And a popular show reminds us of the power of a classic screenwriting tip
This whole ‘Hollywood is dying narrative’ is sillier than a candy cane cobbler.
Trust me, if Hollywood disappeared tomorrow and all we had were TikTok shorts and Youtube conspiracy videos, our society would implode.
You know, a while back, I asked myself, “Why do I care so deeply about movies? Why do I want to write them, produce them, devote my life to them?” The answer that came back: I want to bring entertainment to people.
Most people’s lives are hard. They’re paying high rent and higher mortgages, covering never-ending bills and taxes, dealing with health issues both minor and serious. They worry about family. They’re stressed at work. Their relationships are unstable, exhausting, and unpredictable.
Movies and television matter because they offer relief from that. At their best, they provide a chance to escape. And when they’re done really well, they provide hope! The most powerful heroes we meet in these stories are the ones who get knocked down repeatedly yet stand back up to fight again. It’s almost impossible not to root for them.
Those characters remind people that they can fight too. That the obstacles and depressions in their lives aren’t permanent, but rather temporary. If John McClane can survive a sealed Nakatomi Plaza, Nazi-adjacent terrorists, crawling over broken glass barefoot, and a couple of one-on-ones with Hans Gruber, then maybe I can get back on the horse after getting fired from my job.
I admit we’re going through a rough patch in Hollywood right now. But that’s mainly because the industry went all-in on superhero movies and now that they aren’t making money anymore, Hollywood’s having a tough time pivoting. And I get it. We convince ourselves that it’s better to keep fixing up that old car than buy a new one. But it’s time for Hollywood to buy a new car.
And what’s cool is, YOU GUYS get to influence what car they boy. Often “what’s next” is determined by some unexpected hit movie. That’s what signals the town that, “This is what audiences want next!” And then, in classic Hollywood style, they go all in. So, it’s up to the people who read this site to challenge their imagination and try to see the future. What do you think people want that currently isn’t available? If you can answer the question, write a script about it.
You want to know what I think the next big lane is going to be? I think it’s going to be big-budget sci-fi. Cause sci-fi hasn’t been good lately. It’s been wrapped inside of Marvel movies, where it’s mostly become bastardized. As a result, there haven’t been a lot of great sci-fi movie options. Dune, maybe. But that’s it.
If somebody could come up with a really original sci-fi take, the way Star Wars felt brand new in 1977 and The Matrix felt brand new in 1999. That could mark the next big trend in Hollywood. Cause I don’t think this Supergirl movie is going to save the superhero industry. It just doesn’t look unique enough.
Okay, it’s time to talk Pluribus Episode 7!
I think I’ve finally figured this show out.
When you create a show, it’s important to have a “North Star,” which is a metaphor for a direction you can always go towards when you’re lost.
You can do this in feature writing as well, but it’s more important in television because the story is so sprawling. It goes on for years. So it’s easy to get lost. And when shows fall apart, it’s usually because they didn’t have that north star guiding them.
I figured out the north star for Pluribus.
It’s: SHOW DON’T TELL
Never has that been more evident than in the most recent episode, Episode 7.
The episode is, sort of, a two-hander. The “hive” have long since left Carol after she nearly killed one of them. This leaves Carol on her own and that means she’s got to come up with things to do during her day. So she works on her golf game from the top of a skyscraper. She steals a bunch of high-grade fireworks and lights them up at night.
Concurrently, one of the only other 12 people who hasn’t been infected by the hive, Manousos, begins this long trek from deep in South America, to get to Carol. Manousos HATES the hive even more than Carol does and, therefore, despite their constant attempts to fly him to New Mexico, he ignores them and continues to drive north, eventually ditching his car because he has to trek, on foot, through hundreds of miles of jungle.
At first, I hated this episode. For 25 minutes, we see Carol playing golf and lighting fireworks, as well as Manousos driving through the South American countryside. There is little to no dialogue. It’s all visuals. And because of that (because there was no drama) I actually turned it off after those 25 minutes, deciding to finish it the next night.
The second half was much better. For Manousos, he has a clear flaw, which is that he refuses to listen to anybody, regardless of his own well-being. And what’s kind of interesting about the episode is that that’s similar to what Carol is going through. She doesn’t want help from these people. She doesn’t want to be around these people. So it’s a theme that’s guiding the episode.
Manousos’s storyline kicks into high gear when he reaches the edge of the jungle he has to trek on foot. Several of the hive-mind humans step in front of him just as he’s about to begin the trek and warn him that there’s basically zero chance he’ll survive. Manousos, being stubborn, disregards their advice.
This is a great dramatic setup that any writer can use. You tell the audience: If your hero chooses to go forth, he will die. Now you’ve got our full attention. With the beginning of the episode, Manousos was just driving. There was no drama. With Carol, she was just existing. There was no drama. The warning from the hive-mind finally infused the script with some drama. We had to watch to see if Manousos would somehow survive a 100 mile trek through the most inhospitable place on the planet.
It was around this time that this “north star” guiding principle became clear to me.
Vince Gilligan is very big on SHOW DON’T TELL.
And, of course, this has always been some of the most popular screenwriting advice you’d get. For good reason. There’s something about characters telling us something that doesn’t resonate the way it does compared to when we see it with our own eyes.
There’s this moment in Star Wars where Luke Skywalker and Obi-Wan are trying to buy passage off of Tattooine from Han Solo and Han asks for this obscene amount of money: 10,000 republic credits. Luke gets pissed off, replying, “Ten-thousand?? We can almost buy our own ship for that.” “Yeah but who’s going to fly it, kid,” Han replies. “You?” “You bet I can, I’m not such a bad pilot myself.”
And that’s it! That’s the only information we get about Luke Skywalker being a pilot before he’s tasked with taking on the Death Star at the end of the movie. And most people never pick that up when they watch the movie for the first time. Why? Because it’s just words. And you would think that George Lucas would know that: how much more powerful showing is. So why didn’t he SHOW Luke Skywalker flying a ship instead of telling us? It would’ve been a much better setup for the ending.
Guess what?
He did.
In the original rough cut, Lucas shows Luke piloting a ship. But they had to cut it for time.
The point is, “SHOW DON’T TELL” has been around forever and you should always be trying to integrate that mantra into your storytelling.
WITH THAT SAID…
You can take it too far. Just like any screenwriting advice. And I think that’s what Gilligan is doing by making SHOW DON’T TELL his north star in Pluribus.
Because what we ultimately learn in this episode – that Carol is insanely lonely and has nothing to do, and Manousos has to chart a path 3000 miles north – is told completely via “SHOW DON’T TELL.”
And it gets tedious.
Audiences are more savvy than you think they are and they pick up on things quicker than you think they will. You could’ve shown Carol in her cul-de-sac street, looking bored out of her mind, shooting fireworks, and conveyed her loneliness from that scene alone. You didn’t need the golf stuff.
Concurrently, did we need 10 minutes of “show don’t tell” driving from Manousos to convey how long his journey was? No. You could’ve gotten there in half the run-time with the same effect.
Now, I will say this: Both of the payoffs for these long “show don’t tell” storylines were strong. (Spoilers) We see Carol paint some mysterious lines on her cul-de-sac, only to later see Zosia show up at her door and Carol run to her and embrace her, breaking into tears. It’s a great “show don’t tell” payoff of just how lonely she was. And then when we pan up from them, we see what Carol’s street painting said, which was the message: “Please Come Back.” Another “show don’t tell” payoff.
For Manousos, he predictably becomes dehydrated and physically unstable in the jungle, ultimately slipping and severely injuring himself. He eventually passes out, but before doing so, sees the faint outline of a helicopter above him.
So, what’s the point to all this? Gilligan is perfectly fine living by the show don’t tell and dying by the show don’t tell. He’s determined to tell this story through actions and imagery as much as possible, and to only use dialogue when it’s necessary.
I think it gets him trouble. There are too many slow sequences in this show. And no matter how much showing not telling is going on, it can’t save elongated stretches of story. So, use show don’t tell when it makes sense. But don’t over-rely on it. Sometimes, the best course of action is a character explaining things or talking to someone else. The hive-mind people warning Manousos before he enters the jungle is the perfect example. If Gilligan would’ve tried to “show don’t tell” that moment, we wouldn’t have felt nearly as much fear and danger for Manousos, which would’ve lowered the dramatic tension considerably.
Did any of you watch the latest episode?
What did you think?
