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.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
"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...
"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.
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.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
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.
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?"
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?"
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