Showing posts with label showrunner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label showrunner. Show all posts

Thursday, August 25, 2022

Story 454: Creating a Fan-Favorite Franchise

            (Writer 1 sits at a kitchen table doodling in a notebook with one hand while propped up on the other; sighing, the latest doodle is “IDEA???????? L”.  Writer 2 suddenly enters the room and plops a stack of DVD covers on the table)

Writer 2: I’ve got it!  At last, I’ve got it!

Writer 1: (Straightens up in shock) Dude, I didn’t even hear the door open, how’d you get in here?!

Writer 2: We’re writing partners: our lives are forever one now.  (Pulls out a chair and sits)

Writer 1: Ummmmm….

Writer 2: So: want to hear my brilliant flash of genius?

Writer 1: (Resignedly tosses the pen aside and sits back) Sure, fine – anything would be more than the bupkis I’ve got lately.

Writer 2: Yes, we’ve both been in a bit of a dry spell since our trial-by-fire on the late-late-late-late night show –

Writer 1: (Shudders) I never want to think about that debacle ever again: it should’ve been our big break, but by the end if they hadn’t fired us I’d’ve quit.

Writer 2: The timing of that was unfortunate; however, it was a blessing in disguise in that it gave us – and by “us,” I mean “me” – time to come up with the brilliant flash of genius.

Writer 1: Oh yes, all that time to spend all my lack of money on all my bills.  And the flash of genius is…?

Writer 2: We write our own show!

Writer 1: That’s literally been the plan this whole time.  Bupkis has been the result!

Writer 2: Sorry, let me rephrase that: we write our own hit show!

Writer 2: Well yeah, everyone wants a hit show.  Reality interferes.

Writer 2: Yes, but the ones who do write a hit show basically stumble onto it by accident with talented writing and wonderful actors and fantastic cinematography and inspired music and whatever – to my knowledge, no one has actually cracked the code for deliberately creating a hit show.  Until now.

Writer 1: (Rubs tired eyes) Let me guess, you?

Writer 2: How’d you know?

Writer 1: What?!  Just – go ahead and tell me what you so cleverly deduced.

Writer 2: Gladly.  (Holds up one of the DVD covers) Remember this series?

Writer 1: Who doesn’t?

Writer 2: (Sets that down and holds up another cover) Uh-huh – and this?

Writer 1: Hated it, but yes.

Writer 2: (Sets that down and holds up another cover) And this?

Writer 1: Never even looked at my spec script for a Season 3 episode, so definitely yeah.

Writer 2: (Sets that down and holds up another cover) And, the ultimate in recent television classics, this?

Writer 1: Overrated, but yes.

Writer 2: “Overra – ”?  This was a piece of PURE ARTISTRY!

Writer 1: Artistry, pretension, tomato, to – mah- to.

Writer 2: (Through gritted teeth) Agree to disagree.  (Gently sets down the cover and straightens the newly created pile) The point is, these all contain elements of a magic formula that, when executed properly, creates that most coveted item of all in the entertainment industry.

Writer 1: Money?

Writer 2: Well, obviously, that’s the endgame – what leads to infinite amounts of that is the coveted item: Fan Obsession.

Writer 1: (Sits up straighter) Go on.

Writer 2: The strategy is simple: all we need to do is, take the best elements of these series – (Waves hands over the pile) and, um….

Writer 1: (Nods) Steal.

Writer 2: Pay homage to what makes them work so well.  If we combine enough of them and throw in one or two actual original ideas, no one will even notice the rip-offs!

Writer 1: Uh-huh.  (Starts casually sorting through the covers) And that’s it, huh?  Instant hit?

Writer 2: We-ell, that’s best-case-scenario.  We might have “Cult Favorite” status at first and nearly get cancelled several times, but the most important part is to capture fan devotion immediately.  They will be the ones powering this machine long-term, and once the studio realizes our work is at least a decade’s-long franchise they’ll practically throw the money at us.

Writer 1: (Gnaws lip) I don’t know – it sounds great in theory, but being too dependent on the fans to keep… whatever this’ll be, going, just means down the road we’ll have to start doing fan-service stories and classify the scripts as Top Secret and film misleading scenes and fake storylines and actually talk to them at conventions, and by the time the finale rolls around they’ll hate everything we do, turn on us, and curse our names.

Writer 2: Not necessarily, and even so it’ll be too late by then – we’ll already have the money!

Writer 1: You make an excellent point.

Writer 2: Great!  (Picks up Writer 1 by the elbows and tosses the latter onto the living room couch) Now, your job is to watch or rewatch all these hit shows and take lots and lots of notes – we’ll compare when you’re done.  (Brings in the DVDs, Writer 1’s notepad, and the pen, and tosses them onto the couch) These are only Season 1s, so let me know as you finish and I’ll keep supplying you with the rest.

Writer 1: But – but – but that’ll take me years!

Writer 2: (On the way out) Better start now!

 SIX MONTHS LATER

(Writer 1 and Writer 2 are seated at a park bench)

Writer 2: See!  I knew you were exaggerating.

Writer 1: (Face is pallid and there are bags under the eyes) This is the first day I’ve breathed the outdoor air in… what year is it?

Writer 2: Doesn’t matter – what are your findings?

Writer 1: (Shakily takes out a notepad that has writing all over the pages, including the margins) OK, common elements I found in each hit series….

Writer 2: Yes?

Writer 1: Number one: Grit.

Writer 2: Huh?

Writer 1: The material.  It’s gritty.  Extreme violence, rampant drug use, relatives who lethally hate each other, way too much sex that does absolutely nothing to advance the plot, exploitation of mental illness, showcasing the worst of humanity with no real suggestions for improvement –

Writer 2: Yes-yes-yes, I’ve already got all that – what else?

Writer 1: (Flips a page on the notepad) Lots of cursing.  As in, so many f-bombs.

Writer 2: Goes without saying.

Writer 1: (Drags a finger down the page) It either needs to be snowing all the time or over 100° Fahrenheit, but that can change from season-to-season or even mid-season.

Writer 2: Good, didn’t catch that one.

Writer 1: That also means we need to film on location.

Writer 2: Such as…?

Writer 1: All of them.  More as the budget increases.

Writer 2: (Nods) Yeah, that’ll finally get me my trip to Fiji, sweet.

Writer 1: (Flips another page) The leads at least have to be gorgeous – everyone else can be, you know, average-looking.

Writer 2: (Dismissively waves hand) That’s down the road – we’ll give notes to the casting director.

Writer 1: Hiring a big name ties into that, then.

Writer 2: About that: it goes against my instincts, but try not to write with anyone particular in mind, in case they’re not available or really don’t want to be in this; the whole concept’ll be ruined if we base it on someone who winds up not being there.

Writer 1: (Squeezes in a note on the crowded page) Gotcha.  OK, ummm…. (Flips another page) Ooh: there has to be a mystery introduced in the pilot that even we don’t know the answer to, but we’ll have 10 years to figure it out.  Maybe.

Writer 2: I did have something similar.  (Pulls out a notepad and flips through the pages) Ah yes: basically, get them hooked in Episode 1 on something that’ll be brought up sporadically throughout the series, then either never resolve it or resolve it in a way that leaves it as a problem for one or multiple spin-off series.

Writer 1: Didn’t even consider the possibility of spin-offs; intriguing.

Writer 2: Well, we are developing a franchise here: it can’t just end with the series finale, that’s too finite.

Writer 1: Makes sense.  What else you got?

Writer 2: Oh, let’s see…. (Flips a page) You’ll like this: two-to-three romantic pairings and/or triangles dragged out for years and years.  The fan fiction possibilities will be astronomical.

Writer 1: (Squeezes in more notes) Excellent point – fan fiction is the best-kept secret ingredient to franchise longevity.

Writer 2: I know, and I love reading the especially smutty ones with random pairings I never even thought of! 

Writer 1: I’d say you’re strange, but who am I to judge?

Writer 2: Exactly.  Well, I think we’re off to a good start here – want to get into actually writing the thing now or let this digest for a few more months?

Writer 1: Quick question: audience-wise, you want to gear this toward the 14-and-up bracket or Mature Audiences?

Writer 2: What do you think?

Writer 1: (Writes on the notepad) Mature Audiences it is.

ELEVEN YEARS LATER

(On a beach, Writer 1 and Writer 2 relax in lounge chairs watching the ocean as the sun gloriously sets in front of them)

Writer 1: You know, from here, I can almost not hear the masses typing how much we ruined our own show.

Writer 2: You knew the deal going in: in exchange for their love at the beginning, the fans eventually turn that love into hatred at the end.

Writer 1: Never quite prepared when it happens, though.

Writer 2: (Uses feet to play with the sand a bit) To be fair, I suppose character assassinating all their favorites and making multi-season struggles come to absolutely nothing when we blew up the entire fictional planet in the last frame of the series was a bit much on our part.

Writer 1: Yeah – guess we went a little overboard there.  I was so focused on the other hit shows’ beginnings and prime years that I forgot to pay closer attention to the few endings people were sort-of happy with.

Writer 2: I share the blame in that as well.  Typical fatal flaw of success: not knowing how to end a good thing.

Writer 1: Hm.  (Stares at the crashing ocean waves for a few moments before turning back to Writer 2) We should write a satisfying ending before starting our next hit series, then.

Writer 2: Waaaaay ahead of you.

Thursday, April 16, 2020

Story 337: Television Test Studio


           (In an office, a television studio executive and an assistant are seated at a desk across from a potential showrunner)
          Showrunner: Thank you so much for meeting with me today – I’m very excited to pitch this series to you.
            Executive: Yes, we can tell.  The premise does sound intriguing, so I, too, am excited about all the money we stand to make off of this thing.
            Showrunner: Well, this has been a labor of love for the past 10 years of my life –
            Executive: None of that matters if no one watches past the first 10 minutes of Episode 1; now pitch it to me.
       Showrunner: [Pitches high-concept, epically worldbuilt, complexly characterized, subtly philosophical, soulfully resounding series]
            Executive: (Leaning back with wide-open eyes) Wow.
            Showrunner: You’re darn right “Wow”: this whole thing’ll blow everyone’s minds and change the landscape of television forever, again.  So, yeah, that’s how the series ends; I think it should take about 15 episodes to tell the story properly.
          Executive: Whoa-whoa-whoa, back up a second there; all that was just for one season?
           Showrunner: Well, yeah; I mean, it’s a pretty tight story that can be told in a short period of time – wouldn’t want to end on a cliffhanger and get cancelled, am-I-right?
            Executive: With that kind of attitude, you will be!
            Showrunner: Oh.  OK, I guess you could split the series over two seasons with about seven or eight episodes each.
          Executive: With all due respect to our cousins across the pond – what do you think this is, British broadcasting?!
            Showrunner: Ummm, sooo, what exactly do you want?       
            Executive: Five seasons minimum.
            Showrunner: (Laughs hysterically, then stops abruptly) Oh, you’re serious?
            Executive: I’d actually prefer the series to be extended indefinitely, but my experience in this business has taught me to manage my expectations.
            Showrunner: But – but – that’s completely unsustainable!  Do you know how long it took me to lovingly craft this exquisite work of art?!
            Executive: Ten years, and yet I don’t care: either figure out how to stretch the story out over five seasons of 20-plus episodes each using however many clip shows you need, or figure out what shenanigans the characters can repetitively get into after the ending you currently have.  Find a way to make it work, or you have no show.
            Showrunner: (Pulls hair in despair) I can’t just add to a finished story; it’s complete as it is now!
           Executive: Tell that to the sponsors – they’re not gonna invest in a one-off that builds an audience of consumers just to drop off suddenly in less than a year.  The viewers will tell you the same: I can see the comments now on how they wasted their precious leisure time and brain power on an immersive fantasy world and realistic characters that all up and vanished when one measly season’s over.  The fan fiction alone will eat you alive.
          Showrunner: But the story is over, don’t you get it?!  Anything past that will be a disgusting shadow of its former glory!
           Executive: This is TV – nothing is ever over.  You want it to end on your terms, you should’ve written a novel.
            Showrunner: But none of the cool people I want as fans would read it!
            Assistant: If I may interject?
            Executive: Oh, forgot you were here; go ahead.
            Assistant: This show may be the perfect opportunity to use the Test Studio.
            Executive: Oh, right, forgot that was here, too.  (To Showrunner) Interested?
            Showrunner: I have no idea what you’re talking about.
          Executive: You heard in the news about the mini-black hole discovered right here on Earth recently, yes?
            Showrunner: Yeah, it’s messed up literally everything – so?
            Executive: Well, our studio bought it and –
            Showrunner: What?!
            Assistant: We decided to utilize it to create a Television Test Studio, sort of like a test kitchen without the disastrous consequences.  (Takes out a computer tablet and displays convoluted diagrams) Turns out the black hole leads to an alternate universe with an Earth just like ours in every way, except not everyone there’s left-handed for some reason.
            Executive: It’s a real drag.
           Assistant: So, we can produce your show on that Earth for five seasons and judge the reactions of that audience to see if it would work here, without any of the risk or potential loss of profit on this end.
          Showrunner: (Stares at the diagrams) This is a life-altering, universe-impacting discovery, and you’re using it to test a TV show?!
            Executive: I know, isn’t it great?!  It’ll save us a fortune!
            Assistant: And time: there’s some kind of temporal dilation once you cross the event horizon, so we can do the five years over there and then come back here with extremely minimal loss of time on this end.
            Showrunner: But we’d get older!
            Assistant: Over there, yeah, but we’d supposedly get the years back when we come over here again, kind of like changing time zones or what-not.
            Showrunner: I don’t think that’s how it works.
            Assistant: What can I tell you: I don’t science, I television.
            Executive: So, are you in?
            Showrunner: I don’t know, this is all so weird….
            Executive: You want your series baby see the light of day or not?
            Showrunner: Where do I sign?

FIVE YEARS LATER

        (In an Alternate Earth office, Executive and Assistant are seated at a desk across from Showrunner)
            Executive: So!  Reviews for last night’s episode are in.
            Showrunner: (Slumped in the seat) I know, and I don’t want to read them.
            Executive: Oh come on, it’s gotta be a little flattering to read all those embittered fans saying you’ve lost your way – means they loved you at some point!
            Showrunner: They called the show a dumpster fire and wondered how I could’ve written such a great first season if all the others are such obvious money-grabs!
            Executive: Yes, but those same people still give us their money to watch it, so that’s really on them.
          Showrunner: They said the show should’ve ended after Season 1!  I told you this would happen – they hate it, and now they hate me, not you!
          Executive: Calm yourself: they’re still buying the other seasons en masse; I fail to see why you’re letting a few trolls get you down.
            Showrunner: They’re the same fans who loved Season 1!
            Executive: Audiences can be a fickle crew.
         Showrunner: And you even lost money when you made me write Season 3 to take place entirely in the characters’ minds!  The CGI was eye-bleedingly terrible, and all the actors wanted higher salaries because they were practically doing one-person shows!  In pantomime!
          Executive: Yes, I did hate giving into the divas, but we’d’ve lost half the audience if any of those guys had walked out before we got a chance to kill them off between seasons.
           Showrunner: That’s another thing!  You knew the lead villain was supposed to die at the end of Season 1 because the story was over, but you said the audience loved him too much so I had to keep resurrecting him even though it made no sense!  The actor’s been begging me to kill the character for years because he can’t make it believable anymore!
            Executive: Well, then he clearly does not take his craft seriously.
            Showrunner: Whatever.  Series finale is next week and it can’t come soon enough; I just won't read anything about how much everyone hated it, that’s all.
           Executive: Yeah, about that: the show’s still trending in the top 10, so I’d like at least two more seasons to maximize our returns – three, if I can be greedy.
            Showrunner: (Stares in horror) It has been bled beyond dry.  The critics are right: I have been making this up as I go along, for years!
            Executive: True, but they don’t need to have that theory confirmed, do they?
          Showrunner: What am I gonna do with these characters for another 20 episodes?!  They’ve already saved the world 100 times, plus they’ve all hooked up with each other and had 15 babies with three more on the way; what’s next, they colonize Mars?!
            Executive: (Starts writing on a notepad) Ooh, that’s a great idea –
           Showrunner: (Slams hand on the desk) No!  No-no-no!  You’ve already warped my beautiful creation into an unrecognizable mass of rubbish; this madness ends now!
            Assistant: If I may interject?
            Executive: Oh, sorry, forgot you were here; go ahead.
           Assistant: I think our testing phase is complete and has effectively demonstrated that this show should only have one season.
          Executive: Oh, right, also forgot that’s what we’ve been doing here.  (To Showrunner) All right, you win: the viewers have clearly spoken and want just the one perfect season, so we’ll go back to our universe now and go do that.
            Showrunner: (Bleary-eyed) I don’t even remember why we came here.

APPROXIMATELY FOUR YEARS EARLIER

        (In the Prime Earth office, Executive and Assistant are seated at a desk across from Showrunner)
            Executive: Well, well, well!  It’s not often that I’m wrong, but I do admit when I am – the show was a smashing success, the viewers are sad that it’s over but continue to rave about how awesome it was, and our ratings have never been higher, all thanks to you!
            Showrunner: Wow.  Thank you for saying that: this past year’s been an immense relief, let me tell you, and fulfilling on a deep, personal level, if I might add.
            Executive: I wish you wouldn’t.
            Assistant: If I may interject?
            Executive: You always do.
          Assistant: Now that this show is completely over, we have been looking at the possibility of at least 10 spin-offs –
            (Showrunner face plants onto the desk)
            Executive: Oh, don’t be so glum – we have a whole alternate universe Test Studio to try them out in first!