Blood Ties

Blood Ties aired in Canada at long last: mystery, monsters and one very hot vampire who appears shirtless a lot of the time. Excellent.
Blood Price, the pilot episode written by series creator Peter Mohan, is actually two one-hour episodes even though they aired together on Monday night. I know it's two one-hours because there's a three minute forty-one second scene at the 42:27 minute mark. That would be the teaser of the second episode. It's my habit to only break down one-hours, so if you'll forgive me, I'm going to ignore the second hour and focus my attention on the first.

The show features a short pre-title teaser followed by four acts that time out as follows:

Teaser: 3:08
Act One: 12:39
Act Two: 7:43
Act Three 9:07
Act Four 9:50

First shot: Toronto skyline at night shot from across the water.

This is a premise pilot that sets up the relationship between Vicky Nelson, private investigator and Henry Fitzroy, vampire. We also learn about Vicky's complicated relationship with her former policing partner, Mike Celluci.

The other main story line in the pilot is the mystery of the week.

In some ways this a familiar form. As in Veronica Mars and Burn Notice, the pilot is divided between a mystery of the week that buttons up nicely and gives us that satisfying episodic feel and the series' story which will continue and compels us to watch week after week.

But Mohan has an interesting twist on how he approaches both sides of the equation.

On the mystery side, Mohan follows not only the investigation but also the villain. In many mystery series, we see the crimes only from the detective's p.o.v. Starting right in the second scene of the teaser, we meet Norman, the villain (he's one of the villains anyway and the guy who calls the evil demon into action). This is great for cranking up the stakes and this storyline provides the scenes for every act breaks except the final curtain on Act Four.

On the premise side of the story, Vicky is introduced to us in the first scene of the teaser. As a result we see her as the central figure in the series and since she's a former cop turned private detective, we quite naturally follow her into the mystery. And since her ex-partner-ex-beau is the cop investigating the same crime his involvement is also organic.

But the third player -- Henry the vampire -- is a little trickier to pull into the story. Mohan introduces him in the third scene of act one. Like Vicky, his first scene is purely for character purposes and only in his second scene does he learn of the crime that he too begins to investigate. He's investigating because the crime looks like it was committed by a vampire and he's afraid that he'll be blamed.

By mid-way through Act One, we have two story lines that are independent investigations of the third story which features the crime unfolding. That puts all three on a collision course. There's Norman and his demon committing evil acts. Vicky in a reluctant partnership with Celluci investigating. And Henry the vampire, investigating the same crimes on his own.

Mohan nimbly holds the collision off until the closing moments of the fourth act when Henry drives the demon away and then Vicky attacks Henry to bring down the final curtain of the episode.

It's a cool and original structure.

Mad Men

I'm predisposed to love this show.

People I like tell me it's great.

Plus, my dad was an ad man in the 50s and 60s. He wasn't a Madison Avenue type. His office was on Peel Street in Montreal. He worked his way up from copywriter through the executive ranks until he was running the Canadian branch of a big American agency. So we saw some fringes of the world that the series is about and lived through the Canadian version of the same scene.

The pilot episode of Mad Men is entitled Smoke Gets In Your Eyes and was written by series creator Matthew Weiner. You remember his writing credit from The Sopranos.

It is not a premise pilot. It doesn't set up the world. Although it's Peggy's first day at the firm, it doesn't show us the world through her eyes. The main characters are just going about their ordinary business and we have no problem jumping right into the story with them.

The stakes aren't high and there isn't a whole lot of forward momentum in the story. The curtains aren't big turn arounds or cliff hangers.

It's a character study. An exploration of a world and a theme.

The show has fabulous art direction and it looks fantastic.

Plus the writing is incredibly skilled. Weiner is particularly adept with his theme. He recreates the 60s flawlessly and his characters are unusually complex. My only complaint is that I failed to find an emotional connection with the characters.

But the fact that they left me cold might just be an expression of theme.

Advertizing boils it all down to a digestible message.

Which is kind of like what we as television writers sometimes do with our characters. We simplify them, reduce them to a few adjectives or a simple world view. Their clearly defined needs guide their actions. The audience understands why they do what they do and can even predict their next move. Or at the very least, recognize it as logical.

The characters of Mad Men are not predictable or logical.

Check out DMc's post. The character turns left him scratching his head.

Don Draper, the ad man who fronts the cast of characters, asks Midge, the smart, independent and sexually available career woman to marry him. He likes smart women, we conclude.

Then he dises Miss Menkin, the smart, independent and possibly sexually available business woman saying "I'm not going to sit here and let a woman talk to me this way." We must have been wrong. Don hates smart women.

Later, Draper goes home to his sexually available babe of a wife and a child he adores.

Huh?

He's a devoted husband and father?! But he asked Midge to marry him.

The character is a bundle of contradictions. You don't know what he's going to do next.

He refuses to be simplified into a neat, digestible message.

He's messy and complicated and conflicted. Like real people.

Like the world.

Not simple and digestible. Not "healthier" or "toasted" or "finger licking good" like advertizers would have us believe.

This is Matthew Weiner weaving theme deftly into every element of his show.

What is his theme? I thought of Isaac Ho's theory that theme is expressly stated in a pilot's third act at approximately the 30 minute mark. So I went back to the 30 minute mark.

It's the scene at the Lucky Strike pitch meeting. Draper has been struggling with the campaign throughout the episode and here is the big pitch meeting. Draper's dry. He's got nothing. Pete, the upstart kid who's after his job, is at least in there throwing out ideas even they do fall flat. The client gets up to leave. Suddenly Draper has an idea. He pitches a slogan, the client is intrigued but unsure.

Then, at 32:11, he has this speech:

DRAPER

Advertizing is based on one thing. Happiness. And you know what happiness is? Happiness is the smell of a new car. It's freedom from fear. It's a billboard that screams with reassurance that whatever you're doing it's okay. You are okay.

Weiner thinks we are not okay. His characters are not happy or free from fear, but they are desperately clinging to the hope that they are okay.

Advertizing is based on one thing. Happiness.

Look at the opening titles sequence -- the first thing you see in this teaserless pilot. An executive walks into his office, puts down his briefcase, his window is open.

Suddenly, he is falling and falling and falling down the side of the skyscraper. Advertizing images are reflected in the windows as he falls toward certain death.

Did he jump? Was he pushed? Is he dreaming?

He doesn't hit the ground. He's sitting comfortably -- king of the world -- in his big executive chair.

(My dad had a chair just like that, by the way. And his office on Peel, looked an awful lot like Draper's.)

This isn't a show about happiness. It's about how advertizing's framing of our world makes us unhappy. It's about illusion and image and deception. And how nothing is as simple as advertizing.

Not Weiner's characters nor the relationships between them.

Other characters are as illusive as Draper.

I had no idea what Peggy the secretary was thinking as she settled into her new job. She's passive in most of the scenes. When the kid is crude in her presence, she says nothing. Joan, who runs the secretarial pool, tells her to put a paper bag over herself, examine naked self in the mirror and be brutally honest. And she says, "I always try to be honest." Then she goes out and gets herself a prescription for the Pill.

Huh? Where's the pattern? Who is she? Why isn't Weiner simplifying her for me so I can digest her nice and easily? Oh shit, I think he wants me to think.

The relationships also refused to lay down neatly into expected patterns.

Don chews Pete for mistreating Peggy, warning him that if he acts like that no one will like him. A scene or two later Pete admits that Don is right about him and asks him to be his mentor.

In any other pilot, there would be a handshake and a bonding of the characters we're going to follow for the series.

Instead, Don refuses to shake and as Pete heads down the hall he mutters "fuck you" under his breath.

Boss and secretary don't have a heart-warming, we're-going-to-be-a-family-for-the-run-of-the-series moment either. Don both chews her out and rebuffs her sexual advances.

This isn't neat commercial story telling. This is complicated, messy and unexpected. The antithesis of the reductionism of advertizing. And the most of formulaic of network television shows.

I think part of what attracts Denis and others to this show is the resonance of theme through it.

It's about something.

And the thing it's about is interesting and very relevant to our lives right now.

Weiner has something to say. And this pilot makes me want to keep listening.

Time + Emotion - Jekyll Part 2

I finished reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and am now back to tv. I have decided to wait for the final episode of Jekyll before watching ep 5. I'm looking forward to the mini-binge and dreading saying good-bye to the show.

Meanwhile, so much is building up that I may have to give up sleep to keep up (thanks for the tip, Bill). But before I comment on Mad Men (omg, Denis, I can't wait) and John from Cincinnati (Will is keeping the discussion warm), I have to finish with the pilot of Jekyll.

I wanted to discuss the rising tension in the pilot, but my first post on it got way too long. So here's what I found when I broke it down:

Time is an essential part of how tension is built in this show. Not surprisingly then, the first shot of the series is of a ticking clock. It doesn't create tension for us yet, but it will when we form an emotional connection with Tom Jackman, the series lead. In Jeckyll, time plus emotion equals tension.

The tease and first act are fairly flat in terms of jeopardy, but by the end of the first act, we've begun to feel something for Jackman. So Hyde's impending appearance (time) in front of Jackman's wife (emotion) creates an exciting act break.

Then the tension drops again for the top of act two.

Two sequences into the act, we learn that Hyde is due in twenty minutes. Still Jackman is determined to pursue a clue in the mystery of who is following him. This leads us into a long mid-act sequence of tension that keeps turning. Each turn seems to crank the stakes a little higher.

And when the knife is literally at Jackman's throat and we feel like things can't get any worse, Hyde appears. The heat keeps rising.

The sequence which follows is long, funny, tense and violent. The tension here is the product of a couple of marriages of opposites. Toward Hyde himself, I feel both a revulsion and fascination. He is funny and good-looking, but vicious and the nemesis of Jackman with whom I've finally bonded. And then there's the situation. We want this bullying kid dealt the blow he deserves but we know that wanting that is wrong. We sit at the edge of our seats anticipating that violence.

And after it comes, after this long long mid-second act sequence of high tension, Moffat brings us relief in the form of a drink at the local pub, a good-looking woman and some comedy.

Even though, he plays the rest of the act and most of the following one for comedy, the sense of danger boils beneath the surface. There have been too many surprises. We've felt contradictory emotions, rooted for evil (however quietly) and learned to like Jackman. So here we are on edge and still, the third act curtain is a surprise as it cranks the stakes way way up.

Now Jackman's worst fears are realized; Hyde's next target may not be some (semi-) deserving punk. This time it may be the innocents.

Most of the fourth act plays with time and toys with our emotions in order to achieve another long, agonizing sequence of tension.

But when we finally have the answers that relieve that tension, Moffat turns up the heat one last time. The dams break on Jackman's anger and we realize that the rest of the series will be a battle between the two men who inhabit the same body.

What we have is a long long section of tension in the middle of the long long second act. And then a sense of growing danger held at bay with comedy through the rest of act two right up to the third act curtain. The fourth act is one long agonizingly drawn out sequence of tension and fear until almost the end.

Thinking back, it's that long second act sequence of action and drama that bonded me to the series. The plot kept turning and the stakes kept getting higher. It was a powerful viewing experience and left me dying for the next installment.

If Jackman Gets a Hard On, I'm It: Jekyll

Perhaps I have sufficiently conveyed to you my admiration of Jekyll. Now down to business:

The pilot episode, written by Steven Moffat, is laid out in a teaser and four acts and as Anonymous pointed out, it's the pilot for a short-lived miniseries and not for an ongoing series. For that reason it's quite different than many of the other pilots I've posted about.

No, it doesn't apply to what most Canadian writers are doing to respond to the demand (?) from our broadcasters. Our marketplace wants stand alone episodes of unarced series. Miniseries are out of fashion here.

But maybe this is what we should be doing. Maybe an intense six part series is exactly what we should be doing. It seems to me that our audience could commit to a whole six hours of programming. And it's certainly the kind of event television that would fulfill cultural mandates (if those still exist under the current government); drawing the audience into a shared experience. But never mind all that.

Even though this pilot sets up a miniseries, there are very specific lessons to take away from it and to add to my writing toolbox.

I'm going to focus on these things:
the structure, which shines a light on a new part of this world in every act,
the way the show slowly pulls us from a position of skeptical detachment into one of full emotional connection to the lead character
and, (in my next post) the way the tension builds through the episode.

I'm not going to break the whole thing down, beat by beat, but instead I'll talk more about the shape of the acts,.

The episode has a short Teaser, which I described in a previous post, followed by four acts.

What the Acts Do
Each of these five acts unveils new aspects of the world of Jekyll.

In the Teaser, we learn the rules by which Tom Jackman co-exists with the as-yet-unnamed entity who shares his body.

Act One reveals Jackman's life and the huge sacrifice he's made because of Hyde. We get a hint that the rules between them are breaking down.

Act Two shows us Jackman investigating what he calls his unprecedented condition. Half way through the act, Hyde finally makes his first startling appearance. And now we begin to learn about Hyde's life and his attitude toward Jackman.

By Act Three, we learn Jackman's back story and are introduced to a theory about Hyde's existence.

In Act Four, we learn how big the stakes really are for Jackman and it becomes clear that Hyde is going to fight him for total control of his body and his life.

The act by act turns are quite spectacular when you're watching. Not only does more and more of the world get revealed, but the show begins to reveal itself. The special effects change, increase, intensify. And you are dragged further and further from reality as the fantastic elements of the series are slowly revealed.

And your emotional relationship to the show and characters changes as well.

First Shot, First Line
The show opens on a ticking clock.

The first line comes from Jackman, referring to Hyde:

JACKMAN

He's due at midnight. He's usually punctual.

Act Lengths and The Curtains
Tease: 4 minutes
Act One: 6 minutes
Act Two: 20 minutes
Act Three: 12 minutes
Act Four: 91/2 minutes

The Teaser ends on an image of Hyde's eyes popping open. It's an intriguing moment, rather than one of jeopardy.

Act One ends with a dip to black as Jackman's car pulls away and we are quite certain that Hyde is in the driver's seat (although we don't see him yet). Again, the curtain is more of mystery than it is of danger.

The long, long and very exciting second act ends with a startling display of Hyde's powers which prove that he is not anywhere close to a normal human being. Now we're weirded out and we can't look away, but it isn't a cliff-hanger; nothing is hanging in the balance, except what is at stake for the entire series: Jackman's life (and maybe reality as we know it).

Act Three ends with an enormous cliffhanger. Characters we've come to know may or may not be dead or injured and innocent lives may be in danger. The stakes have gotten huge.

The episode ends with Jackman declaring war on Hyde. The stakes are huge, but the events in this episode are clearly complete. We have been reminded of the continuing story threads earlier in the act, but as the curtain falls what we have before us on the screen are Jackman's intense emotions, his determination to protect what is dear to him from the other man inside his body. It is not a hard cliffhanger like the one at the end of the Burn Notice pilot or any episode of Heroes. Instead it's an ending that closes off a story but drives you toward the next beginning.


The Viewer's Emotional Thru-Line
The teaser introduces us to Dr Tom Jackman and Katherine Reimer, the psychiatric nurse he's hired as his minder. Watching the tease, we share Reimer's detached p.o.v. and feel maybe even more than a little skeptical about the drama Jackman's laying on. Even as the act ends, with the startling moment when Hyde's bloodshot eyes pop open, we don't feel any sense of danger, just clinical interest. We definitely want to see what's coming next, but our emotions haven't been sucked into it yet.

In Act One, we meet Jackman's family, see that his wife and kids love him and the agony he feels at his forced separation from them. His emotion brings in ours. By the end of the act, when he seems in physical pain as he tries to prevent Hyde from making an unscheduled appearance in front of his wife, we are sympathetic toward Jackman, even if we aren't quite sure whether his fear is warranted.

Act Two continues to build Jackman's reality and our empathy for him. Then comes the sequence when he visits the private detective and suddenly we are in Jackman's shoes with him. It's all as new and bewildering to him as it is to us. It's taken the tease plus one and half acts to get us to the point where we're seeing the world through Jackman's eyes; what a perfect time to put him in physical danger.

Boom. Hyde bursts out.

HYDE
First fag of the day always hits the spot.

And Moffat toys with our emotions here. Because we hate this punk with the knife who's been bullying Jackman and want to see him put in his place. So yay for the appearance of the cavalry in the form of Hyde. And he's funny. And larger than life. And maybe, kind of appealing. But out of control. Too violent. Scary.

And what do those special effects signify? We're not quite ready to accept the implications.

And by the end of the act, the jury's still out on Hyde. He's a complicated character and we're not sure how to feel. But one thing's certain; reality has slipped away and we're in a world of unprecedented possibilities.

We're already exhausted by the time the curtain goes up on Act Three and so is Jackman. Now that Moffat has revealed to us how distant from our reality he's prepared to take us, he's ready to give us some back story. We fully appreciate why Jackman has that deer in the headlights look about him and know that his level of anxiety is justified. In fact, we begin to suspect that maybe he's not quite fearful enough. And that's when we get hit with the first truly scary act break.

Act Four is a web of filmic tension, the sweet agony of horror. Along with Jackman, we know that worst may have happened. We want to look, we don't want to look. The identification with Jackman is complete. And when he freaks out we know he's justified. And when he finally declares war on Hyde, we applaud him.

The Third Act Statement of Theme
Isaac Ho, over at the Script Enabler, tells us to look for a statement of theme in the third act and here it is about the 41 minute mark:

CALLENDAR
How often in this world does the sun rise on something completely
new? And how often do we mistake a miracle for a monster?

That's enough for today. Next time, the patterns of escalating tension through this pilot.

Life on Mars Times Two

I've just finished reading the two pilot scripts for Life on Mars. One was the 2005 "Amended Pink" draft of the British original, written by co-creators Tony Jordan, Matthew Graham and Ashley Pharoah. The other was the 2007 first draft of the American remake written by David E Kelley and Stu Moss.

("Amended Pink" sounds like one of those drafts producers like to get for free, the revised second draft or the first draft polish.)

The two scripts are incredibly similar. Character names, descriptions and the entire story line of the pilot are the same in both. Many scenes are identical, but for the removal of the heavy British slang in the original, an updating for the technology (blackberries and Google Earth) and some streamlining of the story (which is quite effective for such a small touch).

Life on Mars, if you don't know, is the story of a modern day cop who somehow finds himself back in 1972. I had seen some episodes of the British original but it never grabbed me too much. The dilemma of being back in time was interesting, but I found it emotionally bleak. And emotions that I didn't think were earned. There's a lot of cops punching cops without much build up and men and women getting attracted to each other rather quickly and without reason. It seemed to me at the time.

I may or may not have sort of fast forwarded through a few episodes to try to find out if Sam got back to the future but by now, I don't even remember. I just didn't connect with the story emotionally and didn't end up committing.


But reading the script, I was much much more sucked in oddly. In fact, I read the British version first, the produced version of which I hadn't particularly enjoyed. On paper, I felt the jeopardy and was pulled along with the momentum and emotion of the story which hadn't happened when I watches it. There are a few moments which still don't ring true for me but I enjoyed the read.

The Americanized version is an even faster read, because some of the sub-plotting is gone. But what remains is very similar right down to scene structure and plenty of the dialogue.

I guess the point is very little about this premise needed changing for it to work in the American market. Or maybe that's wrong, because I read that the ABC version of the series is on hold.

Below, a two part video interview with the creators of the original series in which they tell how every broadcaster in the country turned them down, sometimes more than once.

The writers talk about creating the show.

Three by Sorkin

I'm almost done with Teasers (for a while at least) but before I move on I thought I might compare Aaron Sorkin's approach to the opening moments of three different shows: Sports Night, West Wing and Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip.



Sports Night was a half hour series so you can't compare it to any of the other pilot teasers I've discussed thus far. The pilot opens with a quick little traditional sit com teaser of just a minute and a half in length. Entitled "The Quality of Mercy" and written by Bill Wrubel and Aaron Sorkin, the episode launches us right into the premise with the Sports Night show live on the air and Dan and Casey delivering their fast-paced banter. When the show goes to commercial, we visit the control room characters for more witty banter about…well, nothing really. And then we go to main titles and credits.

This is not a setup pilot. It could be any episode in the series. Sure it has some stuff about how the characters got to be on Sports Night, but you could have written this episode at any point in the course of the series and had the same (or more) impact. The purpose of this teaser isn't to introduce the story lines for the episode or to let you know who the characters are. Instead, the purpose of this minute and a half seems to be to bring you into the world and give you your first taste of Sorkin's smart dialogue.

Here are some Sports Night scripts, including a draft of the pilot.

A lot of people loved Sports Night. But not as many as loved West Wing.

West Wing came out of the box with style. The pre-titles teaser takes us sequentially through the series' main characters (or at least the characters who Sorkin thought would be the focus of the series back when he was writing the pilot). We start with a scene featuring Sam which serves to tell us a bit about his character and introduce the episode's main storyline (will Josh get fired). Then come a series of short scenes which mostly explore character: Leo finds a mistake in the New York Times crossword puzzle, CJ flirts and ends up falling off the treadmill, Josh sleeps at his desk and Toby rails against airline stupidity. These scenes are held together by the thinnest of plot devices: a story about the president falling off his bike (which will take about four more beats to complete). In each of the scenes, these characters refer to potus. And we're asking ourselves, what are they talking about? The answer comes in the final scene of the teaser, which establishes another of the episodes' sub-plots (Sam slept with a hooker): they've all been talking about the President of the United States. (Music swells, cut to those patriotism inspiring main title shots of the White House.)


The opening for Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip is very different. The leads, Danny and Matt, aren't even in it. They don't appear for a while. Instead, this Teaser serves to set up the series premise. It's set at the show behind the show just as it goes live to air. As you recall, the show runner goes crazy (like that could ever happen) and the way is cleared for Danny and Matt to return. It's a fourteen page teaser in the script (back then called Studio 7) and it's filled with Sorkin's brilliant snappy dialogue. What we learn about is the world of this fictional tv series and the forces that control it (sponsors, network execs and censors).


While the West Wing and Sports Night pilots drags us into typical episode of their respective series and show us just what the next zillion episodes will be like, at the Studio 60 pilot we are left wondering what the heck he's going to do next week. I think it may have taken Sorkin a while to figure it out too.

Don't Let 'Em Go

I have a bunch of scripts for the pilots that got picked up by the US nets for the fall. I'm still working my way through the reading. But leafing through I've noticed a trend toward the beefy opening act.

Sometimes the script labels this section Teaser, sometimes Act One, but by and large they are long. Short is eight pages. But most are upwards of 10. 12, 13, 14 pages seems to be the norm for a Teaser/Act One. A couple of the scripts have 17, 18 page openings. Only one of the nearly dozen scripts has an anemic, traditional 3 page teaser.

If you've got an audience to tune in, why let them go? Keep them watching as long as possible before giving them a break in the action.

Act One of the pilot script for Pushing Daisies is 18 pages long.

Dirty Sexy Money Pilot Script

I spent the morning on another of the scripts that went to pilot and got picked up for the fall season. Dirty Sexy Money by Six Feet Under screenwriter, Craig Wright, is coming to ABC and CTV. This one is much harder to discuss without spoilers because it's very much about character, but I can give you some stats and structure.

The draft I read was labeled "network draft" and it was still titled with its rather bland original name "The Darlings". I kind of love the new name even though the pilot only really delivers on the money and hints at the dirty. We can only assume there's sex to come.

The script is 59 jam-packed pages plus title page. It with Act One (not a Teaser) and presumably the screenwriter believes that once he's got you, he should hold onto you as long as he can. The act runs a full 14 pages. Act Two is nine pages, Act Three 11, Act Four is 14 pages, Act Five is a mere six pages and Act Six is a mere five pages, perhaps qualifying it as a tease.

The act breaks are a good deal less cliffhangerish than you might expect, but they are clearly tent pole moments in the story. Act One ends with the death of the protagonist's father in flashback. Act Two ends with a flashback to the moment when he accepts the job that we already know he has. Act Three, again in flashback, drops the curtain on the job out of control. As Act Four ends, the reporter interviewing him in the present, accuses him of lying and he turns the tables by establishing that he knows she is lying too. At the end of Act Five it becomes clear that the reporter is a player in all of this in a different way and as the episode ends, the lead must decide whether to launch an investigation that will hurt the family his father spent a lifetime protecting.

There are a lot of characters to introduce and a lot of back story to present because this is going to be one of those arcing series in which many characters play out soapy storylines. The screenwriter uses a very clear structure to introduce the world, the people and the storylines that will develop over season one. The main through line has the protagonist (described economically as "pensive in a perfect suit") being interviewed by a sly reporter. We hear what he tells the reporter and flashback to an alternate version of the events. Through the flashbacks we meet everyone we need to know, first in the 1960s and 70s and then over the last few weeks.

Book ending the interview, at the top and tail of the episode are scenes that set up what we can only imagine is an important continuing storyline about the possible murder of the protagonist's father. Have I given away too much?

The stakes are money, fame and integrity. There's very little jeopardy compared to Viva Laughlin and the lead seems to be a straight up good guy who for reasons we don't entirely believe has given up a life of working for food banks and beleaguered nuns in order to keep a bunch of spoiled rich grown ups out of trouble. But there is mystery to the story, who are these people and why is our guy willing to abandon his own life to coddle them? It's the momentum of the narrative that pulled me in and kept me reading. The voice is breezy and the script is full of easily digestible moments: we know what's coming. The characters are familiar too: the political contender, Paris Hilton, the evil priest, the sexy ex and so on. This familiarity, the way the story seems to meet our expectations is part of what makes the script such an easy read. Also the characters are credible and all seem to have a depth of feeling; we might start to care about them.

There's no action and no sex (although all the women are sexy and men good-looking), but there is something compelling about the lives of the rich and famous and the potential juice of the soapy storylines that are set in motion. If we're lucky it will be a hipper, quirkier version of Dallas, if not, then it'll be Dynasty rehashed. But I will be watching and I'm looking forward to seeing how the script lifts to the screen.

Viva Laughlin Pilot Script

I just read the script for Viva Laughlin, one of the pilots picked up for the fall by CBS and Global. Great script. The script by Huff creator Robert Lowry is a good read, has fabulously well-drawn characters and lots and lots of stakes. I can't wait to watch.

I don't want to give away any of the story or character details, but I do want to get into the structure of the script.

It's 67 pages long. The tease ends a quarter of the way down page 10, which is long for a tease, but once you've got their eyes, why would you let them get away? Act One ends right right at the top of page 22, making it really an 11 page act. Act Two ends halfway down 37, so 14.5 pages. Act Three is the only meaty act at 23 pages and Act Four scrapes in at just 9 pages and then there are 6 and a quarter pages of tag.

The tease sets up a man with a dream and ends with his dream in imminent danger. In the first act it gets worse, but the curtain is a kiss between our protagonist and his wife. The second act ends with a murder, the third with our guy threatened by the devil and his dream slipping away from him. The fourth act ends with his son coming forward with at least part of the solution and the episode ends with our guy, surrounded by family, triumphant.

The show focuses primarily on the protagonist, with very few scenes that don't include him. It hints at a season arc because the murder is unresolved and our guy looks like the best suspect.

The way I read the script, our guy's big dream in danger is the A-Story. The lines involving his wife and each of his kids are the three sub-plots. You might think of the hooks into the season arc as other threads running through.

Here's my haiku-style beat sheet of the action:

Tease
Meet a man who is on top of the world and filled with optimism
Meet his family, he only wants them to be happy but they are not
He gives his son a very generous gift
That he probably can't afford
In addition to his family, he has a big big dream
There are a LOT of problems
He refuses to let them get to him
He's part con-man, part humanitarian, all dreamer
His nemesis shows up with a threat to the dream that he can't ignore

Act One
He runs through the quick fixes, but all are out of the question
The only solutions are impossible
He will not be defeated
He rallies the team
He has a plan
Meanwhile things get more complicated with his daughter
His wife loves him but knows there's a problem. He tells her part of it
Meet the Devil
Our guy's big plan is to get in bed with the Devil
At least he has the love of a good woman behind him

Act Two
Our guy makes his pitch
It's a beauty
Undeniable
The Devil wants in
The Devil wants it all
The Devil is going to take the whole dream away from our guy in two days (tick tick)
Our guy channels his fury at this reversal by adeptly solving the problem his daughter doesn't believe she has
Meanwhile, his wife is having a day
She's worried about him, trying to support him, but he's not at the appointed spot
He's with a woman who's coming on to him
His new plan is to enlist the help of the vixen
She's noncommital
The wife is pissed at being stood up
He spends the night getting drunk
In the morning, he finds his nemesis murdered

Act Three
The vixen accuses our guy of the murder
The police take an interest, our guy squirms
He and his wife fight about all of it
His son overhears the secrets shouted in anger
He pleads for his wife's understanding
The cops make a plan
They try to befriend the wife without success
The vixen is connected to the Devil's henchman
The Devil's henchman visits our guy to remind him that time is up and the screws are about to tighten.

Act Four
Wife tries to make nice but his son wonders if he's a murderer and his daughter slams doors and cries
He makes nice with his daughter, a little con helps her see him as an understanding father
The cops try again and soften the wife just a little
Our guy says a prayer
He can't resist a bet
His son believes in him, at least enough to provide him with a big piece of the solution

Tag
He takes the partial solution from the son and with new self-conviction takes a huge risk that could end it all
And then he takes a huger risk
And wins
Suddenly he's back in the driver's seat.
The vixen is on hold
The Devil gets his pay
The dream comes together
Surrounded by his adoring family, our guy stands triumphant.

Simplicity itself.