The Ultimate Pilot Story Checklist: Modern Family

Warning: Unhip alert! For the next two weeks I will be praising (and also criticizing) one of the most uncool shows on TV. If you demand coolness, return in a fortnight!

Three very different families turn out to be one big family: Controlling Claire and immature Phil raise three children: flirty Haley, nerdy-but-snarky Alex, and dim bulb Luke. Meanwhile, aging Jay has married fiery Gloria and got her romantic son Manny in the process. We also meet touchy Mitchell and his boyfriend overly-dramatic Cam, who have just adopted a baby from Vietnam. In the pilot, Haley has an older boy over, Luke shoots Alex with a BB gun forcing his parents to make good on their threat to shoot in return, Jay sees a younger guy hit on Gloria, Manny quixotically asks out an older girl, and Mitchell must admit to Cam that he hasn’t told his disapproving family about the baby. In the end, Mitchell’s family arrives and we realize that Claire is his sister and Jay is their Dad.

CONCEPT: Is this a strong concept for an ongoing series? (14/20)
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 a funny, likable family with a little edge to it.
Does the series establish its own unique point of view on its setting?	Well, somewhat unique: “Arrested Development” had already done the family mockumentary set-up, but this is very different.
Is there a central relationship we haven’t seen in a series before?	Many: gay parents, a positively-portrayed May-December marriage, a dad who wants to be best friends with his kids, etc.
Does the ongoing concept of the series contain a fundamental (and possibly fun) ironic contradiction?	Just barely: three very different types of family are actually one big family.
Does the concept meet the content expectations of one particular intended network, venue, or audience?	Yes, it’s very ABC/Disney: family based, somewhat sentimental / somewhat hip.
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.”)	Everything is pleasant.
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)?	No. This show splits its focus very democratically amongst all six cast members adult cast members, and it really makes that work.
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?)	No.  Most were TV veterans, but, perhaps because of the six-way identification split, none were big-screen-worthy stars.  Again, this works just fine.
Is the show set in an unsafe space?	Yes. All three families are pretty rough on each other, and the documentary interviews allow them to really have at it.
Is this a setting that will bring (or has brought) different economic classes together?	Not really.  Gloria and Manny used to be poor, but now they too are rich.  This would be a big problem for the show.
Will trouble walk in the door on a regular basis?	Just barely, in the form of Haley’s dates, and guys hitting on Gloria.  Most the trouble will come from ongoing internal resentments, which is fine.
Will the heroes be forced to engage in both physical and cerebral activity on a regular basis?	Again, not really, which connects to the economic class issue.  They’re all fairly rich.
Are there big stakes that will persist episode after episode?	No. Again, they’re all rich and have little to worry about other than the usual family concerns.  You would think that this alone might cause problems (Phil is a real estate agent in 2009 L.A.-- Surely that might have cause some worry?) but it doesn’t
Will the ongoing situation produce goals or mini-goals that can be satisfactorily resolved on a regular basis?	Very much so.
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)?	Very much so. There’s a big reveal that they save for the end, but that actually helps here because it assures us that each family is worth watching separately, even if they never interacted.
Does the pilot feature an image we haven’t seen before (that can be used to promote the show)?	Just the sight of this very diverse untraditional family.
Is there something bold, weird, and never-before-seen about this concept and/or pilot?	The two non-traditional families are both bold choices, or at least seemed so at the time.
Is there a “HOLY CRAP!” scene somewhere along the way in the pilot (to create word of mouth)?	Sort of: Claire and Phil shooting their son and their daughter’s date.
Does the pilot build up potential energy that will power future episodes (secrets that will come out, potential romances, etc.)?	Sort of: it’s revealed at the end that nobody approves of Mitchell and Cam adopting, which will proved future friction, and Phil’s crush on his stepmother-in-law is also a potential (minor) problem.
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?	Yes: the revelation that this is all one big family, rather than three separate families (which is only a reveal to the audience.)
CHARACTER: Is this a compelling hero? (Okay folks, we have six co-equal heroes here, so we have a lot of work to do, but this pilot does a great job setting up all six, so let’s answer each question for each one) (15/16)
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?)	Claire: husband closes the fridge door on her, Phil: yells upstairs, Jay: fails to stand up while claiming to be young, Gloria: stands up for son, Mitchell: gives vainglorious speech, Cam: embarrassed by husband.
Does the hero have a well-defined public identity?	Claire: the strict mom, Phil: the cool dad, Jay: the grouch, Gloria: the trophy bimbo, Mitchell: the strident one, Cam: the “woman”
Does that ironically contrast with a hidden interior self?	Claire: the bad girl, Phil: the terrible dad, Jay: not really, he is what he seems to be, Gloria: smart, loving, snarky wife and mom, Mitchell: afraid of being too gay, Cam: actually a jock and the strong one.
Does the hero have three rules he or she lives by (either stated or implied)?	Claire: It’s up to me, I can’t trust my kids, I must overcome my past, Phil: Be my kids’ best friend, be hip, be subtly dominant, Jay: I don’t have time for this, I have to set everybody straight, I’m not too old, Gloria: Nobody hurts my kid, life is for living, share every thought, Mitchell: Stand up for gayness, Don’t trust Cam, Avoid conflict, Cam: it’ll all be okay, be who you are, force the issue.
Does the hero have a consistent metaphor family (drawn from his or her job, background, or developmental state)?	There is no lone hero, so see ensemble section for these.
Does the hero have a default personality trait?	There is no lone hero, so see ensemble section for these.
Does the hero have a default argument tactic?	There is no lone hero, so see ensemble section for these.
Care: Do we feel for the hero (or co-heroes)
Does the hero have a great flaw that is the flip side of his great strength?	Claire: too strict, Phil: too lax, Jay: too gruff, Gloria: too fiery, Mitchell: too touchy, Cam: too dramatic
Does the hero feel that this flaw cannot be resolved until it’s time to abandon the world of the show?	Yes for all: they all feel like their role is essential to who they are and beneficial to their kids, even they recognize that it’s a personal flaw.
Does the flaw resonate with the theme and/or setting of the show?	Yes for all: these are all different types of problematic parents.
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 great flaw?	Claire: strong mother, Phil: no, no great strength showed yet, Jay: loving husband, Gloria: loving wife and mother, Mitchell: greater perspective, Cam: braver
Is the hero good at his or her job (or family role, if that’s his or her primary role)?	(the “job” for each, for the purposes of this show, is spouse/parent) Claire: Yes, Phil: Not really, Jay: Somewhat, Gloria: Yes, Mitchell: Yes, Cam: Yes.
Is the hero surrounded by people who sorely lack his or her most valuable quality?	Claire: the only sensible one, Phil: the fun one, Jay: the skeptical one, Gloria: the passionate one, Mitchell: the sensible one, Cam: the fun one.
Is the hero curious?	Claire: Yes (snoops into daughter’s date), Phil: No, Jay: Yes (snoops into stepson’s business), Gloria: Yes (ditto), Mitchell: No (never suspected any of Cam’s arrangements), Cam (snoops out Mitchell’s family problem)
Is the hero generally resourceful?	Claire: Yes, Phil: No, Jay: Yes, Gloria: Yes, Mitchell and Cam: we don’t get to see yet, as they encounter no big obstacles until the end (family’s dubiousness about the adoption), and that obstacle remains unresolved.
Does the hero use unique skills to solve problems (rather than doing what anybody else on the show would do)?	Not really.  Jay offers Manny $50 not to ask that girl out, but that’s about it.  Two of the families are atypical in their structure, but not so much in their (somewhat hapless) parenting techniques.
ENSEMBLE: Is this a strong ensemble (beyond the hero or co-heroes)?  (13/13)
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?)	All six were well-regarded TV vets.
Are all of the other regular roles strong enough on the page in this first episode to attract great actors? (ditto)	Yes. Every actor, including the kids, would excel as the show progressed.  The casting is excellent up and down the line.
Does each member of the ensemble have a distinct and defensible point of view?	Yes.
Is each character defined primarily by actions and attitudes, not by his or her backstory?	Yes. The delay of the backstory reveal until the end proves that the show can rely entirely on front-story whenever it needs to.
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.)	Very much so.  Each parent and child is motivated almost entirely by self-interest.
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, in that the show is about their decisions as parents.
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)?	Yes, the never-seen documentary crew.
Does it take some effort for the POV character to extract other characters’ backstories?	Yes and No, they families tell everything to the documentarians’ camera, but the  documentarians choose to parcel out that backstory to us.
Are the non-3-dimensional characters impartially polarized into head, heart and gut (or various forms of 2-way or 4-way polarization)?	Clare and Phil are 2-way: Strict vs. loose.  Their kids are 3-way: Alex is head, Luke is heart, Haley is gut. Also 3-way: Jay is head (“this is a bad idea”), Gloria is gut, Manny is heart.  Cameron and Mitchell are two way: Uptight vs. frou-frou.
Does each member of the ensemble have a distinct metaphor family (different from the hero’s, even if they’re in the same profession)?	Claire: No, just generic mom, Phil: immature “playa”, “we cool” “keep it real”, Jay: outdated alpha male “take it down a notch, that’s all I’m saying”, Gloria: Spanglish, Mitchell: Not really, Cam: maternal (“nesting instinct” “redheaded daddy is angry daddy”) therapy (“that’s science, you can’t fight it” “you’re an avoider)
Does each member of the ensemble have a different default personality trait?	Claire: exasperated, Phil: immature, Jay: gruff, Gloria: fiery, Mitchell: uptight, Cam: serene
Does each member of the ensemble have a different default argument tactic?	Claire: Glare and yell, Phil: appeal to friendship, Jay: mock, Gloria: overshare, Mitchell: mock, Cam: declare as a fait accomplait
Is there at least one prickly character who creates sparks whenever he or she appears?	Gloria
STRUCTURE: Is the pilot episode a strong stand-alone story and good template for the ongoing series? (22/22)
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.
If this is intended for commercial TV, does the pilot have the right number of commercial breaks for its intended venue?	Yes, three.
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)?	Yes: First: Dylan arrives and Phil fails to stand up to him.  Next: Phil shoots Dylan.
Does the pilot establish the general time frame for most upcoming episodes of this series?	Yes, most episodes will cover one day, intercutting from family to family.
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?	It’s a center-cut pilot for two of the families and a premise-pilot from Mitchell and Cam, but it’s established right away.
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, three.
Is this episode’s plot simple enough to spend more time on character than plot?	Yes, three stories is a lot to juggle but each is very simple.
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, for four of them: hard for Claire to allow daughter to date, for Phil to shoot Luke, for Jay to all Manny to do his own thing, and for Mitchell to confess all to his family.
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?	Claire: get the kids fed, Phil: no, Jay: calm Gloria down, Gloria: get Manny to play Soccer better, Mitchell and Cam: prepare for the flight.
Does a troubling situation (episodic pilot) or major change in the status quo (premise pilot) develop near the beginning of the episode?	Claire: daughter has boyfriend coming over, Phil: must defend daughter and shoot son, Jay: manhood insulted, stepson seems headed for disaster, Gloria: husband won’t accept son, Mitchell: feels looked down upon, Cam: boyfriend is freaking out.
Does the hero eventually commit to dealing with this situation personally?	Yes for all.
Do the hero’s efforts quickly lead to an unforeseen conflict with another person?	Claire and Phil: Dylan, Jay: the dude and Manny, Gloria: Jay, Mitchell: people on the plane, Cam: Mitchell
Does the hero try the easy way throughout the second quarter?	Claire: tries to avoid, Phil: puts off the shooting, tries to befriend the boy, Jay: no, confronts directly, Gloria: No, confronts directly, Mitchell: avoids confrontation with family, Cam: No, deals with it directly
Does this culminate in a major midpoint setback or escalation of the problem (whether or not there’s a commercial break)?	Claire: Daughter goes up stairs with boy, Phil: Hurts himself while confronting boy, Jay: Son is picking flowers, Gloria: No, Mitchell: Finds out Cam called his parents, Cam: Mitchell upset with him.
Second Half: Is the mini-goal resolved as the ongoing trouble escalates?
Does the hero try the hard way from this point on?	Claire: confronts Dylan, Phil: shoots son and , Jay: , Gloria: , Mitchell: , Cam:
By halfway through, are character decisions driving the plot, rather than external plot complications?	Yes for all.
Are the stakes increased as the pace increases and the motivation escalates?	Yes for all.
Does a further setback force the hero to adopt a wider view of the problem?	Claire: Alex forces her to face her fears, Phil: Shoots Luke accidentally, Jay: told to join mallwalkers, Gloria: no, Mitchell: family tells him not to adopt, Cam: No
After that setback, does the hero finally commit to pursuing a corrected goal?	Claire: Goes up to Haley’s room, Phil: No, Jay: Buys new clothes, Gloria: No, Mitchell: Tells family the truth, Cam: No
Before the final quarter of the story begins, (if not long before) has the hero switched to being proactive, instead of reactive?	Claire: Yes, Phil: No, Jay: Yes, Gloria: Yes, Mitchell: Yes, Cam: Yes
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?	Claire: Realizes that she needs to stop her daughter from becoming her, Phil: , Jay: , Gloria: , Mitchell: , Cam:
SCENEWORK: Is each scene the best it can be? (21/23) (Sample scene: Claire and Alex discuss the fact that Haley is upstairs with a boy and her door is closed. Alex prods her mother into acting by telling a story about a girl in her school who gave birth then pretended she had just had mono and it was her mother’s baby.)
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?	It has been established that Claire is tense about what is going on upstairs, and that Alex is annoyed at her sister.
Does the scene eliminate small talk and repeated beats by cutting out the beginning (or possibly even the middle)?	It begins at the beginning, but cuts out the middle by intercutting with the Phil and Luke scene.
Is this an intimidating setting that keeps characters active?	It’s not intimidating, but making frosting together keeps them active.
Is one of the scene partners not planning to have this conversation (and quite possibly has something better to do)?	Alex wanted to read her book.
Is there at least one non-plot element complicating the scene?	The frosting.
Does the scene establish its own mini-ticking-clock (if only through subconscious anticipation)?	There is a presumption that the goings-on upstairs may be escalating.
The Conflict: Do the conflicts play out in a lively manner?
Does this scene both advance the plot and reveal character?	Yes, for both.
Are one or more characters in the scene emotionally affected by this interaction or action as the scene progresses?	Yes, Claire is pained.
Does the audience have (or develop) a rooting interest in this scene (which may sometimes shift)?	We share Claire’s concern, and enjoy Alex’s sadism.
Are two agendas genuinely clashing (rather than merely two personalities)?	They both want the same thing (for Claire to check in upstairs) but for different reasons, and each is prodding the other in different ways.
Does the scene have both a surface conflict and a suppressed conflict (one of which is the primary conflict in this scene)?	Surface conflict: Help me with the frosting. Next layer: What’s going up upstairs? Subtext: will you control us or will we control you?
Is the suppressed conflict (which may or may not come to the surface) implied through subtext (and/or called out by the other character)?	Yes, though the mono discussion.
Are the characters cagy (or in denial) about their own feelings?	Very much so.
Do characters use verbal tricks and traps to get what they want, not just direct confrontation?	Very much so, Claire tricks answers out of Alex, Alex tricks Claire into acting.
Is there re-blocking, including literal push and pull between the scene partners (often resulting in just one touch)?	Yes, they move around the kitchen, Claire seems to put a hand on her back at the end.
Are objects given or taken, representing larger values?	Claire hands Alex a whisk, representing an attempt to restore her motherly status.
If this is a big scene, is it broken down into a series of mini-goals?	Yes, at first Alex wants to be left alone, then she decides to sabotage her sister.  First Claire wants to find out what’s going on, then she wants to defend her daughter, then changes her mind.
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?	Well, Claire wanted to do it, buy might not have if Alex hadn’t prodded her with a trick.
Does the outcome of the scene ironically reverse (and/or ironically fulfill) the original intention?	No, they both unironically get what they want.
Are previously-asked questions answered?	No, just reiterated.
Are new questions posed that will be left unanswered for now?	What are they doing upstairs?
Is the audience left with a growing hope and/or fear for what might happen next? (Not just in the next scene, but generally)	We are worried that Haley might get pregnant.
Does the scene cut out early, on a question (possibly to be answered instantly by the circumstances of the next scene)?	Yes, what will Claire find upstairs?
DIALOGUE: Is this powerful dialogue? (15/15)
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.  Even in their interviews, with a little hindsight, they fail to accurate identify their failings, which is great.
Are the characters resistant to openly admitting their feelings (to others and even to themselves)?	Yes.  Again, they’re more willing to do so in the interviews, but even there they often fail to do so.
Do the characters avoid saying things they wouldn’t say?	Very much so.  Mitchell is clearly refraining from criticizing Can and says “I’m not saying anything,” but Cam responds “You’re saying everything.”
Do the characters listen poorly?	Very much so.
Do the characters interrupt each other more often than not?	Yes.
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)?	Yes, Gloria’s spanglish is handled deftly enough that it lively and fun, rather than offensive or stereotypical.
Does the dialogue capture the jargon of the profession and/or setting?	Yes, the parents use a lot of unique-but-universal parent-isms.
Does the dialogue capture the tradecraft of the profession being portrayed?	In this case, this and the above are the same thing.
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?	Very much so.
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, the final scene with the whole family.
TONE: Does the pilot manage its tone to create and fulfill audience expectations? (10/10)
Genre and Mood: Does the series tap into pre-established expectations?
Does the series fit within one genre (or compatible sub-genres)?	Family mockumentary three-camera sitcom
Are unrealistic genre-specific elements a big metaphor for a more common experience (not how life really is, but how life really feels)?	No genre elements
Separate from the genre, does the pilot establish an overall mood for the series?	Yes, fast-paced, sarcastic, droll, zingy
If there are multiple storylines, do they establish the spectrum of moods available within that overall mood?	Somewhat.  Claire/Phil is more broad and satirical, Jay/Gloria and Cameron/Mitchell more open-hearted and warm.
Is there a moment early on that establishes the type and level of jeopardy?	Mitchell makes the speech on the plane: the jeopardy is public humiliation due to a failure to navigate the tricky politics of the changing nature of families.
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?	The documentary interviews provide a framing sequence.
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?	Will Haley fool around?  Will they shoot Luke?  Will Manny be humiliated?  With Mitchell and Cam it comes later: what will happen when Mitchell’s family arrives?
Does foreshadowing create anticipation and suspense (and refocus the audience’s attention on what’s important)?	Claire talked before about her own high school promiscuity, etc.
Are set-up and pay-off used to dazzle the audience, distracting attention from plot contrivances?	There aren’t really any plot contrivances, but the big reveal is that they’re all one family, and that’s subtly set up well.
Is the dramatic question of the pilot episode’s plot answered near the end of the story?	Yes and no, they’re all answered in the second half in succession.
THEME: Does the pilot create a meaningful ongoing theme? (10/14)
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)?	No, each of the pairs of parents has a philosophy of raising kids that contrasts with his or her co-parent.
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 stated statement of philosophy, sometimes this merely be the implied theme of the series itself.)	Yes, at the very end: It seems to be delivered by Jay in a sincere manner, but then we realize that he’s reading Manny’s ridiculous love note.  This is a good cheat, allowing them to have a sentimental summary of theme without actually having to be annoyingly sincere, but soon the show would give in and allow actual syrup to leak into the end of each show.
Can the show’s overall ongoing theme be stated in the form of a classic good vs. good (or evil vs. evil) dilemma?	Should families trust each other or set each other straight?
Throughout the pilot, do the characters have to choose between goods, or between evils, instead of choosing between good and evil?	Yes, shoot your kid or break your word? Denounce possible bigotry or give the benefit of the doubt?  Protect your stepkid from embarrassment or let him be foolishly brave?
Are the storylines in the pilot thematically linked (preferably in an indirect, subtle way)?	Yes and no, they’re linked, but the links on this show are never subtle enough.
Are small details throughout the pilot tied into the theme?	Yes.
Will the heroes grapple with new moral gray areas in each episode?	Yes, all of the above dilemma will continue.
Grounded: Do the stakes ring true to the world of the audience?
Does the series’s set-up reflect the way the world works?	Yes and no: the families are very authentic, but the economics and work life will be fantasy-land.
Does the series have authentic things to say about this type of setting?	Yes, within the families.
Does the ongoing concept include twinges of real life national pain?	Yes and no: the painful struggle to break down social assumptions is right upfront, but the other struggles facing America are absent.
Are these issues presented in a way that avoids moral hypocrisy?	No. It is disingenuous to pretend that the struggles within the 1% represent a true portrait of a “Modern Family”  Also: the show criticizes Jay for going to great lengths to avoid showing Mitchell and Cam kissing, but the show itself would refuse to show that for many years.
Do all of the actions in the pilot have real consequences?	Yes, Luke really does get shot, Manny really does get humiliated, Mitchell really does get ridiculed by his family.
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?	No.  As always on this show, there will be too much talk about what it all means.
Does the end of the pilot leave the thematic dilemma wide open and irresolvable?	Yes.

Total Score: 120/133

Rulebook Casefile: Assembling Gut, Heart, and Head in The 40 Year Old Virgin

Like Dorothy Gale, Carrie, Dr. House and Hannah Horvath, Andy in The 40 Year Old Virgin is a three-dimensional character with one-dimensional advisors who roughly correspond to Gut, Heart, and Head. In this case:

• Jay (Romany Malco) is a classic Gut character, advising Andy to be animalistic, “All you doing is using your instinct. That's it. Tackle the gazelle.”
• David (Paul Rudd) is all-Heart, still hung up on an old relationship and constantly imploring Andy to pursue old-fashioned romance.
• Cal (Seth Rogen) as Head is the least obvious of these three, but, like many Head characters, he is both a would-be novelist (this is more clear in the extended version) and the Jewish member of the group. His advice is all about head-games, employing a strategic “ask questions” method.

This movie’s unique premise sends Andy on a coming-of-age journey at 40 years old, belatedly going from a proto-person to a fully-realized adult, so we get to see him build his adult persona from the ground up, first trying Jay’s method (picking up Leslie Mann), then David’s (Attempting and failing to call Trish), then Cal’s (hitting on the bookstore girl).

It’s only after he’s tried each version on its own and found each one wanting that he realizes that he has to integrate them into one method, and thereby integrate himself into a whole three-dimensional person, surpassing each of his former mentors.

In the commentary, Apatow cheerily points out that, though he and Carrel are the only credited writers, almost every scene in the finished movie was not in the original script, and instead came from jokes pitched by various actors in the movie, and even by some who aren’t in the movie. For instance, he keeps crediting gags to, of all people, Garry Shandling, One of Shandling’s suggestion was, “Once the virgin has sex, it has to be better than all the other guys’ sex”: This led to the wonderful finale in which Andy can only describe his deflowering by leading a jubilant performance of “Age of Aquarius”.

Shandling’s point, it seems to me, is that Andy has combined his friends’ incomplete parts into one whole, and achieved a level of fully-human experience that is denied to them.

Storyteller’s Rulebook: Use Visual Metaphors, Not Verbal Similes

Symbolism is tricky. If you’re too vague, then it’s meaningless, but if you hit the nail too firmly on the head, then you might incur eye-rolling, which knocks the audience out of the movie. As with many other aspects of filmmaking, it works best when the meaning is so implicit in the visual that it doesn’t need to get called out verbally.

The 40 Year Old Virgin has several great examples of implicit visual metaphors:

• When Andy goes home with his first one-night-stand, she weaves all over the road at high speed, symbolizing his own feeling that he’s losing control and going too fast. This ends in a wreck, literally and figuratively.
• After the trans-prostitute incident, Andy finally rejects the advice of the guys and storms out to cross the street and ask Trish out. As he does so, he walks through traffic as cars zip by him on all sides, symbolizing both the riskiness of his action and his newfound implacability.
• Early on, Andy tries to avoid looking at a bus with a sexy cologne ad on it, but in the end he flies off his bike and right into a moving-billboard version of the same ad, crashing through to the other side, where he lands in front of Trish and finally admits the truth.

But it also has one example that gets a little too pointed: When David advises Andy to masturbate, he reaches for one of Andy’s still-in-the-box action figures...

• You’re like one of these action figures...all hermetically sealed in your box. I’m just saying, let it out. Give it some air, man. Play with it.

That’s not terrible, but it’s a little grating to the ear. It’s would have been much better if they just cut out the first sentence. As a general rule, explicit verbal similes should always be avoided in movie dialogue, in favor of implicit visual metaphors. Let us make the connection.

Rulebook Casefile: The Way the World Works (and Doesn’t) in The 40 Year Virgin

My pick for America’s most underrated movie critic is John Powers, who’s occasionally featured on the NPR show “Fresh Air”, where his rising-in-pitch exasperation with modern movies is a consistent delight. One of my favorite golden-oldies was his withering criticism of You’ve Got Mail, the lame remake of The Shop Around the Corner. Powers complained the new version had to be about a shop owner, rather than mere shop employees: “Of course not: then they’d be losers!”

I think of that line often when I see movie after movie about that mythic beast: the small business owner. So you can understand how happy I was to see a movie about everyday shop employees, in which that wasn’t seen as a shameful occupation.

Why is Hollywood so afraid of people who work retail? Obviously, the biggest reason is that this is a common social attitude. If you’re at a party, you’re fine as long as you say, “I have a start-up” (even if it’s a pipe dream that will never make a cent) or “I’m in graduate school” (even if it’s plunging you into a lifetime of debt for a worthless degree) but heaven forbid you say you work retail (which actually brings money in instead of blowing it out.) Even I tend to reflexively pity that answer, thought I quickly upbraid myself.

In movies and TV everybody must either have or aspire to have their own small business, as if that’s a wise goal in the modern economy. Only losers put up with the indignity of a stable income.

So I loved The 40 Year Old Virgin right up until the end when it turns out that, of course, Andy dreams of starting his own stereo store, and, lucky him, makes a half-million dollars to get started by selling his action figures. It didn’t have to be that way. Over the course of the movie, as Andy gains in confidence, he quietly works his way up from the stockroom to the sales floor to store management. Managing a chain store is actually a much better gig than starting your own, especially if you have a brand-new family, but that’s not the Cowboy Way, and every movie hero must be a cowboy in the end.

This is one of the things I greatly admired about Bridesmaids (which was also produced by Apatow): The backstory is that Annie wrecked her life by following her dream and opening her own bakery. That’s the way the world works, but it takes a lot of courage for a Hollywood movie to admit it.

Nevertheless, The 40 Year Old Virgin gets a tremendous amount of credit from me for offering a rare portrayal of content middle-income Americans for most of its running time.

Straying from the Party Line: The Lame Third Act Escalation in The 40 Year Old Virgin

It’s a week of long posts!

So let’s talk about the weakest part of The 40 Year Old Virgin: The lame escalation that launches the final sequence of the movie.

At first, everything is escalating nicely, but soon it gets weird…

1. After a believable fight with Trish, Andy decides to revert to Cal and Jay’s advice: he gets drunk at Jay’s engagement party and hits on the bookstore girl, Beth. She’s into it and they go to her house.
2. At her house, Beth gets freakier and Andy loses interest. As he leaves her bathroom, he finds his friends in her bedroom. (We get a lame explanation that Jay once had sex with her and kept a key, an explanation that is both dubious and supremely creepy, but quickly glossed over.) They convince Andy to recommit to Trish instead, so he leaves and bicycles home (Why not go to Trish’s house?) Meanwhile, Cal goes into the bathroom to presumably to have sex with Beth, who doesn’t even know him. (We later see them together at the wedding.)
3. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to him, Trish’s daughter Marla has convinced her to go try to fix things with Andy, so Trish is waiting at Andy’s house. He gets there and finds her going through David’s box of porn, which shocks and appalls her. She also finds some pill and assumes that it’s a rape drug for some reason.
4. She storms out, and he has to chase her on his bike, finally crashing in front of her, confessing he’s a virgin and winning her over.

Here we arrive at one of Apatow’s strangest qualities: he makes very dirty comedies that betray some bizarrely outdated conservative beliefs. In 2005, what liberated woman would be offended to find a box of porn in her new boyfriend’s apartment? And even if that could happen, why on earth is it the final escalation of this movie?

In order to trigger a final crisis, surely it would have made far more sense for Andy to invite Beth back to his house? After all…

• It makes much more sense that his friends might have a key to let themselves in.
• We get one desperate bike ride by Andy, not two, which eliminates a repeated beat.
• Keener would have a genuine reason to get upset, finding Beth there.

Shifting to Meddler mode, I can easily imagine a version that works much better:

1. Beth is in Andy’s tub, but he thinks better of sleeping with her, so he backs away only to find the guys in his apartment urging him to make it work with Trish. They quickly explain the situation to Beth and she understands.
2. The guys realize that Trish has just arrived, so they try to sneak Beth out first, but they run right into Trish and improvise different lies about who Beth is, so she figures it out.
3. Trish confronts Andy who fails to explain, and Trish drives away. He catches up and explains that all of his behavior (including almost sleeping with Beth) was driven by his insecurity over his virginity. She understands and they kiss.
4. (Meanwhile, in the course of Cal sneaking Beth out, we get a hint that they’re hitting it off.)

Wouldn’t that be better? Have a genuine conflict instead of a lame misunderstanding!

Crazy Stupid Love was a very similar movie that did a much better job with a similar scene:

• Carell again plays a 40 year old who belatedly gets some advice on how to have one-night stands, the difference being that in this version it’s after his wife leaves him. At the midpoint, Carell and his estranged wife have a long-hoped-for rapprochement as they wait for a parent-teacher conference, but then it turns out that the teacher is one of Carell’s post-breakup hook-ups, and he never called her back. They both turn on Carell, understandably enough, and he again loses hope of getting his wife back.

I remember while watching that scene how refreshing it was to see our lovelorn hero suffer a deserved humiliation, rather than the mere misunderstandings that so often occur in romantic comedies. The 40 Year Old Virgin should have had the courage to take the same tactic, rather than concocting a lame misunderstanding to motivate the climax.

Straying From the Party Line: Gentle Scenework in "The 40 Year Old Virgin"

A while ago, I proposed the idea of the “five levels of scenework”, from weakest to strongest. In the comments on this non-post, commenter “A.D.” floated the possibility that comedies tend to score lower on the scale. Once again, here’s the scale

1. The Listen-and-Accept Scene: Two characters listen to each other and accept each other’s information. They may be surprised or upset, but they don’t reject what they’re hearing as untrue. There’s no conflict, nobody does anything they didn’t intend to do, and nobody is clever.
2. The Listen-and-Dispute Scene: Two characters tell each other things, but one or both of them rejects the other’s statement, so they argue, and then leave. There’s conflict, but nobody does anything they didn’t intend to do and nobody is clever.
3. The Extract-Information-or-Action-Directly Scene: Same as above, but one of them directly convinces the other that they’re wrong and gets the other one to give them what they want. There’s conflict and one person does something they didn’t intend to do, but nobody is clever.
4. The Extract-Information-or-Action-Through-Tricks-And-Traps Scene: Same as above, but one of them tricks or traps the other one into giving up something unintentionally. There’s conflict, one person does something they didn’t intend to do, and one person is clever.
5. The Both-Try-to-Trick-Each-Other Scene: This is as tricky as it gets. There’s conflict, at least one character does something they didn’t intend to do, and both are clever. 

So let’s evaluate every dialogue scene in The 40 Year Old Virgin on this scale:

As Andy leaves his apartment with his bike, the retired black couple on their porch upstairs teases that he should get a car.	1: They have a friendly conversation (but we hear that they think he’s a loser)
Andy and Cal chat about their weekend: Cal saw a donkey sex show, Andy made an egg salad sandwich.	1: They have a friendly conversation (but we see that Cal thinks he’s a loser)
Cal, David and Jay debate asking Andy to their poker game. They ask him to play that night in the store in store.	1: They talk themselves into asking him, he’s happy to do it.
At the poker game, Andy cleans up, but when the talk turns to sex stories, the others realize that he’s a virgin.	5 He tries to deceive them, but they trap him into admitting that he’s a virgin.
Everybody at work wants to talk about it.	2: They all mock him, he accepts it, until he rejects it.
Andy flees.  David chases him, corners him, convinces Andy to come to a coffee shop and talk it over…	3: David finally convinces Andy to come to a coffee shop.
In the coffee shop, David asks how this could have not happened.  Andy agrees to go out with them.	3: David finally convinces Andy to come out with them.
They get ready to go out.  His shirt is too yellow.	2: They disagree about his shirt choice, but agree to disagree.
At the club.  Jay tells him that he has to hook up with drunk bitches.  They join a wedding party. Andy meets a frisky girl who grabs his pants and then kisses him.	1: They flirt and they’re both into it.
They drive away.  She’s drunk.  They wreck.  She throws up on him. “I’ll still have sex with you, if you want.”	3/5: He implores her to drive better, she tries to trick him affirming her insecurities in various ways.
He tells the guys about it the next day as they smash florescent bulbs.  Jay tells him he’s putting the pussy on a pedestal.  Andy won’t say pussy anymore.  You said you wouldn’t pressure.	2: They implore him to stay at it, but he rejects that advice.
Andy is told to sell to Trish. She works at the “we sell your stuff on eBay store.”	4: She traps him into accepting her number.
He gets waxed.	2: They directly goad him into doing it, he finally rejects the whole thing.
He and Cal take out a TV.  Cal tells him that he has to just ask questions.	1: He briefly rejects, then accepts the advice.
Andy hits on Elizabeth Banks by just asking questions.  It works well.  Cal tells him to follow up later.	4: He lures her in using a trick.
David brings over his box of porn, suggests masturbation.	2: Andy rejects David’s advice.
At work, they invite him out to lunch.  “We brought you a shirt.”	2: He resists them but caves.
They arrive at Date-a-Palooza. Andy tries the ask questions method again.	5: He tries to use his questions trick again and fails.  Various people lay various traps for each other.
Jay’s girlfriend Jill comes in, she found his speed-dating card. Andy picks on Jay’s hint and convinces Jill that it’s his. Later, Andy is sent out on the floor, but won’t talk to any women, so they all agree to a new plan.	5: Andy and Jill are trying to trick each other.  He succeeds.  The others agree to lay a trap for Andy.
Andy shows up for the party.  It’s just a transvestite prostitute.	4: Andy is tricked into it, sees through it instantly and leaves.
They all sit around watching Jason Bourne.  Andy tells them that’s it.	4: He traps them into no longer setting him up by threatening to let the boss know they’re stealing CDs.
Andy goes across the street to hit on Trish.  “Do you wanna go out sometime?”	1: He asks, she accepts.
Andy calls Trish and arranges a date.	1: He asks, she accepts.
Cal and David are at his house. They say that the action figures might be a problem.	3: They confront him and force him to change his behavior.
Trish knocks at the door.  His apartment is empty.  “I’m having new carpet put in tomorrow.”	4: He tricks her out of investigating.
Andy and Trish are at Benihana. She has them sing Happy Birthday for Andy.  She kisses him on the cheek.	4: She lures him into relaxing having a good time with the birthday song.
That night, they’re fooling around.  He doesn’t know how to put on a condom, which means that he goes through a whole pile. Trish’s daughter Marla and a boyfriend come in, see the pile of discarded condoms and says, “Dude, teach me.”	1: Just a big misunderstanding.  The arrival of the daughter keeps him from doing what he wanted to do, but nobody intentionally changes anybody else’s behavior.
Paula hits on him. He’s not interested.  He tells Cal and Jay that Trish has a kid. “You don’t want any baby-daddy drama.”	2: He rejects her pass, they reject his defense of Trish.
They eat at a nice restaurant.  She reveals she’s actually a grandmother. They agree to 20 dates without sex.	4: He tricks her into extending the number of sexless dates.
They’re making out when her daughters Marla and Julia come in.  He uses magic on Julia, rips off her hear.  Marla rolls her eyes.	4: He literally uses (magic) tricks to win Julia over, and even Marla to a certain extent.
Andy calls Cal and says she’s a grandmother.	1: Peaceable exchange of info.
Paula tells him that he’s being promoted to floor manager.  “The doors always open, so to speak. I’m very discreet.  But I’ll haunt your dreams.”	1: Peaceable exchange of info.
Jay talks to Kevin Hart, who wants a  “brother discount.” Andy is sent in to break it up.	3: Andy makes Hart back down.
Andy talks to Jay in the back room.  Jill broke up with him. “Why’d you cheat on her?” “Because I’m insecure, you can’t tell?”	3: I guess technically Andy gets Jay to do something he didn’t want to do (confess insecurity), but it took no effort.
Andy and Trish talk. He admits that he’s thinking about starting his own stereo store.	1: Peaceable exchange of info.
Andy is called in to help Trish: Marla wants permission to have sex and she’s locked herself in the bathroom:	3: All three confront each other until Andy coaxes Marla out.
Andy takes Marla to a sex clinic.  Marla is made fun of for being a virgin.  Andy sticks up for her by telling them that he’s a virgin too.	4: Andy feels trapped into admitting that he’s a virgin by the group.
Marla drives him home.  “I made that all up.” “Uh, no you didn’t.”	3: She confronts him and forces him to re-affirm it.
Jay shows off his ultrasound video.	2: They deny his claims about his fetus’s penis size.
Trish and Andy finish selling his stuff.  It’s the 20th date.  Andy still refuses sex and they fight.	2: Each disputes the other, but neither changes his/her mind.
Jay and Jill’s party. Andy drinks.  He runs into the bookstore girl who invites him to her place.  “Hope you have a big trunk, because I’m putting my bike in it.	1: Peaceable exchange of info.
Marla comes home to Trish and finds out they had a big fight.  She convinces her mom to seek Andy out.	3: She confronts her mom about making this work.
Andy and bookstore girl undress in her bedroom.	1: Peaceable exchange of info.
In the bathroom, bookstore girl pretends to whip him with a belt. “Wow, this is awkward.”	1: Peaceable exchange of info.
Andy leaves the bathroom.  The guys are there in the apartment. They convince him to go make it work with Trish.  Cal stays.	3: They confront him and convince him to leave.
Andy arrives home.  Trish is there. She’s freaked out about the box of porn.  She runs out.	2: They each dispute what the other has to say, neither is convinced.
He crashes into her car. He instantly confesses that he’s a virgin.	1: Peaceable exchange of info.
They get married under a gazebo.	1: Peaceable exchange of info.
They go to consummate at the hotel.  A guy is buffing the floor. Andy orders him out. They finally do it. One minute later title card.  Wanna do it again?  Two hours later title card.	3: Andy convinces the buffer to leave.  She convinces Andy to try it again.

So wow, A.D. was onto something. That’s a lot of 1s and 2s in this movie and very few 4s and 5s. In fact, it’s pretty astounding how gentle this movie is. A lot of the conflict that you would expect to find just isn’t there.

For one thing, outside of the speed dating scene, nobody ever turns Andy down (and even there he bats over 500). The rejection that he’s expecting simply fails to materialize. You would expect that each of his friend’s advice would result in a failed pass, causing him to move on to the next one, but that doesn’t happen.

• First, he tries Jay’s way (hit on drunk girls), and it works, but he backs out of the deal after she vomits on him (even though she then says “We can still have sex if you want”).
• Then he tries Cal’s way (ask questions), and that works too, but he doesn’t follow up right away with the bookstore girl.
• Then he tries what is essentially David’s way, pursuing a real relationship with Trish, and that works too. (Although, as with the previous two, he eventually gets scared off.) In the end, he has a smorgasbord awaiting him of three successful methods.

This is a movie in which the hero is his own worst enemy, and that’s fine, but it’s weird that that’s really the only source of antagonism that he encounters. Trish’s daughter Marla briefly shows some antagonism, but Andy doesn’t have to work very hard to win her over as well.

So why isn’t this more of a problem? Apatow does the remarkable: he gets us to laugh at a gentle world without any hard edges. We’re mostly laughing with and rarely laughing at. Even the biggest “laughing at” scene, the chest waxing, is notable for its benevolence. The traditional way to do this would be to amp up the harshness, so that we identify only with Andy and share his isolated suffering, but the three guys and even the waxer herself are wincing in pain for Andy with every pull. Even when the waxer finally starts giggling as she winces, it seems like she’s laughing with Andy’s imaginative swears, not at them.

Mel Brooks famously said, “Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you walk into an open sewer and die,” but that’s not Apatow’s philosophy. Instead, he gets us to say “I want to be there. I want to hang out with those guys. I wish those were my friends.” There’s still pain, awkwardness and humiliation, but never cruelty.  He isn’t cruel to his own characters and they’re never cruel to each other.  It turns out that you can be good at humor and still be good humored.