the writers' room
I emerged from my three week course of antibiotics and went to help a friend with a multi-camera comedy pilot he's making for a basic cable channel. It made me realize that I've written more about sitcom scenes I hate to write than I have about how much I hate to write them. I'd like to remedy that right now.
I'd forgotten about the crazy high spirits at pilot table reads, the banter so quick between executives dancing up to each other that the words themselves become the beat. They were literally dancing. People at pilots are as manic and raw and optimistic as in a scene from "All That Jazz" I vaguely seem to remember where a new show is being read aloud.
After the read, there's hours of talking, executives and non-writing executive producers going head to head, even though they're all saying the same thing.
Meanwhile the writers gather in "the room."
The writers' room was a romantic place to me when I was first starting out. The remarkable minds pulling jokes out of the air, the funny personal stories, and the food, the wonderful food from the finest midrange restaurants in town, food and coffee that just kept coming, riding into the room on a never-ending wave of bags and foil and cute young production assistants who also had funny stories.
Over time, I realized the jokes weren't coming from the air but from the jizz-stained files of passive aggressive hacks whose funny stories were mainly justifications for things they were still angry about. The production assistants also grew angry over time, at a business that promised riches but dried up before their turn at the trough and whose funny stories were more and more about jobs they were promised and didn't get.
Then the food began to smell. When you could get it. Some writers will never choose a restaurant but veto anyone else's choice. Certain showrunners pretend not to notice when the food has arrived and make everyone join in the charade. And lots of writers throw away their disgusting half-eaten dinners in the very room where you can spend up to seven days a week, sixteen hours a day.
So no I don't like writers' rooms very much. I get claustrophobic. I'm anxious until I've located a bathroom not too near but not too far. I watch the clock. I've made some great friends working for television. But I got into writing to get away from people, not to be locked in a room with them.
I'd forgotten about the crazy high spirits at pilot table reads, the banter so quick between executives dancing up to each other that the words themselves become the beat. They were literally dancing. People at pilots are as manic and raw and optimistic as in a scene from "All That Jazz" I vaguely seem to remember where a new show is being read aloud.
After the read, there's hours of talking, executives and non-writing executive producers going head to head, even though they're all saying the same thing.
Meanwhile the writers gather in "the room."
The writers' room was a romantic place to me when I was first starting out. The remarkable minds pulling jokes out of the air, the funny personal stories, and the food, the wonderful food from the finest midrange restaurants in town, food and coffee that just kept coming, riding into the room on a never-ending wave of bags and foil and cute young production assistants who also had funny stories.
Over time, I realized the jokes weren't coming from the air but from the jizz-stained files of passive aggressive hacks whose funny stories were mainly justifications for things they were still angry about. The production assistants also grew angry over time, at a business that promised riches but dried up before their turn at the trough and whose funny stories were more and more about jobs they were promised and didn't get.
Then the food began to smell. When you could get it. Some writers will never choose a restaurant but veto anyone else's choice. Certain showrunners pretend not to notice when the food has arrived and make everyone join in the charade. And lots of writers throw away their disgusting half-eaten dinners in the very room where you can spend up to seven days a week, sixteen hours a day.
So no I don't like writers' rooms very much. I get claustrophobic. I'm anxious until I've located a bathroom not too near but not too far. I watch the clock. I've made some great friends working for television. But I got into writing to get away from people, not to be locked in a room with them.
Labels: show business, sitcoms, Television
posted by John Levenstein at
4:41 PM
6 Comments:
L.A. really does eat its young, doesn't it?
Funny, 'cause I sympathize with you, and yet, you and I both know that a lot of recent college grads would kill to be in that room!!!
Okay, semi-related question. What month is it when the networks look at pilots and decide whether to order the shows? I'm curious because a screenplay of mine was optioned for a tv pilot and i'm just wondering when the pilots have to be filmed by, if they want major network (nbc, abc etc) consideration.
of course people want to be in that room (i definitely wanted to), that's why the production assistants are angry, they haven't gotten their shot. the strike screwed up the timing, it's hard to say when things will shoot this year, but congratulations.
John, I'm passing this around to my coworkers, past and present. The humor and anger really strikes a chord. I may be the angriest of them all. Perhaps the funniest, then. The most modest as well.
thanks for your answer, john! congrats for getting as far as you did. isn't there a particular month that studios have as the cutoff for when they decide on pilots? i was just wondering when they usually look.
they usually decide which pilot scripts to produce by the end of february and which produced pilots to pick up as series by the beginning of may, but i really think all bets are off this year.
also, pick a handle. pseudonymous is better than anonymous.
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