BBC Writersroom is as busy as ever during the lockdown due to the COVID-19 pandemic. We asked two of our Northern Voices writers (Sara Cocker and Léonie Higgins, two-thirds of Manchester's Eggs Collective) to describe how their recent day devoted to Comedy writing played out in a socially-distanced world.
Hi, we’re Sara and Léonie, a pair of writer-performers based in Manchester. We’re part of the BBC Writersroom Northern Voices group for 2020, which means we get access to monthly sessions led by industry professionals from across the broadcast landscape. There are 18 of us, and although we’ve only all met in the flesh twice, we’re using the time in lockdown to replicate the experience we should have had, trying just as hard as everyone else in the world to maintain breezy social bonds with only fibre-optic broadband and a couple of in-jokes.
This month’s session was about comedy writing. It all happened on Zoom (where else?), but we tried to make it feel less remote by firing up the group chat. We tried our best at doing some banter on WhatsApp, and played a drinking game where you have a sip of tea whenever the cornerstones of great writing are mentioned (amongst them, ‘voice’, ‘authenticity’ and, for the instant jackpot, ‘Fleabag’). To replicate our whole experience, we’ve put some dispatches from the WhatsApp frontline below (in italics) and you can play along with the drinking game, using whatever beverages are left in the Co-op.
SESSION ONE
Our first session was beamed live from the WFH desk of BBC Writersroom Development Executive, Simon Nelson. Simon talked to us about what makes a script stand-out from the reading pile: original, authentic voice (DRINK!); brilliant, robust, three-dimensional characters with a comic flaw that drives the story; a plot that hits the ground running. A page one that makes you want to turn to page two.
We watched an episode of Derry Girls together (the one with the dead dog that’s not dead), as Simon talked us through the mechanics of structure and character: notice how each character pushes the story forward by acting from their flaw. Erin lives like she’s in a movie about herself, everything she does comes entirely from that. She could stop the story by clearing up all the confusion, but her comic flaw doesn’t allow her to, so we are driven onwards and the crisis escalates. The truth, of course, outs and by the end of the episode there’s the traditional sitcom reset: no-one has learnt anything, no-one has changed. So we can all be back on the settee, same time next week, for more misadventures with the characters we love.
In the break, Ellie had some ginger nuts in Hull. Taiba helped herself to a jam slice in Halifax. Over in Leeds, Samran had his breakfast.
SESSION TWO
Session Two was with comedy writer and story producer, Sarah Morgan, who kicked off by explaining the ‘The Sitcom Family’. This is the theory that, in most hit sitcoms, the four central characters fall into the roles of Patriarch, Matriarch, Craftsman and Clown.
It all sounds very gendered, but it’s not, which Sarah demonstrated by using the example of The Beatles. John’s the patriarch: the driver, the decision maker. Paul’s the matriarch: the voice of reason, the soft place for the others to land. Ringo’s the clown - very much the Bart Simpson of the most influential rock band of all time - and George is the craftsman.
Sitcoms are all about the characters, she said. In fact, often the ‘sit’ is the least important part. But they need to be trapped together in some way: there has to be a fundamental need for them to keep interacting, which could be financial, sexual, or just a fear of what would happen if they left.
The first line for each character should be a joke that tells you who they are. The first episode of Friends is a masterclass in that. For example, everything Joey says tells us very clearly, “Hey, I’m a sex guy who likes sandwiches”. And remember that every character thinks they’re the star of the show. The E character doesn’t know they’re not the A character, so they need as much detail as the lead. Gunther has dreams too.
In comedy the stakes don’t have to be objectively high, but they’ve got to feel sky high for your character. If the character cares, and we care about the character, then we’ll care about those stakes too.
SESSION THREE
The third session was from BBC Comedy Commissioning Editor, Gregor Sharp, who talked to us about what audiences expect from comedy nowadays. There’s been a gradual sophistication of comedy as a genre: comedy shows now have characters with real psychological depth. There’s been an evolution in how we consume stories, a shift in viewing appetite, so we’re less used to watching shows where the characters are just vessels for jokes.
There are always landmark moments that bend what’s possible in the format, shows like Outnumbered, The Royle Family, Fleabag. (DRINK!)
Someone asked Gregor what they’re not looking for at the moment, and the main headlines were: give Zoom-based lockdown pitches a swerve. Unless it’s genre-bendingly brilliant. Nor are they looking for confessional, self-discovery shows at the moment. Unless they’re genre-bendingly brilliant. Basically, that seems to be the caveat to any piece of advice. If it’s genre-bendingly brilliant you can write what you want.
Similarly, if you’re worried you’ve not got enough experience? Well, if you’re funny enough, you’re experienced enough.
Look, he said, treatments are always hard to write, scripts are in the doing, and if you’re creating something for a mass medium you’ve succeeded when it reaches a mass number of people.
They’re looking for scripts full of compelling characters, that are unexpectedly funny and somehow hit the zeitgeist before anyone else knows what the zeitgeist is.
SESSION FOUR
Our fourth session was with comedy producers Jim Poyser and Rebecca Papworth. Jim and Rebecca don’t work together, but they had a lot of similar advice to share. When you come in for a first meeting with either Jim or Rebecca, they’ll want to have a good chat about your idea, but also get a sense from you that you’ll be prepared to work hard and take getting notes well. They’re looking for that idea that stands out from the crowd, and they both love a grafter.
Their advice was to read scripts of successful shows to see how economical they are, how tight the technique. Your characters should have soul, and an authentic point of view. (DRINK!)
If you’ve got an agent, your script is much more likely to be read by a producer. The relationship between writer and producer is so key, you'll be working closely together on a shared vision, so make sure that the relationship works for both of you. It’s helpful, if you do get a meeting, to have a few ideas up your sleeve.
So, take notes well, be flexible with your work, be prepared to graft. Oh, and have a fabulous voice (DRINK!) with an original concept. And if it’s a comedy: be funny.
SESSION FIVE
Our final session was with This Country writer and performer - actual Kurtan - Charlie Cooper, and the series director, Tom George. This was such an inspiring session, but maybe surprisingly, it was really reassuring (not intimidating, which it easily could have been from two lads who are partly responsible for one of the most beloved and lauded shows of recent years).
Charlie told us that when he and (co-creator of This Country) Daisy May Cooper write together, they do it in short bursts. Daisy lies on a bed, they improvise a bit as they write and when they run out of steam, they knock it on the head for the day. Both Tom and Charlie talked about the importance of finding the working practice that’s best for you. Do whatever works, whenever you’re most creative, and don’t feel guilty about what shape that takes. All the work you do is valuable, bad ideas can lead to good ideas. It’s not about how many pages you do each day or your self-imposed deadlines. Know when to call it a day when you hit a wall.
They talked about a book called ‘Daily Rituals’ (currently priced at £89 from one online retailer, or £5.99 for the e-reader version, so take your pick starving artists), which goes through the massively varied daily routines of history’s most creative geniuses. We’ve not read any so far that involved sitting in elasticated waistbands chaining grab bags of Doritos in the midst of a global pandemic, but we’re only about 10 pages in. Apparently Beethoven counted out sixty coffee beans per cup, which does sound like the sort of thing that starts to really matter seven weeks into lockdown, so we’re gonna stick with it.
This session was like extra gold dust for us, because we’re a pair of writer-performers. Director Tom is also a part of the writing and storylining process on This Country, and they talked to us about how writing in a pair or a team means that you’ve got to try and take the ego out of it. Don’t censor anything, share your ideas even if they’re appalling. You have to have trust in each other.
A nice practical tip, was to share scripts with people you share a sense of humour with, they don’t have to be in the industry. For Daisy and Charlie, this person is their mum. If she laughs at something, they know it works. Thank the vicar for Mother Cooper then, eh?
