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ОглавлениеCHAPTER TWO
THE COMEDIC IDEA
A.K.A. THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING
INAPPROPRIATE A.K.A. THE BLUES
BROTHERS ARE NOT ROLE MODELS
The room was filling with suits. Lot of suits. It was a pitch meeting. The most important one of our new career. We were at Universal to pitch our take on the movie version of Archie. The studio executive, Carr, had championed us. But now we had to win over the other executives and the producers and… there were a lot of them.
I think there were nine people in the room.
Everyone was looking at us to make them laugh and to tell them a story.
I looked around the quiet room and said: “I’m very confused by all these people here. I’m not sure whose ass I should be kissing right now.”
HUGE LAUGH.
It was the inappropriate thing to say at a meeting and I am convinced it was one of the reasons we got the job.
So what does “being inappropriate” mean?
Did you ever fart during dinner?
Did you ever laugh at a funeral?
Did you ever tell a woman that pregnancy makes her look radiant only to have her tell you she is not pregnant?
If conflict is the lifeblood of drama, inappropriate behavior is the lifeblood of comedy.
Scholars have studied commedia dell’arte and the comedies of Shakespeare (he wrote some good ones). Inside the comedy blockbusters of those days, you will find some of the comedic plot devices found in screenplays today: deception, mistaken identity, the ongoing battle of the sexes, guys in drag, gals in drag. All of these devices (and we will discuss more as the book goes on) come from the same pot.
There are three main ingredients in your comedic blockbuster recipe:
INAPPROPRIATE GOAL
INAPPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR
INAPPROPRIATE DIALOGUE
By definition, inappropriate means not suitable for a particular situation.
We’re going to cover behavior and dialogue in the next section (characters). Right now, to build that big comedy blockbuster idea, let’s focus on the inappropriate goal.
THE INAPPROPRIATE GOAL
Every movie can be boiled down to the same plot — someone wants something and is having trouble getting it. In the case of comedy — the question is what is the “it?”
Dramas have worthy goals. A British soldier decides he wants to unite Arabia. A divorced man fights his wife for custody of his children.
Mysteries might have the goal: The detective wants to find the killer.
Thrillers might up the stakes: The C.I.A. has to find out where the bomb is hidden before it goes off.
Comedy goals are a little off the wall, or less intense. The goals might be: The teenager needs to get laid; the guys need to get the band back together; we need to crash the wedding. In the recent rom-com No Strings Attached, Adam (Ashton Kutcher) and Emma (Natalie Portman) decide to be sex buddies and to use each other. The goal is not to fall in love. Very inappropriate for a romantic comedy.
But when something isn’t suitable, it’s usually funny. In the case of the inappropriate goal, it’s two-fold. It’s not only funny, but it also fuels our engine for the rest of the story. Inappropriate behavior can lead to outrageous antics.
Sidenote: Just because the goal is inappropriate doesn’t mean it’s not important. What is happening in the story is the most important event in your main character’s life.
For example, in Tootsie, Michael Dorsey cannot get work as an actor. It pains him. He has to work to produce a play. But no one will work with him. So he decides to audition for a part as a woman. Dressed in drag, he gets it.
The inappropriate goal is the most important event/action in your story. Everything will emerge from the goal — the logline, characters, plot devices, and resolution.
Let’s take a look at the inappropriate goals of some classic comedies.
Risky Business. Consider the teenage hero’s inappropriate goal: to start a brothel and pay back a loan shark. Whoa! We’re talking about a suburban high school kid who has this goal. Clearly not appropriate! If Tom Cruise wanted to start a lawn mowing business or a car wash business to pay off his debt, that would be earnest, but I don’t know how funny it would be.
Following in the footsteps of Risky Business about thirty years later, two other movie characters decide to use sex to solve their cash flow problems. I’m referring to Zack and Miri Make a Porno. Two best friends are so sunk in debt, they decide that the quickest way out of their financial mess is to make a porno film together. Appropriate? Certainly not. Funny? Yes.
In the recent hit The Hangover four friends have gone to Las Vegas for a bachelor party. Sure, we’ve seen bachelor party movies before. (Tom Hank’s Bachelor Party and American Wedding). They can be R-Rated for obvious reasons and lead to their own inappropriate behavior. But The Hangover isn’t about having a good time. The characters’ goal in the movie is to find the groom. Yes, the groom has disappeared, which is not appropriate behavior for anyone the night before his wedding.
Now, in most romantic comedies, boy wants girl or girl wants boy. Both are reasonable goals. But matters of love are never so appropriate.
In the movie 10, George Webber (Dudley Moore) falls in love with Jenny Hanley (Bo Derek). Just one small problem: She’s just gotten married. In fact, she’s still in her wedding dress when he first lays eyes on her! He meets her literally as she’s pulling away from the church in a limo with her new husband. But it doesn’t stop him on his inappropriate goal as he pursues her on her honeymoon. Now imagine if 10 were about Dudley Moore waffling about whether or not to marry Samantha (Julie Andrews), his long-suffering girlfriend. Not a bad story about commitment phobia. But not close to Blake Edwards’s comedic view of one man’s mid-life crisis.
In Tin Cup, Roy (Kevin Costner) is a washed up golf pro who tries to qualify for the US Open in order to win the heart of Molly (Renee Russo), the girlfriend of Don Johnson, his successful rival. Trying to win a sports event to impress a girl is hardly inappropriate unless she’s the girlfriend of your competition. Then it could be seen as inappropriate.
In There’s Something About Mary, Ted (Ben Stiller) hires a private detective to track down Mary (Cameron Diaz), his high school crush and almost prom date. Clearly, hiring a detective to find a girl to date is not the right way to start a relationship. Trouble and humor are surely going to ensue.
In Pretty Woman, Edward Lewis (Richard Gere) hires a prostitute for three days to be his girlfriend. ’Nuff said!
Knowing the inappropriate goal leads us to developing the comedic logline.
THE COMEDIC LOGLINE A.K.A. THE PITCH
In Hollywood, you’re always pitching. Always. And a rule of pitching is to reference a movie that succeeded at the box office. I once spent a summer pitching by constantly referencing the hit movie 300.
It’s like Pretty Woman meets 300.
It’s like Stripes meets 300. (Actually, that one is not bad).
The point is 300 made a ton of money and the joke always got a laugh in the room.
Pitching is an art form. It’s a performance. But you never want to go on too long. I once heard about two writers pitching to a studio executive. (Figure you have about fifteen minutes to pitch your movie). Well, fifteen minutes into this pitch, the writers looked up at the Studio Executive and said: “…and that’s the end of the first act.”
“No, that’s the end of the pitch,” the Studio Exec responded and walked out. It can be tough. It can be brutal.
My wife and I were once pitching at Amblin. It’s the wonderful bungalow that Steven Spielberg calls home. We meet with the executive in a conference room. She was lovely. Intelligent. And she offered us something to drink. This was Amblin (later known as Dreamworks) — so word on the street was that it had the best drinks. Usually a pitch is the “bottled water tour.” You go meeting to meeting collecting bottled water.
This was Steven Spielberg’s company! No bottled water here. They had vanilla ice-blended coffee drinks.
Yes, we’ll take two! My wife, Juliet (and writing partner at the time) exclaimed. The assistant hustled to get our drinks and we began the pitch.
And it died. In the room. Maybe a sentence or two into the story. Did you ever go to a party and talk to someone you found attractive and wanted to be with? And then you start talking to them and realize they are not interested in you? No way. No how. It is not going to happen. Ever. Why are you even talking to me!?
That’s what happened to us at Spielberg’s company.
My wife and I wrapped up the pitch. We knew it was dead and not going anywhere.
There was silence. The meeting was over. The ice-blended vanilla drinks had not even arrived.
“What about the drinks?” I asked.
“We have to-go cups,” the Exec said.
Holy crap!
And they did.
How many bad pitches had they heard to think, “We have to get some to-go cups in here”?
I can’t wait to meet her again and remind her of that story. Call me, Nina!
The truth about pitching is this: I compare it to the old Groucho Marx show where a contestant comes on and if the magic word is said in conversation, a duck drops down holding a placard of the word — and the contestant wins a prize.
If your agenda meets their agenda — you have a chance to sell your pitch.
Which is why you need to have the elevator pitch ready.
Do you know what an elevator pitch is? You’re in a building, going to a dentist or visiting a lawyer, and you get in an elevator on the twentieth floor. The elevator stops. A famous, successful movie producer or agent or star gets in the elevator with you. You say hello, and say you love their work and mention that you finished a screenplay.