The Time Zone Shuffle
I have returned from the land of nose jobs and snow jobs and I am the better for it. Other than the fact that I still seem to be on Pacific Time. Especially in the mornings. At least that's my story for now.
The Sitcom Writer's Room Workshop was a blast. There's nothing like being trapped in a boardroom with four strangers, trying to hammer out a ten page scene, everyone talking over each other trying to get their jokes in the script, to make you really appreciate the solitude of writing a play or novel. Christina Ferguson has a wonderful account of the weekend here. So does R. A. Porter.
As a writer I'm used to doing my own thing. By that I mean, taking my sweet-ass time to complete even the simplest of projects. I obviously haven't developed any better discipline since my high school book report days. So part of the reason I wanted to attend this workshop was to see if I could actually work with other like-minded folk, in a deadline enviornment, without blowing a major gasket.
The basic gist of the workshop was that we were shown a scene from a sitcom. (Think King of Queens or Everybody Loves Raymond) It was in need of some pretty extensive work. We were given notes from "The Studio" and "The Network". Notes that often conflicted each other. Then we were sent off to a room and were told we had the night to fix it. The only deadline was that it had to be done before 6am the next day so they'd have time to get it printed out.
We hit the boardroom around three or so and, being the cocky s.o.b. that I am, I figured we'd have things wrapped up no later than seven or eight. Well, I thought that until everyone started talking. At the same time. With different ideas about how the scene should go.
It was easy to fall into the trap of wanting to completely blow the scene up and re-write it as some kick-ass, edgy piece that would make all the other teams, and Ken, ooh and aah at our well honed writing skills. We spent a good two hours debating whether to do that or to just rewrite the scene to make it work. "What if Bob (the husband) is taking yoga lessons to spice up their sex life?" "What if it's a tantric sex studio?" "What if, instead of being a bimbo, Nicole is mentally retarded?" (Like there's a difference there.)
Luckily, more rational heads prevailed and we decided to stick with the scene as it existed and just reworked it so that it made sense and punched up the jokes. I think our team did a pretty good job in the end. Though we didn't finish until eleven o'clock and me, being naive, assumed that we were the last ones to turn it in. We were first. The final group didn't finish until sometime around 4:30am.
We watched the scenes the next morning and it was fun to see what everyone did with it. I have to admit that I was very pleased with how well our scene went over. Especially after I overheard one of the participants say "I heard one group finised at eleven. I bet their's is going to be shit."
After that we broke for lunch and then returned to do another polish on the scene. And then we were treated to a panel discussion with some of the writers responsible for making my baby sitter so damn engaging. Ken's writing partner David Isaacs (The team that worked on MASH, Taxi, Cheers, Fraiser), Sam Simon (The man credited with making the Simpsons what they are today, Taxi, The Drew Carey Show), Marley Sims (Home Improvement, Sabrina the Teenage Witch), Fred Rubin (Night Court, Archie Bunker's Place, Webster) and, of course, Ken.
I could have sat and listened to these guys talk shop all day. Especially when they were telling war stories about dealing with Mary Tyler Moore or answering hate mail from viewers or realizing they were on a stinker of show and just writing to entertain each other. I don't think television is the same place it was back in the late 70s and 80s. But man would it have been cool to have been a writer in one of the rooms with those cats. I think it was Sam who said something like "There isn't a show we watch together as a country anymore" and that made me a little sad.
I remember watching the final episode of MASH with my whole family and crying when it was over. Millions of people were doing the exact same thing at the exact same time. A shared experience. Other than the Super Bowl and The Oscars when does that happen? It would be amazing to be part of such a show, but I think the days of that happening are long gone.
I went to this workshop to see if I would even like being in a writer's room. I think it would be a good time, as long as there weren't too many assholes in the bunch. Which, considering it's LA, is a tall order. But I also took away from the panel discussion that there is an expiration date on writers. At least staff writers. Just like actors and actresses. They want the next young thing. Not some middle-aged person who doesn't know who Hannah Montana is. That's a little bubble-bursting to think about.
In the end, what I'm looking for is a community of creative folks to make memories with. Whether it's writing a sitcom or a play or sketch show. Because I love the writing. I love creating a world and people that didn't exist before. But I also really enjoy the process. The sitting around and cracking each other up that comes with it. And I've already got a pretty decent community right here in Chicago.
Of course, if Hollywood comes calling I will bolt faster than you can say "Mid Season Replacement". That's the kind of loyal friend I am.