How QUANTICO got on the air

Recently I got ahold of the BLINDSPOT pitch meeting. Today I’ve been fortunate enough to get the transcript of the QUANTICO pitch meeting between the show’s writer/creator and ABC.

Writer/Creator: We understand you have a development deal with Priyanka Chopra, the hot Bollywood star.

ABC: (holds up a framed photo) Yes, here is a photo of her.

W/C: Uh, that’s a photo of a different Bollywood actress.

ABC: Oh. Right. I get them confused.

W/C: Well, I’ve got the perfect vehicle for Priyanka.

ABC: Okay, but I warn you, we’re already developing a sitcom for her. An Indian family show to go along with our black family show, Asian family show, Jewish family show, and Korean family show.

W/C: I’ve seen film on her and she’s not funny.

ABC: There’s film on her?

W/C: Yes. She’s an international movie star.

ABC: Can she act?

W/C: That’s the great thing about my idea – she doesn’t have to.

ABC: Thank God.  We spent a fortune on that deal. 

W/C: We put her in an hour drama, but we load it with so many tropes and make it so busy and absurd that no one notices. The only thing we ask of her is that she look hot.

ABC: Yes, yes, yes.

W/C: Good acting might get in the way.

ABC: Absolutely. And we have Viola Davis so as a network we’re covered in the good acting department.

W/C: Here’s the premise: Priyanka is an FBI recruit. She’s in training boot camp with the other recruits. Then there’s a big terrorist attack – haven’t figured out what or where yet –

ABC: Could it be the CBS building?

W/C: What? Uh, sure, let’s say it’s that for now.

ABC: Doesn’t have to be. It could be NBC.

W/C: I think terrorists are destroying that place from the inside but okay.

ABC: So there’s a big terrorist attack. From who?

W/C: That’s the hook. Well, one of several. The terrorist is one of the recruits.

ABC: So it could be her?

W/C: It could be her.

ABC: We don’t want it to be her.

W/C: Of course it’s not her.

ABC: But the audience thinks it’s her?

W/C: Absolutely.

ABC: But do they like her if she’s a terrorist?

W/C: If she’s hot enough.

ABC: She is hot enough.

W/C: They’ll love her.

ABC: As long as we don’t show her blowing up something and killing hundreds of people.

W/C: She’s not the terrorist.

ABC: Unless she’s in a thong.

W/C: She’s not the terrorist.

ABC: (holding up photo): Can’t you just see her in a bikini planting a bomb?

W/C: That’s the other Bollywood star.

ABC: Oh. Right. Sorry.

W/C: Now some things about the show. All the recruits are incredible looking.

ABC: What about diversity?

W/C: Every color of the rainbow. Smoking hot cheerleader, smoking hot Muslim girl, elegant African-American boss, Mormon kid…

ABC: Mormon isn’t diverse.

W/C: You’re right. We’ll kill him in the pilot.

ABC: You have to have a gay recruit.

W/C: We got one.

ABC: He can’t be stereotypical.

W/C: We make him a New York Jew.

ABC: Never seen that before. Great.

W/C: It’s a fuckin’ melting pot.

ABC: But a good looking New York gay Jew -- he can’t look too gay or too Jewish.

W/C: We’ll have an open casting call in Nebraska.

ABC: Do you think it’s a problem that in reality pretty much every FBI recruit is male and white?

W/C: Not if Priyanka is hot enough.

ABC: And you’re sure she can act enough to get by?

W/C: It’s hard to tell because of the subtitles but she can run.

ABC: In heels?

W/C: I don’t know if she’s that skilled.

ABC: Well, we can always get a double. (holding up the photo) What about this girl?

W/C: Who is she?

ABC: I don’t know. I’ll send the photo to the promo department. Maybe they’ll know.

W/C: Make sure they don’t accidentally post this girl in an ad instead of Priyanka.

ABC: Come on, that could never happen.

W/C: Okay.

ABC: So let’s go over the tropes. FBI show – check. Hot babe action star – check. Big mystery to solve – check. Which one is the terrorist, by the way?

W/C: The actor who questions his lines.

ABC: Gotcha. There are still some tropes missing.

W/C: Everybody has secrets.

ABC: Check.

W/C: There's not a moment in the show that's even remotely plausible.

ABC:  Big check there.  

W/C: Our hot star sleeps around, always one night stands – so the nerd in the basement watching this shit will fantasize that she’s saving herself for him.

ABC: Or for me.  Check.

C/W: Authority figures that may or may not be good guys.

ABC: You've done your homework.

C/W: The star has to clear her name.

ABC: Oooh, you got THE FUGITIVE trope in there too. Nicely done.

C/W: A wildly expensive super slick pilot with explosions and car chases and sex and violence. Once we get a pick up, all subsequent episodes will cut every corner we can.

ABC: All of this sounds awesome, but I worry about the longterm prospects. What if this show goes seven years?

C/W: You mean, how long can we keep this premise going? At what point do we have to identify the terrorist and then what is the show about?

ABC: Huh? No. We don’t care about any of that crap. In seven years will she be hot?

C/W: If not, we’ll shoot her character and find someone who is.

ABC: Wait a minute. “Who shot Priyanka?”

C/W: Exactly.

ABC: Okay. I love it. We just have to call Shonda Rhimes and see if it’s alright with her that we’re developing a pilot without her.

C/W: (grabbing the photo) Get back to me soon or we’re going to NBC with this girl.

Writing under less than ideal conditions

When my partner and I started out we would lock ourselves in a room whenever we wrote. We couldn’t have any distractions. Most of the time that meant working in one of our apartments so it was easy to do… except for the neighbor across the courtyard who kept playing the Jethro Tull WAR CHILD album over and over. But we eventually killed him so that problem was solved.

When we finally went on staff of a show and got our first office we would always keep the door closed. Just the idea of people going by or our secretary answering a phone was too distracting. How could we be funny if we saw two people walking down the hall?

Then we stepped into our first writing room. The showrunners were the great Tom Patchett & Jay Tarses, two of the funniest men I’ve ever known. The writers sat around a kitchen table and just dictated the script. There was a writers’ assistant right there in the room taking shorthand. Yes, an actual intruder! Besides that, the door was open and there was always steady traffic in and out of the room. The casting director had questions, the prop guy needed to show us crossbows, the P.A. dragged in a new foosball table.

At first this was very intimidating. Like in the seventh grade when I first had to shower with everybody in gym class. And unlike school, I had to get over it in under two years.

What you learn real quick is that part of the skill of sitcom writing is the ability to concentrate and perform on demand. You’re always under pressure. You’re never going to be able to control the conditions. So you just have to deliver.

By the end of that first week I was starting to feel comfortable enough that I could pitch a joke now and again. One, I remember, actually made it in! I was so proud of myself – coming through under the toughest of all conditions.

Or so I thought.

Then came show night. This was a multi-camera series (THE TONY RANDALL SHOW for MTM if you’re scoring) and the writers all stand around the floor behind the cameras looking important. During a scene one of the jokes bombed. After the director yelled, “Cut!” Tom and Jay got us all in a huddle. We needed a new joke NOW. Holy shit! There were two hundred people in the audience waiting, another hundred crew members waiting… all on the clock. All looking at us. This was like having to shower in front of a school assembly.

I was frozen while the more experienced writers, Gary David Goldberg and Hugh Wilson fired joke suggestions at Tom & Jay as if it was nothing. One was selected, the scene was re-shot, and the new joke got a huge laugh. Yep. This was the Big Leagues. And I was a rookie.

Through trial by fire I eventually felt comfortable contributing in that aspect of the job as well.

The next season we moved on to MASH. That’s a single-camera show. No audience. So you’d think it would be easier, right?

Uh…no.

The first day of filming every episode was a rehearsal day. The cast would move from set to set on Stage 9 at 20th Century Fox and rehearse their scenes. Once they were satisfied, David and I were summoned to come watch the scene and then go off and do any rewriting that was necessary. But since it made no sense to keep schlepping back and forth between our office and the stage every half hour, we just did our rewrites right there on the stage. We commandeered a table in the mess tent and that’s where we worked – with actors, crew people, extras, God-knows-who walking by. And in some cases just sitting down and joining us. We’re trying to fix a scene and some extra plops himself down at the table and begins eating a burrito. We eventually killed him, too.

Again, it’s a skill that most writers have to learn. But schools never teach it. That was one of the reasons why I started the Sitcom Room. Sure wish I had had the chance to experience what room writing was like before I was on a network show.

I have no plans however, to start the Shower Room seminar.

This is a re-post from four or five years ago.

Dance Me to the End of Love

I LOVE this video.  Leonard Cohen's great "Dance Me to the End of Love" with a montage of Cary Grant dancing.  Maybe the coolest guy EVER. 

Friday Questions

The Friday Questions of October begin this week.

Andrew starts us off.

Did the cast and crew of Frasier and Seinfeld get along, since they were always in competition for Emmy's, etc.? Was their attitude mutual respect, friendly rivalry, or disdainful competition?

I never got the sense that the actors felt they were a “team” in competition with other “teams” from other shows. I’m sure there are some actors who bristle that they always lose Emmys to some other actors, but for the most part I think actors appreciate the good performances they see from their peers.

It’s the same for writers. When I would watch a “competing” sitcom (notably SEINFELD) I was thrilled when it gave me some genuine laughs.

From Powerhouse Salter:

What current drama series would you say has a good sense of humor? By sense of humor, I guess I mean a relaxed and subtly comic air that relieves the overwrought drama and succeeds in doing so without resorting to one-liner jokes or a wacky supporting character.

THE GOOD WIFE to be sure. I get more laughs from THE GOOD WIFE than most comedies. SUITS provides some hearty chuckles as well. I don’t watch CRIMINAL MINDS but I’m guessing they’re not a laugh riot. In fact, I don’t watch a lot of current hour dramas so I imagine there are a few that do employ humor that I just am missing.  Is WALKING DEAD funny?

In the recent past I’d say JUSTIFIED (Dewey Crowe was the funniest character on television period), MAD MEN, and particularly BREAKING BAD.

Ike Iszany asks:

Watching Cheers on line I notice they put a title card in where the first commercial break would be. When you write and direct a show do you use the breaks to your advantage or are they something that gets in the way? When I watch some sit-coms on DVD I feel like they suffer without the breaks. You can feel the show changes tempo a bit in the second segment without the break.

I finally found a person who likes having commercial breaks.

Actually, we design our stories around the commercial breaks and try to build to our act break. We want the moment of greatest suspense to come right before the commercial. That way we (in theory) hold the audience through the ten minutes of endless spots.

If there were no commercials (e.g. our show as on AMAZON) we probably would break stories differently.

DwWashburn has some observations and questions about MASH:

In my opinion, the only two "missteps" that the series took was the introduction of Loudon Wainwright III as the camp's minstrel and the marriage of Margaret. Since you were there during the latter, can you give any behind the scenes insight for this storyline. Did they know from day one that this was a mistake? Was it dropped quickly because of fan reaction, network notes, realization that storylines were limited, a combination of these or other reasons?

The Loudon Wainwright balladeer idea was an experiment in the early Larry Gelbart/ Gene Reynolds years. It didn’t work but I love them for constantly trying to think out of the box and stretch the form.

The decision to marry off Hot Lips came the year we were writing freelance for the series. So we were not in on the reasons for the decision.

We just inherited it. The problem was we were dealing with a long distance relationship and could only see one side. And it meant Hot Lips couldn’t be interested in anyone else. It cut down on her storylines. 

Plus, any value there was to a long-distance relationship we were getting from B.J.

We tried to do some one-sided stories, and those resulted in Hot Lips screaming at unseen-hubby over the phone. It just made her a shrew. So we quickly abandoned that.

We even brought her husband in for an episode. If memory serves we had to cast a different actor because the original Donald Penobscott wasn’t available. There wasn’t much chemistry.

The storyline just didn’t work so we bailed the beginning of the next season and broke them up.  That was our decision.  We received no pressure from the network or studio. 

Oh well. Some things work and some things don’t. But you gotta try.

What’s your Friday Question?

Help me Rhonda, or anybody

I’m not alone.

I’ve been hearing this song my entire life and have never figured out what the opening lyric meant. It’s from “Help Me Rhonda” by the Beach Boys. The thrust of the song is that a guy is hoping his new girlfriend Rhonda will help him forget about his old girlfriend who dumped him. (Or, some suggest “Rhonda” is actually his new car. Seems a big stretch. but the song is included in an album of their car songs so who knows? But that’s for another deep esoteric blog post.) For the moment let’s assume “Rhonda” is a girl. (It could also be a pet. STOP IT! It’s a girl!)

Here’s the first line of the song:

Well, since she put me down I’ve been out doin’ in my head

The second line is:

Come in late at night and in the mornin’ I just lay in bed.

Okay, I get line two, but explain line one.

Pat St. John, a great disc jockey, who hosts the midday show on the Sirius/XM ‘60s channel, also was confused and tried to get an answer. He went to Al Jardine, one of the original Beach Boys and he too was not completely certain. He gave Pat a vague explanation and Pat tried to communicate it on his show recently, but I’m still totally baffled. (This is like the original movie version of THE BIG SLEEP. I defy anyone, even Raymond Chandler who wrote the book, to explain the plot.)

So what’s your take? If you have an explanation I’d love to hear it (or read it in the comments). If I find one that’s really clear I’ll pass it on to Pat.

Thanks. And here’s the song itself.

Andy Ackerman's approach to directing

Here’s one of those Friday Questions that not only became a whole post, but required a guest blogger to answer it.

Andy (not Ackerman) asked:

What is it like for someone (such as Andy Ackerman) to work on two shows simultaneously with such different approaches to comedy?

Andy directed FRASIER and SEINFELD simultaneously, among others.

For those who don’t know, Andy Ackerman is an Emmy winning director who directed 87 episodes of SEINFELD. He has also directed pretty much everything else. He directed the pilots of both ALMOST PERFECT and BIG WAVE DAVE’S, and directed every episode of BIG WAVE DAVE’S – all six of them.

Oh, and he was one of my mentors. I learned directing by watching him on WINGS.

Anyway, I reached out to Andy to see if he would answer the question and he graciously did. It’s a great answer and also tells you a lot about his personality and approach to life.  Here's his answer:

That's an interesting question from your reader. Here's a possible thought:

I've never really approached a given show as being that different, even though they are different. I suppose, for me, it would be akin to my approach as a parent. Meaning, I've four children, all with their own individual voices, sensibilities, tones, styles, personalities, etc. I may adjust to each one accordingly, when dealing with them one on one. But in the end, regardless of that individual child, I'm still the same parent/guide/coach/director. 

So, to very loosely use that analogy, I basically approach either given show the same way, because I am, well, me. In other words, I just jump in, be myself, and implement whatever contributions I can to help the script, actors, and final product be the best/ funniest it can hopefully be. Whether I'm a parent, or director, or just dealing with day to day life, I rely on my instincts. Frankly, your instincts can be your greatest tool.

It seems to have worked out. My kids are pretty funny.

Again, my thanks to Andy Ackerman. One day we’re going to reboot BIG WAVE DAVE’S and he’ll be my first call.

Uh oh, another rant

As I figured, yesterday’s post generated a lot of discussion. Let me respond to one comment, from reader Jim, that I thought was particularly well written and insightful. Jim wrote:

The scene you described struck me, when I saw it, as belonging to that contemporary school of comedy writing that has no use (for) gags in a comedy scene. In fact, this approach to comedy avoids anything that might make the audience laugh out loud. Anything that could be clearly identified as "a gag." That's old-fashioned and hackneyed. To write this kind of scene, you never have your characters say or do anything that might come off as funny. Instead, the laughs are supposed to be inherent in the situation itself, not in how the characters react to the situation or how they deal with it. This style of comedy writing is all set-up and no payoff.

I do understand that writers want to avoid having their characters speak in zingers and one-liners. Too many sitcoms fall into that trap, and it's annoying. (My wife has been working her way through THE GOLDEN GIRLS lately, and I swear, that show needed a drummer just offstage, playing rim shots.) But, you know, it's entirely possible to have your characters saying and doing funny things, in finding funny angles to your situation, without everyone coming off like Morey Amsterdam or your script like an episode of I MARRIED JOAN.

Thanks again, Jim. Very thoughtful comment. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to use it as a springboard for today’s old retro guy’s rant.

I totally agree that filling a script with zingers makes a show feel tired and old fashioned. And trust me, there’s nothing harder to write. When you have two characters sitting at the breakfast table and there’s nothing going on but you have to give each one funny line after funny line, it’s torture. And unreal. And forced.

But that isn’t to say funny lines are to be avoided. There were funny lines in SEINFELD and funny lines in FRIENDS, and FRASIER and ALWAYS SUNNY IN PHILADELPHIA and 30 ROCK. There are funny lines in ARCHER and BROAD CITY. Millennials will, in the privacy of their own homes, laugh at funny lines.

To me, when a writer is justifying not making a scene funny it’s just a smokescreen for lazy writing. The message I get is that he is incapable of writing a funny scene. He doesn’t have the chops to make someone laugh.

Anyone can come up with “inherent” comic situations. Comedy writers make something of those situations. Prove to me you’re really funny first and then discuss style.

Here’s what I find really perplexing? Why would anyone want to become a comedy writer if he’s embarrassed at making people laugh? If he thinks that presenting something genuinely funny is somehow beneath him, somehow compromising his principles? Why go into boxing if you’re opposed to violence? If you think sugar is bad for people why become a sous chef?

I’m sorry but to me, self-aware characters who observe situations instead of being forced to act upon them are dull and uninteresting. Irony is worse than “gags.” Equating situations with pop culture references instead of reacting with strong attitudes and emotions is a crutch.

Call me old and a hack and out of touch – that’s fine. I’m proud to be a COMEDY writer. I’m proud to have made people laugh for many years. I’m not saving lives but it’s a noble profession. I’m providing joy to millions of people. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. There’s nothing to apologize for.

Baseball analogy (oh no!): There are some hitters who have “warning track” power. That means they don’t have the strength and ability to hit the ball far enough to go over the fence for a home run. Instead they hit long fly outs. Imagine these players saying, “Home runs are passé. Sure I could hit them, but I don’t want to. Home runs are showy and seriously, haven’t we all seen enough home runs? Why should I stoop to that level?” Turn on many of these new TV comedies. That’s what you’re seeing – 300 foot fly ball outs, except instead of the hitter being shipped off to the minors where he belongs, he’s pumping his fist in triumph.

There is but one truism in comedy -- regardless of the style, year, or sensibility:

PEOPLE WANT TO LAUGH

It is not:

PEOPLE WANT TO BE MILDLY AMUSED 

or:

PEOPLE WANT TO FEEL SUPERIOR TO THEIR ENTERTAINMENT

How to begin a pilot

Let’s say I’m given a pilot to write. And for whatever reason, this has to be my first scene: Young guy brings the girl he’s recently dated back to her place. She invites him in the for the first time. He’s excited because he figures he’s going to get laid. But when they step inside he learns that her ex-fiancé is on the couch. He still lives there.

Okay. That could be funny.

Actually, it better be. Pilots are much harder to write than normal episodes and the first scenes of pilots are the hardest of all. Why? Here’s what you have to do: Establish the premise, introduce the characters, begin a story, forge the tone, and make it really funny. As the expression goes: You only have one chance to make a first impression. That first scene has to hook the audience. Viewers have to feel they’re in good hands; that they will be rewarded for spending their precious time sampling your pilot for thirty minutes.

So that’s my assignment.

First, a disclaimer. I realize I’m old school, retro, out of touch, whatever. My approach is based on experience, a certain sensibility, and principles I believe to be universal and timeless. Feel free to seek other approaches.

My initial thought is: who are these characters? How can I make them interesting? How can I give them traits or behavior that is fun, identifiable, and sets up an intriguing dynamic between them? For now I’ll call the young couple Matt and Colleen.

And in concert with that, how can I make the situation as funny as possible? Not just amusing, not just wry – this is the opening scene of my pilot, maybe the only scene a viewer will watch – I can’t afford for it to be anything other than laugh out loud funny. It’s always best to give characters strong attitudes or goals and for this particular situation I would think it would heighten things if Matt really needs to get laid. He hasn’t had sex in awhile so he is champing at the bit. Guys will go to great comic lengths to get sex (so I've been told).  Now the scene becomes one of frustration and my job is the construct the funniest cock blocking scenario.

So I consider possibilities. What if…?

What if they get in the house, the ex-fiancé is there, and he’s really belligerent? “This is the ferret you left me for?” The couple get into a fight and the poor Matt is in the middle, all the while being belittled. Maybe. Matt could be somewhat insecure and this feeds into his neurosis. But he still tries to work things out and get the ex-fiancé to leave.

Or they get in the house and the ex is crying? Matt has to console him.

Or the ex goes on an on about what a bitch Colleen is. He shatters any illusion. Matt is torn between wanting desperately to sleep with her and to run.

Or the ex is not there when they get to the house. Things heat up quickly. Matt is practically undressed on the couch when the ex comes home. Puts Matt in the most compromising position possible. (Comedy writers are evil, aren't we?)

Or it doesn’t appear that the ex is home. Matt & Colleen are in bed and Matt hears crying from the other room. Learns that the ex still has the adjacent bedroom. Matt desperately wants sex, but can he perform under these weird circumstances?

Or Matt & Colleen arrive to find the ex is there with another girl. How does Colleen react? How does Matt react? Is there a big fight? Does the ex want to do a four-way?

Or Matt & Colleen are making out on the couch and then the ex arrives with another girl. Is Colleen mad?  Jealous?  Is there fun in her double-standard attitude?

Or Matt knows the ex.

Or Matt knows the other girl the ex is with.

Or Colleen knows the other girl the ex is with.

Or the other girl is Matt’s sister.

Or the other girl is Matt’s ex-fiancé.

Or something else. You may have a better one.

And then some specifics. What’s the funniest Matt reaction to learning the ex is still in the house? It could be a great “What the fuck” moment. Colleen obviously knows there’s the complication of the ex still living in the place. How does she explain it? How did she think she was going to finesse the situation?

You get the idea.

I would bat around all of these ideas and see which one gave me the absolute most bang for my buck. I’m always imagining the audience and saying to myself, “Would they laugh at that? Would they REALLY laugh at that?” A lot of times I might say, “No. They’d smile, maybe they’d chuckle, but they wouldn’t laugh.” So how can I make it funnier so they would laugh? (Note: I may be wrong in my prediction but at least in my best professional judgment I’m striving for the maximum reaction.) So I would arrive at the scenario that was most promising, would even have a number of sample big laugh moments or jokes and then try to write the best scene I could.

That’s me.  Old veteran me.

LIFE IN PIECES premiered last week on CBS. It has a likable cast and slick look. I wish it well. I missed the debut on the air but caught up with it a few days later ON DEMAND. Since it was on  ON DEMAND, a lot of my remote features didn’t work and I had to watch it straight through. So I only saw this scene once and am describing it by memory (which may be as faulty as my computer ability).

But here was the opening scene:

Matt (Thomas Sadoski from NEWSROOM) and Colleen (Angelique Cabral from ENLISTED) come home from a date. She invites him up to her place. Once there they find her ex-fiancé sitting on the couch. Matt is just kind of frozen. The ex is mildly annoyed. The ex still thinks he has a chance with Colleen. It’s just an awkward moment. And the characters are AWARE they’re in an awkward moment. (Again, this is “me” thinking – this isn’t funny enough. This is really tepid. And I’m also wondering -- do the writers think this is hysterical? Do they think an audience is really in stitches over this? Or do they not even put the scene to that mental test?)

So what does Matt do? Characters need to actively address a situation. Matt does nothing. What does Colleen do? She offers some wine. There’s a little cutesy banter. The ex comments that they’re “bantering.” Everyone in this scene is totally AWARE of the conventions they’re using. It’s like they’re all too cool to have any strong emotions or reactions. The humor has to come from them merely realizing they’re in a potential comic situation. As a result there’s a real distance. And for me the scene loses its comic edge.

The scene ends with them deciding to go to his place instead. The big joke then is that his place is occupied… by his nutty parents. Awk-ward.

Old school, retro Ken believes if you’re doing a comedy you’ve got to own it. Characters finding themselves in awkward comic situations have been a staple for years. We find ourselves in awkward comic situations in our real lives.

They really happen.

But we don’t step back and observe; we ACT. I’m hoping that LIFE IN PIECES succeeds. It’s just the pilot and they’re finding their way. And I present this post as a learning exercise, not a knock on them. It’s a way to illustrate other possibilities. And a lot of you are aspiring writers currently crafting your spec pilots. Think of the audience and ask yourself the hard question. “Is this FUNNY enough?” And if not, no matter what your age or sensibility, or how cool you are, go back and make it funnier. And don’t apologize.

Can greatness be duplicated?

There is a podcast called TomHanksgiving.  Elvis Kunesh and Cody Camp discuss Tom Hanks movies and then recreate scenes (as cheaply as they can).  This week their subject was VOLUNTEERS.  Here is the original scene (about 5:30 in) and then their recreation.  I defy you to tell the difference.



Thanks guys. Maybe you can do the sequel.

Should you keep a joke that only three people in America will get?

Here's a question I'm often asked:  Should you put obscure jokes in your script?  I wrote a post on this almost five years ago so it's time to re-post it.  I mention that upfront because obscure jokes often are very topical and in five years contemporary references become historical ones.  So keep that in mind as you read.  But the points are still valid.  Or at least, I still agree with them. 

Comedy writing legend Jerry Belson once pitched a very obscure joke during a CHEERS rewrite. One of the Charles Brothers said, “Jerry, only three people in America are going to get that” to which Jerry said, “That’s good enough for me!”

A common question that all comedy writers ask from time to time is whether a particular reference is too obscure to get a laugh. The downside of course is that the joke bombs; the good side is that if it works it really works because the reference is so out of leftfield.

On MASH we called them “Three percenters”. We would make mention of an arcane actor from the ‘40s knowing most people would have no idea who he is (or was). But our thinking was this: a) we crammed so many jokes into an episode that if you didn’t get it, another one was coming two seconds later, b) we sprinkled in very few of these, and c) they added to the ambience and helped set the time period (much the same way as vintage wardrobe and hairstyles do).

I notice “Three percenters” from time to time on COMMUNITY. There will be quick pop culture references or lines of dialog from movies slipped in. Not everyone will get them. My sense is the producers know that and don’t care. They’re writing for a very specific audience. But here’s the key: specific but large.

Or at least large enough.  HOT IN CLEVELAND is designed for baby boomers.  TV LAND doesn't expect as large an audience as NBC but they do want a specific demographic.   And if you're 55 and have trouble with COMMUNITY and not get that an episode is spoofing RESERVOIR DOGS, you'll so welcome a show that makes a Twiggy joke.   

As always, it comes down to “know your target audience”. If you’re writing a spec it’s easier with an existing show. By watching astutely you can determine the level of their references. A Charlie Sheen joke might work on 30 ROCK but I wouldn’t do one on MIKE & MOLLY.

But what happens when you’re writing a pilot?  All bets are off.  Now there are no guidelines. Should you do that Sarah Clarke/TWILIGHT gag?   In general I would say this: agents, managers, executives – the people who will be reading your pilot – are by and large in their thirties. I think that gives you a lot of leeway – way more than you had when they were all in their forties and fifties. They probably know who Sarah Clarke is and they certainly know what TWILIGHT is.  So I wouldn’t self-censor yourself too much. Yes, you always run the risk that a reader might not get a reference and feel you’re belittling them (doing a joke that’s over their head), and to load your script with obtuse gags is insane, but comedy is about taking chances. So go for it. Maybe Jerry Belson was right. If the three people that get the joke are agents you’re submitting to, that is good enough for you.

Friday Questions

Friday Questions back on Friday.

Peter asks:

Horror is one of my favorite genres but I've noticed you almost never mention horror. Are they just not your thing or are there some horror films you like?

No. Never liked horror films. There’s enough real horrors to be scared about like politics.

At first, as a kid, I thought they were fun. Frankenstein and Dracula and Vincent Price in spooky haunted houses.

Then one day at a Saturday matinee I saw a sci-fi/horror film called THE 27th DAY. It was one of those black-and-white cheesy B-movies that were popular in Drive-Ins back then. Who knows if it’s even available these days? I remember it starred Gene Barry and there was an alien from outer space and that film scared the living shit out me. I couldn’t sleep for a week.

Maybe forty years later I saw it on the Late Show and could almost tell you what scene was next and what was going to happen next – it had left that much of an indelible impression on me.

Seeing it again, I finally understood what terrified me. The film was a metaphor for the Cold War and the US and Russia were squaring off to destroy the whole world. A blood sucking vampire who over acted and spoke with a funny foreign accent did not keep me up at night. The threat of being dead myself at any moment did.

Never liked horror films since. I should probably seek therapy, huh?

James wonders:

Have you ever written a script that you would have hated to direct?

The “Point of View” episode of MASH. That’s the one where the 4077th is seen through the eyes of a patient. I talked about it in a recent post.  As proud as I am of that episode I can never mention it without heaping enormous praise on director, Charles Dubin (pictured: right)

Adding to the difficulty of creating this first-person look and getting remarkable performances out of actors not used to talking directly into the camera, Dubin was severely hampered by the bulkiness of the equipment. It’s not like today where you can literally shoot a movie with your iPhone. The cameras were big and heavy and not easily maneuvered.

Oh, and the whole show was shot in only four days.

We owe the success of that episode to Charles Dubin and the fact that I did not direct it.

Here’s a sugar free question from Splenda:

Lets say that a network greenlit a remake of Almost Perfect, under the condition that you use all new actors (can't bring back Nancy Travis, etc.). Who do you cast (assuming they are available and interested)?

Jason Dechert and Jules Willcox who starred in my play, A OR B? at the Falcon Theatre last year.

jcs queries:

You have mentioned many times that being a TV writer requires putting in long hours, sometimes until dawn. Is it possible to have some kind of semi-normal family life when working in such a profession?

Absolutely. But it takes organization, preparation, the willingness to make decisions, and not having a showrunner who is going through a divorce and would rather spend his nights in the office than alone at the Oakwood Gardens Apartments.

Time management is the key. Even on a multi-camera show it is possible to go home at 6:00 or 7:00 and still turn out an excellent product. EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND writers were almost always home for dinner.

On the other hand, there are some truly dreadful shows where the writers worked around the clock. And for what?

But if you have a showrunner who keeps changing his mind, or takes forever to decide which new line to add, or just has nowhere else to go because he’s got an unhappy home life, you could be checked into the Hotel California.

You want a happily married showrunner or one who has Lakers season tickets.

From Jeff :)

I have a baseball question Ken. Who is your favorite player both currently and of all time. Also, your pick to win the World Series for this year?

All-time: Sandy Koufax. All-time that I had the pleasure of working with: Tony Gwynn. Currently: A. J. Ellis (he used to actually listen to Dodger Talk when I hosted it.)

Who will win the World Series? Whoever is not favored.  Or whoever I pick. 

How BLINDSPOT got on the air

I have obtained the transcription from the NBC pitch meeting for BLINDSPOT:

WRITER/CREATOR: We got this totally cool idea. It’s like a mix between the Bourne movies, PRISON BREAK, MEMENTO, the old game show CAMOUFLAGE, and what shows do you like?

NBC: BLACKLIST.

W/C: It’s also like BLACKLIST.

NBC: We’ve been looking for another BLACKLIST. And another HEROES.

W/C: Ours is that too.

NBC: That’s okay. We’re remaking HEROES.

W/C: Well, if you ever want to remake THE BIONIC WOMAN ours is also like that show.

NBC: THE BIONIC WOMAN was a bomb.

W/C: Wait. I forgot. We took out THE BIONIC WOMAN elements.

NBC: So what’s the series?

W/C: Well, we don’t actually have a concept yet – what’s it about, what happens every week, who all the characters are – we still need to tackle those details.

NBC: So what are you bringing us?

W/C: An opening scene.

NBC: An opening scene? That’s it?

W/C: Yep. Something with sizzle that you can promote all summer. Who cares if it has legs?

NBC: Well, like I said, we’re looking for another BLACKLIST. And that’s BLACKLIST. We’re sort of hoping they’ll figure something out this season.  What’s your first scene?

W/C: We’re in Times Square. It’s night. Crowded. And someone discovers a duffel bag. Just sitting in the street. And it has a tag that says CALL THE FBI.

NBC: Wouldn’t they call the FBI anyway?

W/C: You know that. And I know that. But NBC’s audience doesn’t know that.

NBC: You think they’re that dense?

W/C: BLACKLIST.

NBC: Good point. Go on.

W/C: So what’s in the bag? A bomb? Dirty laundry? No. It’s a hot girl.

NBC: Wouldn’t she suffocate in the bag?

W/C: What? There are air holes.

NBC: But then couldn’t someone see what was inside?

W/C: Small holes. Tiny holes.

NBC: Who is she?

W/C: We don’t know.

NBC: I assume the audience doesn’t know but who is she?

W/C: We don’t know either.

NBC: Who put her in there?

W/C: No idea.

NBC: And why?

W/C: Couldn’t tell you.

NBC: Gee, you’ve really thought this thing through.

W/C: Easy fixes. But wait – she is covered in tattoos.

NBC: Oh, so we could do product placement. I’m starting to like this.

W/C: No. They’re all clues.

NBC: To what?

W/C: We still have to figure that out.

NBC: So then what happens?

W/C: The girl comes out of the bag.

NBC: How?

W/C: She upzips the bag and slithers out.

NBC: What duffel bag upzips from the inside? Why would they ever make that?

W/C: Uh… it’s a custom bag. They want her to open it.

NBC: Who does?

W/C: We don’t know.

NBC: Can she even see the zipper if it’s on the inside?

W/C: Yes. There’s a tiny light. So she comes out of the bag. And on her back is the name of an FBI agent. So they bring him in on the case. We do a scene where he’s breaking up a hostage situation in Kentucky and a helicopter arrives to take him to Manhattan.

NBC: Why do you need a helicopter? Can’t they just call him?

W/C: We don’t know.

NBC: And they’re calling him to do what?

W/C: Again, don’t know.

NBC: So who is this FBI agent?

W/C: Sorry, can’t help you.

NBC: Could he be like RAY DONOVAN? We’re also looking to do something like that.

W/C: Yes. Exactly. How about this for a character profile?  A knock off Liev Schreiber.

NBC: Okay. I totally see that character.  Brooding.  Charmless. But I’m still hazy on the girl.

W/C: So is she. She has no memory.

NBC: How’d that happen? And please, don’t say you don’t know. Just make something up if you have to.

W/C: She was given this drug that wipes out your past memory.

NBC: Does such a drug exist?

W/C: Maybe.

NBC: Okay. She has no memory. Then how does she function?

W/C: Oh, she can speak foreign languages and is an expert in martial arts.

NBC: What?

W/C: This drug is selective based on what we need for future episodes.

NBC: Which you haven’t thought of yet.

W/C: Right.

NBC: So what happens in the pilot after that first scene? What’s the plot?

W/C: We could go procedural, we could go action-adventure, espionage, the door is even open to sci-fi if you like.

NBC: I have to tell you – this is a mess. What you have here is the first scene of a movie, maybe. But a long-running television show? It’s downright insulting that you seriously think we would buy something so half-baked.

W/C: Wait. One more thing: the girl is naked.

NBC: What?

W/C: She’s incredibly hot. Someone like Jaimie Alexander. And when she comes out of the bag she’s completely naked.

NBC: So you think we’d spend five million dollars on a pilot just because there’s one nude scene?

W/C: No. Don’t be ridiculous. There are several nude scenes. When she’s alone in her room she stares at herself in the mirror, naked. She goes into a fetal position, naked. When they photograph her, she’s naked. And then we have all these photos the FBI will post – of her naked.

NBC: Forget the pilot. Go right to series.

Telling broadcasters to shut up

This is a broadcasting story and amusing anecdote, not a baseball story – although it involves broadcasting baseball. Does that make sense?  (It is also dedicated to the passing of Yogi Berra.  Number 8 will always be number one.)

Broadcast conditions for minor league announcers are rarely ideal. Especially in older stadiums. You’re in a little shack up on the roof, often in tin afterthoughts. You’re trying to call a game during a lightening storm in a metal box surrounded by electronic equipment. Or a tornado.  Or blizzard.  Or swarm of bees.  Or fireworks night when the guy has bad aim. 

Sometimes you have no roof at all so good luck in the rain. And blazing sun. 

On the other hand, at the old Toledo stadium we were completely enclosed in Plexiglas. On the air it sounded like we were in an echo chamber. And if the air conditioning stopped working, we were in a George Foreman grill.

At old Sec Taylor Stadium in Des Moines, whenever a home team player hit a home run a deafening siren would blast. You could hear it all the way to Ottumwa. The speaker was right underneath the visiting broadcasters. Every time a ball sailed over the fence it practically knocked us out of the booth. My ears are still ringing and this was 1988.

That same year I was broadcasting Syracuse Chiefs games with Dan Hoard. We went into Denver to play the dreaded Zephyrs. Most minor league parks are intimate and seat maybe 10,000. That’s one of the beauties of going to minor league games – the intimacy; you’re close to the players and close to the action. The Zephyrs played in Mile High Stadium, which sat 70 or 80 or 150,000 (I forget which). Even if attendance was 15,000, which normally would mean S.R.O., it looked like maybe six people were there scattered about.

They had no dedicated baseball pressbox per se. They just converted a few of the luxury suites behind the home plate area. At first I thought, “this is great!” The booth was roomy. We had a counter, good view, air conditioning, running distance to a bathroom. The only quirk was that there were two rows of seats behind us accommodating maybe fifteen spectators.

We thought nothing of it until people started filing into our booth. Apparently those were paid seats. Okay. A little weird – I’m not used to calling games with a studio audience -- but what the hell?

The game begins, we call the action, and we can hear in the background people telling us to shut up. At the half inning mark we turned back to them and said, “Hey, we’re broadcasting here!” They said, “We don’t care. We paid primo money for these seats and we don’t want to hear two idiots announcing all night.”

We had to go to one of the team executives to straighten things out. I think they moved them.  It's not like there were no other seats.  There was room in the dugouts. 

The next night the seats in our booth were sold again, but this was a good crowd. They enjoyed our broadcast and even offered to buy us some beers. We graciously declined, explaining how we only drank beer before games.

I thought things would improve drastically when I got to the majors, and they did – mostly. Spring Training facilities in the ‘90s were not as spiffy as they are today. The Angels still played in an old ballpark in Palm Springs. There were only two broadcast booths and if the Angels were televising as well as doing radio then the visiting broadcasters were put into the stands.

A counter was set up in one of the back rows. My first year with Seattle we had to do a game from that location. I sat on the aisle, Kevin the engineer to my left, and to his left was my partner, the great Dave Niehaus. If anyone stood up in front of us we were screwed.

I’m on the air, it’s the seventh inning, I feel a tapping on my shoulder. It’s a vendor with malts. Would I pass them down the row to the skeesix ten seats over? I did, while calling the game. Suddenly there is a big play. Runners scampering around the bases, the ball going every which way. Kevin hands me the money for the malt that had been passed from hand to hand. I give it to the vendor, all the while continuing to call this goofy play.  I feel another tap. The vendor.  Would I pass the change back? This on a fifty station radio network.

But I don’t feel bad. Vin Scully of the Dodgers recalls that when the team first moved out west with the Giants in 1958, the Giants played at a minor league park, Seal Stadium.  Scully and his partner, Jerry Doggett, were banished to broadcast from the stands like us. Even in those early days, Giant fans hated anything Dodgers. Scully had to do live commercials between innings for some beer. For the rest of the game fans around him were shouting the names of competing beer brands while he was doing the play-by-play.   All of this got on the air.  

Hey, maybe I should put a few rows of seats in my office and charge people to watch me write. “Shut up! We can’t sleep with that incessant keyboard clacking!”

Emmy After thoughts

Since I was not invited to any Emmy After Parties...

I always write my reviews immediately after the show. Several reasons: Post it while it’s hot. By Wednesday everyone will forget the Emmys even occurred (except for those who lost – they’ll be bitter until Friday). Also, by posting early no one can accuse me of stealing someone else's material. And face it, how many two-headed Sarah Paulson jokes are there out there?

I never read any other reviews until I’ve posted mine. I don’t want to be influenced by them (not that the Hollywood Reporter is going to change my opinion about anything). So much to my surprise when I did check out the critical reaction this morning, most TV critics loved Andy Samberg. I don’t know what show they were watching, but ohhhh-kay. I decided to re-screen the opening monologue. Maybe I missed something. Maybe I was too harsh.

Nope. It was terrible.

This is the second time in two weeks I’ve disagreed with the critics. I was underwhelmed by the first Colbert late night talk show and many of them raved as if he was Jesus Christ Himself or Jon Stewart. I stand by my stands, but now worry – I’m really looking forward to SUPERGIRL. What if they love it? Will I be switching over to MNF by the first commercial? It’s gotten good buzz, which concerns me. But there is also some pushback because it’s SuperGIRL and not SuperWOMAN or SuperOPRAH  So there’s a chance, and I've got to take it.

Believe it or not, I go into these award show reviews hoping I will love them. And sometimes I do. Tina Fey & Amy Poehler’s hosting of the Golden Globes was a delight. It is possible to deliver a killer monologue. Award shows aren’t required to have Seth MacFarlane or Heidi Klum host. What’s more thrilling than sharing in someone’s ultimate moment of triumph and getting swept up in their genuine emotion?  All all before the play-off music. 

Remember, if you hate the show you can always switch to SNF, but since I’m reviewing them I have to stick it out till the bitter end. I would much rather be entertained than tortured. Unfortunately, the latter is true more often than not. And by the way, if you ever do attend a Primetime Emmys ceremony you’ll notice that by hour two half the industry is in the lobby.  Attendees don't like the show either.  Trust me, the OLIVE KITTRIDGE winners were giving their acceptance speeches to seat fillers. (Hey, here’s an idea: let TV critics be seat fillers. They’re the only ones who seem to like the show anyway.)

Yes, bad shows are easier targets. And they generally lead to funnier recaps. But I personally, would be happier to report that I loved the show. And even in reviews that are pans I still try to be fair and point out things I thought worked or moved me.

Some readers thought I was too snarky. Um, I’m always too snarky. As the great Larry Gelbart used to say, “If you write something that offends no one go back and do it over.” Like I said, I try to be fair, but come on people, this is a HUMOR blog. I’m trying to provide laughs here. And perhaps an observation or two that you hadn’t thought of.

If I’m not entirely politically correct, that’s by choice. I warned you in the first line of my review that snark was on the way. You were welcome to click over to the recap of SNF.

I mean, let’s get real. Whenever there is an Emmy or Oscar party, what do people do the entire night? Of course! Make ass fun of every dress, scream at winners to get the hell off already, and generally take potshots at any actor who uses the words “genius,” “journey,” “courage,” or “management team.”

You don't even have to go to a party anymore.  You can just sit home and live tweet. 

This year’s Emmy broadcast received the lowest ratings in the show’s history. Whoever produces the show next year, please make it better. Nothing would tickle me more than to write how much I loved it, and don’t worry that I won’t have enough funny stuff to write. There’s always the KTLA Red Carpet show.

My 2015 Emmy Review

Time for my annual snarky Emmycast review.

Last night’s show was not as bad as the year the five reality hosts presided over the Emmys (asking Heidi Klum to do comedy is like asking your dog to program your DVR), but it wasn’t as good as the SAG strike year when local KNBC news anchor Kelly Lange emceed the show.

I like Andy Samberg but thought his monologue was painful. After every horrifying feces, Bill Cosby, and Kim Davis joke they’d cut to someone in the audience totally bewildered. Why Andy Samberg? Because the Emmys were on Fox. That’s the biggest star on the network? No, but Harold Reynolds was busy.

Samberg began with a clichéd song-and-dance routine that only made us long for Neil Patrick Harris or the cruise director from Carnival.

For me, the only truly moving moments of the evening were the appearance of Tracy Morgan and Kerry Washington’s metal mesh dress. (which she cleans by going through a car wash)

GAME OF THRONES won Best Drama. Clearly, the Academy is tired of honoring Matthew Weiner.

He was certainly snubbed. Even when Jon Hamm finally won for Best Actor Other Than Bryan Cranston, he did not thank Weiner. Instead he thanked anyone who gave him a home cooked meal.

Happy that VEEP won for several reasons. First of all it’s an actual comedy. TRANSPARENT is a lovely show but it is not a comedy. Nor is it even that original. ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT did the exact same storyline last season with the exact same star. And it was funny.

And if the Academy was going to give the Best Comedy award to a family show I would have picked THE MIDDLE. Or FRESH OFF THE BOAT. Or BLACKISH.

For the most part I was pleased with the results. No one I hate won. Viola Davis gave a moving speech (and I love how fellow nominee and next year’s winner Taraji P. Henson gave her a standing O), Julia Louis-Dreyfus is a comedy goddess, and the Academy loves Allison Janney so much they give her Emmys even knowing she’ll thank Chuck Lorre.

Jeffrey Tambor was a lock. He was great in TRANSPARENT and this might have been a make-good for not giving it to him for playing the same role on ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT.

Before the show, I always catch the KTLA Red Carpet show hosted by fawning floormat Sam Rubin and rocket scientist, Jessica Holmes. Holmes is eleven months pregnant (“who are you bearing?”), but considering how shocked she always is at anything any celebrity says, I’m guessing she just found out about her pregnancy last Friday.

She opened the broadcast by saying: “The stars are getting here early, which is really interesting because you never know!”  Two seconds in and already I'm laughing.

The big red carpet story was the heat. The stars had to walk from their air conditioned limos, under a shaded canopy, to an air conditioned auditorium. Based on Sam & Jessica’s concern, you’d think Edie Falco had just crossed the Sahara.

Jessica mentioned to DOWNTON ABBEY creator, Julian Fellowes that Queen Elizabeth liked to pick out inaccuracies in his show. He hadn’t heard that. Jessica said it was in PEOPLE magazine, to which Mr. Fellows responded: “Oh, wellllll.”

Sam was interviewing Ariel Winter and Anthony Anderson. He said to Ariel (who is 17) “You’ve been through this a million times. Tell Anthony (who’s had a 20 year career) how to deal with it.”

Sam asked Alan Cumming to handicap his nomination. Cumming said, “I think Jonathan Banks is going to win, don’t you?” Sam responded: “He’s terrific in that show.” Way to make the guest feel good.

And finally, MAD MEN’S Kiernan Shipka said she was six when the show began and now she’s sixteen. Mother-to-be Jessica wisely stated, “There’s a lot of growing in those years.” Please write a book on parenting, Jessica.

Meanwhile, Fox’s red carpet show was hosted by football analyst, Terry Bradshaw (the network’s second biggest star). Sorry I missed that. I bet his question to every actor was, “Who are you again?”

Hollywood cares. It’s always championing some worthy humanitarian cause. They do this by wearing ribbons at award shows. This year, lots of stars were wearing green ribbons. These were in support of Jill Soloway negotiating a better overall deal.

The set looked like the casino of Circus Circus only not as tasteful.

Lea DeLaria came dressed as Drew Carey.

Who better than Lady Gaga to present a Best Actor award?

How come EMPIRE wasn’t nominated for Best Drama? Oh, that’s right. People actually WATCH it.

Did you notice the winning writers for VEEP were all middle-aged? Enjoy your Emmys, fellas. You’ll never get another job.

Congrats to Regina King. I thought Sarah Paulson was going to win but I think her two heads canceled each other out.

Emma Roberts wore a white dress that had more color than her skin.

“In Memoriam” gets tougher for me every year as more and more of my peers and friends pass. This year my mentor, Gary Owens, friend Taylor Negron, and dear friend and colleague Sam Simon were among the many who left us too soon.

I thought there would be more of a tribute to David Letterman. He got lumped into the “Not Returning Shows” montage (“In Memoriam 2”) and received as much airtime as COUGAR TOWN. And somehow they omitted 19 KIDS AND COUNTING.

The key word this year was “genius.” Everybody was a “genius.” With all these “geniuses” how come shows now get a 1 share? 

Seeing Jon Stewart, I miss him all over again. Oh, how I wish it was Ricky Gervais and not Jon Stewart who said, “You’ll never see me again.”

Wouldn’t you love just once to see an actor fire his agent during his acceptance speech? “You told me OLIVE KITTRIDGE was a piece of crap. I should take BAD JUDGE. Thank God I didn’t listen to you.”

Sophie Turner wore a blue top and black slacks, perfect for formal occasions or selling cars at Jim Falk Lexus.

My daughter’s writing partner, Jonathan Emerson tossed in some observations. He noted that ORANGE IS THE NEW BLACK is the first series to lose as Best Comedy and Best Drama.

Amy Schumer is in. Louis C.K. is out. Lena Dunham is a trivia answer.

Claire Danes came as the Phantom. 

Amy Schumer looked like a fullback. Hopefully it was just the dress.

How upset do you think Jane Fonda was when co-star Lily Tomlin lost?

So Alex Trebek sits down after a hard day to relax and watch the Emmy Awards, and BAM! Out of nowhere John Oliver takes gratuitous shots at him. Don’t be surprised if one of Monday’s JEOPARDY categories is “Smug British Talk Show Hosts Who Can Kiss My Ass.”

But Alex couldn’t have been any more uncomfortable than I was suffering through those lame bits like Tatiana Maslany eating beans on the red carpet, Lorne Michaels getting a “World’s Best Boss” mug, and Samberg’s MAD MEN parody.  It all felt like filler.  This is the level of comedy you find in prison skits.

The only winner who swore and had to be bleeped was a writer. Thanks GAME OF THRONES guy. You represent us all so well.

Zoe Kazan looked like a melted candy cane.

Actors often give afterthought tributes to their fellow nominees. But Peter Dinklage is the first to insult most of them. He acknowledged “Jonathan Banks… and the rest.” Nice.

Glad to see Mel Brooks got a standing ovation. Jon Emerson wondered how many in the audience pretended to know who he is? Since he was presenting one of the major awards of the night, I wondered why Lady Gaga didn’t have the honor?

Congratulations to all the winners. Your screeners had the biggest effect.

And finally -- aren’t the Emmys supposed to be classy? Isn’t this a night to celebrate excellence in television? To showcase those individuals and shows that rise above the fray and make the industry proud? Instead, we have the Emmy host doing a motorboarding joke on a replica of the statuette itself. Yeah, we’re all “geniuses” in television.

Emmy flashbacks

I’ll be reviewing tonight’s Emmy Awards. Check back tomorrow. But to get you in the mood, here are a few snarky inappropriate highlights from past Emmy reviews. Enjoy.

Note to Jeff Daniels and a lot of actors last night: ease up on the spray tan. There’s something wrong when Jeff Daniels is darker than Mindy Kaling.

Elton John, who has nothing to do with television, did a tribute to Liberace. I forget the title. “Candelabra in the Wind” I think.

The WHITNEY Emmy screener makes a really nifty coaster.

The Academy sent out a pretty clear message. Louis C.K. – not yet. Lena Dunham – not happening. Chuck Lorre – never.

What does it say when Bill Maher is now 0-32 and most Emmy voters are Democrats?

If Zosia Mamet’s dress was the result of another Kickstarter campaign she must’ve only raised eleven dollars.

GAME CHANGE won so Hollywood finally voted for Sarah Palin.

Kevin Costner won for playing a cowboy, which is what he should be playing. His days of portraying a baseball player are over unless they do a screen version of CHEERS and hire him as the Coach.

Christine Baranski, in a gold plated gown, looked like C-3PO caught cross-dressing.

Producer Mark Burnett has said that the “In Memoriam” segment doesn’t have to be such a downer. Really??? To that end, the song under the clips was “Where Dem Girls At”.

Six winners told their kids to go to bed. Five thanked Jesus. One told Jesus to go to bed.

Gray ribbons this year as Hollywood rallies to provide relief to the hurricane victims in the Hamptons whose guest homes and tennis courts sustained water damage.

Kate Winslet and Martin Scorsese won Emmys for having already won Oscars. When you win an Academy Award they should just throw an Emmy in the swag bag.

At least one Red Carpet interviewer asked Margo Martindale if she was coming back next year on JUSTIFIED (note: her character was killed) and another said how much she loved Margo's dad, Wink. Still another was hoping the "real" Mildred Pierce would be there for the ceremony.

What was that hideous song Jewel sang? I hate to say it but it really brought down the “In Memoriam” section.

For the first time ever the Emmys were shown live in Los Angeles. NBC recognized they were up against very stiff competition this year -- the Chabad Telethon.

Al Pacino’s won a million awards and his speech was like your uncle Lou’s just before the paramedics came.

Did you notice that not one winner all night, any category, thanked a network or studio for notes?

When Jessica Lange was thanking everyone in the world I was hoping for a promo crawl underneath her to say, “Jessica Lange speech over in 8 minutes.”

Letting Heidi Klum do comedy is like giving a squirrel a grenade.

Anyone who says Jewish girls don’t know how to dress didn’t see Sarah Silverman tonight in her Catholic Girl’s uniform.

Check out these amazing singers

A little musical post for you today.  The group is Cubanos Acapella, the song is Hotel California (played to death on oldies stations), and wait'll you see what the guy in the red shirt does.  There must be some reality show these guys could win?

Friday Questions

So what’s yours?  I answer as many as I can. 

Richard starts us off this week:

While many sit-coms are entertaining with their yuck-yucks, some go above and beyond. Both MASH and Scrubs come to mind as shows that bring death into the mix and let things get real.

My question is, how does a writer's room decide to put the hammer down for such an episode? Having a half-hour of in-law jokes is an ocean away from having someone pass away.

The in-law jokes may get ratings, but the death episodes (not to get too dark) are the ones I remember years down the road.

The key to doing dramatic scenes is that you have to earn them. A tone of reality must be established. Otherwise, the dramatic moment seems jarring and false.

Same for sentimental and emotional moments. WILL & GRACE was a terrible offender of this. 20 minutes of burlesque jokes (many very funny) but then suddenly a big sappy moment that came out of nowhere and always felt bogus.

Shows need to be grounded in enough reality to have the audience believe dramatic moments are possible in that world. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t do a totally silly show, or establish that the biggest crisis your characters ever face is not getting laid and then deal with genuine grief or heartache.

From Steve B.:

Ken, what are the right and wrong ways to give notes to friends on their scripts? Are you ever concerned about being too easy or critical on them? Conversely, what are the rules to accepting notes from friends?

First off, don’t ask me to critique your script if you don’t want me to be honest. If you’re just looking for someone to tell you how brilliant you are, have your mom read your script. I'm doing you no favors by saying your script is great and you go out with it and get rejected all over town. 

When I give notes the first thing I do is point out the things I liked, the areas I thought they did well.   Believe me, when I read someone's script I want to love it.  It's so much easier giving good news.

Next, when I point out problems, I try to explain why I thought they were problematic and if possible offer alternatives or suggestions. Just saying you don’t like something doesn’t do anyone any good.

I try to be as diplomatic as possible and yes, sometimes it’s tough if I really thought the script sucked.

If I start giving notes and the person is defensive, after this happens two or three times I just stop and say, “Well, good luck with it” and that’s it.

I have a small group of writer friends who I really trust, and whenever I write a screenplay or play on spec I always give it to them. And they, in turn, give me work they’ve written on spec.

I value their judgment and appreciate their honesty. I don’t always take their suggestions but I always give them serious consideration. And conversely, when they like something I know they’re not just blowing smoke up my ass.

For my play A OR B? I threw out the entire second act based on a reader’s reaction. And she was right.

As the writer you have to be willing to at least be open to criticism and re-writing. As the person giving notes, you want to frame them in such a way that the writer will be excited about going back in and making his script better.

Cap'n Bob asks:

There was a show called ROLL OUT, starring Stu Gilliam, "from the producers of M*A*S*H." It was about a group of black soldiers in WWII. Did you have anything to do with it? Not the war, the show.

No. That was before my time. Gene Reynolds and Larry Gelbart were the creative team behind that. You never see those episodes pop up anywhere and I’d really like to. Any show written by Larry Gelbart commands my attention.

And finally, as the baseball regular season winds down, Liggie has a FQ.

The minor leagues have instituted a "pitch clock", where the pitcher has 20 seconds within receiving the ball to set for the pitch. If he's not in the set position in that time, it's an automatic ball. Yea or nay on this concept?

Yea on any restriction that will speed up the game. Eliminate bullshit walk-up music too.

But if MLB was really serious about speeding up the game they could do it in one rule change. Cut out a minute from each inning break. Instead of 2:30 or more of commercials only allow 1:30. Teams could charge more for the commercials and easily make up the difference. And advertisers would be happy because their message won’t just be buried in a long spot break. Bam! You shorten every game by eighteen minutes. Most games would then finish in under three hours.

But will MLB institute that change? What do you think?