“Let’s move to the big story—the only story that everybody is talking about, Tiger King. The new Netflix series that is somehow more viral than COVID-19.”
The Daily Show with Trevor Noah
NOTE: Starting today, I’m going to try a little experiment. I’m calling it The Coronavirus Writers’ Room. I don’t mean to downplay the seriousness of the deadly situation around the world. But this is just one way to creatively process all the information coming at us. And in the spirit of books I’ve read where an older writer has a conversation with a younger writer, I bring you a small writers room of just two people trapped in my mind that I’ll just call OLD PRODUCER (OP) and YOUNG WRITER (YW). They’re not fully formed characters, so don’t be surprised if they morph some in the coming days. And it’s not really a writers’ room—it’s all done online using Zoom to keep with social distancing practices.
Their goal is see how to turn this events of the coronavirus into a movie, tv, or streaming/online script. I imagine something like this is going on in many places in the world.
OLD PRODUCER: How was your weekend?
YOUNG WRITER: There was the weekend?
OP: One day blends into the next.
YW: Exactly. I’m not even sure of the month. Or the year.
OP: It’s the year of the Tiger King.
YW: You didn’t watch that did you?
OP: Was there anything else on? I think it’s now mandatory viewing during the coronavirus lockdown.
YW: Like moving to Florida once you turned 60—it’s the law.
OP: You stole that from Seinfeld.
YW: Only steal from the best.
OP: You stole that from Woody Allen.
YW: For an old man, your mind is pretty sharp.
OP: Are you age-shaming me?
YW: No, I think it’s great that you’re still at it.
OP: There’s a few of us still kicking; Carl Reiner and Betty White are 98, Norman Lear’s 97, and Roger Corman is the spring chicken at 94.
YW: You’re going to be the first to 100.
OP: Then like George Burns—exit stage right.
YW: Can you imagine all the changes Burns saw in his lifetime?
OP: World War I, The Great Depression, World War II, Korea, Civil Rights, Viet Nam—
YW: —Milli Vanilli winning a Grammy.
OP: Oy.
YW: I may not be totally up on American history, but I’m a pop history queen.
OP: Burns was the real deal. He was one of the few performers who crossed over from vaudeville, to film, to radio, to TV. He was known for his comedy—
YW: —And his cigar.
OP: And his cigar. And Gracie. But he could really sing, too.
YW: He died before 9/11, right?
OP: ’96.
YW: I wasn’t even born yet.
OP: So this pandemic is your first life-changing event?
YW: I was too young to remember anything about 9/11 or the dot com crash. Even the housing crash didn’t invade my world. But I was pretty distraught when Nate Newby dumped me in third grade.
OP: But you got over it?
YW: It’s amazing what years of therapy will do.
OP: You need to watch Tiger King—then you’ll never have a bad day again.
YW: Pitch me Tiger King in five words.
(Pause. Thinking.)
OP: Oklahoma man. Florida woman. Shakespeare.
YW: Is there a body count?
OP. Yes. Plus baby tigers and a guy with a mullet.
YW: Sold. I’m watching it tonight.
OP: The struggle for power is universally interesting because it has built-in conflict. That makes it inherently dramatic.
YW: Boom.
(YW imitates a mic drop.)
OP: Are we done?
YW: We haven’t even started. We have a whole coronavirus story to develop.
OP: That’s right. What’s our way into the story?
YW: I don’t even know where to start.
OP: I’ve done stories based on a character, or a situation. But this is so big I kind of think we ought to tap into what Mamet wrote about 20 years ago in Three Uses of a Knife—thesis, antithesis, synthesis.
YW: Doesn’t take my breath away.
OP: We’re just trying to get some traction to get out of the gate. I’ve never seen the world shutdown like it has been over this virus. During The Great Depression people went to the movies. After 911 people went to the movies. They ate out. They went to church. They went to work.
YW: The world didn’t stop.
OP: Right. I think there’s going to be a new reality after this. That’s where thesis, antithesis, synthesis fits in.
YW: Sounds a little too academic for my blood. Anti-creative.
OP: You said you wanted to learn.
YW: I just have trouble seeing how that academic thing works in storytelling.
OP: Can you envision A+B=C?
YW: Not helping.
OP: Basically two different things come together and make a new thing. Think peanut butter over here and chocolate over here—they come together and you have Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.
YW: Can you give me one writer who writes this way?
OP: When Mike Birbiglia—who wrote Don’t Think Twice—
YW: —Loved it.
OP: When he was writing his Netflix special The New One, he said that his thesis was “All of the reasons no one should ever want to have a child.” His antithesis, “How I had a child and how I was right.” His synthesis was “how I was wrong.”
YW: That’s kinda brilliant.
OP: Being a couple is cool, kids mess that up, but becoming a family is worth it all.
YW: So do you have a Mamet-thingy for this story?
OP: Order. Chaos. New Order.
YW: I don’t hate it. I see where you’re going.
OP: At least it’s a starting place.
YW: Let me chew on that before we continue.
More to come in Part 2.
Scott W. Smith
You are hilarious! 🙂 Thank you!
Just trying to stay sane.
Reblogged this on I Found it at the Movies and commented:
Not sure which blog to put this on … but … here’s how the sausage is made! 🙂
Thanks Debbi.
[…] « The Coronavirus Writers’ Room (Part 1) […]
[…] goal in this two-person team is to develop (in a free-wheeling style) a coronavirus-like story. (Part 1, and Part […]
[…] online via Zoom, is to develop (in a free-wheeling style) a coronavirus-like story. (Part 1, Part 2, Part […]