Welcome to The Mandalorian Teleplay Chronicles. I will be reviewing every episode of The Mandalorian’s first season with an eye towards helping writers learn TV writing. Whether the show is a breakout hit or a Jar Jar Binks level bust, we’re going to be focusing on how to become better TV writers. Here’s a link to my review of the first episode here, a link to the second episode here, and here’s a link to episode 3.
Genre: Sci-Fi
Premise: The Mandalorian takes Baby Yoda off to a remote planet to hide from pursuing bounty hunters, but runs into a problem when members of a nearby clan ask for his help.
About: Jon Favreau wrote this fourth episode and Bryce Dallas Howard, who starred in Jurassic World and is the daughter of “Solo” director, Ron Howard, directed the episode. Dallas Howard has one directing credit to her name – a short film.
Writer: Jon Favreau
Details: About 38 minutes
It’s days like these that I wish I didn’t know as much about Star Wars as I did. It definitely affects my judgment. I knew, for example, that Jon Favreau wrote three episodes when he pitched the show to Disney. That means Chapter 4 would be the first episode of the show Favreau wrote *after* his original 3 episode self-contained story. So I was expecting something clunky, or, at least, not as purposeful, and that’s exactly what I got.
Something else I knew was that Bryce Dallas Howard would be directing this episode. I’ve been annoyed about this news ever since it was announced. You’ve got the first ever Star Wars show. You’ve got eight episodes. You want to make the show as amazing as it can possibly be. Your first job is choosing directors for each episode. In ANY room with ANY group of people, is there ANY scenario under which ANY person says, “You know who we need directing one of these? Bryce Dallas Howard.”
Of course not. It would never ever happen. There is a list of, probably, 2500 directors in the world who have more experience and deserve more of a shot and who are more qualified to direct a Star Wars episode than Bryce Dallas Howard. Which means that the only reason Bryce Dallas Howard is directing an episode is because someone got her the job. And you don’t have to look far to figure out how that happened. Her dad, Ron Howard, probably said that one of the conditions for him to come in and save “Solo” was that his daughter get to direct an episode of The Mandalorian. And that’s exactly why we get the worst episode of The Mandalorian yet.
Now I’m not going to lay all the blame on Howard. Favreau wrote this episode and he didn’t do her any favors. But when your episode looks like something out of a bad Syfy series, that responsibility usually falls on the shoulders of the direction. Especially when you’ve been given more money than 99% of the shows out there.
This silly episode starts off with the Mandalorian flying Baby Yoda to a remote planet to, I think, hang out for a few weeks and let the heat die off them. Immediately, they go to some Star Warsian Starbucks, and that’s where the Mandalorian sees a woman drinking a puppychino. For some reason, he believes she’s a threat to him, and therefore follows her out back where they get into a fight.
The fight ends in a draw which means that now they’re best friends. Um, okay. Soon after, a couple of locals approach the Mandalorian and ask for his protection. Their nearby clan is being bullied by some neighbors. Mandalorian sees this as an opportunity to get Baby Yoda further away from danger so he takes the deal. And New Chick comes with cause why not?
Once at the village, a hot widowed woman flirts with Mandalorian, telling him he needs to take off his helmet more. Then Mandalorian and New Chick teach the locals how to fight and shoot, a task that takes all of 40 seconds. They then wait for the bad guys to approach. They come that night with an Imperial AT-ST walker and the fight is on. The good guys win but Star Wars fans lose. The end.
In television, the fourth episode is really where you start to see if the show is working. The novelty has worn off. We’re a month in. Are we getting consistent quality entertainment or aren’t we?
From a writing perspective, your approach to episode 4 shouldn’t be that different from your approach to episode 3. You’re trying to expand the mythology to imply a bigger world, a bigger threat. Why are you doing this? Because we want viewers to start making a mental long-term commitment. It’s like dating. You want the other person to start seeing you in their future, not just the next dinner date or next late night booty call.
The Mandalorian didn’t go there though. There was one moment where it had the opportunity to but it didn’t follow through. The Mandalorian makes a comment about, “Why would an AT-ST be way out here in the middle of nowhere?” That’s a good question. Why? Is some fallen Empire villain putting together a nefarious plan? Nope. Turns out it was just some random happenstance thing! Oh well.
What the episode DID do was create a contained story for the episode. This I endorse. Too many TV shows use their episodes as formless blocks of time to move individual character storylines further along. If you’ve ever watched an episode of your favorite show and been disappointed that the episode felt empty and unfocused, this is often the reason.
Remember the very simple formula for creating a storyline for a TV episode. Present a PROBLEM and then have your hero try and SOLVE THE PROBLEM. Here we get this clan’s problem that a nearby clan keeps attacking them. So the whole episode is about teaching the clan to defend themselves and, at the end, fighting off the threat once they arrive.
In theory, the bones for a good episode are there. But there were too many problems.
The most obvious one was that there wasn’t enough time to make an episode like this work effectively. Who is this clan??? We’ve known them for two seconds. Why should we care whether they fight off the bad guys or not? You need time to build up an entire group of people, to build up the characters within that group so that we care for them. When you don’t effectively develop characters, they become cliche. They have no choice other than to be cliche because we don’t know enough about them to differentiate them from other characters we’ve seen. The same principle goes for the group. Don’t know what makes them unique = cliche.
But the real problem with this episode was all of the “Of Course” moments. “Of Course” moments are when something happens in a show/movie because “of course” it does. “Of Course” moments are things we’ve seen in a million other shows and movies, things that have become so ubiquitous that the use of even a few of them can destroy any chance of creating originality. The things we remember in a story are never the things we’ve seen before. They’re the things that are different.
Of course when the Mandalorian sees New Chick they get in a fight with each other that ends in a draw. Of course they both teach the clan how to fight in a cheesy montage. Of course someone is about to shoot Baby Yoda but at the very last second we hear a blast then see that New Chick has shot the killer first. A huge reason why this episode was so lame were all the Of Course moments. Nothing you write is ever going to stand out if you’re drenching your script in Of Course moments.
Another problem with this episode is that it was the first episode that moved from an ACTIVE storyline to a PASSIVE storyline. Your characters weren’t going out there and trying to achieve something. They were waiting for the fight to come to them. WAITING is often a storytelling death sentence. It can work. But the skillset required to make it work is more extensive than simply having your character go after something. The pairing of a “waiting around” narrative combined with a first time director doomed this episode before it was even shot.
Finally, I want to talk about THREADING in television writing. Threading is the act of weaving setups into episodes so that later episodes don’t feel too self-contained. With television, you want the fabric of every episode to connect to the fabric of every other episode. You do this by threading in moments or information in previous episodes.
The show “Evil” has been dropping nuggets throughout the first six episodes that our heroine’s husband is a tour guide on Everest. So when he finally shows up in Episode 7 and they dedicate a whole storyline to him, we’re not asking, “Wait, who is this guy and where the heck did he come from?” The show has been threading in little moments throughout its running time to prepare us for his arrival.
The Mandalorian could’ve threaded in a number of things that would’ve made this episode more connected, starting with the planet. For example, maybe the Nick Nolte alien used to live on this planet and told him about it. As it stands, he chooses the planet because his Navi-computer indicates it’s habitable. It feels random, which subcommunicates a lack of importance to the action. Again, a big reason why you felt nothing for this clan was because they were so random. Had they been more connected to the story, that could’ve changed.
Sticking with my “Playoff Series” analogy, The Mandalorian has now won two games and lost two. My biggest concern is that we haven’t provided the series with an overall goal. If anything, you’re setting up a reactive storyline (keep running away with Baby Yoda) which doesn’t work as well as an active goal (“Lost” – Get off the island). I’ve going to give Favreau the benefit of the doubt because, well, “Baby Yoda.” But this series isn’t on strong enough ground to be giving inexperienced directors jobs based on nepotism. This is freaking Star Wars. Let’s bring in some All-Stars and give the viewers the experience they deserve.
[ ] What the hell did I just watch?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the stream
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Use “tell by showing” moments to improve your dialogue. In this episode, the clan’s widow character asks the Mandalorian when was the last time he took off his helmet in front of others. When a character asks another character a question, one of the WORST things you can do is have the other character give a straight-forward literal answer. “Twelve years,” would’ve been a boring answer, for example. A trick is to look for visual cues in the environment to give the answer more pop. There are a group of kids playing nearby while they have their conversation. The Mandalorian says to her, “I wasn’t much older than them.” Boom. A WAAAAAY better answer. You can’t do this for EVERY response, obviously, but you should be using it every once in a while.
With The Irishman just having come out on Netflix (I haven’t seen it yet – will check it out this weekend), here’s my review of the screenplay from a few years ago! Can’t wait to find out how it’s changed. Will probably do a script-to-screen on Tuesday.
Genre: Crime Drama Biopic
Premise: A mob hit man recalls his relationship with one of the most well-known mobsters in history.
About: “The Irishman” is based on the book “I Heard You Paint Houses” by Charles Brandt. It’s a hot project due to Martin Scorsese potentially directing the all-star team of De Niro, Pesci, and Pacino. Steven Zallian, who adapted the script, is one of the best writers working today. His credits include American Gangster, Gangs of New York, Mission: Impossible, Clear and Present Danger, and Searching For Bobby Fischer. Of course, he won the Oscar for Schindler’s List back in 1993.
Writer: Steven Zallian (based on aforementioned novel by Charles Brandt)
Details: 135 pages – Draft 1-5, Sept. 15, 2009
The Irishman is yet another Scorsese foray into the criminal underworld, this one taking place in a period he knows nothing about: the 70s. The story isn’t truly based in the 70s. Scorsese, lover of flashbacks that he is, actually flashes back inside his 70s flashback film to the 1950s, where the bulk of the plot takes place.
Our real life hero is an average guy named Frank. Frank tells us (in classic Scorsese voice over) how sucky it is having to kill people, particularly people you know. Due to the friendship, you must master a cadence by which they don’t suspect you’ll kill them. As soon as they suspect you, they’re capable of anything, and all bets are off. So stay calm, wait for them to turn their back, and bang bang. Problem solved.
After explaining the art of the kill, we meet Frank’s good friend, Russell Bufalino. Bufalino wants Frank to join him on trip to an old friend’s wedding. Bufalino has some “business” to deal with along the way so he’d prefer to drive instead of fly.
Using this 1970s “present” as a framing device, Frank escorts us into an extended flashback where he tells us how he reached this moment in life. He first learned to kill back in World War 2. He was involved in a major standoff where Germans fired on him for 130 consecutive days. When the Allied forces finally surrounded the Germans, even though they surrendered, Frank shot every pleading German he could because of the hell they put him through.
After the war, Frank took a trucking job, immediately figuring out how to work the system. He’d steal steaks out of his own truck and sell them on the side. This led to him working for Russell Bufalino (the man he’s taking the road trip with in the 70s) who was one of the big heavies at the time. If you’ve seen Casino or Goodfellas, this portion of the screenplay will sound familiar, as passages are almost identical to famous passages from those films. “You wanted to bribe a judge, you asked Russell. You weren’t sure how much to give him, Russell would tell you. You wanted to up one of your guys, he’d tell you if you should. You wanted to get rid of someone – you needed Russell’s permission.”
Where the script really picks up is when Bufalino introduces Frank to Jimmy Hoffa. I had no idea this story was about Hoffa, so watching him show up was kind of like Justin Bieber showing up to your kid’s birthday party. Everything went up a level and all of a sudden it hit me: “Oh shit, we’re going to find out what happened to Jimmy Hoffa!” And indeed, that’s where the story goes.
For those who don’t know much about Hoffa (don’t feel bad – I didn’t know much myself), he became president of the biggest union in the United States and began lending out money to high class criminals from the union’s pension fund. This changed the face of America, as it infused mobsters with boatloads of cash, allowing them to organize crime in a way it had never been organized before. They say Vegas was built with this money.
Hoffa’s story is pretty fascinating (are you paying attention John Wilkes Booth?), so the entire second act is solidly entertaining. For example, Hoffa’s people donated tons of money to back JFK in the hopes that he would help them get back all the casinos they had built in Cuba, which Fidel Castro had claimed for himself once they severed ties with America. Incensed, Hoffa wanted JFK to kill Castro once he became president. Of course, as we all know, that didn’t go so well, and Cuba was lost forever.
In fact, the backing of JFK came back to haunt Hoffa. Kennedy’s brother Bobby HATED him and went after him relentlessly. Eventually, he caught Hoffa on tax evasion and he went to jail for 13 years. During this time, Hoffa wanted a place keeper union leader he’d be able to elbow out as soon as he finished his time. Unfortunately, the man who took his place became super-popular and wouldn’t let Hoffa back in. Hoffa’s insistence that he get that slot back eventually lost him a lot of friends and led to his downfall. Of course, we’re watching all this unfold through Frank’s eyes, and specifically his friendship with Hoffa, who considered Frank one of his closest confidants.
Overall, I really liked The Irishman. While I adore joking about Scorsese’s infatuation with flashbacks and voice overs, I thought they both worked well here. There’s something sorrowful about these old men, driving across Americana, tired, burnt out, brittle, contrasted against their prime, when they were both masters of the universe. The juxtaposition there was perfect. When you combined that with the larger-than-life character that was Jimmy Hoffa, someone I’ve always wanted to know more about, that’s what broke down the wall I usually put up when reading biopics. I mean this is a story that’s fun, interesting, mysterious, suspenseful, dramatic, inventive and challenging. I rarely see a couple of those things in a biopic, much less all of them. Maybe that’s because it isn’t your standard biopic, but that’s a discussion for another day.
My one major criticism of the story is the present day storyline. There just isn’t anything going on in it. They’re driving to a wedding. Every time we cut back to them, they’re still driving to a wedding. There’s no drama there. No conflict. Zallian seems to be using the 70s solely as a “Princess Bride” device – a way to jump forward in the 50s storyline whenever he needs to.
I actually thought the 70s storyline had a ton of potential. In the beginning of the movie, Frank tells us how difficult it is to kill someone you know, so I was sure that was in reference to him having to kill Bufalino. Had we been watching their friendship build over two hours back in the 50s, all the while anticipating Frank having to get rid of him at the end of the trip, that could’ve upped the suspense a hundred-fold. Or maybe we had it backwards, and Bufalino was going to kill Frank. And we’re sitting there wondering who’s going to kill who. It goes another way, and I think that way is ultimately interesting, but it definitely would’ve been nice to have something more going on here.
Where it really hurts the script though is in the final act, since we spend the entirety of that act in the present day. So little has happened in that storyline that it lacks the essential pulse that pushes a story to its ultimate conclusion. It’s hard to describe but those last 30 pages (and we are talking about a long script here, so that contributes to it) feel like the last 60 minutes of a long vacation. Your plane has landed, you’re barely able to stand, you’re waiting for your luggage, and all you want to do is get home and sleep. I’m not sure that’s the way this story should’ve ended.
But hey, on the whole, this was really enjoyable, especially the second act, which as we know is the hardest act to master. Of the four scripts I reviewed this week, I expected to enjoy this one the least, and it ended up being the best by a mile. So for that reason, it’s definitely worth the read.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[xx] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Never neglect a storyline. I see this a lot, particularly in this kind of setup where two storylines are going on and one of those storylines carries the bulk of the plot. It’s easy to say, “Well, the 70s storyline isn’t really that important so let’s just make it adequate.” But it’s always better if there’s something interesting going on in the lesser storyline. Even in The Princess Bride, there’s conflict in the Fred Savage/Grandpa storyline because Fred Savage is pretending like he doesn’t care or want to hear the story. That back and forth eventually leads to them becoming closer, giving that storyline a legitimate beginning, middle, and end just like the story he tells has a beginning, middle and end. So I’m by no means saying there needs to be shootouts or excessive fighting in the 70s storyline here – but it would be nice if it wasn’t so benign.
Genre: Thriller
Premise: A newly engaged couple and a young girl go on a snorkeling trip only to realize that they’ve been kidnapped by sex traffickers.
About: This script finished on this year’s Blood List and has already secured Joe Russo to produce.
Writer: Tracee Beebe
Details: 112 pages
The nice thing about these Blood List scripts is that they’ve all got exciting plots. Plots that feel like movies. The writers still have to execute the idea in a dramatically compelling way, of course, but this past year has yielded too many scripts that feel self-important, where the writers feel that their message should take priority over their concept.
It’s fine if you have a point to make. Most good writers do. But the job of the writer is to find a vehicle that’s entertaining enough to keep the reader’s interest. Once you’ve got that sorted out, you can cleverly integrate your point of view. That’s why Get Out made Jordan Peele the hottest creator in Hollywood. Sure, he could’ve made “Harriet.” But he knows that the best way to spread a message is entertain audiences while you do it.
I have no idea what today’s script has in store other than it sounds fun. Let’s find out if it is.
25 year old Jenna just said ‘yes’ to her nerdy but adorkable boyfriend, Tyler. The two are at an unnamed Beach resort hanging with Tyler’s sister, single mom Mel, and Mel’s 10 year old daughter, Tori. Tori, in particular, is thrilled to be on the beach, as she’s a future marine biologist in the making.
Jenna and Tyler are slated to go on snorkeling trip the next day but overhear a large strapping Chris Hemsworth type talking about a secret snorkeling excursion with a local. When he invites them, how can they resist? The two introduce Mel to Jones, who’s so overcome by his hotness that she agrees to let Tori come with them.
The next day the four of them meet up with Skinny, the boat’s captain, and his 10 year old rugrat of a son, and off they go! Once they scoot out to the snorkeling site, everyone begins swimming with the sharks, including Tori, which is a little confusing but okay. However, not long after they start, Tyler goes missing. All hands on deck as they start motoring around looking for him.
Then something strange happens. Jenna and Tori realize that they’re heading further and further away from the snorkel point. It doesn’t take long for reality to set in. Tyler was purposefully left and Jones and Skinny are working together! And it appears that the girls are being kidnapped so that they can be trafficked.
The only weapons the two have at their disposal are that Jenna is a firecracker who won’t go down easy and Tori knows everything about the sea, including an expansive understanding of sharks (which definitely comes in handy). But will that be enough to save them against the chiseled rock of a villain known as Jones? We’ll see.
I have mixed feelings about Deep Water. I want to acknowledge that if this went up against a crop of Amateur Showdown scripts, it would probably win. But with only a few scripts making these prestige lists, I expected more from the execution. Let’s take a closer look.
My first issue with the script is the setup. It’s clunky. One of the first things we’re told once Jones marches past Jenna and Tyler is that Tyler “pulls her in close,” threatened by the alpha male dominance of the man. However, a couple of hours later, after Jones pitches his side snorkeling trip, Tyler is the first one to jump and has to beg Jenna to go. Character consistency is of huge importance in screenwriting. And that wasn’t consistent.
But what really raised my eyebrows was when Mel allowed her 10 year old daughter to go on a STRANGER’S boat and snorkel with sharks!!! I am not a parent myself but I’m guessing that puts you in the running for worst mother of the year.
I don’t want to pretend like Beebe is the only writer who does this because I see it in a lot of scripts. And it happens for a simple reason. When us writers want to push our story forward, we put on blinders. We have to get the girl on the boat because that’s how we envisioned the story when we first conceived it and when you have that kind of tunnel vision, you don’t think logically. You don’t ask yourself if a mother would really allow her 10 year old to go swimming with sharks on a random boat.
One of the reasons setups are so crucial is that if the reader doesn’t buy into them, they don’t buy into anything that happens after. For example, if on page 60, Tori is swimming away from a shark, the reader is still thinking, “She should never be in this position in the first place!” They’re thinking back to the setup instead of being in the moment.
To Beebe’s credit, she does some good things. One of the primary challenges of setting the story up is establishing the characters economically. Sure, if you had all the time in the world, you could carefully set up every character in their own starring scene, manipulating the environment and the conditions to best say “this is who this person is.” But this is screenwriting, which means you have to move the story forward quickly. That means writers who can set up multiple characters in a single scene stand out.
For example, in an early scene, Jenna and Mel are out near the pool. We’re setting Mel up as Tori’s mother as well as notifying Mel of Jones’s offer. As Jenna and Mel converse, Tori is nearby in the pool, intermittently dunking her head and trying to hold her breath for as long as possible. Every time she pops up she asks her mom how long she was under for. “45 minutes at least!” “Come on, Mom. The world record is only twenty-two minutes. I’m not that good! Time me for real.” Tori would also occasionally spout out facts about sharks and other marine life. The scene convincingly sets her up as someone knowledgeable and comfortable in water.
Beebe also makes some solid choices later on in the story. This felt to me like one of those concepts where, surely all the good guys were going to win. So when she offs Tyler early on, leaving Jenna and Tori on their own, I thought to myself, whoa, this just got interesting. You want to make things as difficult as possible on your heroes and we definitely get that here. So that was good.
There’s one final thing I want to point out here, however, and I want to get your opinion on it because it was kind of a revelation for me.
Before they head out on the ship, Jenna and Tyler have sex. Afterwards, they’re lying there, and we see cigarette burns on Jenna’s arm. Tyler leans in and says, “You’re not her,” then kisses each burn ‘tenderly.’ (I’m assuming “her” meant Jenna’s abusive mother)
Here’s the thing. A guy would never write this moment. He wouldn’t write that line. And it made me realize that when it comes to romance, we often write what WE OURSELVES would want the opposite sex character to say or do as opposed to what they would actually say or do. I’ve definitely been guilty of this. If I wrote a female love interest for my male character, I’d have her say and do all the things my ideal version of a woman would say and do.
What’s important to remember is that in writing, all that matter is THE TRUTH. Not what we want to happen. Not the idealized version of what would happen. But the truth. Because when you don’t write the truth, something feels off. Even if you’re a viewer who knows nothing about screenwriting or is even aware that movies are written, you come across that moment and something doesn’t feel right.
So when you’re writing a character action or line dialogue in these situations, ask yourself, “is this the truth? Or is it some idealized version of this moment that I want in my own life?” The truth should always win out.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Include geography lessons in situations where the geography is crucial to enjoying the story. There are lots of boats out there. They’re all different. To assume we know exactly what this one looks like would be a mistake. Especially since we’re going to be jumping around it so much. So Beebe wisely gives us a layout as soon as we board…
The old fishing boat is made up of four sections:
the prow, with a wooden platform perfect for sunbathing
the helm, accessible by a rickety ladder
the small cabin below the helm
a low bench along the stern
Genre: Crime/Mystery
Premise: A family must answer questions about the suspicious death of their patriarch, who supposedly committed suicide on the night of his 85th birthday.
About: Knives Out played at festivals a couple months back, where it won over critics, receiving a 96% Rotten Tomatoes score. After experiencing a complicated response to his last film, Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Johnson decided to shuttle back from that far away galaxy and shoot a passion project, a story he’d been working on for ten years. He put together a great cast, shot the film, which finally hits theaters tomorrow.
Writer: Rian Johnson
Details: 129 pages
I’m a big Chicago Bulls fan dating back to the MJ days. More recently, we had a great player on our team named Derek Rose. And while everyone in the city loved Rose, he would occasionally say things that made you go, “Huh?” Like when the team was fighting to win a playoff series and Rose chose to sit out due to a questionable injury. When he was asked about it, he replied, “I’m sitting out so I won’t be sore during future meetings and my son’s graduation.” Huh?
This began a series of memes titled, “Derek Rose Says Stuff,” which highlighted any time Rose would say something that didn’t make any sense. I bring this up because this meme could just as easily be applied to Rian Johnson. “Rian Johnson Says Stuff.” Like when he came out weeks before The Last Jedi and proclaimed he had “zero interest in exploring Snoke.” Huh? The giant Emperor like character who’d been set up in the first movie?
Or “When I thought about it, Luke tossing the lightsaber over his shoulder was the only thing he would do.” Um, what?? The ONLY thing? As in, that was the only option in existence? “Rian Johnson Says Stuff” has now officially extended into the marketing campaign for Knives Out, as he was recently asked about whodunits: “I wanted to take the onus off of the viewer very early on to say don’t worry about solving this. As much as I love whodunits, I feel like that’s one of the weakest elements of them.” A whodunit where the director demands you not care who dunit? Okay.
Look, it’s no secret I’m not a fan of Johnson’s writing. I thought Looper was a disaster script and openly weeped when the folks at Disney gave him Episode 8. However, I do like the whodunit genre and I also like the idea of updating it. There are a lot of differences in investigating a crime in 2019 compared to 1919 and if the author can come up with a clever way to integrate a modern sensibility into the genre, who knows? Maybe this script is good. Let’s take a look.
There’s been a murder in Suh-vannah! (points to anyone who can name the reference)
Or a suicide. It’s a little confusing since 85 year old Howard Thrumbey’s neck was slit when the family found him. Usually when you see a slit neck, you think murder. But everyone here, including the police, assume Howard slit his own neck. Don’t ask me why.
The entire Thrumbey family was at the house for Howard’s birthday the night before. So the police come in to ask a few questions about the death as a formality. The major players are Linda, Thrombey’s oldest daughter, Walt, Thombey’s youngest son who ran his father’s publishing business, Jacob, Walt’s alt-right internet troll son, Joni, a Gwyneth Paltrow wannabe, Greantnana, Howard’s mother, and Ransom, the black sheep of the family.
Detective Elliot, who will be asking the questions, is joined by the mysterious (and famous) Benoit Blanc, a private investigator who will reveal later that he received an envelope full of money and a message to dig deep into this death because not everything about this family is what it seems. The investigation also includes one non-family member, Marta, Howard’s caretaker, who was quite close with him.
The entire first half of this movie is interviews. We interview every member of the family, ask what they remember about the previous night, and it all seems to add up. However, after the interviews are over, we flash back to learn that Marta was giving Howard his nightly medication when she realized she’d accidentally given him an overdose! Howard, realizing he had minutes left to live, tells Marta not to worry, and gives her a series of tasks to follow, which include being seen leaving, then sneaking back into the house later. This way, she won’t be a suspect. This means that we already know who killed Howard halfway into the movie.
Back in the present, the lawyer arrives and reads the will (major spoiler). Marta will be receiving EVERYTHING. Naturally, the family freaks out and demands a recount or whatever you do in these situations. The only person who seems to be enjoying himself is Ransom, who loves watching his family squirm. He offers Marta a ride home where he informs her he knows what she did. Which is fine. He doesn’t care if she gets his father’s inheritance, as long as he gets his share. So the two agree to work together.
But Blanc keeps digging as he feels a devout loyalty to the random envelope of money he received, and soon gets Ransom to admit what he knows about Marta. Marta is brought back in, tells Blanc she’s more than happy to confess. But Blanc tells her, no, there’s no need to confess. Because it’s someone else who did it! He then lays out to everyone what really happened that night, implicating the real criminal who did it, who is the last person we suspect! (not really).
“Knives Out” is similar to a lot of Rian Johnson’s movies in that there’s some good in here, there’s some bad in here, and the stuff in between either appeals to you or doesn’t, shaping your overall rating. I will say this. Johnson takes chances in his writing and he takes a major one here, when he informs us that Marta is the one who killed Howard halfway into the script.
This achieves a couple of things that make it different from your garden variety murder-mystery. For one, we shift the focus from ‘who did it?’ to ‘how is this going to play out?’ Also, since we now know what Marta did, the drama is now operating on the principle of dramatic irony. We know something all the other characters don’t which means we can participate in hoping that Marta’s mistake isn’t revealed.
Johnson then cleverly skyrockets the stakes by announcing Marta will be receiving the entire inheritance. Before she was just covering up her mistake. Now she’s covering up her mistake to receive hundreds of millions of dollars.
Another thing this choice achieves is that it takes our focus off of who did it, which allows for the final twist to be more impactful. If you spend an entire movie asking, “Who did it? Who did it? Who did it? Who did it?” the audience is going to be really demanding of the answer. But if they’re no longer asking who did it cause you’ve already told them, it’s a huge surprise when you reveal that someone else did it all along. So that was a really clever move by Johnson.
The script has two weaknesses, though. The setup takes way too long. A full hour. I was literally falling asleep trying to get through the first 60 pages. It was interview after interview of the family. And while almost everything we learn through these interviews is paid off later on in the script, you can’t help but wonder if Johnson could’ve cut the interviews in half or found a more entertaining way to convey all this information.
I’m guessing Johnson knew he’d get a killer cast and figured we’d be so delighted watching these actors go at it, we wouldn’t mind endless exposition scenes. And maybe that was the case. I can’t say since I’ve only read the script. But my experience has been when you start trying to convince yourself you can outrun basic storytelling tenets through your direction, you get into trouble.
The second issue is that the crime is convoluted. There’s a lot that goes into it. Character A tells Character B to go be seen, then sneak back in, and then we’re going to slit our throat to throw them off the scent of being over-drugged and Character C knew Character B would use a certain syringe so he switched the syringes and oh, but wait, there’s a toxicology report that could prove he was drugged so Character C burns down the toxicology building but then he didn’t need to because actually the drug Character B administered ended up NOT being the wrong drug, which means that Character A was never in danger of dying so had he not slit his own throat, he would’ve still been alive… and that’s just a fraction of it.
There’s a lot more to keep track of. And while I got most of it, I didn’t get all of it. I still don’t know why Howard had Marta leave then sneak back in. That part was confusing. I’m sure your enjoyment of this movie will depend heavily on whether all this stuff is clear or you’re like me and some of it is murky.
I’m sure the guy who proclaimed Luke throwing his lightsaber over his shoulder was the only thing Luke could’ve done in that moment will tell you it’s not about solving the mystery. It’s about the larger themes of the 1% versus the have-nots. And to a certain degree, that comes through. One of my favorite moments is when Meg, a snobby Vassar student working on a useless college degree talks to Marta after she’s inherited everything. She’s trying to get her to rethink accepting the money, pointing out that without her cut, Meg won’t be able to pay for tuition next year. Marta earnestly tells her, “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll make sure you’re okay.” Meg’s realization that this woman who, ten minutes ago, was “the help,” is now in charge of her college tuition perfectly conveyed that theme.
But I can’t outrun the feeling that there’s a better ending in here somewhere. I thought maybe we’d get a Usual Suspects ending where Marta planned this from the jump. Or Howard was masterminding his family’s fall from the grave. Or maybe even Benoit did it. Instead (spoiler) the slimiest of all the characters ended up being the killer. It wasn’t that surprising.
I don’t know what to rate this. The first half is rough-going. Second half is good but not great. Had Johnson nailed the landing, maybe I give this a worth the read. But since the landing was on the clumsy side, I can’t recommend it.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[x] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[ ] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: I really like this trick I learned from Johnson of giving the audience the answer up front so that they stop asking the question. Since they’re not asking for the question anymore, you can totally surprise them later on with the answer.
Welcome to The Mandalorian Teleplay Chronicles. I will be reviewing every episode of The Mandalorian’s first season with an eye towards helping writers learn TV writing. Whether the show is a breakout hit or a Jar Jar Binks level bust, we’re going to be focusing on how to become better TV writers. Here’s a link to my review of the first episode here and also a link to the second episode.
Genre: TV Drama/Sci-fi
Premise: After the Mandalorian returns Baby Yoda for his bounty reward, he begins to have doubts about whether he’s done the right thing.
About: Chapter Three of The Mandalorian is written by Jon Favreau and directed by Deborah Chow, who is not only directing the seventh episode in the series but will be directing the ENTIRE Obi-Wan series, which initially seemed like a big task until Star Wars Net revealed yesterday that each episode will be only 7 minutes long. Oh stop it. I kid, I kid.
Writer: Jon Favreau
Details: 40 minutes (but without the lead-in or credits closer to 35 minutes)
Short episodes?
Good idea? Bad idea?
One of the most surprising things about The Mandalorian has been the episode length. And while, at first, everyone was angry with the choice, myself included, I’m starting to rethink my position. These last two episodes have been really good and I’m thinking that’s at least partly due to the fact that there’s no filler. Every scene moves the story forward.
I’m guessing that when they were putting these together and were asking the tough questions about how we make this feel like “Star Wars” but on a smaller budget, one of the ideas floated was, “What if we just made the episodes shorter?” Time is money in production. A minute of a Game of Thrones episode costs 200 grand. So if you can make your episode 40 minutes as opposed to 60 minutes you can save 4 million bucks! And you can move that saved money into other parts of the production.
So how did this episode compare to last week’s? I think I liked this episode even better. Baby Yoda may be the most inspired story choice ever – a screenplay cheat code. You can do some dumb a$$ stuff and we don’t notice because Baby Yoda just got out of his crib and started playing with a gear shifter.
But it’s not just that. There are some serious screenplay lessons to take from Baby Yoda. When you create a character, particularly a young character, who can’t fend for themselves, there’s a built in need for us to keep him safe. One of the reasons this episode never lags is because we’re so focused on if Baby Yoda is okay. We will not leave our seats or pause our televisions until we know that Baby Yoda is back in the Mandalorian’s care.
When you can create that kind of obsessive need between an audience and your characters, you’re got them in the palm of your hand. That’s what every writer who’s ever written wants. They want the audience in the palm of their hand. Why? BECAUSE IT’S SO HARD TO F*CKING DO. And Favreau figured out how to do it. And don’t discount this as some gimmick. In 8 movies dating back to the prequels Star Wars has tried to create a character this beloved and haven’t been able to do it. Baby Yoda is a revelation.
To give you a quick recap of the episode, the Mandalorian brings Baby Yoda back for his bounty and is paid handsomely. We can see some hesitation as he hands Baby Yoda over to the bad guy but after he uses the money to buy new armor, he’s feeling fly enough to forget about Baby Yoda. Or so we think.
He heads back to Greef Carga to get his next bounty where all the other bounty hunters are giving him the evil eye, as they were all after Baby Yoda too. After getting a new bounty chip, he heads back to his ship. However, right before he’s about to take off, something reminds him of Baby Yoda, so he turns the ship off and charges back into town.
He infiltrates Bad Guy’s hut, grabs Baby Yoda back, but as soon as he gets to the main street, those same bounty hunters who hate him are right there, making sure he’s not going anywhere. For the Mandalorian to get out of this, he’ll have to outwit upwards of 100 gun-happy aliens. With a baby in his hand! Can he do it? Or is he doomed and this is the end of the series?
Okay, since this Scriptshadow Series is about writing for television, let’s discuss what episode 3 of a season should be. Episode 1 was our “Introduce the world and main character and give us a great cliffhanger” episode, which is exactly what they did. Baby Yoda may be the greatest cliffhanger ever. Episode 2 is the “Proof of concept” episode where you give us an episode that shows us why your show is great. We get that with a fun “Jawas stole my ship” episode. With episode 3, you want to start opening up your world. The idea is that the audience comes into this episode thinking they understand the scope of your show but you show them that the scope is actually much deeper and more complex than they realized.
Why is this important? Because you want to create the thought of long-term commitment in the viewer’s head. Before they were just like, “This is fun! Baby Yoda!” You want them to start thinking beyond the next episode, into the full season, and, ultimately, into the whole series.
“The Mandalorian” accomplishes this by giving us more time in the mandalorians’ secret hideout underneath the town. We learn about something called the “Purge,” which killed a lot of Mandalorians after the fall of the Empire. They’re trying to build their people back up again. And the only way for them to do that is to stick together and honor the code. Going into this episode, I thought these Madalorians were bounty hunters who looked cool. But I left learning that there’s a lot more going on with their species and that they have a larger collective goal (to build their people back up).
Let’s move into plotting. When it comes to plotting your TV episodes, you should be using basic storytelling techniques. A character goal, stakes, urgency. That’ll do you good most of the time. However, you do need to mix things up sometimes so that the pacing of the show doesn’t get predictable.
For example, the “goal” of this episode doesn’t arrive until 40% of the way in, that goal being to get Baby Yoda and escape the planet with him. The first 2/5 of the episode, where the Mandalorian hands Baby Yoda over then heads off to his next job, doesn’t have a goal (well, he sort of has a goal, to get his next bounty, but it’s a false goal). So how does this section of the screenplay still work?
There’s a lesser known storytelling device which I’ve nicknamed “separation anxiety.” This is where you take two characters that the audience desperately want to see together and you cruelly split them apart with the threat that they might never see each other again. This is the device which I liked so much in the second half of the movie “Room,” with Brie Larson. She gets taken in for medical evaluation after they’ve escaped their captor, and that whole second half of the movie is driven by separation anxiety. We’re not going to be satisfied until her and her son are back together again.
The exact same thing is going on here. I want you to close your eyes and go back to the way you felt in the scene where the Mandalorian hands over Baby Yoda to the bad guy. I’m guessing it made you feel uncomfortable. I’m guessing you were thinking in your head, “No. NO. No. Don’t do it.” And once the Mandalorian left the exchange, I’m guessing all you were thinking about was, there’s no way he’s not going to go back and get him, and that the main reason you kept watching was for that. That’s an effective use of the separation anxiety technique.
It should be noted that this only works if you’ve done great character work with the two characters you’ve separated. That we not only like the characters individually but we like them together. Another key component to making separation anxiety work is selling that THEY’RE NOT GOING TO GET BACK TOGETHER. So you’ll notice that the Mandalorian makes it all the way back to his ship — even STARTS THE PRE-LAUNCH — before he changes his mind. We’re hopelessly thinking, “Is he really going to leave??”
It’s HERE where the story engine switches back to traditional GSU. His goal is now to get Baby Yoda and get off-planet. Stakes and urgency are also high.
But let’s get to the real juicy talking point of this episode. (spoilers) The deus ex Machina ending. All the mandalorians come and save Mando and Baby Yoda at the last second. This is the second deus ex Machina ending in the series so far. And there’s only been three episodes. Mando is about to be slaughtered by the Bullhorn creature when Baby Yoda force-saves him. And now the mandalorians show up and save him right as he’s about to be slaughtered by 100 bounty hunters.
Before you get upset, Star Wars has a long history with deus ex machinas. It’s got one of the originals, when Han Solo takes out Darth Vader just as he’s about to kill Luke so that Luke can blow up the Death Star. But not all deus ex machinas are created equal. And there are a few things you can do to make them work. When the deus ex machina is rooted in an emotional arc, it works. Luke didn’t just get saved by anyone. He got saved by someone who only cared about himself the whole movie, who arced into a character who finally cared about others. Our excitement that Han finally came around trumped the use of the deus ex machina.
Another thing you can do, which is what they did here, is create a half-and-half deus ex machina. This is where your hero does everything in his power to save himself first. So we see the Mandalorian jump in this droid cart and head down the street and keep shooting everyone and do everything in his power to survive. It’s only then that the deus ex machina arrives. We would’ve hated the deus ex machina had it occurred right at the beginning of his trouble when all the bad guys surrounded him. We need to see that our hero tries to solve his own problems first and we’ll be more forgiving is he’s saved after exhausting all those options. It’s never as good as your hero figuring things out on his own. But it’s certainly better than a straight deus ex machina where your hero doesn’t have to lift a finger.
I have to give Favreau credit. I didn’t think he was capable of this. But these last two episodes prove that this isn’t just trending to be a good show, it’s trending to be a great one. I can’t wait for the new episode next week. Nothing like a little Star Wars Black Friday combo. What’d you guys think?
[ ] What the hell did I just watch?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the stream
[x] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: Get some extra mileage out of your setup and payoff. Most people think of setups and payoffs as one-two punches. But you can actually get an extra moment out of them when the right opportunity presents himself. The setup and payoff everyone is talking about in this episode is when Baby Yoda starts playing with a ball joint from one of the levers on Mando’s ship as he’s landing at the beginning of the episode (setup). Then, when Mando has collected the bounty and is about to leave the planet, he goes to pull that same lever and sees that the ball is missing (payoff). It’s that hesitation that gets him to turn around and go back for Baby Yoda. It’s a wonderful moment. But wait! We get a SECONDARY PAYOFF when, at the end of the episode, when we’re back in the ship and Mando and Baby Yoda are leaving the planet, Mando unscrews the ball and hands it to an eager Baby Yoda to play with. It’s a heartfelt moment and a reminder that some payoffs have one more use in the tank.
