How to Introduce an Ensemble Cast in Six Minutes (non-fiction, review)
(This is Us, Season 1, Episode 1)
This is Us is the first show I’ve seen pull off a multi-generational story and still keep its characters fresh. The expansive nature of the show makes it difficult to break down, but I believe we can look at the first six minutes of the pilot episode to get an idea of how the creator makes this work. There are five main characters, who we are introduced to in a series of scenes split between them. We see them in their lives, all at age 36. In future seasons, the character total doubles as the families develop and age into the different phases of adulthood. Mothers become grandmothers, children become parents, and parents die.
What happens in the first six minutes:
In an older, 70s-style house, we meet Jack and Rebecca. Rebecca is very pregnant and is hesitant to fulfill her birthday-dance tradition for Jack (who is turning 36). She asks if he’s in his birthday suit before sauntering out with lingerie over her maternity clothes. She makes a joke about how fat she is, and he reassures her. Their relationship is good and they have chemistry. Jack jokingly tells his unborn triplets to look away because he’s about to do something naughty to their mother, to which Rebecca responds: “I bet I can make that go away… my water just broke.”
Kate is one of Jack and Rebecca’s triplets. It’s her 36th birthday. She stands, staring into the refrigerator at all the notes she’s left for herself on the food. The birthday cake says: “Do not dare eat this before your party, Kate. Love, Kate.” She rips the post-it note off and another one underneath is revealed: “Seriously, what is wrong with you?” At the scale in the bathroom, she’s taken off all of her clothes. The enemy stands before her, but she’s strong. She takes off her earrings and slowly puts the smallest amount of her foot on the scale, then the other foot. Unbalanced, she upends herself and falls off the scale, hurting her ankle.
Randall, who was adopted into the family as one of the triplets, is Black. He sits in his fancy New York office, looking at a computer screen filled with graphs and stock market projections. An e-mail comes in: “Good News.” But at the door are his coworkers, wanting to wish him a happy birthday. He laughs in a fake, I-want-to-jump-out-of-the-window way, but blows out the candles anyway. After they’ve left, he finally can open the e-mail. The agency he’s hired has found his biological father! There’s a rundown of his stats under the message: “him,” and a picture of his father, William.
Kevin, the final triplet, is introduced in a fancy L.A. actor-house with floor-to-ceiling glass walls. There’s a party, it’s his 36th birthday. We cross a bedroom: a statue of the comedy/tragedy masks, a poster of Richard III, and then The Man-ny. A poster of Kevin, shirtless, holding a baby and smiling. It’s very clearly a daytime comedy show. He’s an actor. There are two girls in his room, wanting to dance with him. But he’s preoccupied about his age. “It’s my birthday today. 36,” he says. One of the girls reassures him he doesn’t look it. He responds, a little sad, “Yeah… I do.” He gets up to dance with the girls, putting away the laptop he was using as a distraction, but can’t get into it. “You know where it all went wrong?” He says, before launching into a story about watching The Challenger disaster as a kid. “Maybe that’s when I realized trying to change the world just leads to being blown up in little pieces all over Florida… Maybe that’s how I wound up as The Man-ny.” A call from Kate saves him from digging a bigger hole. She’s fallen down and hurt herself. He leaves immediately to go to her house, where we learn that she works for him as his assistant. She says: “You’re the only good thing in my life, Kev.”
It’s important to note a few things here. The scenes above all happen in the span of 6 minutes and are intercut with one another at about 45 second intervals. We stay for a minute in the 1980s, with Rebecca and Jack, before moving forward to the 2010s to meet the kids, who are now adults. This breaks up the tension of the stories and creates a picture of a family, all independent, all within their own stories, building one larger narrative.
What This Six Minutes Tell Us About the Characters:
In the first scene, we get a sense of Rebecca and Jack’s relationship. Right away, we can feel there is chemistry between them. The pregnancy is truly a beginning, a shift in their relationship and a shift in their lives. Jack re-assures his wife that she’s still beautiful and that she still arouses him. We learn there are triplets in her giant belly. We’re introduced to their nickname throughout the series: The Big Three. It is Jack’s birthday and Rebecca gave him a small football towel, which he loves. All around the house things are in boxes, being packed. “Family Photos ’74 - ’79.” They have a birthday tradition, which Jack expects to be fulfilled even though Rebecca is very, very pregnant. It’s playful: “tradition is tradition.”
NBC’s “This is Us” shot of the post-it note from Kate to Kate
Transitioning to Kate, we are immediately aware that she has an eating problem and is working on it. It’s not said, it’s shown. In the refrigerator are many post-in notes: “throw this crap out”, “250-calories per spoonful.” There’s a sheet cake that says, “36 is just a number…,” in frosting. She looks at it wantingly, knowing she absolutely cannot eat it before her birthday party (implying it wouldn’t be the first time). Sadly, she goes to the bathroom. To the scale. She wanted fucking cake. But instead she’s determined to weigh herself. She strips off all her clothes, her necklaces, her earrings. She’s taken everything she can possibly take off before even trying to get on the scale. She wants a win today, but she’s scared. So she puts a toe on the scale, and then the very front of her foot. Then the other. But she’s unstable and falls backwards. She calls her brother, who comes over immediately. “You didn’t have ice,” he says, putting a tub of ice cream on her swollen and bruised ankle. They have a codependent relationship. She works for him, but he needs her too. Again, it’s not said, but it’s all there.
NBC’s “This is Us” Kevin in “The Man-ny” poster
Kevin, while we’re here, is so clearly described in the first few shots of his story. He’s wealthy, he’s an actor. As we pan through the room: The comedy/tragedy mask statue, which seems more like a decorator’s choice than his own, then the Richard III play poster. He’s a serious actor. He knows Shakespeare. He has aspirations to be something great. And then The Man-ny, which is what he’s actually known for. It’s his breakout role. A daytime comedy about a buff, good-looking male nanny. There are models in his room, for his birthday, but he doesn’t really care. He’s not mean about it, just pre-occupied with himself. His age. The potential for real success is slipping further away every year. But when his sister calls, he’s out of there. Girls, party, friends, a nice house - none of that matters at all. Family is first.
NBC’s “This is Us” In Randall’s office
Randall, who is an outsider immediately by the color of his skin, sits alone in his office. It’s a big office in a big city. He’s an important person who has worked hard for his position. But he’s missing something. His biological father. We don’t know how he ended up in the family yet, but it doesn’t need to be explained. All of the other characters are white, and he’s hired an agency to find his biological dad, and they have! “Do you have a second, boss?” his assistant interrupts. They want to sing him happy birthday. The look he gives here is very telling. There’s weight to that day and that word. He’s the boss and they’re doing something nice for him, so he has to accept and play along; he’s a professional. But the second they leave, he’s back to the e-mail. Here, finally, is his father! We see a picture of William, who will play a prominent role in the show as both an old and young man.
Caution: Spoilers for the rest of the series:
In six minutes we, as the audience, have a wealth of knowledge about five new characters. This utility, masked in a subtle, charming episode opener, speaks volumes to what will come in the long run of the show (and the episode). After watching the Season 5 opener, I was curious how well the first episode held up and if the seeds that were planted then payed off in current episodes. After five seasons, characters change a lot - especially in such a sprawling, epic family story - so I was surprised to find a lot of the characteristics and motivations still applied.
Randall is still discovering himself as an adult. He’s still looking for family. After finding his father, a larger part of him opened up. His identity was shifted. His life changed, and is still changing.
After Kevin quit The Man-ny to pursue more serious roles, he had to confront his alcoholism and find himself again, older, wanting to settle down.
Kate, who found a husband (and best friend) in a food addiction group, must confront the fact that he has changed and she hasn’t. He’s succeeded, despite his own crippling depression, and in a way she is still the person from the first episode - older, but not better.
Jack, who died during the Big Three’s teenage years, stands over all of them. A turning point in their lives. A good father, a bad father, a lost person, speaking to everyone from the grave. Not literally, but through the habits and the memories of his children, and his wife.
Rebecca, who struggled to find herself after the loss of her husband, is strong. She had to be. She had three kids and a family to hold together. But she’s moved on. Made new traditions, which the entire family struggles with. She has a new life.
What’s fascinating to me, with This is Us, is the care each story takes, even when it’s a pretty stereotypical family drama. There’s a depth to the writing and the attention to character that doesn’t veer too far from its original intention. It goes to heavy places, it explores depression and obsession and addiction. But at the heart the show is honest. It feels authentic because the drama is earned. The story is huge, but it feels intimate. And that’s what is great about this show. That’s what sets it apart from other multi-generational family dramas on right now.
This is Us is currently running its fifth season on NBC (or available in full on Hulu).
Story Framing: "The End of the F***ing World" Season 2, Ep 1 (non-fiction, writing craft)
The Framed Story: The End of the F***ing World, Season 2, Episode One
Title Card: “The End of the F***ing World”
Framed stories are popular in modern prestige dramas because, as a narrative device, they act as a pre-show cliffhanger to compel the viewer, or reader, into the story. A popular example of this would be Titanic: Rose, as an old woman, tells us about the voyage her younger self took. The viewer starts in her current day and moves back to 1912, where the journey begins, only to return at the end of the story for context. The action, the romance, Jack on the bow behind her, are all framed within the device of her older self’s narration. This kind of embedded story can happen in multiple levels of nested story - but in TV and movies (unless you’re watching This is Us), there’s usually only one frame. The outer time, which exists at the beginning and end of the episode, and the inner story, which is set in an earlier period to give context to the frame.
In the second season of Netflix’s The End of the F***ing World, we are introduced to a brand new character in present time. Immediately questions arise: “Who is this? Did I forget they were already in season one? How does this relate to what I already know?” The audience is engaged and primed to take in new information. Bonnie is at a gas station and the guy behind the counter recognizes her from high school.
“So what have you been doing?” he asks.
She answers: “Prison.”
Suddenly the pocket knife he just rang up looks suspicious on the counter. “Oh, right… Why were you, uh…” he says, shaking his head awkwardly. “What did you do?”
“I killed someone,” she answers blankly.
Damn! Okay. So now we’re into a new story. Bonnie’s someone we have not met, but in a show about a pair of young runaways who (spoiler) happen to become murderers, we’re well prepared for a rather wild ride.
“Right…” the gas station clerk mutters.
She adds, “On purpose.”
But he cracks and starts laughing at her. He’s taking it as a joke. It has to be.
She smiles.
“You properly got me there.” He’s relieved, the tension changes.
And she laughs along. She grabs the pocket knife from the counter. “I’m gonna kill someone else now.”
Suddenly, the joke is less funny and the tension’s back. She pays and leaves the gas station. In her car, she throws the knife into the glove box where we see there’s a revolver and a book. Inside the book’s jacket is a newspaper clipping of season one’s female protagonist Alyssa!
The story frame has three parts: The beginning (the future), a flashback (the past) in context, which leads to: The End (back in the future).
A quick breakdown of the episode’s summary in these three parts.
Netflix’s “The End of the F***ing World” Season 2, Episode 1 - “I Killed Someone”
The Beginning (the future): As I’ve described in the setup, we start in the future. Bonnie in her late twenties at the gas station admits to being released from prison for murder and (not a joke) on the way to kill someone else. At this point we don’t know who.
Netflix’s “The End of the F***ing World” Season 2, Episode 1 - “I Learnt about punishment from a young age.”
The Past (flashback): Starting from childhood, we learn about Bonnie’s tragic upbringing. A strict and abusive mother, a father who left. Failing out of high school, then going to college to work instead. Meeting the professor from season one (who was the villain in a pivotal episode), then falling in love with his cruelty. Being betrayed by the professor, then believing his manipulation, which ultimately leads Bonnie to murder his new lover/victim with her car. In prison, the professor finally tells her he’s in love with her, which is what she’s always wanted. When she sends her response, it is returned. He has been killed (something that happened in season one) by our main protagonists - Alyssa and James.
Netflix’s “The End of the F***ing World” Season 2, Episode 1 - “Is Alyssa In?”
The End (back to the future): Out of prison, away from the gas station, in the daylight now, we see Bonnie exit her car and tuck the revolver into her waistband. She walks up to a nice house and rings the bell. Someone we don’t see answers.
“Hi,” Bonnie says with a smile. “Is Alyssa in?”
End Credits.
As you can see in the summary, the middle section is the meat-and-potatoes of the episode. In 25 minutes, we go from “who the hell is this?” to a full character with a motivation, all inside the frame of a few minutes’ worth of real-time. In a novel, this could be an entire book. The narrator in present day reflects on her past self, then goes on to justify her future action. But in a TV show, especially a short one, it acts as a quick and highly effective way to connect a new character to the audience. It takes the existing context and shifts it.
In season one, The Professor is happened upon by accident. While running away, Alyssa and James - through a series of misfortunes and bad deeds - end up at The Professor’s house because it appears to be empty. There’s mail stacked up in the box, no car in the driveway, etc. They find his stash of pedophilic video tapes and then he comes home. He tries to rape and possibly kill Alyssa, but James is hiding under the bed and kills him (something that James has been wanting to do since we met him in the first episode of the series. Kill.). Then the characters go inevitably towards a conclusion, which we can explore another day. But here, in season one, The Professor dies and impacts the main characters by the actions they took. In season two, the context shifts and now it has impacted someone else. A new villain arose from their action, unbeknownst to them! It’s a great way to build context and depth into not only a new character, but a new season.
In the second episode of season two, we’re treated to a very familiar frame, but in a shorter context. In the first act of the episode, the story is framed in the same way: a future Alyssa narrates where she is and how she got there after the end of season one. But it’s only the first act. The same principle applies. Catch the audience up quickly to move on to the main story, but now with context. Who is this? Alyssa, we know her. Great. How the hell did she get where she is now?
When used effectively, a framed story is a great tool to bring the audience in and get them asking questions. It’s one of many ways to build character, backstory, and context for whatever story you’re trying to tell.
The End of the F***ing World is available to stream on Netflix. Season One was pretty good. Season Two was really great. The comic the show was based on, by Charles Forsman, was pretty good too.
PEN15 - “Vendy Wiccany” (Season 2, Episode 3) (Non-Fiction, Review)
In the greenhouse with Maya and Anna (Hulu’s PEN15, S2E3)
PEN15 is a show that fits neatly into the box of “things Michael will definitely watch.” Two middle school friends struggle with the coming reality of high school, relationships, family drama, and the internet. In the first season, Maya and Anna go through a series of first desires (first kiss, first period, first time talking to an older boy online, etc.), making a pact to experience everything together, as best friends. Created by, written by, and starring comedians Maya Erskine and Anna Konkle, the show pulls hard on what it was to be a teenager in the 90s.
To set up this episode, you need to know a few things:
- In season 1, Maya is hopelessly in love with the cutest boy in school, Brandt, who she ultimately gets felt up by in the janitor’s closet at the school dance (along with Anna, because they do everything together, awkwardly). At the end of this scene, Brandt tells Maya that he loves her. Season 2 reckons with this admission and whether it was really about getting the chance to feel her up (telling her whatever she wants to hear) or a real heartfelt admission (of which he is now embarrassed to have).
- Anna’s family is breaking apart. In season 1, her parents go on a retreat to save their marriage, which ultimately dissolves anyway. Season 2 deals with this reality. Her parents are separated but living together in their family house, trying to make co-parenting work while also trying to decide if they should fully separate through a divorce and live in different houses.
- Maya and Anna are not popular. They are nerdy and awkward and basically only have each other. Often, in school, they are ostracized, trying desperately to fit into many groups - trying to find a path to “cool.” In the previous episode, to great comedic effect, they join the wrestling team (Maya, to have time and physical contact with Brandt, and Anna to help Maya but also to fit in with the boys on the team and find that inevitable “coolness” that comes from being a part of sports.) Their efforts often fail them, due to their true nature as best friends and weirdos. This creates conflict between them, but also between them and the rest of the school. It’s a great way to build inciting incidents into the plot, allowing an entire season to remain intact while also feeling a bit random (like school as a younger person can often feel).
In this episode
Maya is at Anna's house, watching “Are You Afraid of the Dark?,” when they hear Anna’s parents fighting in the kitchen. They sneak over to find that this fight is actually quite violent (things are broken and thrown). They run from the house and enter a semi-real world filled with coincidence, absurdity, and childish play from this point, which on the second viewing highlights the question “how much of this is happening?”
In a clearing, far from Anna’s house, Maya tries to lighten the mood - to distract Anna from her reality - by pretending there’s a little green man who steals sticks when she’s not looking. They find a business card in a tree they are climbing on, for Wendy Viccany. Maya quickly transposes the name to create WICCANy. Wendy is the Witch Mother that now guides them and gives them power.
What follows is a great scene of character-revealing dialogue. They voice wishes to their new Witch Mother aloud, yelling to no one:
Maya (who is Asian American and struggles with her appearance and body hair): “I wish for blond hair!”
Anna: “I wish for more money!”
Maya: “I wish for my dad to be home!”
Anna: “I wish I wasn’t a problem!”
Maya: “I wish for a bigger house and no body hair!”
Anna: “Only one at a time. I wish for white jeans and that the closet never happened with Brandt!”
Maya: “You just said one at a time. For Omikochan to smell better!”
Anna: “I wish I had my period!”
Maya: “I wish for a group of friends that love us!”
Anna: “I wish for peace everywhere!”
Anna (Hulu’s PEN15, S2E3)
In this moment, again, reality seeps through. Maya, who is insecure about her body and appearance, focuses on herself but also the root of what she believes are her family issues. Her father, who is a traveling musician, is away. He only visits every few months. Her parents are together, but her dad is away. Maya believes if her dad were home, and they had a bigger house, things would be better. Blond hair and no body hair describe her ideal appearance. What she sees in magazines and at school (even in middle school). What she perceives as normal. A group of friends that love us admits that even though they have each other, always, they want to be popular (at least with a group of friends).
Anna, understandably (and central to the episode plot), focuses on her parents’ impending divorce. If there were only more money, her parents wouldn’t be stressed and maybe they wouldn’t divorce. She sees herself as a problem, getting in trouble at school, or in life, creating more stress for them through her teenage ways. If only she wasn’t so much of a problem, they would stay together. Anna wishes for white jeans (to be popular in fashion), and that she hadn’t been felt up by Brandt at the end of season one because it caused problems between Maya and her. She wishes for her period, something hanging over from last season that she never got. A first. Something, although she doesn’t know it for a few more episodes, that Maya has already gotten without her. I wish for peace everywhere. An end to problems.
As a quick aside before we get back to the plot of this episode. There is a great interruption in this set of wishes that breaks up the monotony of the format. Instead of “I wish...” ten times in a row, the dialogue is interrupted by the brief exchange about doing two in a row. This causes a very small disruption in the format, which makes it more authentic but also less monotonous.
After wishing, things start to happen. The real gets further away for a moment. Maya’s dad does come home, fulfilling her wish and solidifying that she does indeed have powers. She calls Anna and asks if any of her wishes have come true. The truth is, not really at that moment, but she stretches to look anyway. Later that night, Anna hears her parents have sex through the wall of her bedroom - hope. This hope drives Anna to create a book of spells.
In a greenhouse at school, which we learn they’re not supposed to be in, they set out to perform the ultimate spell casting - a crazed prayer to Mother Witch filled with the kind of wonderful gibberish teenagers make up and assign meaning to. They are discovered by some kids playing soccer nearby, who can see through a small opening in the greenhouse wall. One of the kids gets the principal and after a truly absurd and great speak-in-tongues/manic episode, they are both in trouble. Their parents are called. (This, in story structure terms, leads us into the Turning Point complication for Anna - her parents, who are already on thin ice with each other, fight more about how it is unclear to Anna what they are doing. They decide to fully divorce and live separately.)
While waiting for their parents to pick them up, Maya and Anna sit on the curb. Anna notices her crush from last season, who she performed a fall-out-of-love-with spell on, sitting on a bench. It worked! The lovey music that plays when he is around isn’t present and she doesn’t love him (as much). A girl sits next to him on a bench and she is forced to admit that she was wrong, it still kind of stings to see him with someone else.
For Maya though, who wished for Brandt to love her back (solidified by the spell in the greenhouse), the outcome is much more devastating. Anna notices him on his bike, behind them. Maya goes up to him and tries to find a way to tell if the spell worked. He calls her a freak and very loudly, very publicly, tells her he doesn’t love her and that Maya needs to leave him alone. The knife is plunged deep. (This is one half of Maya’s Turning Point complication. The other comes a few moments later when, after slamming her bedroom door in a fight with her parents about her weird school behavior, her brother comes in to tell her that she should just leave and that she sucks.)
Anna calls Maya at this moment, when things are the lowest for both of them, and says she found a spell to disappear forever. Anna is scary serious about this and tells Maya to meet her at their spot (the clearing, by the tree where the Wendy Viccany card was found).
When Maya arrives, Anna is already starting the ritual. She’s cut her hand, adding blood to the spell, and tells Maya to cut hers too. She’s found a way to disappear forever.
Here is the crisis: Should Maya go along with Anna, embracing the lowest point in their teenage lives, and “disappear forever”?
Anna’s ritual to disappear (Hulu’s PEN15, S2E3)
The climax: Maya stops the ritual with Anna and says that she can’t disappear because she needs Anna. She is her family. They are each other's family. Anna breaks down and reality, once again, sets in. Maya holds her crying friend, comforting her.
Resolution: The shot cuts to the same position in Anna’s yard - the same ritual items, the same crying friend in Maya’s arms, etc. - implying lightly that there was no clearing with the tree. There was no magical adventure. When they escaped the house in the beginning, they were/may-have-been always in the front yard of Anna’s house. Anna’s mom calls for her, it’s early morning, barely dawn, and Anna goes back home. Back to reality, stronger with the support of her friend.
While only a half hour, this episode feels like such a dense and complete look at these two characters - so much so that I would recommend it as a standalone view. I believe someone could watch this episode, having never seen the show, and enjoy it fully. The moments where reality seeps into play and surrealism are packed with authentic worry and devastation. The writer, Anna Konkle (the actress and character Anna), was very aware of when there needed to be truth and the real. While it’s not explicit, the moments when Anna is determined to “disappear” are heart wrenching and so accurately speak to those moments in early life when you don’t quite know if someone is serious or if they are being dramatic without serious consequence. Would Anna have really taken her own life and implied that Maya should too? Maybe! I believe maybe that could have been a real alternative to this climactic scene. The moments of Real support this. I wish I wasn’t a problem. The ritual to disappear isn’t playful or absurd or heightened in any way. It’s deathly serious.
The beauty of this show is in its authentic self. Anna took moments from what was either her own personal emotional journey, or that of many people she knew, and made it into the deep feeling of wanting to disappear forever. Seriously. Not as a joke, not as a dramatic reaction to something mundane - but in a way that reinforced the negative. The lowest of the low. Something has to change - either I die or I accept that this is life and seek to make a positive happen somewhere else. It’s the root of Being couched in a middle school girl’s spellbook. Anna casts the spell as “Presence is too much for those around…or those around too much... surely pretend we are gone… and never did exist.”
PEN15 sits on the razor sharp balance of awkward pre-teen emotions and the surreality of trying to become “adult”. There are moments of hormonal outburst (“stay out of my room, mom!”) paired with the effects of divorce on children - the breaking up of a family, the self-blame that follows, etc. There are moments of stark social truth; the insecurity of young girls, romance, and the bad behavior taught to young boys in culture. For a show set in the 1990s, it accurately highlights what is still very much a problem in our young people’s education and social capital. Divorce isn’t any easier now than it was twenty years ago, it’s just different. This separation of time, though, allows PEN15 to thrive in the authenticity of its author’s experience. Divorce and the end of family are not new to plot (or life), but the way it affects Anna’s relationships with young boys, and her best friend, are distinct. As an audience member, these moments feel like memory and not fabrication, which is hard to do - especially in a show that also has middle school sexual innuendo and a name like PEN15.
The first half of PEN15’s second season is out now on Hulu (along with the first season). The second half of the season was put on hold due to the outbreak of the COVI-19 pandemic, but is still planned to be finished in 2021. Please watch this show. I would love for it to continue.