TV Couples: Will They or Won't They

“Will-They or Won’t-They” is the bread and butter of many TV dramas (and some sitcoms—I’m looking at you, Ross and Rachel). For some, it’s built right into the premise (Bones, for example), whereas other shows have it in the background. For a while anyway.

A glossary:

Shipping/shippers: nothing to do with boats, this refers to a shortened form of “relationshipping,” or “who you want to get together.” Viewers can “ship” characters on a show, which usually means they want the characters to get together.

OTP: One True Pairing. A viewer’s favorite ship, either for a particular show or all of their fandoms.

UST: Unresolved Sexual Tension. Something networks absolutely love. It’s the tease that they hope to capitalize on, but they of course can’t let their leads get together because of:

“The Moonlighting Curse”: The source of the rule that, when the lead characters on a show get together, the UST disappears, and the show tanks. The validity of the rule is debatable; many people believe that it was not David and Maddie getting together that ruined the show, but behind-the-scenes fighting and a season in which their leads were absent half the time. Still, networks and showrunners are often scared by the Moonlighting Curse and the potential loss of viewership and, subsequently, money. This is the reason why most shows end up putting together the main couple in the season finale. Sometimes they’ll do so beforehand, then break them up for some reason, then throw them together when they’re cancelled. One of the reasons for this is the belief that it is difficult to find drama or comedy once the main couple is together—because as we all know from real life, once you’re in a relationship, everything is perfect and shiny and rainbows and unicorns.

Shows that aren’t primarily based on the sexual tension between their leads have been edging into the concept of putting their characters together. Grey’s Anatomy has been doing fine since Shonda Rhimes declared that Derek and Meredith were going to be getting together and staying together permanently (after fans got all up in arms about the constant breaking up). It’s seemed to find a source of tension that is not whether or not characters will break up.

Or, at least, those characters. Grey’s has a bit of a break in that it is a prime-time soap, and therefore has a lot of other romantic relationships to fall back on. Bones tried to distract their viewers with Angela and Hodgins, but the show was built around Booth and Brennan. Fans have been clamoring for years to get them together, and at some point the level of UST gets to be ridiculous, and the networks end up turning viewers away by trying to prevent the Moonlighting Curse.

I find it most interesting to look at shows with a strong central relationship when they’re on the bubble (likely to be canceled). Around episode 16 (or about ¾ of the way through, if it’s not on a 22-24 episode schedule), they’ll start pushing the couple together. If they don’t get renewed, they get together at the end of the season, and it’s happily ever after. If they do, however, generally something dramatic or wacky (depending on if it’s a drama or a sitcom) will get in their way, prevent their happiness, and drag on the will-they-or-won’t-they until the same time, next year.

(As a note, there is generally a certain percentage of viewers who Just Don't Care about the relationships in any given TV show. They're in it for the plot and storyline, and they tend to be most annoyed when the relationship--or lack thereof--begins to take over the show. However, the fans who do care about shipping tend to be louder.)

'Tis the Season: Holiday Episodes

It seems almost every time there’s a holiday, there’s an episode of some TV show celebrating it. (That is, except Arbor Day—there’s no love for Arbor Day.) Some holidays, of course, are more likely to have corresponding episodes than others. So without further ado, a list of the top holidays that TV likes to celebrate:

Honorable Mentions: Valentine’s Day, New Year’s Eve, 4^th of July

There would probably be more episodes surrounding 4^th of July if it weren’t in the middle of the summer hiatus for most shows. The New Year’s Eve episode generally has to replace the Christmas episode (also due to typical hiatus scheduling), so showrunners are required to make a decision between the two, and Christmas tends to win. Valentine’s Day can be a big deal on primetime soaps and some sitcoms, but still falls short compared to other TV holidays.

#3: Halloween

The Halloween episode is most common in sitcoms and shows with spookier bents. Straight-up dramas will occasionally include Halloween parties within the show, but rarely build episodes surrounding the holiday.

#2: Thanksgiving

This holiday is loved by shows about family—nothing says family drama like a big Thanksgiving dinner. Sitcoms also enjoy the potential wacky hijinks of trying to put together a Thanksgiving dinner.

#1: Christmas

And… the big one. There are several new Christmas episodes aired every year, among both dramas and sitcoms. Almost every show will, by its third season, have at least one episode dedicated to the holiday. And there are certain hallmarks of your traditional Christmas episode:

1) The Fight/Misunderstanding/Reconciliation: Almost all Christmas episodes will contain at least one argument between important characters, which will be resolved by the end when everyone realizes the importance of family/friendship/relationships/holiday spirit.

2) The Chanukkah mention/subplot: It’s rare that an entire episode will be devoted to Chanukkah, but there’s generally anywhere from a mention of the holiday to an entire subplot surrounding it (the Holiday Armadillo from Friends, for example).

3) The Famous Christmas Story Homage: Most of the time this will be to either A Christmas Carol or It’s a Wonderful Life, though How the Grinch Stole Christmas and A Charlie Brown Christmas are often at least alluded to (Glee recently did a full homage to the former). One of the show's main characters is often visited by ghosts or imagines what life would be like without them in order to learn some fabulous Christmas message (that will likely be forgotten when the show returns after the hiatus).

4) Schmaltz: The Christmas episode specialty. Christmas episodes are given leeway to be sappier than usual (which, for some shows, can put them ridiculously over-the-top); dramas become more heartfelt and dramatic, and sitcoms stray into the drama territory as well. There’s often a lesson learned in order to make the ending as sappy and happy as possible (There are rare shows which have holiday episodes ending unhappily, but these are few and far between).

So there’s your guide to TV Holidays. As you’re watching this year’s crop, try tracking which of them follow the four hallmarks and which don’t. And if you come up with any hallmarks you think should be added to the list, let me know.

Television as a Medium

Every time a new medium is invented, something about how it gets used makes it evolve into a distinctly different art form. Generally, there are associations and connections with other media, but each medium is distinct in its combination of traits. The three main traits I love about television are not unique to it, but combine uniquely to make television great.

1) Visual/auditory—Let’s start off with the easy one. Television is a visual medium, and as such can do many things non-visual media cannot. “Show, don’t tell” is frequently espoused advice for creative ventures, and this is an easier rule to follow for visual media. A set director can showcase a character’s personality simply via how they create the character’s home, clues can be given via wordless cuts, and actors can show us what they are thinking. For stage plays, the proper formatting is to have the dialogue start out on the left margin, with all stage directions indented. For screenplays and teleplays, the format is inverted: stage directions are on the left margin, and dialogue is indented. For movies and television, what you see is more important than what you hear. That’s not to say that dialogue isn’t important in its own right, but the visual is primary. Like movies, television combines the visual and the auditory to enhance the experience for the audience; it becomes because of this one of the most lifelike forms of media.

2) Serial—This is another obvious trait of a television series; it is, by its nature, serial. Rather than being confined to a movie’s two hour (give-or-take) time limit, a series can last for years. Characters can evolve over time, arcs are possible, and plots can take their time. Television's serial nature also makes continuity possible, which can make a more interesting and exciting viewing experience. TV is in this case most like a book series, but released at a much quicker pace.

3) Accessibility—This is the part of television I find fascinating, but is often overlooked: it is designed to be accessible at all times. The networks want to make money, and thus every episode should be able to draw in new or casual viewers. It’s the reason for the invention of the “Previously on…” sequence. Television is the most fluid medium that is in some ways required to be disjointed. No one expects someone to start a book halfway through, but for TV, you have to be able to bring in people regardless of where you are in the season or story arc. I don’t know about you, but I haven’t watched every show from the very beginning. I started Veronica Mars in the middle of season two. I started watching Alias halfway through its season one finale. Most people haven’t watched all their shows from their pilot episodes. A lot comes from channel flipping, promos, or word of mouth—but then the show has to deliver. And it has to be written every time to deliver to a person who has no clue what’s going on. And that is pretty amazing. A medium that requires similar accessibility is the comic book, but even then, you’re not expected to be able to start in the middle of an issue. A TV show should be able to hook you mid-episode, wherever you start.

So those are three of the main facets of the television medium—not all, by any stretch of the imagination—but ones that make me remember why I love it as an art form. It manages to combine some of the most interesting parts of movies, book series, and comic books to create the television series—its own unique brand of art.

Pilots, Part II

Sometimes there’s just too much information to cram into one episode, so you end up with a two-part pilot. Such is the way with this blog.

Previously on Television Topics, we established that good pilots need to set up the People, Premise, and Plot of a show.

So, you’ve got interesting characters, a somewhat attention-grabbing premise, and an established plot. Now all you need to do is throw them all in a bowl, stir vigorously, bake at 350, and voila: a perfect pilot? Not exactly.

The last thing to talk about when it comes to television pilots is structure. And the best way to do that is via the titan of visual media: the movie.

Experts have been analyzing movies for decades, and the structure of your average film is, by now, pretty well-agreed upon. For those who don’t know, I’ll sum it up in a hopefully quick manner.

Film are roughly divided into three acts: Act I is the first quarter of the movie, Act II is the middle half (quarters two and three), and Act III is the fourth quarter. Yes, this makes Act II twice as long as Acts I and III, but we never claimed this was an equitable business.

Also, there are five points in a film that really matter. The Inciting Event takes place about ten minutes in, Plot Point 1 is at the end of Act I, the Midpoint is (you guessed it) halfway through the movie, Plot Point II is the end of Act II, and the Climax is somewhere in Act III.

On your movie time line, it looks something like this:

        Act I           |                    Act II                      |      Act III
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inciting Event        PP1 |                          Midpoint                      PP2 |           Climax

For television, we’re going to be focusing on the Inciting Event and Plot Point I. In a movie, the Inciting Event is “the thing that happens that causes everything else to happen,” or “what changes things for the protagonist.” Plot Point I is when the protagonist starts on his or her journey, metaphorically or otherwise. Star Wars is the general go-to for describing movie structure; the Inciting Event is Luke getting the message from Leia, and Plot Point I is him leaving Tatooine with Obi-Wan.

And that’s all great for movies, which wrap everything up in the next hour and a half or so. But we’re talking about television, where pretty much every showrunner would love for their show to be on for many seasons of 22 episodes. So what does the whole movie structure have to do with a TV show?

When it comes to pilots, the answer is surprisingly “a lot.” Almost every pilot follows the structure of Act I of a movie. The only difference is timing. The Inciting Event will still happen in the first ten minutes, but generally it will tend toward the earlier side. (Very occasionally, the Inciting Event happens prior to the beginning of the pilot.) And Plot Point I—the starting of the journey, the choice that establishes the Premise of the show—will happen at the very end of the pilot.

Glee had the Inciting Event of Will taking over Glee Club, and its Plot Point I was Will deciding to stay and coach them rather than quit his job. Buffy had the Inciting Event of starting school in Sunnydale, and Plot Point I was when she, Willow, and Xander formed the beginning of the Scooby gang at the end of the pilot. Even sitcoms fall prey to the structure. Friends, one of the quintessential 90’s sitcoms, has an Inciting Event—Rachel running into Central Perk after running out on her wedding—and, at the end of the episode, Plot Point I—Rachel moving in with Monica and becoming a part of the group.

You’re definitely going to be able to find exceptions. Straight procedurals like Law and Order and a lot of animated shows tend to be the most unlikely to match the pattern. In those cases, the pilot often establishes the status quo rather than upsetting it. Still, most pilots will, as a rule, adhere to the first-act structure.

TV Pilot Episodes

As the first post of this blog, it seems fitting to discuss most people's introduction to a TV show—its pilot. Pilots, despite often being later maligned as “not very good” by fans and critics, are the most important episodes that shows produce. Pilot scripts need to convince networks to buy them and shoot them, produced pilots need to convince networks to pick their show up, and aired pilots need to convince viewers to actually watch the show in question. And with networks being much more likely to axe new shows before letting them gain viewership, your pilot better hook people, or your show is likely to disappear.

So what distinguishes a good pilot from a bad one? There are a few obvious pitfalls: heavy-handed exposition, boring characters, unrealistic dialogue, etc. Qualities that make a show bad can be even more overemphasized in pilots because they’re trying to get out a ton of background information. But what a good pilot really needs to do is establish the three P’s of the show: People, Premise, and Plot.

1) People: This is the big one. If the audience doesn’t care about your characters, why should they watch every week? We’ve got enough people in real life who annoy us, why would we turn on the TV to watch more of them? Give us someone to care about, somewhat to root for, someone to root against, someone whose life we’re interested in. Any of the above, really. But the kiss of death is not people disliking your show; it’s people just not giving a damn about it.

2) Premise: Okay, so you’ve got characters we are at least favorably inclined toward, or find somewhat interesting. The premise is why we’re watching them. It’s the one line that describes the entire show. Premise and plot are often intertwined, especially on procedurals, but the premise is what makes the show different. Lost’s premise, for example, was “several people stranded on a mysterious island after a plane crash.” Castle, on the other hand, has the premise “A writer follows around a NYC cop and helps her with cases.”

3) Plot: If the people are “who” and the premise is “why,” the plot is the “what” of the show. What should we as an audience expect to see from week to week? As mentioned in the premise section, this is easy to set up in a procedural, and is generally stated in the premise. Using the Castle example, each episode will be the writer helping the cop with a case. Lost and other dramas and sitcoms aren’t as clear-cut. Still, if a pilot is good, it will give you a hint as to what you should see every week. Veronica Mars’ premise was “An ostracized teen PI works to solve her best friend’s murder,” but even the pilot showed that the plot of each week was likely to be a mystery for her to solve as a PI.

Of course, having the three P’s doesn’t necessarily make for a good pilot, nor a full-season pick-up, but they do certainly start you off ahead of the curve. And with the fickleness of networks and audiences these days, that leg up is one worth having.

Next week: Because many pilots have simply too much to cram into one episode, this first blog is a two-parter! To be continued with Pilots: Part II, or “What Pilots Have Learned From the Movies.”