So, following on from Part 5, we’re merrily plotting our sitcom
episode. We have characters doing things in character that make their own lives
more difficult. What are some of the pitfalls of this process?
Impatience: Get used to the idea this
process takes time. If you manage to plot your way to a funny scene, that’s
great. But just spend another half an hour seeing if that plot can be improved,
be more natural, more in character and get you to an even funnier scene. Turn of the internet and do it again.
Lack of Confidence: You might have thought
of some key jokes in that funny scene and aren’t all that confident you’ll think
of new jokes if you change things too much. Jokes are just jokes. Don’t get
trapped with the ‘No Joke Left Behind’ policy. The plot has to be right or the
jokes won’t matter. The stories have to be faithful to the characters. Jokes
are the icing on the cake. You need lots of brilliant icing. But you need cake. Don’t worry. If you’re characters and plots are firing on all cylinders,
the jokes will come – if you take the time to work at them. (Again, you may need to turn off the internet)
Meandering stories: Does your story
escalate, or just meander? Your hero has a quest. They try and do it, but they
refuse to do one particular thing for some reason something goes wrong. They
try to fix it – and don’t just fail. They make it worse. And so to fix it, they have to do that thing they didn’t
want to do. Except now it’s too late to do that thing. And doing that thing has
just landed them in more trouble. And so on, until your character is completely
screwed. How are they going to get out of this? You manage to do so with a
lovely twist that, in hindsight, we could have spotted, but didn’t.
Third Act Magic Wands: Your plot solution at the end of the show to your character’s problem should not
involve new characters, new themes, new elements, even new object that we
haven’t encountered before. The ingredients to your plot resolution should have
been there almost all along. Your character needs to climb down, change their
mind and/or do that thing they didn’t want to do which, surprise surprise,
turns out to be not as bad as they expected. Or worse, but with a positive
side-effect, etc.
No Clear Moment of Success/Failure: How
does the audience know our character has succeeded or failed? What is the
physical manifestation of this? Your character wants something – what is it and
how do we know they’ve achieved it. There has to be a critical moment, a swift
reveal of something tangible. It could be an object of significance that is
handed over, or destroyed. A form of words said to someone. We, the audience,
need to know in advance what that is. For some reason, the example that springs
to mind of is that Hank Kingsley in The Larry Sanders Show. Hank holding out on
his contract (series 1, ep 7) because wants to be taken seriously by the studio – and
demands a golf cart to drive him around the set as part of his new deal. ‘I
want a golf cart’ is the key. When we see him in one, we know he’s won (except there's a nice twist. He gets the cart, but we discover he's paid for it himself to save face). When
you’re plotting the show, ask yourself, what’s your golf cart? And can we all see it at the end please.
Too slow: Comedy is fast. And your plot can
be escalating and have a golf cart ready to go, but can you get there faster – and go one
better, one bigger after that. When plotting Miranda, we would try and think what the huge set-piece scene for the ending was, and then how to get there half way
through the show rather than spin it out to the end. So we deal with the fall-out from that big scene which leads to an
even bigger one. Going back to the funeral example, Miranda gives the eulogy
for an unknown person and falls into a grave at the end of the first act. The
show also has her reading Mein Kampf to children in a public library and ends
with her punching the vicar from the funeral in the face. Say what you like about Miranda, and
people do, it’s not slow.
the thing im really taking in off all these posts has been patience. i had strong ideas about the wacky antics my characters would take but i think thats because they were still versions of the people theyre based on. still are in some cases. one has 'whats wrong with her' written at the top.
ReplyDeleteI suspect the lack of questions indicates how comprehensive James's advice has been!
ReplyDeleteI can highly recommend the workshop, for those who haven't experienced it. Meanwhile, I'm eagerly looking forward to Bluestone 42 on BBC Three to see the advice in action....
Many thanks for posting all this James. It's incredibly kind of you to take the time to write this down and make it so accessible for people looking for guidance and help. Really appreciate it. Jess
ReplyDeleteI want to join in the chorus of thanks. This week I mailed off an original sitcom pilot to the BBC for the Trans Comedy Award, and as part of my prep I read your entire blog cover to cover. This six-part series was especially useful as a checklist in final rewrites.
ReplyDeleteYou have one of the best screen-, comedy-, and TV-writing sites on the web. I'm very much in your debt.
I've also been looking forward to telling you that as I give friends notes I catch myself asking them, "What's your golfcart?"
Thank you again, and congratulations again on Bluestone 42!
Shaula
Aw, shucks everyone. Glad the blog is of use!
ReplyDeleteI've come late to your marvellous blog, James. I've been lucky enough to have a sitcom optioned recently, but had I read you earlier, it would have saved me lots of extra work! Carry on with the good work.
DeleteHi James, are you running any further sitcom courses in the near future? Mike Hadley
ReplyDelete