15 September 2010
Posted in Writers - Carla Robinson
“Be thankful we’re not getting all the government we’re paying for.” Will Rogers
Bedlam, New York by Carla Robinson
What: Barry Plumb, deputy to City Councilman Ted Lackey becomes collateral damage when Lackey is forced to resign because of intertwining corruption and sex scandals.
Who: Barry Plumb’s first order of business is to try to guide the press conference at which Councilman Lackey announces his resignation with the usual stipulation that the press will not be allowed to ask Lackey any questions.
Councilman Lackey: My focus is on my family and on my incredible wife, Carol. I am blessed to have her by my side, and it is my deepest intention to make amends to her – and to my constituents. Thank you.
Councilman Lackey takes his wife by the arm and begins to lead her away when another reporter shouts –
Reporter #3: This question’s for Carol!
Carol Lackey glances at Barry, and her husband. She scowls at his grip on her arm. She steels herself, breaks free of his hold, and with chin held high, faces the reporters.
Carol Lackey: What do you want to know?
An awkward silence permeates the room.
Reporter #3: Do you forgive your husband for the lying and cheating and for putting you through this public spectacle?
***
Carol grins at the reporter.
Carol Lackey: I married Ted in law school. His school, not mine. Actually, I quit school to work and pay for his education. I knew it was a worthy investment in a… worthy man.
Carol eyes her husband, and her grin becomes a sneer.
Carol Lackey: Of course, I didn’t know at the time that what I was really investing in was pay-by-the-hour motel rooms, sex toys, and satin undergarments that must have been assembled by a ten-year-old because they seem to be lacking a crotch!
Carol pulls a pair of crotch-less panties from her purse and waves them at her husband.
Carol Lackey: I found them in the minivan, Ted! And guess what? They’re not mine!
Barry: Mrs. Lackey…
Barry tries to restrain Carol, but she elbows him. Hard.
Carol Lackey: Back off, Barry. (pointing at Ted) I watched this man ascend the ranks from executive aide to councilman to council president. And now that he has led me to the pinnacle of abject humiliation, I am going to take him for every penny he’s got! (Carol snarls at Barry) And I’m gonna punish every son-of-a-bitch who helped him along the way!
And so ends the brief and glorious political career of Barry Plumb; or, rather, his career, such as it was, in the metropolitan hub of the country – Manhattan. His mentor and the Council’s senior advisor, Patrick Conover, explains to Barry that he should have fired him earlier when he first got wind of the way things were being run in Lackey’s office; but he didn’t because he felt that Barry had one of the best political minds he’d ever seen, albeit a naïveté that was shocking.
Patrick offers Barry a chance to redeem himself with a new job supervising the mayoral election, following the sudden death of the former mayor, in the small town of Bedem in upstate Saratoga County, population 500. Reluctantly, with his assistant and former girl friend Anna in tow, they head for Bedem, a quaint little village with a “plaza of simple brick and colonial buildings, with a taller building serving as the town hall at the center.”
Barry: It’s like East Dog Patch, USA.
Anna: I’d stop whining, Barry. You’re lucky to have this job.
Barry: I’m not whining. I know I’m lucky. To have any job. I’m just saying – let’s get in, get someone elected mayor, and get out of town.
Anna: We don’t even know who the candidates are.
Barry: In a population of five hundred, how many can there be?
And therein lies the rub, as it seems that at least 200 of them are running for the position, or more specifically 20, all Independents – there will be no Republican or Democratic run-off – a daunting prospect as it is entirely possible that it could take months before any one candidate garners a majority of the votes. Pole-axed…
Barry: People, what happened to the two party system in Bedem, New York?
One man in the back of the room chimes in –
Man: It didn’t take.
Barry: But it’s how things are done. The party system is the standard in American politics. It’s the cornerstone of the Constitution.
Otto: Bull-puckey. The Constitution was shaped by principles that constrained the party system.
An elderly woman, Eunice, nods her head.
Eunice: He’s right, Plumb. Read the Federalist Papers.
Barry: I have read the…
Jan: Look… We’re all familiar with Alexis de Tocqueville and his impact on nineteenth century political thought… But Barry’s new here, and he may not be aware that Monsieur de Tocqueville wrote the first draft of his thesis on tyranny right in this very room.
Barry takes a moment. He’s impressed.
**
Anna: (nudges Barry) Not bad for East Dog Patch.
Otto: A host of good people came through Bedem on their way to Albany, and parts south. Each one made his own contribution, but in the end, they all remind us of the same thing… It’s people who get elected. Not parties.
Sophisticated Barry has been outclassed and outranked by the local yokels; a situation that will continue, despite his so-called brilliant political mind, when representatives from Albany announce plans to revoke the city charter because, with the death of the former mayor, the population has slipped below the necessary 500. Despite the doom and gloom, the townspeople hold their election and a majority is achieved on the first ballot – Barry Plumb is elected in a landslide write-in vote. Bedem has a new mayor, a population of 500, and a political mind to solve what may be their greatest problem - Bedem may actually be the property of the Iroquois Nation. Things are definitely in a state of bedlam.
No Meaner Place: There is so much within the pages of this pilot which begins with one of the all time great teasers with Mrs. Lackey putting into words what everyone hoped to hear from Mrs. Spitzer or Mrs. Sanford. As a set up for the demise of a promising political career, Barry’s not Lackey’s, it is peerless. Within the first few pages, the reader/viewer has a relatively complete grasp of Barry’s character and the flaws that will undo him in Bedem. Further, Robinson has played on the preconceptions of the audience by portraying the average citizens of Bedem as being anything but average, with a fuller understanding of American history and politics than most professional politicians. Barry will be an amazing foil for the interesting, deceptive townsfolk of Bedem. Each new insight, such as the of Bedem’s Colonial period significance comes as a jolt:
Anna: The Preservation Society sent the documents I asked for. The good news is, most of our buildings will qualify as historical.
Barry: Is there bad news?
Anna: Remember the odd shape of the town?
Barry: A squid, with tentacles.
Anna: Those tentacles were short cuts – each leading to one of our historic buildings. Stately homes, really, where the proprietors would welcome tired, hungry, lonely soldiers and give them refuge from the night.
Barry: Sounds wonderful.
Anna: I thought you’d like it. Because our historical homes, Barry, were eighteenth century bordellos.
Barry slumps into a chair
Barry: The town founders were prostitutes. (calls to the desk) Did you know that, Eunice?
Eunice: Of course, dear. It’s how the town got its name.
Barry: Bedem.
Laughter, irony, sophisticated politics in Dog Patch East – who could ask for more?
Life Lessons for Writers: “Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, and then for a few close friends, and then for money.” – Molière. Why can’t it be for all of the above?
Conversation with the Writer:
Neely: I loved your script. Obviously that must have come through.
Carla: I can’t tell you what a great shot in the arm you have given me. It was such a nice response and unsolicited. It was one of those great mornings when I got your email. You seemed to totally get it.
Neely: That makes me feel great! I’m so in love with that script. And, by the way, congratulations on getting a WGA Access Award for it. That’s how I discovered it. Melody Fox, a fellow Access winner, also had recommended it.
Carla: Melody, who’s a very good friend, was one of the very first people to read this script.
Neely: I have to tell you, you wrote the best teaser I’ve ever read (most of which I quoted at the beginning).
Carla: You really nailed it in your analysis. The whole Spitzer thing is what gave me the inspiration for it. We’ve all been seeing this, time and time again, where the woman is standing there stoically, sometimes giving the little smile... right up to Sanford hiking on the Appalachian Trail with Miss Argentina. I have been waiting for one of these women to just let them have it. And then I thought, instead of it being about her husband, let me make it about his right-hand man.
Neely: The guy who’s covering up for him.
Carla: Exactly. That was a fun thing to do.
Neely: The material seems so out of the box for the kind of writing you’ve done in the past – science fiction on “Battlestar Galactica.” What was your inspiration for Bedem?
Carla: I wanted to write something funny, and obviously with “Battlestar,” as great as it was, my comedic skills were going to be limited, and with good reason, because human holocaust and the story of a murderous race of robots is not going to be a yuk-fest. So when it was time to write my own script, with “Bedlam”, I could just let the banter fly. I love writing banter. As far as inspiration, I don’t know how much detail you want but I’m just going to tell you a behind the scenes story.
Neely: Well the next question was going to be - did you base any of these characters on real-life counterparts or history?
Carla: It’s really an amalgam of moments that stem back from this summer job I once had – one of the many jobs I did to pay for college.
I had agreed to drive a moving van for a rock band from Cincinnati, Ohio to upstate New York. I had never been to New York City or Philadelphia, and I’d always wanted to see those cities. There was going to be a stop through Philly and it seemed like a great idea. Originally I was just supposed move equipment and some instruments for the band, but on the day I was to leave, I learned that the drummer and the bass player were going along for the ride. Immediately I’m a bit skittish about taking musicians over state lines. But I’d already been paid, so I told the guys they’d have to behave, which they did. That’s probably the good side of transporting musicians – they tend to pass out wherever you leave ‘em, and not wake up til you set them on fire. Anyway I was going about 85, which I thought was a pretty good way to get through Western Pennsylvania until I got pulled over. The State Trooper was peering into our van – which must have looked a little bit hinky to him, and he removed me from the van and put me in his cruiser while he ran the plates. Now this is not my van and oh god, I’m hoping that everything is on the level here. I’m sitting there with my fingers crossed making the most inane small talk about Amish country and Quaker country when he got the word that we were okay and he let me go with a warning. He wanted to know where we were headed, just the typical cop questions, but he was so nice. He gave me a list of sites that we should check out on the way, including a diner. He also said for us to say that Trooper Andy sent us. I told him I didn’t think I could say “Trooper Andy” with a straight face but we actually went to some of the places he recommended and people did recognize the name. One guy even said that Andy still owed him for tickets to a Penguins game. It’s entirely possible that Andy was simply using me as a ruse to test the waters.
We continued on. I don’t know if you know the Eastern cities at all – but what’s really wonderful about these places is that you have these big cities that have sections with a small town flavor. Betsy Ross’s house is still In Philly, there among some huge buildings. We did a little tour of the house and there was all this talk about Betsy Ross and how she had these 3 husbands buried down the road. All three of her husband’s graves were there and all I could think about was that Betsy was lucky that she was good with a needle and thread. Thank heavens she was a national treasure, because three dead husbands might have attracted the wrong kind of attention in some other era. Eventually we left Philly and continued our drive to upstate New York. I was surprised by how small the towns were up there. At one point I was completely lost and remember calling someone for directions and the guy said “you can’t find the street?” And I said, “No, I can’t find the town.” Everyone I encountered not only embraced their small town status but was refreshingly proud of its history. I completely understand. I have always had an interest in the years in this country between the French and Indian War and the Revolutionary War. Think about 18th century America at the time it became a country. It had to forge and combat alliances with the British, with the French, with the hundreds of Indian tribes. It had to be confusing for the people at the time. You know, like “who are we with now?” What a fascinating time.
Neely: Were there any real life counterparts?
Carla: Everyone is fictional. The town and people I created were archetypes of what we expected. Barry Plumb was a guy who was where he wanted to be, not realizing that he wasn’t doing anything he should be doing before the rug got swept out beneath him. He has to mature somehow and he also has to come to the realization that he was complicit in his own demise just by continuing to serve a boss who was caught up in vice and corruption. Barry knew what was going on; he just didn’t want to face it. This sort of activity kept him busy and kept him from doing the kinds of things he should have been doing. He has his sometime girlfriend Anna (I love Anna); she’s going to be the one who calls him out when he needs it. And he has Supervisor Patrick, a kind of off-stage puppeteer who directs Barry into this new gig without allowing him a choice in the matter. They’re both people who really have Barry’s best interest at heart, who know he’s not a courageous guy but that he has a keen ability to think on his feet. They want him to make better decisions.
Neely: In terms of the town of Bedem, did you do any specific research into the history?
Carla: Absolutely. Bedem is fictional, but there are examples of towns losing their town status. The term “unorganized territory” is the correct term to describe these areas. It does occur more often in Maine, Vermont and New Hampshire, but most often in Maine. There are towns in Maine with a population in the single digits. It’s hard to imagine, but they exist. As I did some of the research I did discover that town status is lost most often due to surveying errors and population reduction. So I thought how about if I create a town where size really does matter; that the idea of one person moving out or dying could alter municipal structure. There were lots of boundary disputes during the time just before and after the Revolution and it wasn’t just Indians involved. There was actually a group called the Vermont Sufferers relating to a time when Vermont and New Hampshire were both authorizing land grants for the exact same pieces of land. People were getting bounced out because the left hand didn’t know what the right hand was doing. The Vermont Sufferers were a group that got bounced from their land and were sent to Bainbridge, New York. It actually happened. The surveying errors were real. And boundaries were sometimes made up that no actually agreed to. It’s interesting how towns get made and how a town can be dissolved.
Later on in the script I do go into the Indians and whether or not this town was Indian land, but I don’t think we have the time here to go into the number of discrepancies revolving around treaties that various states made with Indian tribes; but again, this is a real life situation that is going on. I read, not too long ago, that the Seneca Tribe was suing New York Sate over a 108 mile patch of land. The Iroquois Nations have filed land claims against both New York State and the United States. Again, because of the time period when these treaties were constructed, an argument in one particular case was made stating that a deal favorable to the Indians had been made by the State before the end of the Revolutionary War, but the State didn’t have jurisdiction because the land still technically belonged to the King; therefore the sale was voided because the state officials had no claim to sell it to the Indians. So it still goes on.
Neely: Has this script gone out?
Carla: It has not. It’s brand new. I have to say, though, that I’m thrilled to be one of the Writers Guild Program winners. I hope it will lead to others reading it. I know it’s a fun script and it’s an easy read. Obviously I want to get people to read it. I think there may be some issue with me being thought of as a drama writer, but I think you can write one hour dramedies. There’s room for drama in “Bedlam.”
Neely: I have to say that I would hate to see the comedic tone darkened. Look, there is now such a thing as a one hour comedy, and I really do see “Bedlam” as that. Where do you see “Bedlam, New York” fitting? Is it cable? Is it network?
Carla: I could see this as a USA cable show, but I could also see it as network. It’s definitely in the vein of the one hour dramedy. I’ve had people compare it to “Gilmore Girls,” “Northern Exposure,” and even to some half hours like “Newhart.” I am delighted by these comparisons because I think these are all great shows.
Neely: I actually saw it more as a half hour single camera with a one hour pilot. Have you ever considered that scenario?
Carla: I must have channeled your thoughts because I ended up looking at it thinking it would work as a half hour also, so I wrote a half hour single camera pilot based on the same material. Obviously it’s half as long, so there’s a lot that isn’t in there anymore. It pretty much opens the same, a little briefer in the teaser. I have it as a teaser and three acts in single camera format. It kind of ends with him being elected mayor. It might work better as a half hour; I don’t know. Not too many people have read the half hour.
Neely: The one thing that worries me about the pilot as a half hour is that what you’ve done so beautifully in this script is create the world of these characters. I think that world needs that much description.
Carla: Well the half hour is definitely shorter. I’ve left out a number of things – like the Indians. The basic story is the same. I think it works well as a half hour. It was a good thing for me to do as an exercise. If anyone wants to read a half hour, I have it.
Neely: I think you might be missing my point about the richness of the world you created in the one hour, but I’d be happy to read the half hour also. I know you also have a feature entered in competition at the Sundance Institute. What does that involve? How do you get into that contest? Tell us something about that.
Carla: I’m really excited about the Sundance application. I think it’s the general consensus that Sundance only invites writers if they have talent or a director already attached to their project, but I’m here to tell you that it’s not always the case. They ask you to submit a very brief sample of your script – only five pages; it’s very short. May 1 is usually the deadline. They give you very precise guidelines of what they want – five pages of the script, a two page double spaced synopsis, a resume, and a letter of introduction in which the writer must state who has seen the script and who, in the industry, is involved with it at the time. A lot of people get upset at the process because it seems as if you’re always losing to well known industry figures. A couple of years ago you might have lost to someone like John Leguizimo. I was very clear on my application letter that no one in the industry is currently attached to my project and that I am just the writer. And I got in! I had entered a number of years in the past and had never gotten this invitation. At this point, the invitation is to submit the entire script. I don’t know how many people, over all, get invited to submit full scripts because this is my first time. All I can say is that someone on the Sundance committee must have responded to something in the material I sent.
Neely: Can you tell me what the feature is about?
Carla: It’s called “A Simple Bridge” and it’s another fish-out-of-water story; I don’t always write fish-out-of-water stories (laughs) but in this case it’s about a man who wants to move his family back to his hometown where he feels he can get a better footing in life. He’s inherited property from his recently deceased grandfather and to him, it’s an opportunity to start over. It’s set in Eastern Kentucky, and once they arrive they learn that his hometown is actually in the middle of an archaic, fifty year feud with a neighboring town that, it turns out, had been started by his grandfather. He came to this town to make a name for himself only to learn that his name in this region is already well known, and despised. He makes a few friends and gets some guidance from the town sheriff, who’s one of the favorite characters I’ve ever written. He devises a plan to reunite the two feuding towns by rebuilding a bridge that used to connect the two towns. It becomes a metaphor as the physical bridge becomes a metaphysical bridge which reconnects his family to the past – to a time and a place. There’s also a twist he never sees coming. I’m very happy about this script and am thrilled someone else is going to read it. I don’t know if anything will come of it, but people will respond to the name Sundance; it’s got to mean something.
Neely: It definitely does. What about other projects?
Carla: I have a couple of other TV pilot scripts, one hour each, that I’m polishing. One is a very gritty drama, definitely cable fare. It could be for a network as well but the way it’s written I really want to keep the language. And I have a Sci-Fi cop show that’s funny and has wonderful characters, including an openly gay male cop, another of my all time favorite characters. I think that sometimes people think that stale sells because everyone is familiar with it, but I love to write new characters that I don’t see every day.
Neely: How did you get started writing?
Carla: Probably, like a lot of people, I was doing it for a while but with no real purpose. I wrote skits and little plays at a very young age. Sometimes in school we’d even have occasion to act them out, if only at recess. I think some of them actually still hold up; but as a kid, I never thought I’d be making my living as a writer. As a teenager I wrote a piece on the Cincinnati Reds that was published in a major newspaper and I wrote a couple of satirical pieces that were published in a national anthology. That may not have been a big deal, but it was my name in print and I was 17; I was really proud.
Neely: Where did you go college?
Carla: I went out of state to Indiana University on a scholarship, initially majoring in microbiology. I got a scholarship from a group that serviced underprivileged kids in Cincinnati and it was a big honor to get it because so few students were even given an application. For part of the scholarship I had to write a very very long paper (to this day I can’t believe that anyone ever read it) highlighting microbiology and how it was still technically a new field. I remember that I made an argument that microbiology had actually been around for a long time because there are references to it in ancient Rome. Some Romans began to realize that even though the soldiers in Carthage had big swords and elephants, they needed to worry about those tiny little things that get in through their feet and made them very sick. Those were very early references to microbes. But here I was in school, working two jobs on the side, going to school full time in a major that had five hour laboratories. It just became impossible for me to function this way; there just weren’t enough hours in the day to continue this schedule. At the time I didn’t even have a television, but at one of my night jobs, there was a small set and I got hooked on Thursday night “Must See TV.” I’d go home after a very very long day and started writing scenes (just for myself) of “Seinfeld.” I just kind of wrote jokes on the side and then I just kept writing and ended up writing a full script – my first spec script.
Twice a year I had to meet with the people who awarded the scholarship and bring my grades; they were very formal about it because they wanted to know where the money was going. I remember the woman brought me in and just looked at me and said, “My god, when was the last time you slept?” I’d been popping No Doze like salted nuts and she picked up on it. It was in that meeting that I told her that school was going great, that I had very good grades; but I had no time for anything. At that point I told her about the couple of things that I had gotten published because I knew she was a big Reds fan. As soon as you tell someone from Cincinnati that you’ve written something about the Reds, they’re all on your side; and that’s when I told her that I’d like to change my major to anything else that would allow me to stay in school. I told her that I had written a spec “Seinfeld” and was stunned when she asked to read it. Later I got a terrible call from her telling me that she had read my “Seinfeld” script and that she had hated it; she quickly added that she hated the show. But her son read the script and he loved it and that was good enough for her. She assured me that I would keep the scholarship as long as I remained in school full time. I stayed in school and got a degree in communications and English, degrees I thought I could make work for me. It still seems strange to me that I’m a writer because my entire background had been in science; I was going to be a microbiologist.
While I was still in college I wrote two plays, but didn’t show them to anyone. Once again serendipity struck at one of my side jobs when I was working as an assistant teacher at a wonderful little school. When the director of the school found out I wanted to be a writer, he asked if I ever wrote plays. He was connected to a couple of guys who ran a very small experimental theater and they were looking for material. They ended up producing both my plays, but I have to admit that both plays bombed horribly. At about the same time, and I don’t remember the exact day when it happened, I realized I had to graduate and get out of school and should move to Los Angeles. I knew I wanted to write for TV and I also knew that I had to get myself out there. I also had to buy a TV set, because at this point I still didn’t have a damn TV set. I worked for about a year before moving out here, doing whatever jobs I could do. It’s always hard to find jobs if you don’t have good connections, and I came from a challenging background with no contacts whatsoever. But I worked and I saved up and bought this little 4 speed Honda; I wasn’t even sure it would make it out here. I didn’t know a single person in Los Angeles and I remember shipping my books separately because it occurred to me that if I had to push my car for a stretch the books might make it too heavy. So I loaded up my duffel bags and drove out West. I’m not sure I even had a map; I just kept going West until I saw the Pacific Ocean for the very first time in my life.
Neely: “Battlestar Galactica” is an interesting and excellent credit. How did you land that job?
Carla: I had written a spec “Law and Order.” It got me into the Warner Brothers drama program and it also won first prize in the Carl Sautter Scriptwriters’ Network contest. Ron Moore was a “prize read” in the contest; he agreed to read the first place winner, and that was me. But Ron hated “Law and Order;” he just hated it. He’s very much a character person and “Law and Order” is a strict procedural – all plot no character. So I was very happy to say to him, “Well maybe you’d like to read my “Practice” script.” And he said, “I love “The Practice.” So he read “The Practice” script and said “Come in, I want to meet you and I want you to pitch for “Roswell.” This was a great example of what I always say, “Don’t live on your one spec.” At about this time a couple of other things happened for me. I won a Prism Award fellowship and an American Film Institute TV writing program fellowship. I had also sent some of my other specs out to “Family Law” and got a freelance assignment from them. At the same time, I pitched Ron a story that he accepted for “Roswell.” Then 9/11 hit. The whole country was under siege so you feel 2 inches tall if you complain about your script not going through. Episodes were getting pulled, including my own, on both “Family Law” and “Roswell” and then both shows were eventually cancelled. I have experienced more than my fair share of “almost there” moments where everything was going fine and then at the very last minute a show decided not to hire a staff writer, or a show got cancelled or it didn’t make it to air or people were leaving the business altogether to walk the Earth like a Hindu mystic. And it’s tough. But Ron remembered me from that “Roswell” pitch and I stayed in touch with him – not to the point where I was a pest but I continually had new work to show him. I contacted when he was on “Carnivale” which I thought would be perfect for me, and he asked me to send him my latest stuff. He would never have done that had I not given him good scripts to begin with. So it was just another confirmation that you’ve got to keep writing. I sent my “West Wing” and my “Six Feet Under,” and those are the shows that got me “Battlestar.” Not a space ship between them.
Neely: Since your last steady writing gig ended several years ago, how do you support yourself?
Carla: I do, as you know now, some production work and the occasional office work. I’ll do almost anything legal. I learned at a very young age to take care of myself and to do what you have to do to survive. It means maintaining the rent; it means paying the electric bills so the computer will work; it means providing for basic personal needs such as sunblock and bourbon (laughs). I live simply, somewhat frugally. It’s difficult but I signed on to do this; nobody forced me to live this life. This is definitely something I want to do and it is something, perhaps, that I have to do. I’m very good at budgeting myself from the standpoint of money and time. For instance in the latest production job that I have now, I try to time it in ways so that I set up the preproduction and then don’t have to do the whole film. At this point, I’m surviving, I’m okay; otherwise look for me on an off ramp near you.
Neely: Who has helped you along the way?
Carla: Obviously I have to say Ron Moore has been great to me. He remembered me over a period of 3 ½ years and he agreed to read my work. He will always mean the world to me. I also had a great opportunity to meet with Glen Mazzara after he read some of my work. He invited me to pitch for “The Shield.” It was a job I didn’t get but he was extremely encouraging to me. He’s an asset to this Guild Access program. I have the pleasure of sharing the Writer Access Program with Melody Fox. She’s been a terrific friend to me; she understands the business inside and out; and she’s willing to give me tips on how to fight the discouragement that she knows I feel. There’s no reason I shouldn’t feel this way when things aren’t going the way they should go. Also, anyone who reads me and gives me notes, even if they’re just verbal notes, offers help to me. There are a lot of situations where I don’t necessarily incorporate the notes, but it always helps to see what kind of hiccups there are in particular scenes or lines. When more than one person makes a similar comment, I immediately know it’s time to address it and to make changes; and in some cases, completely delete a scene. If something’s not working and all the fixes are just making it worse, I give it the finger – I hit the delete button and hold it there.
Neely: What do you read? Any writers from whom you’ve taken particular inspiration?
Carla: I used to read a lot more than I do now but I do find myself, once again, going back to some of my favorites. Anything by Kurt Vonnegut works for me. All through my childhood I read his books and they still transport me; they calm me in a way that nothing else can. I also read D.H. Lawrence and Dickens and a good deal of Science Fiction; I’ve always read it a lot more than I watched it. I like some of the really well known writers like Arthur C. Clarke and Philip K. Dick and some of the more obscure ones like Olaf Stapleton. I also read and still read a lot of plays, both classic and more modern fare – Edward Albee, Shakespeare, and recently “The Vertical Hour” by David Hare. So, yeah, reading does help me. It calms me.
Neely: What do you watch in your spare time?
Carla: Being a life long baseball fan, I watch baseball on every channel. And of course I catch up with the primetime shows, anything I missed during the season. I know that sometimes people complain about TV; I’ve pretty much been the opposite. I’m always surprised by how good a lot of TV is. I would almost much prefer to stay home and watch a TV show than to go out to a movie.
Neely: Well what are your favorites?
Carla: Of the current crop or the past?
Neely: Current.
Carla: I was a big fan of “Lost.” I definitely miss “Lost.” Currently I like “Castle,” “Psych” and “White Collar” on USA, I like “The Good Wife.” I’m so leaving things out.
Neely: What about “Glee” and “Modern Family”? Any comedies?
Carla: “Glee” and Jane Lynch. Yes! I love Jane Lynch. She is one of those people that I would love to write something for. “Glee” is a great one for me.
Neely: If you could get anyone to read “Bedlam, New York,” who would it be?
Carla: This is such a good question. I’m not sure I have a succinct answer. First of all it would have to be someone who enjoys good banter. I hope I can call it good without coming off as pompous.
Neely: No, it’s really good banter.
Carla: The names that pop out at me are Aaron Sorkin, Amy Sherman-Palladino; they both did shows with marvelous banter. How about the ghosts of George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart? If I have to go to the afterlife for it, I’m ready.
Neely: Before when I asked you what shows you watched and you indicated that there were some past shows that you really liked. What are some of your very favorite shows from the past?
Carla:. One of my favorite shows of the past is “Picket Fences.” That’s definitely a one hour that had so much in it. “Picket Fences” to me, it was almost as if the United States Constitution was a character in there with the way the town would get together and everybody had a place and everybody had their own way of doing things. Sometimes your favorite characters would definitely be on the wrong side of an issue. I really liked the way that they handled a lot of that. Definitely lots of comedies. I would say “Frasier,” “Seinfeld,” “Newhart,” “Sports Night,” In one hours it was “West Wing” of course because of all that smart banter. I’ve written some cop stuff myself, so I liked “The Wire,” “Six Feet Under,” that was a big one for me; but when I think about the time when I first wanted to write TV it was probably shows like “Picket Fences” and “Northern Exposure” that made me want to write one hour. They had imperfect characters and they had humor; they were infused with the satire of American contemporary life. I’m sure I’m leaving a bunch of them out but I’ve always liked shows with flawed characters who were faced with ambiguous agendas and where even the clergy were fair game. I know I’m leaving a lot out but those are the ones that popped into my head.
Neely: Clearly you were a big fan of David Kelley because you had a “Boston Legal” spec, and a “Practice” spec and you loved “Picket Fences.”
Carla: That’s hilarious because I didn’t even think about that until just now.
Neely: My ears perked up when you talked about your “Boston Legal” spec at the beginning; then you mentioned your spec for “The Practice,” and you clinched it with “Picket Fences.” I couldn’t agree with you more on your assessment of “Picket;” it was practically perfect and Constitutionally diabolical.
All I can say is that I truly loved your script. I was probably overly generous in the amount I published as a flavor to the story, but if I’d had my “druthers” I would have published more because the dialogue and characters were so sharp, funny and incisive. I would love to see it on television and hope it opens lots of doors for you. Thanks for spending the time.
Also, check out my recent article on Studio System: http://www.baselineintel.com/research-wrap?detail/C8/fall_network_myopia_take_a_second_look_at_these_great_scripts_and_tv_pilots
