There are very few character traits that are always likable, without feeling overdone or manipulative. Sure you can give your hero a three-legged dog, but that would be too blatantly pulling on our emotions. It’s even worse when you want to make your hero seem cool and relaxed. Should he high-five a lot and call everybody dude? Give everybody nicknames? Play jazz piano?
But I’ve found in my own writing that there’s one trick that always works: Have your hero amuse kids by talking to them as if they were adults. School of Rock got a whole movie out of this trick, but the “Master of None” pilot shows a charming smaller-scale version. Dev runs into an old friend, Amanda, and her two little kids, Grant and Lila.
Dev: Ah! Hey, Amanda. What's up?
Amanda: Hey, Dev. Hi.
Dev: Hey, what's up, guys? Lila, what's going on? How are you? I heard you got married recently. How come I didn't get invited to the wedding?
Lila: [not sure if he’s kidding] I didn't get married!
Dev: That's not what I heard. I heard you have a husband. It was a small ceremony, just family and friends. Fine, whatever. I get it.
Lila: [amused but exasperated] I'm not married!
Dev: Okay, well, I guess I'll just keep that blender for myself, then. Grant, what's up, man?
Grant: Farts!
Dev: [laughs, tries again] All right, well, that's cool. Um, you want to arm wrestle?
Grant: Sure.
Dev: All right. [arm wrestles, pretends to lose] Oh, God. Oh, my arm! Ooh!
Grant: [laughing] You're so weak!
Amanda: All right, you guys. Why don't you get some snacks?
Of course, a scene like this cuts two ways: It shows that Dev is mature enough to be relaxed around his friend’s kids, but it also speaks to his own childishness. The rest of the episode will force Dev to choose between his responsible and irresponsible instincts. This moment is not only strong characterization, it ensures that we will adore Dev, and that’s essential for any type of writer, but especially sitcom writers.
Taking care of someone else’s kids is always a strong comedic premise, so much so that “Louie” has used it three times, so it’s natural to start this show by following in those illustrious shoes.
But this show is a little more traditional than “Louie”, because Aziz Ansari’s comedy is more mainstream than Louie C.K’s. This will be a less abrasive show. In other words, it will have more learning and growing. But that’s tricky: How do you avoid the “Modern Family” problem, in which the characters end the sitcom by sitting down and telling us explicitly what this week’s theme was and what they’ve learned? How do you show that our hero has thought about everything he’s seen and learned a little bit about himself, without spelling it out ?
This show has a brilliant ending that quietly and humorously accomplishes this:
Dev has dropped the kids back off with their mom when another friend brings over gourmet sandwiches. Just as they’re about to dig in, the kids come in the room: They’ve made their own sandwiches for everyone (peanut butter, lettuce and ketchup) and eagerly want everyone to eat them. Their loving mom announces that she’s going to eat their sandwich instead. Dev is clearly moved by the kids’ gesture of love, but decides to eat the gourmet sandwich instead, then tries to eat the mom’s gourmet sandwich as well, if she’s not going to touch it. Cut to credits.
This works for many reasons:
It’s funny.
It’s something most of us have experienced, but for whatever reason we haven’t seen a lot of onscreen before. These are the sorts of moment you desperately need to find. It reminded me of real situations I’ve been in with both my own and other people’s kids, rather than other sitcom situations.
It’s a genuinely painful dilemma! On the one hand, how could he say no to those adorable open-hearted kids, on the other hand, how could he eat that disgusting sandwich instead of the delicious-looking one?
So we have learning and growing (or maybe shrinking) with no hugging or heartfelt declarations. Using the power of objects, kids are transmuted into sandwiches, allowing him to reject one by rejecting the other, and delivering an ending that’s funny and light instead of serious and leaden.
Let’s talk about a type of comedy scene that almost always works: a scene where our hero is comically tone deaf. Before this scene, at his kid’s first birthday party, Grant had told Dev how great it was to have a kid, but now that Dev has returned to his house after the party, and asked to use the restroom, he gets a different story:
Man, I was just watching those guys for, like, an hour, and I'm destroyed. You had a kid for a year. How do you do it? What's your secret?
My secret is, I'm getting a divorce.
What? Are you serious?
We've just been dealing with some issues lately. We tried to figure it out. I don't think it's gonna work.
I thought everything was going really well. What about all that stuff you said earlier?
Oh, come on, man. That's bullshit you say at a party. What am I supposed to say? I don't sleep. I haven't fucked in a year. I never see my friends. I hate my wife. God.
Yeah, I guess that's not really good party... What's the word? Party... fodder.
Fodder, yeah. It's tough, man. We'd only been dating six months. Brenda got pregnant, and we really thought we could pull it off. It started off okay, but then things got a little rocky. It was just too soon. And then you throw a kid in the mix... And Zach's awesome. We couldn't love him any more, but it just wasn't enough to keep us together. Anyway, here's the bathroom.
All right. [sighs] Man, it smells really nice in there. You got to hit me with the deets on that candle. [Off his depressed look] Sorry.
[Sighs, but must admit:] It is a great candle.
Like most recent comedy heroes, Dev is a combination of laugh-with and laugh-at, and this scene is clearly the latter. We like comedy heroes with strong characterization, so it’s funny to show them sticking to their characterization even in situations where it’s inappropriate for them to do so.
This show never tips over into “cringe comedy”, but it does go far enough to be “wince comedy”. We get exasperated with Dev in a minor and pleasant way: he’s adorable because of irrepressible flaws, such as his tone-deafness.
A scene like this also allows the show to get serious, deepening and enriching the theme, but also undercuts that seriousness with persistent comedy. Just as Dev is impervious to the seriousness of the situation, so too is the episode able to take a few hits to its jocular tone and still stay afloat, which allows it to have it both ways.
“Master of None” scored a miserable 12 our of 20 on the Concept section of our checklist, so let’s look at the 8 questions it neglects:
There’s no central relationship we’ve not seen before.
There no ironic contradiction yet in the pilot.
The show is not set in an unsafe space.
The show doesn’t bring different economic classes together (or ever acknowledge economics)
Trouble won’t walk in the door on a regular basis.
There’s not much physical activity in Dev’s life.
No easily-promotable image.
No escalation at the end.
So is any of this a problem? If this was a network show with unknown leads, it definitely would be, but the show coasts into our living rooms based on the strength on the goodwill we already have for Ansari and Netflix. Both Ansari and Netflix are laid-back brands, and they’ve both proven that they know how to make that work, so we’re ready to try a low-concept show that’s not easy to pitch.
It is notable, however, that very frequently people recommending this show to others suggested skipping the pilot and starting with the second episode (which just won an Emmy). What’s different about the second episode? It deepens and enriches Dev and adds an ironic element to his life, as we meet his long-suffering parents whose lives are in such stark contrast to Dev’s. They went through so much to get this life for him and yet he wastes most of his time and energy on trivial and superficial things. Although the parents only appeared in three episodes, their lingering presence makes Dev’s life more meaningful and compelling to us. We like ironic backstories.
The Dev we get in the pilot is appealing, but untethered and lightweight. We need something to tug down on that kite string a little bit.
This show just won the Emmy for comedy writing, so let’s check it out...
Wise-cracking Dev is an actor in New York City, where he hangs out with his big jerky friend Arnold and his cool lesbian friend Denise. He has a one-night stand in the pilot with Rachel (who will return to be his love interest for the series) with a broken-condom scare, then he goes to a kid’s birthday party thrown by his friend Grant, who seems happy with kids, then agrees to watch the kids of his friend Amanda. The kids run Dev ragged and almost get him arrested at a grocery store. Then he returns to Grant’s house and finds out he’s actually getting divorced. Dev returns Amanda’s kids and refuses a sandwich they made him in preference of a gourmet sandwich, symbolizing his rejection of kids.
PART 1: IS
THIS A STRONG CONCEPT FOR AN ONGOING SERIES? (12/20)
The Pitch: Does this concept excite everyone who
hears about it?
Does the concept satisfy the
urges that get people to love and recommend this type of series?
Yes,
it’s very funny.
Does
the series establish its own unique point of view on its setting?
Yes, each episode will have its own title and be a
series of reflections on that theme.
Is
there a central relationship we haven’t seen in a series before?
Not really.A
single dude and his friends in the big city. What makes it novel, of course, is that our hero is
south-Asian, but nobody talks about that in the pilot, so it doesn’t really
count.
Does
the ongoing concept of the series contain a fundamental (and possibly fun)
ironic contradiction?
Not really in the pilot.In the second episode we get to know the show’s central
irony: Dev’s parents went through much suffering to get him a blessed life,
but he’s turned it into something superficial and trivial.
Does
the concept meet the content expectations of one particular intended network,
venue, or audience?
The streaming sitcom is still a very new form, but
this certainly doesn’t break the mold that’s forming.
Even
if the setting is unpleasant, is there something about this premise that is
inherently appealing? (Something that will make the audience say, “Yes, I
will be able to root for some
aspect of this situation to recur episode after episode.”)
Dev is funny.His life is appealing.
Series Fundamentals: Will this concept generate a
strong ongoing series?
Is
there one character (or sometimes two, in separate storylines) that the
audience will choose to be their primary hero (although these heroes should
probably be surrounded by an ensemble that can more than hold their own)?
Dev
If this
is a TV series, is the hero role strong enough to get an actor to abandon a
movie career, come to work in TV for the first time, and sign a five-year
contract before shooting the pilot? (And even if not for TV, is the hero role
still that strong, simply for narrative purposes?)
NA: Ansari created the role for himself, so of
course he took it. But yes, his
star power helps the show.
Is the
show set in an unsafe space?
Not really.He’s discontent because he’s surrounded by people who have things he
wants, but that’s his own problem. New York is usually an inherently unsafe space for
the non-rich, but nobody seems to worry about money ever.
Is
this a setting that will bring (or has brought) different economic classes
together?
Not really.Everybody seems to fit into the category of striver.
Will trouble
walk in the door on a regular basis?
Nope.Every
episode will give him a different topic to muse on.
Will
the heroes be forced to engage in both physical and cerebral activity on a
regular basis?
Nope.Not a lot
going on physically on this show.
Are
there big stakes that will persist episode after episode?
Discontent Dev feels more and more pressure to
decide whether to get married, whether to have kids, (and, in later episodes)
whether to compromise his dignity for his career, etc.
Will
the ongoing situation produce goals or mini-goals that can be satisfactorily
resolved on a regular basis?
Yes, each episode will present Dev with a dilemma
represented by that episode’s title.
The Pilot: Will this pilot episode be marketable and
generate word of mouth?
Does
the pilot contain all of the entertainment value inherent in the premise
(rather than just setting everything up and promising that the fun will start
next week)?
We dive right in.
Does the pilot feature an image we haven’t seen before (that can be used
to promote the show)?
Netflix doesn’t really promote, but even then, not really.
Is
there something bold, weird, and never-before-seen about this concept and/or
pilot?
Frankly, just the fact that it’s about a south-Asian
guy living a normal white life.
Is there a “HOLY CRAP!” scene somewhere along the way in the pilot (to
create word of mouth)?
it’s a little too laid back for that, but there are
lots of pleasantly outrageous moment, such as the little girl saying “He took
me to the bathroom and told me not to tell anybody.”
Does
the pilot build up potential energy that will power future episodes (secrets
that will come out, potential romances, etc.)?
Yes, the girl will return and Dev’s worries about
marriage and kids will only grow.
Even
if this is episodic, is there a major twist or escalation at the end (though
sometimes this twist will only be new to, or only revealed to, the audience)
that will kick future episodes up a notch?
Nope.
PART 2: IS THIS A COMPELLING
HERO (OR CO-HEROES IN DIFFERENT STORYLINES)? (16/16)
Believe: Do we recognize the hero (or co-heroes) as
human?
Does
the hero have a moment of humanity early on? (A
funny, or kind, or oddball, or out-of-character, or comically vain, or
unique-but-universal “I thought I was the only one who did that!” moment?)
Many fun oddball moments, such as getting excited
about apple juice while buying the Plan B pills.
Does
the hero have a well-defined public identity?
The jokey fun-loving actor.
Does
that ironically contrast with a hidden interior self?
He’s discontent and longs for something settled
down.
Does
the hero have three rules he or she lives by (either stated or implied)?
It’s cool, I can do this, Always have fun.
Does
the hero have a consistent metaphor family (drawn
from his or her job, background, or developmental state)?
Childhood: “Are you on birth control and stuff?”
“Bounce house!”
Does
the hero have a default personality trait?
Fun-loving
Does
the hero have a default argument tactic?
Stubbornly sticks to his original point.
Care: Do we feel for the hero (or co-heroes)?
Does the hero have a great flaw
that is the flip side of his or her great strength?
He’s
superficial, flippant, easily distracted
Does
the hero feel that this flaw cannot be resolved until it’s time to abandon
the world of the show?
Yes, he despairs of losing his fun life if he stops
being single.
Does
the flaw resonate with the theme and/or setting of the show?
Yes, Manhattan is a place where it’s fun to be a
single restaurant-lover, not so fun to be a parent.
Invest: Can we trust the hero (or co-heroes) to
tackle this challenge?
Does the hero have a great
strength that is the flip side of his or her great flaw?
He’s
fun to be around, open-hearted.
Is the hero good at his or her
job (or family role, if that’s his or her primary role)?
Yes.(We’re never that impressed with his
acting when we see him acting, but it’s clear that everybody else is.)
Is the
hero surrounded by people who sorely lack his or her most valuable quality?
His friends lack his open-heartedness.
Is the
hero curious?
Yes, quizzes all the parents he meets about what
it’s like.
Is the
hero generally resourceful?
He’s great with kids.
Does the hero use unique skills to solve problems (rather than doing what
anybody else on the show would do)?
He shows great ingenuity when it comes to making
things fun.
PART 3: IS THIS A STRONG
ENSEMBLE (BEYOND THE HERO OR CO-HEROES)?(12/13)
Powerful: Is each member
of the ensemble able to hold his or her own?
If
this is a network TV series, are there at least two more roles that are
strong enough to get TV veterans to sign their own five-year contracts? (And
even if not for TV, are the characters still that strong, simply for
narrative purposes?)
Well, one anyway. Eric Wareheim is a TV vet.Noel Wells was a SNL vet.
Are
all of the other regular roles strong enough on the page in this first
episode to attract great actors? (ditto)
Yes, the acting is excellent across the board.
Does each member of the ensemble
have a distinct and defensible point of view?
Yes,
each one has strong and well-argued feelings about kids.
Is
each character defined primarily by actions and attitudes, not by his or her
backstory?
Yes.
Do all of the
characters consciously and unconsciously prioritize their own wants, rather
than the wants of others? (Good characters don’t
serve good, evil characters don’t serve evil.)
Yes,
everyone is self-serving.
Do
most of the main characters have some form of decision-making power? (And is
the characters’ boss or bosses also part of the cast, so that major decisions
will not be made by non-regulars?)
Yes.Dev is self-employed.
Balanced: Do the members
of the ensemble balance each other out?
Whether this is a premise or
episodic pilot, is there one point-of-view who needs this world explained
(who may or may not be the hero)?
Nope.
It’s all self-explanatory.
Does
it take some effort for the POV character to extract other characters’
backstories?
NA
Are the non-3-dimensional
characters impartially polarized into head, heart and gut (or various forms
of 2-way or 4-way polarization)?
He’s
heart, Arnold is stomach, Nicole is crotch, we’ll later find that Rachel is
head.
Does each member of the ensemble
have a distinct metaphor family (different from the hero’s, even if they’re
in the same profession)?
Arnold:
Despite his looks, it’s kind of frat: “Dude, babies are boring, man”, Denise:
Street: “Nobody uses that shit”
Does
each member of the ensemble have a different default personality trait?
Arnold: Self-centered, Denise: Laid back
Does
each member of the ensemble have a different default argument tactic?
Arnold: Harsh truths, Denise: Defers
Is
there at least one prickly character who creates sparks whenever he or she
appears?
Arnold
PART 4: IS THE PILOT
EPISODE A STRONG STAND-ALONE STORY AND GOOD TEMPLATE FOR THE ONGOING SERIES?
(20/22)
Template: Does this match
and/or establish the standard format of this type of series
Does
the pilot have (or establish) the average length for its format?
Yes.It’s 28 minutes, which is in line with streaming half-hours.
If
this is intended for a form of commercial media, does the pilot have the
right number of commercial breaks for its intended venue?
NA
If
this is intended for commercial TV, does every act end on a cliffhanger or
escalation, especially the middle one (and, if not intended for commercial
TV, does it still have escalations happening in roughly the same places,
simply for narrative purposes)?
1st act out: He says good-bye to Rachel.
2nd act out: He agrees to watch his friend’s kids. 3rd:
things end badly at the grocery store.
Does
the pilot establish the general time frame for most upcoming episodes of this
series?
This show will have very different time frames.
Do all
of the pilot’s storylines intercut believably within that time frame?
Yes.
If
this is a premise pilot, is the basic premise established by the midpoint,
leaving time for a foreshortened typical episode story in the second half?
NA: It’s not a premise pilot.
Pilot Story Fundamentals: Does the pilot
episode have a strong story?
Does
the pilot provide at least one satisfactory stand-alone story (even if that
story is just the accomplishment of a mini-goal)?
Yes.
Is
this episode’s plot simple enough to spend more time on character than plot?
Very much so.
Is the
pilot’s challenge something that is not just hard for the hero to do (an
obstacle) but hard for the hero to want to do (a conflict)?
Yes, he discovers that taking care of these kids is
something that threatens his sense of self.
First Half: Is the problem established in a
way that reflects human nature?
Does
the hero start out with a short-term goal for this episode?
Have sex.
Does a
troubling situation (episodic pilot) or major change in the status quo
(premise pilot) develop near the beginning of the episode?
The condom breaks
Does
the hero eventually commit to dealing with this situation personally?
He gets a plan B pill, then after thinking about it
some more, decides to watch a friend’s kids to see if he wants to have any.
Do the
hero’s efforts quickly lead to an unforeseen conflict with another person?
The kids.
Does
the hero try the easy way throughout the second quarter?
The main story starts late, but yes, he’s hoping to
spend the whole time at the playground, until it looks like it’s going to
rain.
Does
this culminate in a major midpoint setback or escalation of the problem
(whether or not there’s a commercial break)?
The kids deeply embarrass him in the grocery store.
Second Half: Is the mini-goal resolved as
the ongoing trouble escalates?
Does
the hero try the hard way from this point on?
When he goes to return the stolen wallet, he finds
out the truth about Grant
By
halfway through, are character decisions driving the plot, rather than
external plot complications?
Yes.
Are
the stakes increased as the pace increases and the motivation escalates?
Yes, he’s in danger of getting arrested by the end.
Does a
further setback force the hero to adopt a wider view of the problem?
He gets the truth from Grant.
After
that setback, does the hero finally commit to pursuing a corrected goal?
He realizes that he’s ill-equipped, goes home to
keep the kids under wraps until he return them.
Before
the final quarter of the story begins, (if not long before) has the hero
switched to being proactive, instead of reactive?
It’s the opposite: He’s foolishly proactive at first, then
switches to being wisely reactive.
After
the climax, does either the hero, the point of view character or a guest star
have a personal revelation and/or life change, possibly revealed through
reversible behavior?
He rejects the kids’ sandwich, symbolizing his
decision to reject the idea of having kids.
PART 5: IS
EACH SCENE THE BEST IT CAN BE? (20/22) (The opening the scene where Dev’s
condom breaks on a one-night stand)
The Set-Up: Does this scene begin with the essential
elements it needs?
Were tense and/or
hopeful (and usually false) expectations for this interaction established
beforehand?
NA:
It’s the first scene.
Does the scene eliminate small
talk and repeated beats by cutting out the beginning (or possibly even the
middle)?
No.
Is this an intimidating setting
that keeps characters active?
It’s
a bedroom on a one-night-stand with a broken condom, so yeah.
Is one of the scene partners not
planning to have this conversation (and quite possibly has something better
to do)?
She
was planning on finishing the sex.
Is there at least one non-plot
element complicating the scene?
The
Uber pricing.
Does the scene establish its own
mini-ticking-clock (if only through subconscious anticipation)?
His
boys could be swimming up into her as they speak.
The Conflict: Do the conflicts play out in a lively
manner?
Does this scene both advance the
plot and reveal character?
Both.
Are one or more characters in
the scene emotionally affected by this interaction or action as the scene
progresses?
They
both are more than they let on.
Does the audience have (or
develop) a rooting interest in this scene (which may sometimes shift)?
We’re
equally sympathetic to the two of them, as we will be for their entire
relationship, even when they fight.
Are two agendas genuinely
clashing (rather than merely two personalities)?
He
wants to go get the pill, she wants to just put on another condom.
Does the scene have both a
surface conflict and a suppressed conflict (one of which is the primary
conflict in this scene)?
Surface:
Do we need the pill? Suppressed: Are we doing something wrong?
Is the suppressed conflict
(which may or may not come to the surface) implied through subtext (and/or
called out by the other character)?
She’s
exasperated by his childlike description of what they’re doing, implying that
she’s regretting the whole decision.
Are the characters cagy (or in
denial) about their own feelings?
Not
really.They’re pretty
straightforward.
Do characters use verbal tricks
and traps to get what they want, not just direct confrontation?
Again,
they’re pretty straightforward.
Is there re-blocking, including
literal push and pull between the scene partners (often resulting in just one
touch)?
There’s
quite a lot of pushing and pulling when the scene begins.
Are objects given or taken,
representing larger values?
That’s
the whole debate, isn’t it.
The Outcome: Does this scene change the story going forward?
As a result of this scene, does
at least one of the scene partners end up doing something that he or she
didn’t intend to do when the scene began?
She
agrees to stop having sex and go get the pill right away.
Does the outcome of the scene
ironically reverse (and/or ironically fulfill) the original intention?
He
talks a woman out of bed on a one-night stand.
Are previously-asked
questions answered?
It’s
the first scene.
Are new questions posed that
will be left unanswered for now?
Will
she get pregnant?
Is the audience left with a
growing hope and/or fear for what might happen next? (Not just in the next
scene, but generally)
Will
she get pregnant?Will they be
able to get along after this?
Does the scene cut out early, on
a question (possibly to be answered instantly by the circumstances of the
next scene)?
It
cuts out early, but not on a question.
PART 6: IS THIS
POWERFUL DIALOGUE? (10/13)
Empathetic: Is the dialogue true to human nature?
Does the writing demonstrate
empathy for all of the characters?
Very
much so.
Does each of the characters,
including the hero, have a limited perspective?
Very
much so.
Are the characters resistant to
openly admitting their feelings (to others and even to themselves)?
He’s
sort of an over-sharer, but we see from his fantasies that he has dreams and
fears he doesn’t share easily.
Do the characters avoid saying
things they wouldn’t say?
As
shown by his friend’s false tale of his kids, followed by the true story.
Do the characters interrupt each
other often?
Not
really.
Specific: Is the dialogue specific to this world and
each personality?
Does the dialogue capture the
culturally-specific syntax of the characters (without necessarily attempting
to replicate non-standard pronunciation)?
Dev
is a proudly de-cultured character, but we’ll seen meet his parents and
south-Asian friends, who will speak with cultural syntax (and the show will
harshly denounce the idea of acting in an Indian dialect)
Does the dialogue capture the
jargon of the profession and/or setting?
Not
really.
Does the dialogue capture the
tradecraft of the profession being portrayed?
Not
really.
Heightened: Is the dialogue more pointed and dynamic
than real talk?
Is the dialogue more concise
than real talk?
Yes.
Does the dialogue have more
personality than real talk?
Yes.
Is there a minimum of commas in
the dialogue (the lines are not prefaced with Yes, No, Well, Look, or the
other character’s name)?
Yes.
Do non-professor characters
speak without dependent clauses, conditionals, or parallel construction?
Yes.
Is there one gutpunch scene,
where the subtext falls away and the characters really lay into each other?
Yes,
his talk with Grant.
PART 7: DOES THE PILOT MANAGE ITS TONE
TO CREATE AND FULFILL AUDIENCE EXPECTATIONS? (8/8)
Genre and Mood: Does the series tap into
pre-established expectations?
Does the series fit within one
genre (or compatible sub-genres)?
Singles
sitcom
Are unrealistic genre-specific
elements a big metaphor for a more common experience (not how life really is,
but how life really feels)?
NA:
No genre elements.
Separate from the genre, does
the pilot establish an overall mood for the series?
Whimsically
philosophical
If there are multiple
storylines, do they establish the spectrum of moods available within that
overall mood?
Yes,
the various other parents he meets run the gamut from funny to poignant and
somewhat depressing, which will be the range of this show.
Framing: Does the pilot set, reset, upset and
ultimately exceed its own expectations?
Are there framing devices
(flashforwards, framing sequences and/or first person narration) to set the
mood, pose a dramatic question, and/or pose ongoing questions?
There’s
an onscreen title for the episode.
Is there a dramatic question
posed early on, which will establish in the audience’s mind which moment will
mark the end of the pilot?
Am
I ready to have kids?
Does foreshadowing create
anticipation and suspense (and refocus the audience’s attention on what’s
important)?
The
broken condom foreshadows the trouble he has with kids throughout the
episode.
Is the dramatic question of the
pilot episode’s plot answered near the end of the story?
Yes:
No.
PART 8: DOES
THE PILOT CREATE A MEANINGFUL ONGOING THEME? (14/14)
Pervasive: Is the
theme interwoven into many aspects of the show?
Does
the ensemble as a whole have a unique philosophy about how to fill their role
(and competition from an allied force with a different philosophy)?
Our three stars are dedicated to having fun, as
opposed to most of their friends, who are setting down.
Does
the pilot have a statement of philosophy and/or theme, usually either at the
beginning or ¾ of the way in. (Sometimes this will be the ensemble’s
statement of philosophy, sometimes this merely be the implied theme of the
series itself.)
”Why do they call it Plan B? I mean, is Plan
A having the kid? That's a terrible plan.”
Can the show’s overall ongoing
theme be stated in the form of a classic good vs. good (or evil vs. evil)
dilemma?
Have
fun vs. be responsible.
Throughout the pilot, do the
characters have to choose between goods, or between evils, instead of
choosing between good and evil?
If
you impregnate someone do you marry them?Do you offer to take care of kids in a tough situation if
you’re not sure you can take care of them?If you’re a man, how do you handle a little girl who has
to use the bathroom?
Are
the storylines in the pilot thematically linked (preferably in an indirect,
subtle way)?
This is a show where the storylines will be linked
thematically fairly explicitly, but that’s fine.
Are small details throughout the
pilot tied into the theme?
Almost
everybody is dealing with some aspect of it.
Will
the heroes grapple with new moral gray areas in each episode?
Yes, the tagline is “Dev has a lot of questions.”
Each episode will be about a new gray area.
Grounded: Do the
stakes ring true to the world of the audience?
Does the series’ set-up reflect
the way the world works?
Yes,
it will all feel very real.
Does the series have authentic
things to say about this type of setting?
Yes.
Does the ongoing concept include
twinges of real life national pain?
There’s
a just a tiny sense of racism and assimiliation worries in the pilot, but
they’ll grow.
Are these issues presented in a
way that avoids moral hypocrisy?
Yes.
Do all of the actions in the
pilot have real consequences?
Yes
and no.We cut away from the
disastrous grocery store confrontation without consequences, but the divorce
in the Grant storyline certainly indicates real consequences for all this.
Untidy: Is the
dilemma ultimately irresolvable?
Do the characters refuse (or
fail) to synthesize the meaning of the pilot episode’s story, forcing the
audience to do that?
All
he does is a choose a sandwich, and doesn’t talk about the greater meaning. .
Does the end of the pilot leave
the thematic dilemma wide open and irresolvable?
He
seems to have resolved it for now, but it’s not hard to guess that it will
continue to bug him.