bottle of speed.

"How many does it say to take?"
"One."
"Take five."

Darkly humorous in a desperate situation.

Logging Out of a Ouija Board

Apparently, one "signs off" from ouija board when finished.

Also apparently, a ouija board was used in The Exorcist, with unfortunate results. Clearly, the little girl failed to log off, and her firewall wasn't up to date.

Details of this last bit can be found here.

Jeremy's Rant About His Past, Present, and Future Selves

"Present Jeremy and Past Jeremy are always working to screw over Future Jeremy. Future Jeremy hates Present and Past Jeremy."

~"If Future Jeremy ever gets a hold of time travel, he's not gonna go into the future. He's gonna come back and make life hell for Present and Past Jeremy."

Funny Sex Boast

"We did it in every room."

"Doesn't she live in a studio?"

"Shut up."

Real Arguments - Complex, Painful, Wonderful

You know one of the amazing things about Battlestar Galactica? There is no one character who always manages to do the right thing. There are characters who try, but they don't always succeed. And the right path isn't always obvious, and outcomes are unpredictable. Even the bad guy is really only disastrously selfish, not evil. Even the robots are human. This gives the writers lots of opportunities to write the very best kind of fights. The kind where both sides are right.

On the surface, this might seem like a lessening of conflict, but it really isn't. It's more like a-- like a realification of it. Both sides in a real conflict are always working from a place of incomplete knowledge, simply because none of us knows the future. And we all hold opinions based on our own subtle list of priorities which may not be at all the same as the person we're arguing with. Even the good guys can differ -- do you do the right thing, or the smart thing? Real fights are complex and painful and wonderful. If you've got a fight in your script, try putting some wrong on the right side and some right on the wrong side. Let both sides shine. It's an antidote to unseemly moustache-twirling and unbearable saintliness.

Human nature can be glorious and it can be very very dark.

"I thought you said you could _____"

"I thought you said you could cook!"
"I didn't say I was a good cook."

Try Googling the phrase "I didn't say I was a good" and see what comes up - it's quite a harvest. This is clearly an overused joke form, although, honestly, it's barely a joke.

There was a brief period where it got a second wind, when the second line was changed to the amusingly blunt, "I lied." But now that has grown hoary with age as well.

If you want to say that someone is bad at something, I suggest that you avoid the "I thought you said..." set-up altogether and go at the joke in a different way.

But, for the sake of fun, let's imagine that for some reason the thing you want to preserve is the notion of something being misheard or misunderstood. It looks to me as though there are at least three joke forms that use this. We've already looked at the first one, in which the humorous element is that the person is asserting and then denying some ability with a claim that they've been misunderstood.

Here is the second one, which is about actually mishearing the original assertion.

A Catholic learns what his daughter has been up to: "Did you say prostitute? Thank god, I thought you said Protestant."

In a clever variation on this form, it wasn't the words, but the grammar, that was misheard:

Mickey Mouse explains the grounds for his divorce from Minnie: "I didn't say she was crazy. I said she was fuckin' Goofy."

Then there is the final category, in which the original statement was misunderstood because the hearer either made a very logical assumption about the point of the original statement:

"I thought you said your dog does not bite!"
"That is not my dog."

And:

"But I thought you said your husband had a vasectomy."
"He did. That's why I have to take every precaution."

Or the hearer failed to make the most logical assumption:

"I thought I asked you to take those penguins to the zoo!"
"I did, but I had some money left, so we're going to the movies."

I think these last two examples -- the vasectomy one and the zoo one -- are the jokes I've come across that best use the misunderstanding framework. And you know why they work best? Because they're character-based. They look like language-tricks, like the "Goofy" one, but they're actually jokes about assumptions, not mishearings. Anyone can mishear. But when you assume you reveal your character. Both the cheating-woman in the vasectomy joke, and the van-driver in the second joke, made an assumption that reveals their character.

Now, obviously, these are jokes that I've pulled off the rack. You can't put them in a script; you have to make up ones of your own. But once you understand the mechanism, that part's easy.

As you're going through your script, look at the jokes. If they don't reveal character, if they're jokey-jokes that anyone could say, look for alternatives. Write something that tells us about the characters.

Another way of looking at it:

MAN
I thought you said you could drive!

WOMAN
Really? That's interesting. Because I thought you said you could avoid getting us chased down a poorly-maintained access-road by a crazed interstate trucker!

(Imagine it all read with a sense of escalating panic, optimally, by the cast of Moonlighting.) Now, I haven't invented something new here. Jokes of this structure are around already, but since the punchline involves a restatement of the plot, it's going to look different in each new incarnation, which will help it feel fresher. And a lot of the joy of this one is going to lie in the wording of the plot-recap. Length, awkwardness and over-precision will probably work to your advantage in this kind of joke.

The point of all of this? Keep looking. Just because you're certain you've exhausted every way to pay off a set-up, doesn't mean there isn't one more that just hasn't occurred to you yet.

Okay, apparently I just can't leave this alone. I'm all hung up on this "I thought you said you could..." set-up. And it occurs to me that this is a really good exercise. Take a set-up and think of all the punches that you can to follow it. They don't have to be outright jokes, but should at least have some attitude to them. This is a pretty good simulation of what you do in a comedy writer's room, actually. On Ellen we were often all working in our offices simultaneously on the same jokes, generating lists that looked a lot like this:

MAN 1
I thought you said you could drive!
MAN 2
Yeah? Well, I thought shut up!

Or

MAN 1
I thought you said you could drive!
MAN 2
It's two pedals! I assumed I could!

OR

MAN 1
I thought you said you could drive!
MAN 2
I also said this was my real hair, so you knew I couldn't be trusted!

OR

MAN 1
I thought you said you could drive!
MAN 2
We were talking about golf!

And so on forever. I'm not saying these are great, just that they exist. And that there are always more. Give it a try with another set-up. Something like "Are you wearing that?" or "Is this ketchup?" Go 'head, come up with as many as you can. And set the bar low. This exercise is about quantity, not quality.

And here's the big secret. This isn't really just about finding jokes. This is about finding possible attitudes for your characters. I mean, look at what the list above really represents. The first choice is petulent, the second is sort of absurdist, the third is flippant and the fourth is confrontational. Would I have considered all those colors if I'd approached the scene another way? I don't think so.

I knew jokes revealed character. Maybe they can also create it. Hmm...

Sweeten Stage Directions & Tighten Up Dialogue

Anyone out there want a couple quick ways to spruce up a script right before you submit it to something? Here are two things you can do quickly that might actually make a noticeable difference.

First, sweeten up those stage directions. They're your one chance to talk directly to the reader in your own voice, so make sure they're confident, visual, and evocative without going over-the-top. After you've worked on a script for a while, you've probably stopped even reading your own stage directions when you reread. Resist that, and give 'em a good looking-at. If anything feels familiar or flat or hesitant, work on it.

FLAT: "John enters. He looks terrible."
JUST RIGHT: "John enters, looking like a thousand flavors of crap."
TOO MUCH: "John enters, bearing the cares of his ancestors on his shoulders like a heavy yoke."

Second, tighten up your dialog. Look for extra sentences that you can pull out, and even just words. If a character says "I haven't seen her," consider changing it to "Haven't seen her." It's such a tiny change, but it keeps your lines from looking like the hyper-correct text in learn-to-read books.

That's it. A simple pass through your script with those two goals in mind can do wonders. The main point here is confidence. Both of these changes will suggest a relaxed, confident writer, and if you can project that, you're ahead of the game.

Louder Than Words

Actions speak louder than words.

A couple are in a fight. One stands near a door and says, "And another thing...." He/she then exits, slamming the door.

Chef is Waitress is Chef

A woman prepares food in a restaurant kitchen. She puts two plates up on the pass shelf and slaps the bell for pick-up. She then leisurely walks around the shelf and picks up the food for the waiting customers.

The Clue Riff

i.e., Col. Mustard in the Library with the Candlestick.

Use it for humorous situation, such as a pregnant woman who doesn't know who the father might be. "Was it Randy in the park on the bench? Or was it Johnny in the laundryroom on the washing machine? Or was it Kelly in the kitchen on the table?"