Scripts that get noticed and help writers find representation often explore some aspect of human experience in a strikingly fresh and real way, while meeting the requirements of an established genre in terms of entertainment value. Hulu’s comedy series Ramy (whose star and co-creator Ramy Youssef won the 2020 Golden Globe for best actor in a musical or comedy its first season) is a great example of this.
Its title character is a young single first generation Egyptian-American living in New Jersey who struggles to become a more devout Muslim after having grown up in and internalized an American culture that can seem very contrary to those values — in terms of pre-marital sex, drinking and drugs, and loyalty to family values and traditions.
While it’s a comedy, it tries to explore this struggle in a sincere, believable and specific way. Which is key for most writers with most projects. Whatever the subject, premise and genre, the more it can feel like we’re delivering real human behavior, real people, in real situations to audiences, the better. Not just inspired by real life but vividly well-observed character aspects and situations that ring strikingly and interestingly true.
Of course it’s easier to do that when writing about a world one grew up in and knows very well, like in Ramy, but I have to say it’s one of the most common issues I see in scripts from the writers I work with (and some of those I write): they might be competently executed in a lot of ways, but does it all feel real? This is where most scripts fall short, and where successful ones tend to stand out: they resonate with authenticity.
At the same time, it’s great when a project feels fresh in what it’s delivering to audiences — such as this portrait of a world and situation that most don’t know and haven’t lived, but which has compelling conflicts and universally relatable human desires, emotions and relationships that are easy to identify with. Ramy succeeds at this in multiple ways, in that American series rarely focus on Muslim characters, let alone in a comedy, or on characters who overtly believe in God and are trying to practice a traditional religion. Then you add the focus on a single guy in today’s America struggling with balancing all of it, and you have a potent cocktail of fresh elements.
By being “fresh and real,” Ramy gets a high grade for me in two of the seven elements of a viable story or series idea that I focus on in my book The Idea. The book uses an acronym of the word PROBLEM (since all stories are about one), with each element starting with a different letter in that word. “Fresh” is another way of saying it’s “Original,” and “Real” stands in for “Believable.” (The “O” and “B” of PROBLEM.)
The show also does well with the other five elements. The stories are very Punishing for Ramy and the other characters. What they’re desiring and going through is universally Relatable. They’re grappling with challenges that have Life-Altering stakes of a level consistent with a comedy series. They’re extemely Entertaining with shockingly funny situations coming from a disinct and unique perspective. And the entire enterprise is pretty Meaningful in the issues it explores about immigrants, religion, family, America, etc.
But what if you’re not someone whose own personal life experience, if put in a series, would somehow deliver on what Ramy does, and have such resonance in our current world — such freshness, such interest?
Most of us aren’t, and maybe have never lived in a situation that could easily be fodder for a series or movie that millions would respond to, connect with and be entertained by — while contributing something fresh to the cultural landscape.
Or have we?
In my post about PEN15, my other favorite new Hulu series (both of which are returning for a second season this year), I noted how its co-creators took their own experience of seventh grade, which was not necessarily so unusual or fresh in and of itself, and created a show that also feels original and believable in the kinds of ways I’m talking about here. They decided to take an R-rated approach to the life of outcast girls in seventh grade, and to play their young selves on camera while surrounded by actual kids in the other roles. Both of these were “fresh” decisions, but I think what really makes the show work is the quality of the writing, in terms of the unique realness of the situations they explore, and how they make it all wildly funny while also touchingly relatable.
It’s possible you’ve been in a situation, or know enough about one, that could be fresh enough, at least in your approach to it. But I think the key in whatever you write about is that you’re able to mine from it the most punishing and entertaining elements, and, perhaps most importantly, deliver it with an authentic realness that makes readers think “this must be this person’s true life story.” Even if it isn’t.
One last point. This applies even to genres like sci-fi fantasy and thrillers. You’re allowed one big fantastical concept element at the outset of any project, that defines the world, the genre and the problems for characters, in a possibly larger-than-life way. But beyond that, what audiences most respond to are real people behaving in real ways, drawn relatably, specifically and authentically. If you can give them that, and also explore something meaningful on a thematic level that elevates it beyond the surface plot and entertainment elements, then you’ll really be in business.
Ditto Micahel F Duff
Dear Abby,
You mention the fantastical element in the last paragraph. What’s the fantastical element in Ramy? In Barry, I’d say it’s that he’s an assassin?
This fantastical element idea resonated with me as I begin to write my semi-autobiographical 1/2 hour comedy pilot.
I struggle with the idea that the funny stories from my life are worthy of a ‘grounded’ series that doesn’t need some sort of fantasy conceit.
Do I give myself permission to write it as a straight comedy-drama a la Ramy? Or do I wrap it in a fantastical element?
Or do I understand you, that it doesn’t have to be literally fantastic, like maybe my protagonist doesn’t have to be a wizard or shapeshifter or even an assassin, but that there should be a person and/or world we haven’t seen before or which is being shown in a new way? ie ‘larger than life’
For example, in Master of None, Dev is a struggling actor in New York City–been there–but he’s a first-generation Indian and a millennial–haven’t done that.
Or in Shameless, Frank Gallagher loves his family–been there–but he’s an alcoholic welfare queen–that’s new.
I don’t want to write a straight slice of life-type comedy but I also don’t want to situate my protagonist as a waiter in a restaurant on the moon. Or do I?
Signed,
Clearly Overthinking It
I wasn’t saying RAMY has a fantastical element and even Barry as an assassin isn’t totally fantastical. I was saying if you’re writing Sci-Fi Fantasy these points about it feeling “real” still apply.
I don’t think all projects need a fantasy conceit but ideally they have some sort of concept that is fresh and explores something compelling that hasn’t quite been done before. That’s a high bar and not easy to achieve. RAMY’s life happens to do that because of what it consists of, whereas for others of us, like the creators of PEN15, one might have to work harder to find something within real life that can feel like a fresh concept that’s really engaging even before you get to the (hopefully fantastic and very “real”) writing.
So yes I’m saying it doesn’t have to be literally fantastical, but “haven’t seen before or being shown in a new way” is really helpful. And I agree with you about MASTER OF NONE that Dev’s background (not unlike RAMY’s) helps with that.
Please email me at erik@flyingwrestler.com if you want to discuss further! And thanks for the questions! 🙂
Isn’t creating authentic and “real” characters a function of time and the process of development as well? Just as your first draft is only a rough depiction of your final work, it takes refinement along with a solid structure and ongoing thought/deliberation to create your final work. Dr. Frankenstein or Thomas Edison.
Too many writers lack the patience nor put in the hours and hours of effort to CRAFT a story that evolves into something authentic. You rarely get it right the first (or second or third) time.
Creativity, inspiration, masterpieces are forged over time and energy. They don’t just fall from the sky. We often spend too much time talking about the magic bullets of writing. Just reload and keep firing the gun (with exceptional ammo and weaponry).
Absolutely! I couldn’t agree more! Great point and thanks for making it Jim!
Really good. Thank you Eric.
Thanks for your work here Erik. What makes all this so befuddling is the subjective nature of what meet the ‘criteria.’ You and I may collaborate on a brilliant script, believing all the boxes have been checked, but ultimately someone else need so to concur. Like fishing on a bad day – no bites – what gives? Is it my bait, technique, place in the hole, or time of day that is not working.
I agree with all you are working toward but the target is elusive as hell. Again, thanks for all you inspire and your effort.
I don’t disagree that it can be elusive and subjective, and making sure one “checks all the boxes” can still not lead to the desired results. And I don’t think RAMY originated as an attempt to check the boxes. It just happens to do so because of its subject matter and approach. After that, it’s about execution in the writing, how much it actually floats or sinks. I think it’s good to know what the criteria seem to be but then hold them loosely and kind of still surrender to inspiration in the actual day-to-day process. Like I talk about here: https://www.flyingwrestler.com/2020/03/the-ideal-writing-session/
I understand what Adam is saying. You are an inspiration and helping us to know the criteria must be incredibly frustrating for someone who knows it so well. I know when I wrote and produced a one woman show, the director said the work wasn’t on the page. As I performed the show people were moved to both laughter and tears. Where did that come from? Words or humans ? I think what you talk about in your session piece pairs with the artist in me. The practice will keep me in the zone and the knowledge gained from the practice will contribute to the art. Watching Terrence Malik means nothing to many – but his art is potent nonetheless. What can you tell us about work that is not on the page? I spend quite a bit of time reading Shakespeare aloud with different people of different levels of practice. It is fascinating how words on a page work with the human spirit even if they don’t completely understand what they are reading. The translation from page to screen or stage in the hands of a second artist is another element my mind wants to wrap around in my wrestling matches ? . As always, thank you for the dialogue-
That’s an interesting question about what’s between the “words on the page” and the final product that reaches an audience. In screenwriting we are always only creating a blueprint for others to bring to life. And also the experience of all creative expression is subjective. So any principles of screenwriting have to take those two factors into account. One can only do the best one can on the writing side, and then those other two elements come into play… But as writers, words on the page are what we’re all about. We can’t control or be responsible for anything else. So we do our best with our part of it and then hand it off…
Excellent. Thank you.