Laughing Out Loud Page 4
And the message for writers associated with name comedians is very simple: you have to know your man or woman well, both their "comic histories" and their possibilities for growth. Take, for instance, Jim Carrey's move from straight farces such as Ace Ventura: Pet Detective (1994) to more character-driven and, by his standards, subdued comedy such as Liar Liar (1996) and The Truman Show (1998).
Story- or Situation-Oriented Comedy
There are those comedies that make us laugh because the plots or situations themselves are so silly, so much fun, or simply so ludicrous that they pull us along primarily by good comic storytelling. Call to mind John Hughes's Planes, Trains, and Automobiles (1987), and we can't really speak of character development or social messages. But we can speak of the frantic fun, comically centered on the clock ticking as Steve Martin tries to get home for Thanksgiving while ending up with a loutish John Candy as a companion.
Similarly, the situation or concept of many comedies, especially dark comedies, overshadows both character and comedian performance, as in Terry Gilliam's Brazil (1985), Martin Scorsese's After Hours (1985), or Mel Brooks's Blazing Saddles (1974). For such works, you as writer might purposely avoid including a known comedian or a strong sense of character development because of the other effects you wish to create, as in Gilliam's dark humor about a sterile and dangerous future. Clearly such a division embraces pure farce, as in Mars Attacks (1997) with its Martian invasion of the White House. The hilarity is simply built in such a case on the nutty pleasures of flooding us with comic, special effects-generated creatures.
Character-Centered Comedy
Comedies in which we actually care strongly about a character because we can follow a degree of character growth tend to be, as we shall see in chapter 3, romantic comedies, or, put another way, comedies that employ drama and emotion as well as humor and thus are closer to "real life." These would include the classic American comedies of Frank Capra, such as Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and It Happened One Night, down to more contemporary comedies such as Woody Allen's Annie Hall and Hannah and Her Sisters and John Hughes's The Breakfast Club, and on to "mixed" comedy-dramas such as Steven Soderberg's sex, lies and videotape, Stanley Tucci's Big Night, and even Tarantino's Pulp Fiction and the Coen brothers' Fargo.
In each of these there is a plot too, of course. But what attracts us is the way in which richly formed and multifaceted characters are allowed to act, react, change, and grow before our eyes while also making us laugh.
Comic Characters
Back to our point in the introduction that nothing is inherently funny or sad but becomes so by means of perspective. If we apply this to character, we realize that anything that could be said about developing characters in general also applies to comedy. Is your character meant to be a simple caricature or type, as in the commedia dell'arte or as in farce and silent film comedy? Or if your figures are characters with depth, are they introverts or extroverts, cynics or romantics, vulnerable or hardened?
But comedy calls for a special understanding of what kinds of characters one wishes to populate a script with. Briefly stated, comic characters tend to be one of three types or a combination thereof: imposters, innocents, and/or ironic figures.
The imposter (alazon in Greek) is foolish, for he or she is pretentious and thus ready to be made fun of. The ironic figures (from the Greek eiron) are assertive and either actual tricksters-those trying to make things happen on the sly for their own advantage- or leaning in that direction. And there are variations: in American stand-up comedy, both nightclub and as practiced for over forty years on television, the wise guy (or, we can add, the wise gal) has been important. Media critic Steve O'Donnell defines these characters as "the sardonic, uppity common Man. The `wise' part of his name is a joke and also a tribute, because while he's no Socrates, the Wise guy really does make with the smart remarks" (155). Examples abound, from Groucho Marx and Bob Hope to Jerry Seinfeld and Bette Midler. Roseanne is a wise gal, and all the talk show hosts from Jack Paar and Johnny Carson to Jay Leno and David Letterman are wise guys.
Then there are the simple people, the innocents, who like Forrest Gump or Jim Carrey's Truman, seem to get by quite well simply through being passive or reacting to what is imposed upon them. In the extreme case, of course, as with Gump, the innocent appears foolish or, to borrow a concept from Russia, like a holy fool (Horton, The Zero Hour, 25). Holy fools are those who are called "touched by God" rather than simply "crazy" or "stupid": they are outside the normal realm of social and personal interaction, but they seem to "know" things we don't, thus demanding respect. Gump and Chance in Being There, for instance, fall into this category, as does the troubled pianist protagonist in Shine.
Put another way, we can appropriate Harry Levin's terms and speak of playboys and killjoys, meaning active troublemakers and humorless blocking figures. Of course, comic duos usually embrace one of each to evoke belly laughs: thus Laurel is the playboy to Hardy's killjoy (or straight man) and Paul Newman's Butch is the playboy to Robert Redford's poker-faced Sundance Kid in George Roy Hill's classic buddy Western comedy.
Comic elements are often combinations of these character elements. Seinfeld is definitely an ironic figure, and yet at moments his innocence shines through, while Homer Simpson is almost always the alazon, putting on and pretending to be what he isn't, as Marge and the kids constantly remind him. And while Robin Williams became famous as the ironic, manic, fast-talking trickster figure, he has in more recent years worked on his vulnerable and innocent side in films ranging from The World according to Garp to Good Morning, Vietnam.
Note that comedy, in relation to "character," often playfully calls identity and individuality into question. Consider how many comic plots involve pairs, twins, and doubles and the requisite switching and disguising of identities.
In some cases, we are not speaking of main characters at all. A League of Their Own, the Monty Python films, Mediterraneo, M*A*S*H (both film and television series), City Slickers, The First Wives Club, and, from television, Cheers, Northern Exposure and Friends are all examples of ensemble comedies in which the laughter comes from making sure you have a diverse enough group of figures to generate conflicts, contradictions, and plain old comic confusion. But within these groups, we can definitely find the boasters, the ironic figures and the clueless.
Comic Plots
Once more, what works for any sort of storytelling can be adapted for a comic plot. But I wish to propose a simple list, built around one presented by film scholar Gerald Mast's identification of frequently used comic plots.
i. The Journey (picaresque plot). From Don Quixote to Chaplin and on to Preston Sturges's Palm Beach Story or the fine Yugoslav road comedy, Who Is Singing Over There? (i98o), the Journey allows for any number of adventures to occur, mixing both surprise and suspense, depending on how such a "road comedy" is defined.
2. Reducto ad absurdum involves taking an idea to extreme lengths. We shall discuss this in chapter 3 as the basis of anarchistic comedy from Aristophanes to Monty Python.
3. Parody and burlesque. Playing with a specific text or genre in a clearly exaggerated and distorted comic vein characterizes plots from Bananas (a spoof of revolutionary films) to Space lam, a send-up of sports films, as 'toons meet Michael Jordan and the boys.
4. The wedding of young lovers is, as we shall discuss, the basis of romantic comedy from Frank Capra's It Happened One Night to Pretty Woman, Four Weddings and a Funeral, and beyond.
5. Central character with a difficult task or quest. Add the common twist from action and drama of a "clock ticking" for urgency, and you have a very adaptable plot, from Buster Keaton trying to find a bride by midnight to receive an inheritance (Seven Chances) to Robin Williams attempting to be a maid in order to court back his children from his ex-wife (Mrs. Doubtfire).
6. The consequences of one magical or surreal element. Jim Carrey can't lie in Liar Liar. John Travolta is an angel who both upsets and helps clarify the lives of those he
"touches" in Michael. Television's Early Edition centers on the concept that somehow a major city's daily paper arrives at our protagonist's apartment every day one day early, thus allowing him twenty-four hours to try to change "history."
7. An innocent reacts to situations thrust upon him or her. Forrest Gump is clueless as to what's going on, but his reactions take on worlds of their own. Likewise, Peter Sellers as Chance in Being There is forced to cope with life outside the realm of the only two things he knows (television and gardening) with comic and spectacular results. This is the basis of Voltaire's memorable novella Candide as well.
8. Fish out of water. This plot-very common in comedy-is one in which a character or characters have to deal with an environment that is not what they are used to. Trading Places would be a prime example, as Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd are "switched" and must fend for themselves in social worlds neither ever knew before as part of a mischievous bet between two wealthy old brothers. As seen below, this plot can often be seen as "inversion."
Comic Plot Devices
The great French philosopher Henri Bergson outlines three plot devices that appear frequently in comedy: repetition, inversion, and reciprocal interference of series, which we would call either crosscutting or parallel action (61). Let us take a closer look and add a few devices of our own to the list:
Repetition
If it's funny once, it will be funny again, especially with slight variations. Although it is enough that Oedipus walks out onstage once with his eyes gouged out in Sophocles' tragedy, comedy thrives on repetition. And this goes for verbal or visual repetition. Hugh Grant says "fuck" at least a dozen times in the opening of Four Weddings and a Funeral and, never mind whether some audiences might be offended by such Anglo-Saxon speech, with his harried British accent and because each situation for this verbal outburst is slightly different, the laughter builds and builds. Similarly, Preston Sturges's Sullivan's Travels follows not just a journey made by a famous Hollywood director of comedy who wants to discover "real life" but four separate journeys, with each one shedding different laughs at and insight into Sullivan's character.
And repetition can mean multiplication too, as seen in Keaton's short The Play House, in which he plays every member of an orchestra onstage and every member of the audience. (A title card appears: THIS MAN KEATON SEEMS TO BE THE WHOLE SHow!) Similarly, Michael Keaton (no relation, apparently!) "repeats" himself wildly in Multiplicity (1997).
Inversion
Turn most things or situations upside down or inside out, and through inversion, you have laughs. Think how many memorable comedies are based on this simple device. City Slickers allows Billy Crystal and a gang of friends to turn their daily city lives upside down as they become modern dude ranch cowboys, and the Czech film Kolya turns a dedicated and aging bachelor's life inside out as he is forced to care for a Russian boy he finally comes to love. Gender-bending stories from Some Like It Hot to Tootsie and beyond thrive on the laughter generated when men are forced to "become" women.
Reciprocal Interference
Either through crosscutting or a split screen, "reciprocal interference" can often guarantee laughter. Four Weddings and a Funeral has us laughing out loud as we follow at least four individuals or groups preparing to attend a wedding in very different manners. This technique emphasizes contrasting actions happening simultaneously. Sturges uses the credit sequence in The Palm Beach Story to tickle our funny bones, as we crosscut between a bride and a groom being kidnapped by a seemingly lookalike couple, who then show up at the church to be married themselves. What we learn later is that one set of identical twins kidnapped the other!
To Bergson's list we can add several standards of comic plotting and characterizations.
Disguise and Exaggeration
Consider the importance of disguise first. As we shall see, Shakespeare thrived on disguise scenes and Aristophanes was a master of exaggeration. Who, for instance, could be more "exaggerated" in word and deed than the Saturday Night Live gang or Monty Python? And from Peter Sellers's fruity disguises in his Pink Panther comedies to Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie or Robin Williams trying to put his "face" back on as Mrs. Doubtfire, the hiding of identity has always worked for comic mileage.
Exaggeration is yet another comic tool that needs no explanation. In The Gold Rush, it's not just that Chaplin is hungry but that he is so starved he winds up eating his boot and shoelaces as if they were spaghetti. Hunger is thus depicted with such exaggeration that we laugh. And Jack Nicholson as a misanthropic recluse in As Good As It Gets is not just worried about cleanliness, he is OBSESSED with it: we see in the credit sequence that he has a cabinet full of bars of soap and disposes of each one after a single wash. Allow yourself the freedom to exaggerate as much as you wish, realizing you can always tone it down if what you have written is too far over the top.
Interruption
Luis Bunuel understood how funny it is to simply interrupt an action, especially if that interruption becomes a repeated one. As we shall discuss in chapter 7, his Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972) concerns a group of upper-middleclass folk who are interrupted every time they try to eat, each instance funnier than the one before. Interruption can, of course, be effective in dialogue as well as in action, for interruption clearly expresses the clash of opposing personalities. The humor surrounding interruption comes not just from the action itself but the reaction as well: what effect does an interruption have for each character involved? And that brings up one final device.
The Reaction Shot
Buster Keaton was a master of the slow burn, the stone face, that pause as he considers what has happened or is about to happen. So much of comedy depends on the reaction evoked in the characters. The Broadway musical (if you can call it that) Stomp takes noise, rhythm, and percussion sounds as far as they can go, but a lot of what holds the show together, since no words are spoken (or sung!), is the use of reaction "takes" of the characters onstage to each other and to the audience. Yes, this is the simple and ancient art of mime, but it works brilliantly, as one "stomper" faces the audience and mugs a disapproval face to the audience's attempt to clap in rhythm. The audience roars.
As you write your script, add lines to suggest that we see the reactions of the characters to the comic business you have stirred up.
Chapter Summary
Elements of Comedy to Consider in Your Scripts
i. What comic climate do you wish to establish: satirical, humorous, farcical, or ironic?
2. Is your comedy primarily comedian-, story/situation- or characterdriven?
3. What kind of comic characters have you created: imposters, innocents, or ironic figures, or combinations of two or more?
4. What comic plots are you employing, knowing that some of the most frequently used in comedy include
A. The Journey (picaresque plot)
B. Reducto ad absurdum
C. Parody and burlesque (often a very loose structure)
D. The wedding of young lovers (romance)
E. Central character with a difficult task or quest
F. The consequences of one magical or surreal element
G. An innocent reacts to situations thrust upon him or her
H. Fish out of water
5. Have you employed such comic devices as repetition, inversion, reciprocal interference, exaggeration, disguise, interruption, or reaction shots?
Yes, some writers wake up, shower, get dressed, make a cup of coffee, sit down at the computer or go up onstage, and can be funny immediately, on demand, on time, in rare form. But for the rest of us it's part inspiration, part study, part habit. This chapter focuses on exercises and practices aimed at helping you stretch your comic muscles, learn more about tickling your own funny bone (and other people's), and maybe pick up some inspiration for the scripts you want to write as well. There is no need to do all that is offered here, and certainly no one is standing over you saying, "Do these in the order presented." I would imagine that many woul
d find it helpful to refer back to this chapter, and to keep on using some of these exercises and hints.
Four suggestions to put all in gear:
i. Draw up a "comic profile" of yourself.
2. Turn your workplace into a comic environment.
3. Consider having a writing partner for comedy. Even if you write alone, find someone who can be your "comic sounding board."
4. Form a comic story circle that meets regularly, following the set guidelines for story circles.
Your Comic Profile
Keep a comic profile journal of yourself. You may or may not wish to show this to anyone else, but mainly it is for you and you alone. You shouldn't analyze yourself to death. But there are lasting rewards in casting a playful and observant eye over your life and those who have influenced you.
Ready? On the cover-why not a picture that makes you chuckle or laugh out loud? On separate pages, deal with the following:
• Three early funny memories from your childhood.
• Who seemed to have the most humor: your father or mother? How would you describe their humor? Or if your parents had NO humor, what relative or close family friend did?
• List several friends you loved because of their humor, the ones that really made you laugh. How did they do it? Were they aware they were funny, or, like my wonderful grandmother on my mother's side, were they funny because they didn't know they were funny?
• Can you get hold of a handful of photos from family albums that capture humorous moments, or those moments we are all familiar with that were not at all funny at the time, but in replay are a stitch! I still have one of myself, for instance, age two, completely covered in green paint that a hired fence painter had left open while he took a lunch break and that I had, with true delight, discovered.
• Ten comedies that have given you great pleasure (see appendix i). Don't start to analyze: just list! But once you have your list, you might want to remember what it was that worked so well for you.