by Neil Landau
Web Therapy: a low-budget, single-camera premium cable (Showtime) comedy that originated as a web series sponsored by Lexus. There are very minimal sets as the camera is primarily “fixed” with the limited POV of a web camera through which psychotherapist Fiona Wallice (Lisa Kudrow) dispenses advice to her online clients. Web Therapy is a groundbreaking comedy series offering a unique mode of storytelling based on a new business model. Each episode often features a big name guest star (Meryl Streep, Lily Tomlin, Conan O’Brien, David Schwimmer, Minnie Driver, and Julia Louis-Dreyfus have all made appearances). While Web Therapy is an unusual series with its own format, you’ll note in my interview with creator/showrunners Don Roos and Dan Bucatinsky1 (Kudrow is also a co-creator and co-writer; Roos also directs each episode) that this series adheres to the basic “rules” of the sitcom game.
The following is a very basic primer for aspiring sitcom writers and creators. For a more intensive crash course, there are some excellent books2 solely devoted to the art and craftof situation comedies. But even more valuable is your total immersion into classic sitcoms from the past and present. In addition to the above esteemed sitcoms, some of my all-time favorites (in no particular order) are All in the Family, M*A*S*H, Maude, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Taxi, Seinfeld, Cheers, Rhoda, Barney Miller, The Office (U.K. and U.S.), I Love Lucy, Roseanne, Murphy Brown, Everybody Loves Raymond, Family Ties, Soap, The Bob Newhart Show, The Days and Nights of Molly Dodd, and Get Smart.
Basic Sitcom Formats
There are two types of sitcoms: multiple-camera format and single-camera format.
Multiple-camera started with shows like I Love Lucy and continue today with Two and a Half Men, 2 Broke Girls, and Big Bang Theory.
Single-camera shows are shot and formatted like films. Examples: Modern Family, Parks and Recreation, Curb Your Enthusiasm, and Veep
Some shows have teasers and tags, some have two acts (multiple-camera format) and some have three acts (some, but not all, single-camera shows). If you’re planning to write a sample script for one of your favorite sitcoms, find an actual script from that show via one of the script websites and copy their format. Don’t try to reinvent the wheel or break the mold. A spec episode needs to match the standards of the show. If you are writing a sitcom pilot, study various types of sitcoms and decide which is the best style and format for yours. There isn’t one way to do it. Do your research!
Multiple-Camera Sitcoms
FADE IN: ALL CAPS and underlined
SCENE X: “numbered” using CAPS and underlined.
SLUGLINES: location in ALL CAPS; DAY or NIGHT, and underlined.
(CHARACTER LIST): should appear directly below the slug line and indicate which characters are needed for the scene. Also enclosed in parentheses.
ACTIONS/DESCRIPTIONS: in ALL CAPS
CHARACTER INTRO: ALL CAPS and underlined
SOUND EFFECTS/SPECIAL EFFECTS: ALL CAPS and underlined
CHARACTER NAMES: ALL CAPS before dialogue
DIALOGUE: sentence case and DOUBLE-SPACED
(PARENTHETICALS): to clarify how dialogue is to be said, such as (SARCASTIC)—appears within dialogue—on the same line—in ALL CAPS and enclosed in parentheses.
The script is divided into acts and each new act begins on a new page.
As for time breakdown, the following applies to multi-camera sitcoms:
Teaser: 1–2 pages
Act One: 17–20 pages
Act Two: 17–20 pages
Tag: 1–3 pages
Total: 40–48 pages in length
Single-Camera Sitcoms:
Formatted like screenplays and similar to the one-hour drama.
Dramedies, such as Girls, Weeds, and Nurse Jackie, also use this format.
May or may not have formal act breaks written on the page (this depends on whether or not the show has commercial breaks). Premium cable series (on HBO and Showtime, etc.) have no commercial breaks.
Dialogue and stage direction are single-spaced.
The characters are described in ALL CAPS the first time they are introduced.
Scripts average at least thirty pages in length.
Basic Sitcom Structures
Multiple-Camera Sitcoms
The plots for these types of shows tend to be broad and simple. The show may have a major plot line (A story) and a minor plot line (B story), and may or may not have a runner.
Each act tends to be between three to five scenes. A single camera sitcom can jump around much more, with shorter fragmented scenes that get cut together in post-production to make a coherent, thematic whole. A multi-camera sitcom is usually shot in front of a live audience, in chronological order, more like a stage play. A single-camera comedy is like a little feature film every week.
The locations in a multi-camera sitcom are more basic and constant. According to 2 Broke Girls showrunner Michael Patrick King, who’s worked on both multi-camera and single-camera series, multi-camera sitcoms are harder because of the limitations of locations. On 2 Broke Girls, they always need to figure out character entrances and exits within scenes, whereas on a single-camera series, like his Sex and the City, you could just CUT TO: the next scene.
On 2 Broke Girls, Michael Patrick King and his writing staff map out the full season (twenty-four episodes) arcs at the beginning of the preproduction cycle. “We dream up three basic plotlines for the season: broke stories, girl stories, and diner stories,” King said. Then they break down those larger arcs into individual episodes that are assigned to individual members of the writing staff (unless it’s a writing team duo). And there’s a lot of story packed into what will be a twenty-one-minute episode “with a top, middle, and underneath [which I interpret to mean theme and subtext],” says King.
The writers’ room at 2 Broke Girls is utilized to figure out larger story arcs for the characters, but King prefers for the actual script writing to be done by each writer outside of the writers’ room to honor the individual voices of each talented writer.
Single-Camera Sitcoms
Single-camera sitcoms generally have more freedom to visit multiple locations, with a couple of regular sets. There are fewer locations and longer scenes on a multi-camera sitcom, necessitating more jokes on every page of the script. In a multi-camera sitcom, the live audience is expecting a joke or something shocking to come out of the mouths of your characters with virtually every line of dialogue—silence on a multi-camera sitcom is just dead air, whereas silence on a single-camera sitcom could make us cringe—but in a good way. On a single-camera sitcom, the audience has a different expectation and the rhythms of the comedy are more nuanced, with less emphasis placed on “jokes” and more reliance on visual gags and intercutting between scenes.
On Parks and Recreation, showrunners Mike Schur and Dan Goor break stories as a group, but then each writer peels off to go write their individual episode. Schur (an alum from The Office writing staff) feels that group writing an entire episode doesn’t make the best use of each writer on staff. “After a while, it becomes the law of diminished returns,” Schur said.
Showrunner Mindy Kaling from The Mindy Project (and also an alum from The Office writing staff) feels that having the first drafts of each episode crafted by individual writers (outside the collective writers’ room) makes for a “wonderful patchwork of voices.” Kaling runs her writing room in a similar fashion to the way her former boss, showrunner Greg Daniels, ran The Office. They use good old-fashioned index cards and a white board. At the beginning of their pre-production cycle, they’ll pitch three to four episode ideas at a time to the network for approval, and then assign each script to a member (or two) of the writing staff. After the first draftgets turned in by the writer(s), “then the script becomes [the] communal property of the whole room.”
Parks and Recreation also works according to this model. The first draftof the script will be dissected and new lines of dialogue and jokes will be pitched—these new lines are referred to as “alts” in the writers’ room. Acco
rding to Schur, they’ll throw everything in at once, so that the teleplay will often balloon to fifty to sixty pages with alts, and then they’ll cull the draftdown to the requisite thirty pages.
Greg Daniels also did this and coined the phrase “the candy bag” for all the discarded jokes and bits that would then be saved for possible inclusion in future episodes. Michael Patrick King calls his version of the candy bag “the whipped cream.” At the same time though, you don’t want to save the juiciest plot lines, funniest lines and situations for later because, as Mike Schur points out: “Loyal audience members are a precious commodity. You need to make every episode strong or risk losing people.” Or as Greg Daniels would tell his writing staff: “Pack the sausage [the episode]; put it all in.”
Basic Formula Overview
Most broadcast network sitcoms adhere to a basic formula and utilize the same narrative storytelling models as feature films and one-hour dramas— so you can readily apply the first twenty chapters of this book to your sitcom pilot.
As for basic sitcom formulas, here’s a quick overview:
Set up the ordinary world: show the main characters in a bit of their daily routine, and then disrupt this relative normalcy with a problem (which provides the initial catalyst to the main plotline known as the A story). The A story is a problem that the central character of this episode has to overcome. It’s typically called the “cold open” or “tease” and is followed by the opening credits. The stakes of this problem don’t need to be super high on the life and death scale, but they should feel vitally important to the character. I’ve heard this referred to in the sitcom biz as a “tremendous trifle.”
Act 1 in a sitcom begins after the opening credits. Now the character is looking for a solution to the problem. In the early stages of the act, the problems for the B and C stories also arise for the supporting characters. And then your main protagonist must decide on a game plan in order to deal with the problem.
Link A, B, and C stories by a unifying common theme (there is often a moral at the end of the story).
Midpoint plot reversal with escalating stakes: in a feature, this occurs in the middle of act two. In a two-act sitcom, this occurs at the end of act 1; in three-act structure, at the end of act 2. This is when the bigger problem comes up that takes the action into a sudden and unexpected direction. The goal may change. A new goal may be added, but your character is now on the horns of a major dilemma. Basically, in trying to fix the smaller problem, a bigger problem was (inadvertently) created. The best metaphor I’ve heard for this is that in act one your protagonist is being chased by a vicious dog and forced to climb a tree to escape, and then in subsequent act(s), bystanders throw rocks up at your protagonist in the tree.
When the show comes back from the mid-point break, the central character works to solve the bigger problem, but things go awry, and they will reach a point where it looks like they will never be able to succeed. That’s the low point of the story where failure seems imminent. In a sitcom, this low point/all is (seemingly) lost moment comes near the end of the second half of the story.
By the end of the second (or third) act your character(s) overcome(s) the problem—usually through honest communication and/or making amends. In movies, the climax = the truth. I think this rule applies in sitcoms, too. After the climax, there’s usually a commercial break.
After the break, there is sometimes a very short “tag” to resolve any lingering conflicts. No matter how unruly the problem was, the viewers want to see that the main characters are safe and content in their ordinary world. There’s usually one last laugh, and then the credits.
But, please note that with the prevalence of You Tube video shorts, web-sites like Funny or Die, sketch comedy shows like Portlandia,3 and innovative comedy series such as It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Community, Louie, Veep, and Girls, the reliance on the tried-and-true sitcom formulas are becoming less essential for some viewers. Outrageous characters and envelopepushing, surreal situations are becoming more accepted and desirable to this niche, but rapidly expanding audience.
Having given you all these rules, the truth is that if it’s funny every week, you can toss all the rules out and laugh yourself all the way to the bank.
Interview: Christopher Lloyd
Christopher Lloyd Credits
Best known for:
Modern Family (Executive Producer and Writer) 2009–2012
Emmy Award Winner (Outstanding Comedy Series) 2010–2012
Emmy Award Winner (Outstanding Writing for a Comedy Series) 2010
WGA Award Winner (Comedy Series) 2011–2012
WGA Award Winner (Episodic Comedy) 2010
WGA Award Winner (New Series) 2010
WGA Nominated (Comedy Series) 2010
Back to You (Executive Producer and Writer) 2007–2008
Frasier (Executive Producer, Co-Executive Producer, and Writer) 1993–2004
Emmy Award Winner (Outstanding Comedy Series) 1994–1998
Emmy Award Winner (Outstanding Individual Achievement in Writing for a Comedy Series) 1996
Emmy Nominated (Outstanding Writing for a Comedy Series) 2000, 2004
Emmy Nominated (Outstanding Comedy Series) 1999–2000
WGA Nominated (Episodic Comedy) 2001
Wings (Supervising Producer, Producer, and Writer) 1991–1993
The Golden Girls (Writer) 1986–1989
NL: I’m very interested in how you constructed the show from the beginning, particularly the use of voice-over and intercutting from family to family with the documentary style built into the more traditional structure of the sitcom. Once you decided you wanted to tell these stories about the new untraditional family, when did you decide and/or how did you decide that you wanted to have this direct address to the camera—documentary style?
CL: It was early on. We wanted to do a family show, but as you say, how are we going to do a family show that’s different from the thousands that have been on television already? The first thing we thought was, “Okay, we haven’t seen the documentary version of the family show—that will make it different, that will give the audience a way in that you may not have had in previous family shows. The direct address to the audience and the interviews give it a little bit more of a voyeuristic feel. It feels a little bit more captured than say in a traditional sitcom where you’re laying it all right out there in front of the audience. It was an early decision, but even so, the question was, “If that’s the way in, who is this one family we’re looking at? How are we going to pick one family that’s going to encapsulate the American family today?” So then we thought, maybe we’ll do three different families and hope to catch the essence of the American family by triangulating one traditional family with two less traditional families. Then, we thought, “Well, that seems a little bit disparate. If we’re just going to be looking at one family for two minutes here and then another and another, it’s going to feel like we’re telling three shows all in one.” We tried to find a clever way to unite them, so that we felt like we really had a series, which led us to having them all be related which was the surprise revealed at the end of the pilot. We’re telling a story about one extended family, but within it very different forms of the American family, which was a little bit different, and we also happened to use a different stylistic technique—documentary style. All of that added together made us feel like it was a different way to do a family sitcom. We can be somewhat traditional in the storytelling and in the jokes, but there’s enough that is different that will intrigue people.
NL: Do you map out season arcs in advance? In other words, do you have an overall plan of where you want to take these characters each season?
CL: We have a loose plan. We’ve never mapped out anything close to a whole season at the beginning. If we’re lucky, we map out half of them. That’s our goal in pre-production. If we can have twelve of our twenty-four stories figured out in some detail before we start shooting them, then we feel like we’re in good shape.
We maybe had eleven this year. We don’t do tight story arcs because there’s not a particular romance that we’re following or any of those stories that lend themselves to a serialized approach. But, for example, Gloria [Sofia Vergara] is pregnant. We know that she’s going to give birth right around episode 11 or 12, so if we’re going to do a baby shower episode or her family comes to see her before the birth, we know that we have to pop those in around episodes 3, 6, and 9 and be ready to have her give birth at episode 12. When we had Claire [Julie Bowen] involved in running for city council, we had to think about the big moments and where we wanted them to fall. Do we want the election to happen somewhere around episode 20? Then, let’s have a debate prep episode right around 15. These are far from fully figured out stories, but it just gives us points to aim toward that we’ll have to hit when we get to them.
NL: Will your characters ever change? I always felt that it was the Golden Rule of Sitcoms that characters don’t change, but their situations do. Or am I wrong about that?
CL: There are aspects of the characters that audiences love and don’t want to see change. That is on our show and many other shows. There are dynamics that work for us. You want to be rooting to see Phil [Ty Burrell] finally gain Jay’s [Ed O’Neill] acceptance. You want to see a loosening of the tension between Claire and Gloria. At the same time, those conflicts are sources of a lot of humor for us, so we don’t want to have them go away all together, but you can’t have the same story week in and week out. We want to see some movement. It’s a difficulty in doing a long-running series. You want to be showing some progress, but you also don’t want to completely undo the thing that made people fall in love with your show in the first place. In terms of personal growth, sure we would like to see Claire, for example, be a little bit less uptight and find some outlet for her creativity. We’ve explored that from time to time by having her go out and get drunk with the gay guys and winding up with the straight guy that she took to be gay and letting her hair down a bit. We’ve seen her at a shooting range. These are things that you probably wouldn’t have expected from Claire early on. Same with Phil. We’ve established him as this goofy dad, but there are many moments where we’ve seen a very sensitive side to him. Same with Jay. We have Jay this year, for example, letting us know that he’s going to a psychiatrist. I don’t think that’s stuff that you would have anticipated from the Jay of season 1. It’s a matter of expanding the characters, giving new dimensions to them, that you may find interesting, but don’t stand in too much contrast to what we know of the character’s traits. So that you don’t say, “This just doesn’t make sense. How could he be both A and B?” It’s a challenge.
