HEARTSTOPPER BUILDS IN A TEASER

One last post about HEARTSTOPPER before I leap into the final seven eps of OZARK. (I'm done with three. In a word? Wendy GOT TO GO.)

It's just a tiny thing that I found fascinating. The show, you may recall, has seven main characters. Six of them have actual stories. The seventh--Isaac--sits around reading books and giggling. And that's about it.  I think he might have seven lines in the season.

Now I haven't read the comics, so I don't know where that character is going. But I do know, if I were writing that show, there would absolutely be an episode in season two, maybe the opening of the pilot, that is basically retelling the season from the point of view of Isaac. And we'd find out what the hell he's reading and he would get a great big story of his own. 

When we would write pilots in grad school, one of our profs would often warn us, you cannot do everything in the pilot. As a new writer you definitely want to show and do everything, both to sell the show and to demonstrate your talent. But that generally makes for a terrible pilot, like opening a trunk you overstuffed with things and then BOING it's shooting out all over the place.

I find the same goes for a season. You just won't get through everything. But here Alice Oseman turns that bug into a feature. She gives us this mysterious character who is around, and clearly has a lot going on--What is that kid reading?? And why does he suddenly disappear sometimes?--but never explores it. His presence is like a built-in teaser for season two. It reassures us that there's so much more world to be explored here. 

Lots of shows offer characters like this, though sometimes they're more hidden in plain sight than Isaac; they're situated as the friend or someone else in the office, part of "the team."

If you're working on a pilot right now, maybe step back and ask yourself, Who is my Built In Teaser? Which character do I have who is supporting the action in season one in some way, but gives us a whole new set of fun experiences to play with down the road?

HEARTSTOPPER SHOWS HOW TO MAKE TEXTING THRILLING

When I was in grad school, one of my profs warned us to beware writing scenes that involve texting. "They are the worst," would be a polite paraphrase. Basically it's worse than talking heads; there's not even the rough and tumble of dialogue. It's just watching people stare at their phones. If you want that just look around. 

Now as it turns out there is actual drama to the experience of texting. Mostly it looks like this: 

You've texted something. Ideally (because this is a script, after all), that is to say, you've taken some kind of risk. And the endless dots are the moment of truth, where you see whether it pays off or your life is SO OVER.

HEARTSTOPPER adds a great wrinkle. I would go so far as to say it is a must see for anyone who wants to figure out how to make texting really dramatic. 

And it works by finding just as much drama in what each character themselves decide to text as in the waiting for response. 

Probably the most streamlined version happens in episode 107. Charlie has come to this belief that he is bad for everyone. (Being gay is so awesome, you guys.) And he's trying to figure out how to talk to Nick. 

And so what we watch is him laying in bed composing texts, then deleting them and composing another. And it creates a kind of process of revelation and stake-raising, each new text giving us new information as to where Charlie is at that seems worse and worse. Which means, each new text has us that much more invested in what's going to happen next, even though it's just him by himself testing things out.

It's a 4 step sequence: "i need to talk to you", which establishes a baseline for us as to what's up. But it also gets our attention. "i need to talk to you": This is serious.  

Then he erases it and goes with "i'm so sorry, it's my fault you got into that fight", which tells us what he wants to talk about and how he's feeling. We don't know exactly where it's going, but it's definitely worrisome. 

Then it's the big one: "are you sure you want us to be together". Fuhhhhhhk. No, Charlie, no. The text peels back more of where Charlie's head is, and takes our concern to a much higher level.

Finally he comes back around to where he started: "Can we have lunch tomorrow?" and that's what he sends. It's actually a more gentle version of the first text -- this isn't about need, it's "do you have time for?" But with the context of the prior texts the significance of that request is now so much different. It sets up their next encounter as a potential break up. 

Episode 102 has a much more involved version, with both Charlie and Nick trying to think through texts to each other. But once again we get this technique of texting things and then deleting them being used as a way of revealing what a character is thinking and struggling with and also building suspense or tension. The fact that Nick is not even yet at a point where he's able to face his own sexuality adds another whole layer of tension--in a sense he's not only struggling with what to say to Charlie but what to see in himself.

In a sense the lesson is that there really is a way to do just about anything, no matter how boring or lifeless it might seem. The question to ask is, What's the most dramatic way of doing this activity? 

And watch HEARTSTOPPER. It's really good. 

HEARTSTOPPER ADDS A LITTLE SPARKLE

HEARTSTOPPER is a wonderful new show on Netflix about two high school boys falling in love. It's funny--it's a story we've seen quite a few times before, including with queer kids. And yet it still feels very fresh and compelling.  

Obviously that's got everything to do with the the writing and performances, which are fantastic. But early in the first episode the show also introduces a small technique that I think has a huge impact. When Charlie first sees Nick, two little animated leaves blow past him on the screen. Then he sits down, says hello, Nick responds--and two more leaves blow past the two of them. Then a bunch more circle the smitten Charlie. 

It's a simple way of expressing the magic in this moment. But it sends a message, too: this isn't going to be your standard "two kids fall in love" sitcom; there's going to be more wonder to it than that and also more innocence and sweetness. This isn't going to be rat-a-tat-tat repartee and irony; we're in hearts on sleeves territory.

I've watched the first four episodes at this point, and Alice Oseman, who wrote the series (and also the graphic novel on which it is based), has used the technique very sparingly, which makes it that much more effective. There's a great moment in 102 where Nick is sitting next to a sleeping Charlie and on impulse reaches out to take his hand, and then these cartoon sparks begin to emerge. Once again it expresses exactly what that moment feels like, but in a magical, awe-filled way. 

I think it's also effective as a technique because it's so small, just a little zhuzh here and there when people are feeling something special. You could miss it if you look away at the wrong moment. That is to say, it's precious--which once again captures the feeling the show is trying to convey.

Obviously, adding cartoon special effects is not something every series can do. But as you think about a script you've finished, it might be worth asking the question, Is there something that can make my story--which 99 times out of a 100 is a story that has been told a hundred times before--visually distinctive? Is there any small element I could add to help draw out its themes, tone or feelings?

Check out HEARTSTOPPER on Netflix. It's really so good.