The Ultimate Pilot Checklist: Master of None

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.

Total Score: 112/128

Guest Post About Hero Identification on Blabbermouth

Hi guys, for today’s post, just click over to Linda Epstein’s fine writing site The Blabbermouth, where I write about the #1 reason that readers fail to identify with heroes (and there’s a picture of me too!) Linda knew I had a book coming out so she invited me to guest post, and I jumped at the chance.

Pilot Checklist v4 is Up (And New Download Links!)

This is kind of a cheat, because it’s not that different from v3, but I eliminated four less-than-useful questions that had similarly been eliminated from the Story Checklist. ( I didn’t combine the questions that had been combined on the other checklist though). This checklist isn’t in the book, and I suppose it could be the basis of its own book at some point if there’s clamor for a sequel. I thought about cutting all the TV examples out of the book and saving those to accompany this checklist in a follow-up TV book, but I didn’t want to create a lot more work for myself.

So check it out! I also updated the download link for both the story checklist and the pilot checklist if you want to play along at home!

Tomorrow: Something cool!

Rulebook Casefile: Closing an Empathy Hole and Opening Up a Motivation Hole in Chinatown

One thing I talked about before (and talk about more in my book) is the difference between empathy holes, motivation holes and plot holes and the problems you get into when you dig one hole to fill another. As I make more clear in my book, those holes should be prioritized in that order. All empathy holes must be filled, even if it means digging a motivation hole, and so on.

Chinatown is a good example. As I said before, the version of the script that’s online comes from late in the revision process, but there are a few key differences. One of these explains one of the problems I had with Jake’s muddy motivation.

In the finished film, it’s never clear if Jake is really working for Noah Cross or not. He kind of just sits there and listens as Cross tries to hire him to find Catherine, then changes the subject. Finally, he does call Cross to tell him he found the girl, but the position of that scene changed between script and screen.

In both versions, he finds the glasses, assumes that they’re Hollis’s, and assumes that Evelyn is the murderer. In the finished film, he then goes and confronts Evelyn immediately, who tells him the truth about her father, then points out that the glasses can’t be Hollis’s. He then arranges for Evelyn to leave the country, but before he actually gets her on the boat, he decides to call up Cross and tell him to come over because he’s found the girl ...but he’s only doing so in order to confront Cross about being the murderer.

This brings up the huge question: why choose to confront Cross at this inopportune moment? Why not wait a few hours until Evelyn had safely gotten away? It’s a huge mistake on Jake’s part (and the whole reason for the unhappy ending) albeit one I didn’t notice until watching the movie twice in a row.

Well, it turns out that this made more sense in the script. In the script, he calls up Cross before he confronts Evelyn and he genuinely intends to hand the girl over in return for a payday. By the time he figures out that Cross is the actual killer, Cross is already on his way over, and has to change plans and confront him instead.

It’s easy to see why this was changed. If he genuinely takes the job from Cross, and tries to hand the girl over for cash, even if he thinks Evelyn is guilty at the time, then we lose too much empathy for Jake. If, on the other hand, he calls up Cross just to fake him out and confront him, we like him a lot better.

But once they made this change, it no longer made sense for Jake to take this moment to make this confrontation. They could have let their changes snowball and, having filled this empathy hole, continued on to fill the motivation hole they had just dug, but that would have necessitated bigger changes, because then it would be harder to bring all the characters together for the finale. Instead, they left the scene where it was. It makes no sense, and makes Jake hugely responsible for the unhappy ending, but it’s better than having an empathy hole. They just figured most people wouldn’t notice Jake’s huge error of bad timing, and they were mostly right.

Here’s the original scene:

Rulebook Casefile: Thematic Details Throughout “Chinatown”

The Chinatown script went through a million changes, but the version that’s most readily available online is pretty similar to the final version, with a few notable changes. The biggest difference is that the villain is still named Julian Cross, not Noah Cross.

I talked before about how it’s good to go back when you’re almost done and tie more details into the theme, and this is a prime example. Not only did the biblical Noah survive the flood (just as Cross doesn’t care if a dam will break) but he also curses his son for seeing him in his drunken nakedness (just as Cross will doom his daughter after molesting her.) (Maybe the second one is a stretch on my part, but it fits.)

Indeed, water is everywhere in this screenplay:

• Jake’s first client Curly is a fisherman.
• The whole city is obsessed with the drought and the proposal from the department of Water and Power for building a new dam.
• When Jake is in a barbershop, a car overheats outside.
• Hollis takes Catherine rowing through Echo Park, causing Jake to say, “Water again.”
• Jake visits the orange growers and finds out that the Water and Power department has actually been poisoning their wells. When they shoot at him, it bursts his car’s radiator.
• Noah Cross runs a fisherman’s club, and the club sponsors the old folks’ home where the unwitting land owners live.
• Jake decides to get Evelyn and Catherine out of town on Curly’s boat.

That’s a lot of water, but I didn’t consciously notice most of these until I went looking for them.  The goal is for the theme to be omnipresent but not oppressive, and this screenplay accomplishes that admirably.

(I'm using “theme” more broadly here than I usually do, referring not just to the good vs. good dilemma, but to the “theme of water”, but if we stick to my original theme, “build the future vs. honor the past”, then water plays a strong part on both sides of that equation.)

Rulebook Casefile: How Does Chinatown Get Away with 73 Loose Ends?

In the checklist, I recommend that it’s good to leave some questions unresolved, because the audience won’t mind and it actually makes your story seem deeper. Chinatown is surely the ultimate example of that. Below, I’ve listed a whopping 73 unanswered questions. For some of these questions, we can supply our own speculative answers, but some of them would seem to have no possible satisfactory answer. Let’s take a look at them:

Questions

• What if Hollis, instead of spending the night on the beach, had gone home? Wouldn’t that have given away the whole plan, since Jake would have seen him with his real wife? Why go to this elaborate deception? How did they think they would get away with it: Surely everyone involved (Jake, Evelyn, Hollis) would raise a stink after the story ran in the papers? How could they have been sure that none of them would go to the press to refute the story?
• Was Hollis really having an affair with Catherine, or was he just being fatherly? If it’s the latter, how could the conspirators have been sure that he would engage in fatherly affection that would just so happen to look like an affair to Jake and the papers?
• If Cross has hired killers on his payroll, and he was willing to kill Hollis, why not just do that, which would have been much easier and far less likely to raise suspicion? What did Cross hope to accomplish with this plan? Get Hollis fired? Get him to commit suicide? Just discredit him long enough to win the vote? Would the public change their opinion of the dam based on this scandal?
• What’s up with the three addresses? Hollis and Evelyn have their nice house, then there’s the other house where Catherine has been stashed. Whose house is that? Who usually lives there? Then there’s the address where Hollis is photographed with Catherine. Whose apartment is that? Who usually lives there?
• How much time passes in the section of the movie between the confrontation with the real Evelyn and the discovery of Hollis’s death? Is it all one day, as it seems? If so, at what point is Hollis killed? Is he dead by the time the story hits the papers or due to an argument after it happens? Did Cross go there to kill him or was it a crime of passion? Where was Evelyn when the killing happened?
• Why does Jake try to find Hollis? To get him to drop the suit? To find out the truth? To apologize? If it’s the first, why does he keep looking for him after Evelyn has dropped the suit?
• Given what we later learn, Hollis seems to have been killed the night before Jake visits his office, if not earlier, so why does his secretary imply that he just stepped out for lunch? Did someone tell her to say that? To what end? Why does Yelburton then tell snoopy Jake that Hollis wouldn’t cheat if he was the one who created this whole elaborate scheme just to convince Jake that Hollis was cheating?
• Did Yelburton personally hire Ira Sessions to hire Gittes? Who is Sessions and how did they find her?
• Was Hollis killed for saying the dam would burst or to cover up the land scheme? Is the dam actually in danger of bursting, or did Hollis just say that because he knew what they were really up to? If not, do the schemers care that the dam at the center of their massive irrigation scheme might burst?
• After Jake discovers that Hollis is dead, what motive does he have to keep investigating? Why visit the morgue?
• Why are Mulvihill and the man with the knife at the reservoir that night?
• Jake says he wants to get the big boys making the pay-offs. How? What will he do to them? What standing does he have for a personal lawsuit? Is he collecting evidence to hand over to the cops? Does he just want to expose them to the papers as a public-spirited gesture? Does he intend to extort hush money?
• Who asked for the restaurant meeting between Jake and Evelyn? He later seems unaware of Cross’s role in all this, so what inspires him to ask about the C in her name? Why should Evelyn hire him if he’s already doing the job for free?
• Why does Jake go to meet with Cross? What was the pretense for the meeting? What is he hoping to find out?  (He asks almost no questions.) Jake confirms that the “mistress” is missing, but when did he find that out?
• Why does Jake go to check on some orange groves at this point?
• Why are Mulvihill and the man with the knife at the old folks home? Surely there hasn’t been time for them to have been called out there, given that it’s out of town.
• Who calls Jake in the night to try to get him to come visit Ida Sessions? If it’s the cops (as is implied later) why would they do that? Surely not if they think he did it (because then he would know better)? Are they trying to frame him for the murder? Why? Who killed Ida Sessions? Why? Why did Ida know so much about the conspiracy that she understood that the man in the obituary column was one of the land buyers? It appears that she’s just an actress they hired for the part (and prostitute? It’s unclear what she means when she says that she’s a working girl) so why give her such a complete picture of the conspiracy?
• What did Jake think would happen with when he confronted Cross? What was his goal? Get Cross to turn himself in? Jake is unarmed, has no operatives there, hasn’t called the police, and has every reason to assume that Cross might bring his armed help.
• What is Jake’s plan when he takes Cross and Mullvahill to the girl?
• How do the police find the address in Chinatown? Did they follow his operatives?

So how does the movie get away with all this confusion? I think that part of the answer lies in the power of total point-of-view identification. Jake is in every single scene in the movie, and a large percentage of the shots are over his shoulder. If the audience is totally bonded to a hero’s POV, we’ll accept his perspective and only his perspective on what’s going on. If he’s not worried about it, we’re not worried about it. It doesn’t matter if the movie makes sense to us, it only has to make sense to Jake, and apparently it does, although, in retrospect, it’s hard to figure out what he was really thinking half the time.

It’s also interesting that the script originally had voiceover, which might have explained much of this, but Polansky made Towne cut it out. You might think that voiceover would have strengthened our bond to Jake, but I think it would have actually weakened it, because it would have made all of these plot holes obvious. It would have implied that Jake had some perspective on what’s going on, which would have encouraged us to get our own perspective. Without the voiceover, we’re just watching him take it all in and try to process it in real time, so we do the same, without ever taking a step back and asking “Wait, what about…?”

So yes, incredibly, all of these loose ends do indeed strengthen and deepen the movie, at least upon first viewing, and don’t cause a big problem for the viewer. The movie feels satisfyingly complex: deep, dark and mysterious. Before analyzing the movie here, I had seen it several times, and each time, I ended up hopelessly confused, but blamed myself for that and assumed that, if I ever watched the movie twice in a row, it would all brilliantly come together. Well, this time I finally watched it twice in a row, and realized that no, actually, it makes very little sense. But that’s a high standard to hold any story to. It works for individual viewings, and that’s all we can ask.

Straying from the Party Line: Jake's Muddy Motivation in “Chinatown”

What is Jake’s motivation in Chinatown? In a first viewing of the movie, it seems fairly clear: At first he wants to catch Hollis Mulwray cheating, then he wants to find out what was really going on. But to what end? Once you start asking that question, more and more questions arise. Let’s break down his goals / motivations in every section of the movie:

1:57 In the first scene, obviously, he’s finishing up his work for Curly

• Presents photos to Curly

3:38 Then we get seven scenes of working for the fake Mrs. Mulwray, trying to catch her “husband” cheating.

• Gets hired by fake Mrs. Mulwray
• Visits Water Board hearing
• Follows Hollis to dry riverbed, where he sees him speak to a boy on horseback.
• Jake then follow Hollis to the ocean. Hollis stays on the beach all night.
• Jake is at the office the next day, looks at photos of Hollis arguing with Cross, gets call from one of his operatives.
• Takes photos of Hollis and “mistress” rowing at Echo Park
• Takes photos of them at an apartment.

16:20 Then we get two scenes dealing with aftermath of that case

• In barbershop after story breaks, insulted by other customer
• Back at the office, the real Evelyn Mulwray says she’ll sue him.

20:37 So what does Jake do now? Well, it’s not clear what he intends to do. All we can tell is that he starts trying to meet with Hollis...

• Stops by Hollis’s office, told he’s just gone out to lunch, snoops around.
• Jake is escorted into Yelburton’s office, where he asks questions.
• On the way out, he finds out Mulvihill is working as a thug for Yelburton.
• Jake goes out to the Mulwrays’ house. He sees the eyeglasses in the pond but doesn’t realize what they are. There’s no Hollis, but Evelyn is there and suddenly drops the lawsuit. She tells Jake he can find her husband at a reservoir.
• At the reservoir, Jake is there when the cops find Hollis’s dead body.

33:25 Okay, so Jake clearly can’t meet with Hollis. What is his goal now? We have no idea. Why doesn’t he simply go home? Why does he go to the coroner’s? For the next eleven scenes (26 minutes of screentime) Jake has no clear motivation:

• With Evelyn at the coroners. The police ask her questions. To shield her from their scrutiny, Jake pretends that she was the one who hired him.
• Outside the morgue, she thanks him and says she’ll pay him to back that up. She leaves.
• Jake goes back inside the morgue for some reason. He finds out more about Hollis and also a dead bum, drowned in a dry river bed.
• Jake goes out to the river bed, speaks to the boy on horseback about water dumping.
• Jake goes back to reservoir at night. Mulvihill and a man with a knife are there (why?) Jake gets his nose cut.
• Back in his office, Jake is all bandaged up and finally tries to explain to his operative what he wants: “I want the big boys that are making the payoffs” “Then what?” “Sue the shit out of them” So he’s been putting together a lawsuit this whole time? As one of his operatives responds, “Sue people like that, they’re likely to be having dinner with the judge who’s trying the suit.” Jake never gets to explain, because Ida Sessions (the fake Mrs. Mulwray) calls, but won’t meet, just tells him to check the obituaries.
• Then he’s at a restaurant with Evelyn for some reason. He tells her the check wasn’t good enough, because he thinks she’s hiding something. Asks about her maiden name for some reason and finds out it’s Cross.
• Their conversation continues outside. She correctly points out, “There’s nothing more to say.” He responds, “It seems like half the city is trying to cover it up and that’s fine by me.” So why does the story continue?
• And yet he goes back to Yelburton’s office, waits outside, sees picture of Noah and Hollis, finds out history of the water board.
• Inside office. Accuses Yelburton of hiring fake Mrs. Mulwray. What? Why? How?
• Returning to his office, he find Evelyn there, and she hires him to find out who killed her husband. He finds out more about Cross.

59:58 So now he finally has a client, but wait, in the next scene he takes on another client (or at least doesn’t say he’s not taking the case) so now he’s working for Cross as well (despite the fact that the two clients have conflicting interests)

• Meets with Cross. Cross hires him to find Hollis’s missing mistress. Leaves saying he has to check on some orange groves. What? Why? Where did that come from?
• Hall of records. Finds out about recent escrow sales of all the groves.
• Orange groves, gets shot at and knocked out by angry growers.
• Evelyn wakes him up. They called his employer.
• Drives away with Evelyn. Jake has figured most of it out. Makes connection between obit and the land sales.
• Stop by rest home. Find that old people own the land, don’t know it. Attacked again by Mulvihill and the man with the knife, gets away with Evelyn.
• Her house. She treats his wound, they have sex, discuss his time in Chinatown, she gets a call, has to go. Tells him her father may have killed Hollis.

129:23 So now we get another shift, because Jake instantly decides that she’s some sort of bad guy and starts to follow her. But if she’s his client, whose interest is he now serving? Does he value his contract with Cross over his contract with her? That seems unlikely.

• Jake runs out and breaks her taillight before she goes,
• then follows her to…
• Another house. Catherine is there, drugged.
• Evelyn comes out to her car but Jake is there. He accuses her of killing her husband (the murder, you’ll recall, that she hired him to solve.) He threatens to call the cops. Evelyn says Catherine’s her sister, implies there was no affair. Gittes is satisfied, agrees not to call cops, leaves.

135:29 So now, once again, the movie is basically over. Surely his contract with Evelyn is now void, as there’s no longer any trust between them, and he doesn’t call Cross with the information of where Catherine is, so he seems to have abandoned that contract as well. He’s solved the mystery of the conspiracy, but there’s little he can do about it. Essentially, the movie starts up again, when...

• In the night, someone calls Jake saying Ida Sessions wants to see him. He writes down address and goes back to sleep.
• Goes out in the morning. Finds her dead. Cops are hiding there. They try to arrest him and imply that they’ll arrest Evelyn, though it’s not clear what the charges would be in either case. It seems as if the police were the ones who called him, but it’s unclear why. He tries to explain some but not all of what’s going on.

1:44:40 So now he has a new goal, trying to protect Evelyn from the police.

• He takes them to the ocean to show them where the water is being dumped. They say it’s just runoff. Have your client in my office in two hours.
• Jake goes to the main Mulwray house, presumably to warn Evelyn about the police. It’s being packed up. He finds the glasses in the pool, and evidently concludes that Evelyn killed her husband after all.

1:47:16 So now his goal is to once again pin it on Evelyn. And again we ask, to what end? Whose interest is he serving?

• He goes to the house where Evelyn is holding Catherine. He finds them packing up too, calls cops to come there and arrest Evelyn, presents the glasses, accuses her of the crime, and finally gets the truth about Catherine. He seems to regret calling the cops and hustles Evelyn and Catherine out the door, telling them he’ll meet them in Chinatown.

1:54:10 So now his goal is to once again protect Evelyn from the police

• The police arrive at the house. He says that Evelyn left for her maid’s house, offers to take the cops there.
• He takes them to Curly’s house instead, insists on going in first, flees out the back with Curly.
• The Mulwrays’ main house: Jake gives their luggage to Curly and arranges for Curly to meet them in Chinatown that evening and take the women to Mexico on his boat.

2:00:00 So now he’s all set, but he inexplicably chooses this moment and this place to accuse Noah Cross of the murders, without any back-up from his operatives or the cops, and without any plan for arresting Cross. 

• Calls Cross, tells him he’s found the girl.
• Cross comes, Jake confronts him with the glasses. Cross admits all, has Mulvihill come out with a gun to claim the glasses. Cross insists on being taken to the women.

2:03:53 So now what’s Jake’s goal in the final scene? He just faked out the police by taking them to the wrong address, but it seems that he can’t or won’t do that with Cross, so he takes him where he wants to go. Does Jake have some scheme to get out of handing them over to Cross? We never find out.

• Takes Cross and Mulvihill to where the girl is. The police are there and they arrested his operatives. They arrest Jake as he tries to explain. Evelyn, Catherine and Curly try to sneak out but Cross spots them and tries to grab Catherine. Evelyn pulls a gun, shoots Cross, and tries to get away with Catherine, but police shoot at her fleeing car and kill her. The police let everybody go and Cross claims Catherine.

So you put all this together and what do you have? Jake is constantly acting against his own self-interest and even against the interest of his clients. Whose interest does it serve when he tries, twice, to nail Evelyn for killing her husband? She’s the client! In the end, Jake’s actions aren’t those of a P.I., they’re those of a cop, serving the public interest. His actions only make sense if they’re leading up to an arrest: The idea that he’s going to sue the conspirators makes no sense. All that he can logically do with the evidence he’s collected is try to have them arrested. Likewise, he sure seems like he wants to arrest Evelyn, and later Cross, for the murder of Hollis, despite the fact he has no authority or ability to do so, and no one wants him to do it.

Jake affects the demeanor of an ultra-cynical gumshoe-for-hire, and a first viewing of the movie seems to back that up, but if you actually try to follow his logic, it could not be less cynical or self-serving.  Ultimately, the movie successfully plays it two ways: It feels appealingly gritty and grimy, but it goes down easy because that grit is only superficial and hides a very idealistic core. Ironically, this duality makes the movie truly cynical.

Tuesday: I dive deeper into some of those unanswered questions the movie leaves you with (75 of them!)

Rulebook Casefile: Jake’s Extreme Resourcefulness in “Chinatown”

We previous looked at another character with extreme resourcefulness: Jason Bourne. Bourne is a nice guy, but because of his memory problems, he doesn’t have enough of a personality to be fully likeable, so the filmmakers made up for it by having him be extra resourceful. We admire the resourcefulness so much that we don’t mind the lack of personality.

Jake Gittes, on the other hand, has lots of personality, it’s just not very likeable. Not only is he surly and cynical, his fatalism borders on passivity (he believes in caring “as little as possible”), which is never an appealing quality in a character. Once again, the filmmakers overcome these barriers to empathy by having the character be delightfully resourceful:

• Jake gets tired of waiting for Hollis Mulwray to leave the beach, so he reaches in his glove compartment where he has a bunch of cheap pocketwatches. He lays one behind one of Hollis’s tires and goes home. In the morning, he has one of his operatives fetch the smashed watch, which shows him which time Hollis left.
• When Jake visits the new water commissioner Yelburton, he asks for his card. Later, Jakes wants to get past a police cordon into a reservoir, so he takes out the card and tells the officer that he’s Yelburton. The officer apologetically ushers him through.
• Jake isn’t allowed to check out a book showing land sales, so he asks for a ruler instead, holds it against the page and coughs while he tears the page out of the book.
• Jake wants to see the list of residents at the rest home, so he pretends that he wants to look it over to make sure no Jews are there. When that fails, he makes an excuse to wander around until he sees an activities board with the names on it.
• Jake wants to follow Evelyn’s car easily at night, so he rushes out first and breaks one of her taillights.
• He tells the police that he’s leading them to Evelyn at her maid’s house, but he instead leads them to Curly’s house, where he sneaks out the back.
• He wants to confirm that the glasses are Cross’s, so he asks Cross to read something in bad light, forcing Cross to take out another pair of reading glasses, which match.

Audiences go crazy for this sort of this sort of clever tradecraft. As I said in that piece, many of these things feel like “news we can use”: cool things we can mimic ourselves to be cooler, more successful people. They don’t so much build identification with the hero, but they turn the hero into someone we aspire to be, which is almost as good.