by Bob Levy
How do writers make listeners fall in love with a character and care about what happens to them? That is part of the great art of pitching. Pitching, like most things, is a talent. Talent can be developed, encouraged, trained and to some extent taught. But to a great extent it’s innate. Some people are great pitchers. Others will always struggle. Producers try to find the best available writer for a project, but producers also look for writers who are talented pitchers. It may not be as important a skill as actually writing great scripts, but it makes selling a lot easier. Writers need to be realistic in their assessment of their own pitching talents, and if they need training and practice, they’re usually wise to invest in learning how to become better pitchers.
One technique writers use to pitch character is to take a two-step approach, to start with the general then move to the specific. Character pitches like these begin with the basics: name, gender, age, occupation and general appearance. Most pitches don’t get hung up on too many specific details of the character’s appearance. At the end of the day, the actual appearance of a character as the audience sees him will come down to casting, and the pitch is a long way from that step of the process. Pitches usually keep physical description fairly general. The character is “tall” or “chubby” or “hot.”
After providing the quick basics about a character, pitches then frequently define the character’s “type.” In Gossip Girl Serena might be described as the “ingénue” type. Blair would be described as the “jealous best friend” type. And Chuck Bass would be described as the “guy you love to hate.” Descriptions like these are known in pitching as “handles.” By defining the type a character is, the pitch provides the listeners with a “handle” to grab onto to place the character in context within the ensemble of characters that’s being pitched. The listener understands the character’s role in the show.
It’s crucially important that each character pitched sounds distinct from the other characters. Providing the listeners with these kinds of handles helps distinguish all the characters from one another in very simple and memorable terms. The development execs listening to the pitch are learning of these characters for the first time; they want to be able to get a clear picture of the ensemble of lead characters. Who are the characters the audience is supposed to root for? Who are the characters the audience is supposed to root against? Who are the lead characters’ allies? Who are her enemies? Which characters are potential love-interests? Before the rich details and complexities of characterization can be digested, the listeners want to be able to grasp the basics. Pretty Little Liars featured four lead characters, four sixteen-year-old girls who were equally important within the show. Marlene King’s pitch described each lead girl’s type so the listener had an easy “handle” to hold on to each of the girls’ distinct characters: Aria was the “artsy girl,” Hanna the “blonde hottie,” Spencer the “overachieving nerd” and Emily was the “jock.” These are four very general character types that make each of the four lead characters distinct from one another.
Once the pitch has provided a basic description of a character and placed the character within a character type, the second layer of description offers details that make the character unique and distinct from others within her type. There are lots of “blonde hotties” in teen shows. What makes this blonde hottie unique and distinct from all the other blonde hotties we’ve seen before? Pretty Little Liars was a show about secrets. Each girl had her own dirty secret that she kept from her friends and family. In pitching the Pretty Little Liars characters, King used the girls’ secrets to make each unique and distinct from her type. Hanna, the blonde hottie, had a big secret: She was a kleptomaniac, a shoplifter, who stole luxury items to try to keep up appearances because she lived in a competitive, upscale community and her parents had recently divorced, reducing Hanna’s mother’s ability to afford expensive clothes and accessories. Hanna stole them to make herself feel like she could fit in with her rich, attractive friends. She was a “blonde hottie” type that was then made unique, distinct and specific by also being characterized as a shoplifter.
To be crystal clear, pitches discuss each character individually and thoroughly before moving on to the next character. I’m using the examples here of the four Pretty Little Liars lead characters, but in the pitch each character would be discussed completely before moving on to the next character. Hanna’s basic facts, type and her unique secret – along with other details of character – were described before moving on to the next lead character.
Spencer was an overachieving nerd who studied all hours of the day and night to get good grades, but what motivated her to do this was that she was competitive with her older sister. Spencer’s older sister Melissa was a high school Miss Perfect who got straight As. Spencer worked hard to keep up with her sister’s legacy. Those “facts” defined Spencer’s type: the academic overachiever. They provided context and motivation for her type: She overachieved to keep up with her competitive big sister. But Spencer had a secret too: She was secretly deceiving her perfect older sister by having an affair with her sister’s fiancé. Now that’s a fun secret! Her type was “high school overachiever.” But what made her distinct from all the other high school overachievers we’ve seen on TV was that she was having a secret affair with her big sister’s fiancé. Her secret made her unique and distinct and helped define the extremes of her character. She was a “good girl” because she studied hard and got good grades. But she was a bad girl because she betrayed her sister. Those two simple details about the character made her familiar and relatable on the one hand (the handles), but unique and surprising on the other hand.
“Surprise” is an important quality in pitching TV shows (or any form of entertainment). The paradox that a good girl like Spencer could also be a bad girl who cheated with her sister’s fiancé is surprising. We think we know Spencer when we hear she’s an academic overachiever who studies hard to get good grades. Then we’re surprised when we learn she’s secretly a sex cheat (who betrays her own sister no less!). The surprise of that paradox is fun and provides a moment of entertainment delight. The perfect girl has a major flaw. The good girl has a moral weakness. The paradox of her character is surprising and fun.
This two-part approach to pitching characters (describing a character’s “type” followed by describing what makes the character distinct from her type) attributes complexity to the character, offers the opportunity to introduce small doses of surprise to the pitch, and, in the examples used above, provides a third effective element of character definition: victimhood. Everybody roots for an underdog and, interestingly, most of us sympathize with and identify with victims.
Let’s look again at some of the characters in Pretty Little Liars. Spencer was an academic overachiever. We don’t usually think of overachievers as victims and we’re not usually drawn to liking overachievers. In fact, we usually find them annoying. But Marlene King told us why Spencer was an overachiever: because she was living in the shadow of her perfect older sister, because she was trying to keep up with her big sister’s image. In effect, she was the victim of her big sister’s perfection. Hanna was a shoplifter. Again, not typically a very appealing quality. But King told us why Hanna was a shoplifter: because her father divorced her mother, abandoning Hanna and leaving her mom with a reduced income. Hanna is embarrassed by her family’s failures, and she struggled to keep up appearances in their affluent social circle. In the simplest of terms, Hanna wasn’t loved by her father. As Hanna said to her mom in the pilot script, “We got dumped.” In other words, she was a victim.
These simple character definitions, requiring only a few sentences of description, managed to 1) attribute complexity to the characters, 2) offered the listener a delightful small dose of surprise about each character and 3) engendered sympathy for each character by hinting at some form of victimization.
Another common strategy many writers use to pitch character is to suggest a well-known actor whose screen persona resembles th
e character. Writers might describe a character as a “Jennifer Lawrence type” or say about a male lead, “Think Ryan Gosling.” The listeners know Jennifer Lawrence will never actually play that role. She’s one of the biggest movie stars in the world. But associating the character being pitched with Jennifer Lawrence plants a specific mental image in the listeners’ minds. The reference to the movie star elevates the character being pitched. As the pitch is delivered the listeners think of Jennifer Lawrence (and all the wonderful qualities that make her such a big star) every time that character is referenced.
This technique can also be a helpful way of addressing race. Race is a very sensitive issue in Hollywood these days (as it is in much of our society). Network development executives are appropriately concerned with presenting ethnically diverse ensembles within the shows they develop. Frequently it will be necessary for a pitch to address this issue directly. The show Underground was about African Americans escaping slavery in the American South in the 1850s. The lead characters had to be African American and it was crucial in pitching the characters to identify which characters were black and which characters were white. In other cases, describing one character as “a Kevin Hart type” and another as “a Maggie Q type” can suggest the writer’s and producer’s intention to cast a diverse ensemble of actors.
Beyond description, character is largely defined by story. In the next section of the pitch the characters will be placed in motion. They’ll be confronted with obstacles, make choices and take action. The choices they make within stories will largely define who they really are, and that’s where the listeners will get a chance to discover what they’re really made of. I’ll get to that soon. The Character section for the most part is used to describe the characters at the outset of the story, at the outset of the series. The “before picture,” if you will. As the pitch continues into the following sections the characters will be put into action and become who they’ll be at the outset of the series.
It’s easy for TV viewers to keep characters straight. They’re played by actors who look different and wear distinct wardrobe that helps define them. But it’s hard for executives listening to a pitch to remember which character is which. They’re hearing the characters’ names for the first time. Because of this, pitches tend to describe as few characters as possible. Keeping straight more than five or six characters that you’re hearing about for the first time is difficult. Good TV pitches generally make very clear which characters are the lead characters that viewers will see in every episode, which characters are supporting characters who appear in fewer than all episodes, and which characters are what are known as “recurring” characters (not “re-occuring” characters; the correct term is “recurring”), characters who may appear in only a small fraction of the episodes. Successful pitches typically avoid pitching recurring characters unless absolutely necessary. Less is more. Most pitches only include the characters the listeners need to know to understand the concept of the series and how it works.
When pitching characters, good pitches build an ensemble of interrelated characters rather than just listing individual characters. With Gossip Girl, for example, we could simply list the lead characters:
Serena is an effortless blonde beauty with a wild streak and a heart of gold. Blair is the queen bee of her private high school, Constance Billard School for Girls. Nate is a handsome boy who goes to St. Jude’s School for Boys.
But the stronger way to pitch this ensemble is to tie them all back to the first character, to build from one to the next, defining their interconnections:
Serena is an effortless blonde beauty who moves home from boarding school and returns to Constance Billard, her old fancy private high school on New York’s Upper East Side. Blair was Serena’s best friend at Constance whose queen bee status in school is now threatened by Serena’s return. Nate is Blair’s boyfriend, and Serena’s return rekindles old feelings in Nate, reminding him of a secret fling he and Serena had behind Blair’s back before Serena left for boarding school.
See how much stronger the second version is? And how much easier it is to follow a list of characters when their interrelationships are clearly defined and built one to the next?
Speaking of interrelationships, while it’s essential for pitches to give listeners a sense of the personality of all the individual characters, almost as important is to describe key dynamics between lead characters. Ross’s secret, unrequited love for Rachel and her indifferent recollection of him as her high school friend’s brother was just about as important to Friends as the characters themselves (at the outset of the series – that dynamic between the two characters would grow and evolve over time, of course). That crucial dynamic was both highly entertaining and a wellspring of numerous stories. “Relationships” describe connections between characters. “Dynamics” refers to how characters think and behave toward each other, the externalization of feelings between characters that viewers can see on the screen.
Lastly, a simple but important rule of thumb in TV pitches is to choose character names for the series regulars that begin with different first letters. “Karen” and “Tracy” are easier for both audiences and development executives to keep straight than “Karen” and “Kelly.”
Section 5: Pilot Story
The next section of the typical TV pitch format is the Pilot Story. As in all other parts of the pitch, brevity is key. Effective pitches only pitch as much of the pilot story as is needed to make the story clear, to put the characters into action, to demonstrate how the series works and to have an emotional impact on listeners. Good pitches use the pilot story to make listeners feel something. To surprise them. To make them laugh if it’s a comedy, to make them cry or feel tension if it’s a drama.
As mentioned earlier, the ideal length for an oral TV pitch is about 15 to 25 minutes, and the Pilot Story section is usually the longest section and typically takes roughly five to seven minutes of the total pitch, sometimes a bit more if necessary.
The Pilot Story is pitched in the present tense. Pitchers don’t say, “He did this and then he did that.” Use the present tense: “He does this and he does that.” “Is” not “was.” Pitching story in the present tense makes the story feel more immediate. The past tense sounds like a fairy tale you might read in a book. The present tense sounds like something we’re watching right now, right in front of our eyes.
Writers typically begin the Pilot Story by pitching the set-up, the starting place, the part of the story that’s known as the “status quo.” They pitch the lead character or characters occupying their world before the story’s major events occur.
A handy technique many pitchers use as they mention characters in the Pilot Story section that they’ve introduced earlier in the Character section is to remind listeners who each one is. If it’s a single-lead show like Breaking Bad, that’s not necessary. Everyone will remember who Walter White is from the description of him a few minutes earlier. If the series has more than one lead character like Pretty Little Liars, however, writers usually offer reminders about which character is which. If the writer doesn’t do that, a listener might think to herself, “I remember the names Aria, Spencer, Emily and Hanna, but I can’t remember which is which. Is Aria the shoplifter?” Marlene King offered short, parenthetical reminders as she pitched her pilot story. The first time she referenced Aria in the Pilot Story (after introducing her in the Character section) she reminded the listeners that “she’s the artsy one,” and when she switched over to Spencer’s storyline she reminded listeners that Spencer is the “competitive cheater.”
In some pitches, the Character section of the pitch will have sufficiently described the lead characters’ starting places so the Pilot Story section can pick up later in the story. Even though the status quo part of the pilot story might account for the first 20% of the actual pilot script once it’s written, there’s no need to pitch it again if the Character section of the pitch has already described the starting place of the lead characters. I
n that case, the pitch can begin the Pilot Story section with the first story turn, the first major, dramatic event that occurs to the lead characters that alters their status quo.
In Breaking Bad, the status quo occupies two areas of Walter White’s life, his home life with his family and his work life at school. At home he’s a husband and father. He’s loved by his family but is also the butt of his wife’s and son’s jokes. At work, in his job as a high school teacher, his status is even lower. While it’s clear Walter loves the subject he teaches and takes the instruction of chemistry very seriously, his students don’t appreciate what he has to offer them, and they treat him with disrespect. While his family’s jokes are affectionate, his students’ jokes are cruel and abusive. Walter’s life is a little pathetic. He’s emasculated at both home and work. That’s Walter’s status quo. (In other words, he’s characterized as something of a victim.) If that kind of set-up is included in the Character description section, there’s no need to repeat it in the Pilot Story section.
The Pilot Story section for a Breaking Bad pitch would begin with the first major “turn” of the story, the first major plot point. The first major turn of the pilot story is when Walter gets taken to a doctor after fainting, and the doctor tells him he’s dying of cancer. He’s got about a year to live. This news is the pilot story’s first major turn. This is the event in the pilot story that sets the story (and the series) into motion, the pilot story’s inciting incident.
Even though Breaking Bad was a far more sophisticated show than Pretty Little Liars, aimed at a more mature and demanding audience, Pretty Little Liars actually had a more complex pilot story. The Breaking Bad pilot told one story, the story of how Walter White became a drug maker. The Pretty Little Liars pilot actually told six stories, one small story for each lead character and two overarching stories that affected all four girls. Five of the six stories were pitched in the Pilot Story section of Marlene King’s pitch.