Genre: Drama/Supernatural
Premise: (from IMDB) June and Oscar live a comfortable but very predictable wedded life when suddenly they find themselves in a completely unexpected situation, raising questions about love and marriage.
About: Alan Yang, creator of Master of None, got this gig when Fred Armisen and Maya Rudolph, who have been wanting to work together forever but couldn’t find the right project, decided to have a “reverse casting” whereby they brought writers in to pitch them on a show they’d be in. Yang and Matt Hubburd were the winners with this simplistic yet trippy idea about marriage that has quickly become one of the most buzzed-about shows of the year. The only reason it isn’t a bigger deal is because it’s on Amazon Prime and nobody knows how the hell to get on Amazon Prime.
Writer: Matt Hubbard and Alan Yang
Details: 8 half-hour episodes
Before I get into my review of Forever, I want to discuss two movies that bombed this weekend: This Is Us 2 and Assassination Nation. I kid I kid. Life Itself and Assassination Nation. Both films made a COMBINED 3 million dollars despite being shown in a combined 3000 theaters.
So what’s the lesson here? Movies must fit inside a marketing campaign that the average moviegoer understands. For example, when you market a bunch of people getting together to rob a bank, the average moviegoer understands that that’s a heist, and therefore, if they like heist films, they will likely enjoy themselves. But when you look at the trailer for Life Itself, where is the marketing familiarity? It’s just characters talking to each other and crying. You can see that on television but you don’t see it on film anymore. That’s confusing to the average moviegoer. I want to be clear about this – If you write a script that cannot fit inside a pre-established marketing campaign, nobody’s going to want to see it.
That’s not to say you can’t write a movie like this for a streaming service. But it’s not going to work on the big screen.
Assassination Nation is a tougher nut to crack but, in the end, suffers for the same reason. I can see how producers could talk themselves into this movie working. It’s the #MeToo movement. It’s female empowerment. It’s a bunch of women kicking ass. They were probably thinking people would see the movie because the advertising would celebrate these messages. But here’s the problem. Nobody who saw this poster understood what the movie was about. I don’t understand this marketing campaign because I haven’t seen this type of marketing campaign before. So why would I risk $20 on a film that I don’t understand? Why would anybody?
Ironically, if the movie had a single woman holding a gun instead of four women, it would fit into one of the most successful marketing campaigns we have at the moment. That’s what I want you guys to remember. If your script doesn’t fit into a marketing campaign that you’ve seen before, it’s going to have a tough time finding an audience.
Which leads us to Forever, a show that 10 years ago, someone would’ve tried to write as a feature. These days, because it doesn’t fit into any known marketing paradigm, it makes a lot more sense to explore as a streaming show. Now we all know how I feel about experimental storytelling. One of the common criticisms of me is that I don’t understand anything unless it abides by the rules. That’s not true. What I don’t understand is anything that tries to pass sloppy off as visionary. Let’s hope Forever doesn’t fall into that trap.
By the way, this show is one giant spoiler. If you want to enjoy the show in all its glory, I recommend watching it first then coming back to this review.
June and Oscar are a couple of semi-loners who were weird enough that they had trouble finding mates early on in life. Therefore, when they meet each other, it’s not clear whether they’ve really found “the one” or they’re just happy to have found “someone.” Either way, they’re much happier together than they were alone, and that’s all that matters.
There are a couple of sticking points in June and Oscar’s marriage. The first is that Oscar likes routine. He likes eating the same dinner every night. He likes going to the same lake house every year. He’s a creature of habit. June enjoys doing these things because Oscar enjoys them. But after awhile, she gets sick of them. And therein lies their issue. Neither June or Oscar ever tells the other how they feel. This results in resentment, particularly on June’s end.
June tries to remedy this by suggesting something different this year: SKIING. Oscar doesn’t like the idea because it’s new, but eventually gives in. After the two hobble around the slopes for awhile, Oscar loses control and crashes into a tree, dying. That’s the end of the first episode. The second episode is about June grieving the loss of Oscar. And after a long year, she finally gets a big promotion at work, which includes a trip to Hawaii. As they prep for takeoff, June opens a package of nuts and ends up choking on them. She dies. That’s the end of episode 2.
In episode 3, June wakes up in the afterlife, which is basically a more pleasant version of suburbia. Oscar is thrilled that she’s arrived and informs her that now they get to stay here forever. June isn’t so sure she likes that idea. By the end of the week, Oscar is back to his old routine, and June can’t help but think, “Is this it?” For the first time, she starts to challenge Oscar on his boring existence, and their perfectly pleasant relationship is thrown into upheaval. When June finally leaves him, Oscar will have to decide if this new June is really worth fighting for.
Let me start by giving everyone some good news.
I remember reading Alan Yang’s first script. It was a Black List Script called Gay Dude about a guy who learned that his friend was gay. The script was SO AVERAGE. It was the definition of average. Like mind-blowingly average. Average enough where I’m surprised he made the Black List with it. However, fast forward to 2018, and Alan Yang has had two of the buzziest shows on television.
This should serve as a reminder that screenwriting is a process. You can get better. You don’t have to win it out of the gate. Do your best, and even if it’s average, that’s a start. If you can improve at the rate Yang has (or faster since you have Scriptshadow on your side), you could be writing great TV shows in five years.
One of the reasons Yang has broken out like he has is that he understands the new TV landscape better than most. He knows that this is a new medium, and with it comes a new set of rules. You have to try things that you haven’t tried before if you want to stand out.
I’ll give you an example. The hook of this show doesn’t arrive until Episode 3. Oscar dies at the end of episode 1. June dies at the end of episode 2. And the afterlife doesn’t start until episode 3. Now the 55 year old screenwriter who used to write on CSI doesn’t understand this. To him, you would’ve needed to get to the afterlife by page 15 in your pilot. By the end of the first episode at the latest. But it’s a new dawn and a new day. You gotta start thinking outside the box.
Once we get to the afterlife, Yang and Hubbard start using more traditional screenwriting approaches. Whenever you have a unique hook, you have to EXPLOIT THAT HOOK. If you’re not looking for plot threads that could ONLY HAPPEN in YOUR UNIQUE SHOW, you’re not doing your job.
In Forever there’s this teenager character, Mark. He died in high school in a car crash and therefore is forever stuck in a teenager’s body. He’s begrudgingly friends with Oscar and in one of the episodes, they see what looks like two teenagers and their mom up ahead. Mark freaks out. “Uhh, let’s go back home.” “Why?” Oscar asks, before realizing that Mark likes one of the girls. After an argument, Mark agrees to go talk to the girls. “So which one do you like?” Oscar asks. “That one,” he points. “Oh,” Oscar says, seeing the cute girl he’s pointing to. “Redheads, nice.” “No, not her. Her.” And he points to the overweight 60 year old mother.
It turns out that that mother went to high school with Mark, and she was “the coolest girl in school.” She just ended up dying 45 years later than Mark. So Mark goes and talks to her and a major subplot of that episode is the two going on a date. That’s good writing, people. You find plotlines that could only happen in your concept. You do that and you’re guaranteed originality.
The show is also a constant stream of unexpected choices. This is something I barely see as a reader. All writers are making the same choices as everyone else. I’m always 30 pages ahead of the script. And the funny thing is, all it takes to break this pattern is to be conscious of it. When you decide on an idea, ask yourself if you’ve seen it before. If you have, challenge yourself to come up with something else.
Take June’s death. As episode 2 draws to a conclusion, and June is heading to her plane to fly to Hawaii, we get the sense that her death is coming. It’s pretty obvious. Naturally, what are we expecting her death to be? Her plane’s going to crash, right? I was 99% sure that was the choice that was coming. Instead, the stewardess hands June a bag of macadamia nuts, and June excitedly downs one, only to choke on it. Never expected that in a million years.
Forever is a great show until it hits its final two episodes. What Yang and Hubbard are so good at – finding drama and entertainment in the most mundane conversations – is jettisoned in favor of a clunky plot where June treks to another town and Oscar chases her. It’s the only blemish on an otherwise perfect show, and should serve as a lesson to screenwriters everywhere. Don’t go away from the stuff that defines your show. The same thing happened with Seinfeld. They tried to force a plot onto the finale on a show that was anti-plot. But even with that mistake, the characters were so great in this, I still left the show impressed.
[ ] What the hell did I just read?
[ ] wasn’t for me
[ ] worth the read
[x] impressive
[ ] genius
What I learned: With television, you need to identify a core problem at the heart of your main relationship which you will then explore, both directly or through subtext, every time the characters are together. Here, it’s that June and Oscar never talk about their problems with one another. This means that each has a long list of built-up frustrations that are simmering underneath the surface every time they chat.
