Page Text: Spring Training finally begins and here are some Friday Questions during pitching changes.
Elf starts us off:
Given everything you said about discarding jokes if they're too obvious or common, have you ever had a joke or even just a punchline you liked so much you kept it in your back pocket then tried to reverse engineer a scene around it? I think of the Aristocrats joke or Norm MacDonald's moth joke where there are very simple punchlines but they only work with the proper setup.
I can honestly say no. At ALL times I serve the story and the characters, not a joke (no matter how great I think it is).
To create or twist a scene to shoehorn in a joke is a sign of a bad writer.
And similarly, if a joke, even a great joke, gets in the way of a scene, you must take it out.
It’s not that good jokes are so easy to come by, but you have to preserve the integrity of your show (or script) above all, and to compromise that for the sake of a laugh is, to me, a cardinal sin.
cd1515 queries:
You mentioned you’re looking for the sitcom that makes you laugh. Is it possible because of what you do and have done, and the thousands of jokes I’m guessing you have pitched and heard pitched, that you would always see it coming and nothing would make you truly laugh at this point, just because of your history?
That’s a fair question and the answer is no. Nothing pleases me more than to see a form of entertainment that makes me genuinely laugh. In terms of sitcoms, it may be harder because I have seen so many but fresh ones stand out.
I’ll occasionally laugh at something from Weekend Update. I participate in those one-day play festivals at the Ruskin Theatre and a number of fellow playwrights produce work that makes me laugh out loud. John Mullaney always makes me laugh, so do a few other stand-ups. CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM occasionally makes me laugh (I find it inconsistent but when they hit it — bullseye!). Certain cartoonists in the New Yorker totally delight me.
But rarely does a current sitcom make me laugh. Sorry, they just don’t.
From Todd Long:
My son is taking an "America in the 1970s" class in college, and this question was on the midterm: "What can a viewer expect to take away from an episode of MASH?" I was curious as to how you would answer that.
A reader responded in the comments section and answered it as well or better than I could. So I’m posting that, with thanks to reader JessyS.
Here is how I would answer the M*A*S*H question.
Though MASH is an anti-war series at its heart, it captures the heroics of a group of medical soldiers as they save lives on a daily basis. Like many sitcoms of that era, this show captures the era of life perfectly. Both the movie and series are based on real life experiences of the Korean War but also reflect the realities of Vietnam and the pictures shown on American TV screens as people were injured or died in battle.
Thanks, JessyS.
And finally, from DBenson:
What dictates how a character is written out or replaced, once an actor wants out or a suit decrees it? Do you try to keep (or make) a departing character sympathetic out of regard for the actor? Were you ever tempted to give an unpleasant actor a parting kick by making his/her character a jerk, or even by including physically uncomfortable action ("And then we dump the simulated bat guano ..."). Is there a case for or against making a character's departure a big event?
Just speaking for myself, the nature of the story dictates the reason for killing off a character.
I’m sure some producers are vindictive, but we’re not. We also haven’t killed too many. (How many regulars on 24 got offed? A dozen? 24?)
David Isaacs and I had to kill off the Eddie LeBec character in CHEERS. In that case, we had to make him unsympathetic so the audience would be glad Carla was rid of him. That’s why we made him a bigamist. But that was a tricky dance — making a previously lovable character unsympathetic while finding a funny way to do that. I think we pulled it off and it’s one of my proudest episodes. Sorry Eddie.
What’s your Friday Question?
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