All in the Family

 
by Gary Fearon, Creative Director

Some years ago, I had the pleasure of speaking with Richard Kelly, who literally wrote the book on The Andy Griffith Show.  His highly entertaining and informative volume is not only a comprehensive episode guide, but a fascinating behind-the-scenes visit with the unforgettable cast and characters who populated Mayberry from 1960 to 1968.

In light of Andy's recent death, I thought you might appreciate this.  While discussing what made The Andy Griffith Show such an enduring classic, two things Mr Kelly had to say have always stuck with me, and I've seen their truth time and time again:

1. It wasn't about the jokes, but the personalities.
2. The personalities represented the family unit.

To explain:

1. Think of any scene in any episode of The Andy Griffith Show.  You'll be hard pressed to remember any punchlines.  There was plenty of humor, yes, and a spate of catch phrases like "Nip it" or "Gol-ly," but the laughs sprang from the characters and how they dealt with each situation in this situation comedy.

Anticipating how Barney would react to an embarrassing turn of events was often much funnier than any one-liner he might have uttered.  We got to know the personalities on the show through their believable, consistent behavior.  If it had been a town of stand-up comics, we'd have never bought into it, or felt like we knew these people. That is a failing of many of today's sitcoms, which are a series of setup and punchline, setup and punchline.  But back in Mayberry, we cared about Aunt Bee's feelings when the pickles which she thought were prize-winning actually tasted like kerosene.

2. A sense of family invites us in and makes us feel at home.  Andy, the patriarch, was complemented by Bee, the mother figure, and of course Opie rounded out the immediate family.  We also have characters who represent the the blowhard brother-in-law (Barney), the lovable uncle (Floyd), the busybody aunt (Clara), the unsophisticated cousin (take your pick, Gomer or Goober), etc.  Stereotypes to a large degree, perhaps, but consider other successful sitcoms and you'll see the same formula played out:

The Mary Tyler Moore Show, for instance.  Lou Grant was a strong father figure to Mary's career woman of the 70s (being the 70s, it was cool not to have kids, but if there was a child on the show, wide-eyed Georgette might fill the bill).  Ted Baxter was your blustering brother-in-law, and Murray was the uncle you could go to for a different view on things.

Again, most of the characters on this show had personalities we got to know, to the point where humor could come from merely expecting how they would react to situations. 

A good one-liner is fine for a quick laugh.  But for humor that reaches the heart and stays with us, a situation we can identify with and a personality we care about is the magic formula.  Andy had that magic, which is why we'll always have a fondness for Mayberry.

That's What Friends Are For

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director

Ever since the dawn of the sitcom, writers have recognized the value of  a second banana. (Actually, it goes all the way back to Greek comedies, but I don't have photos of Lysistrata and Calonise, so let's go with Ed Norton.)

Audiences love a good friendship, and writers love them even more because it paves a ready path for:

1) Exposition
2) Plot Progression
3) Conflict
4) Mentoring

In a comedy, it's especially important to have a partner in crime, a foil even, to share the hero's dilemma, or even make it worse. A hero with no one to talk to doesn't reveal much.

Where would Andy have been without Barney?  Lucy without Ethel?  Those two examples epitomize two very classic chemistries: 1) The sensible protagonist with the wacky friend, and 2) The wacky protagonist with the sensible friend (although Ethel usually could be roped into any hare-brained scheme).

Quite often the supporting cast is also a rich field for mining memorable and very useful characters. The quirky neighbor is a particularly popular archetype. Bewitched and Three's Company were richly enhanced by the nosey Gladys Kravitz and the befuddled Mr Roper. Anyone who watched Newhart eagerly anticipated the appearance of bumpkins Larry, Darryl and Darryl, a contrast to Bob's button-down personality.  Indeed, contrast is a major component in the supporting casts of everything from The Beverly Hillbillies to Big Bang Theory.

Looking again at the Mertzes and the Nortons, neighbors have always been a staple of story. In more recent memory, Seinfeld's Kramer opened the door to at least momentary mayhem whenever he came bursting in, just as Lenny and Squiggy did on Laverne & Shirley.

Not that all neighbors are nuts. Sometimes—as on Home Improvement—the guy next door is the voice of reason, even when the fence obscures his wise face.

Whether they are a harbinger of hassles for the hero, or just someone to reveal plot points to, a second banana or a supporting character with pizzazz has the potential to become a breakout personality  the audience comes to enjoy on a par with the hero himself.
 
We put a great deal of thought into our protagonist, making sure they have charisma and wit, are interesting and worth caring about.  Don't they deserve a good friend to hang out with?

Who are some of your favorite supporting characters?

Space Invaders

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director

Comedian, producer and author Jerry Seinfeld knows a few things about communication, and he's shared some interesting insights over the years. One of his more thought-provoking quotes once appeared in a Parade interview:

"You have to invade the space of the audience a little bit. I learned that early on. It was a very helpful thing to learn. You have to invade them just a little bit. Not too much, because then it’s obnoxious. But you can’t be short of them either, or you won’t control them."

Invading their space. What does that mean? To a standup comedian it can mean the difference between a standing ovation and getting heckled off the stage. A master performer knows one has to be bigger than life to take ownership of the room and keep all eyes on them. Singers and musicians are especially known for exaggeration and a flashy presence.

But when it's just you standing there talking to an audience—as in public speaking—mastery of volume is one critical skill to develop, as Jerry explains:

"The volume at which I’m speaking now is the right volume for where you’re sitting. I’m almost performing, in a way. There’s this kind of voice, and then there’s this kind of voice, and then there’s this kind of voice. I wasn’t a natural performer at all, so I learned. I was always a pretty good writer in the beginning, but I really had to learn how to perform."

Communicating through writing is a lot like doing standup. It's just you, the lone voice, trying to reach a vast audience whose faces you can't even see in the dark. You can only rely on their feedback to tell you if you've hit the mark. Jerry's voice of experience provides us with some food for thought:

•  Invade their space — Go beyond your comfort zone and into theirs, with ideas that challenge them and can't be ignored.
• "There's this kind of voice" — Determine the most effective "voice" to reach your audience. Not too soft and mushy, not too loud and preachy, but just a bit above the communication level they're used to.
• Listen for their feedback — Social media is today's equivalent of the old audience applause meter, which determined the winner on game shows. Blogging and other online promotion is how savvy authors build an interactive, loyal following.

They say standup comedy is one of the hardest professions in entertainment. I say writers are no slouch either. That's why Southern Writers is so intent on encouraging authors and helping them promote themselves, through our magazine, through this blog, and through the many online venues available to subscribers, like our new Must Read TV and Take Five.

Over the last year we've featured 178 exceptional wordsmiths in Southern Writers Magazine. In the coming year that will grow to over 300, and I hope you'll be one of them.

Begin by getting your free online copy of our July anniversary issue, and then become a member of the Southern Writers family. There's a standing ovation with your name on it!

An Author to Love

by Lucy Merrill

Who doesn’t love a love story? Even guys who demand car chases and explosions in their reading and cinematic excursions like a bit of romantic byplay in the mix. Love has explosive possibilities of its own, amply displayed in works from Anna Karenina to Fatal Attraction.

There’s a lot of comedy potential in the perilous course of true love, too, and most lovers of love stories enjoy a good laugh as much as a good cry. If you do, let me introduce you to one of my favorite authors, the great humor writer, P.G. Wodehouse.

Wodehouse, known as “Plum” to friends and family, published a mountain of novels, short stories, plays, and even song lyrics. While he wrote from the early days of the 20^th century to his death in the 1970s, his characters live in a world stuck in time, where it is always 1912, or maybe 1925. It’s so hard to tell.

Whenever they are set, Wodehouse plots are rarely lacking in romance. In fact, love makes the Wodehouse world go round, as his characters are constantly pursuing—or occasionally on the run from—tender entanglements.

Plum’s best-known character, Bertie Wooster, who had a complete life support system in his valet, Jeeves, was always finding himself engaged to one ghastly girl or another through no fault of his own. Getting unengaged to the one who read Nietzsche or the one with a laugh like a sergeant-major provided plenty of plot pitfalls.

Then there’s Bingo Little, who was, as Wodehouse puts it, “susceptible.” Poor Bingo fell in love with the merest flutter of a mascara’d eyelash. This landed him in all sorts of sticky situations, from getting sideways with bookies to giving revolutionary speeches under the cover of a fake mustache.

To describe a Wodehouse plot as stark and realistic would be trifling with the truth. They are wonderfully absurd. But the author’s wry and witty style provides real laughter and imbues the whole with good humor. His writing twinkles.

There’s a danger in throwing in a few examples about now. How to pick one or two? I’ll inevitably overlook a favorite. (This sort of narrator hand-wringing goes on a lot in Wodehouse stories.)

How about this description? “It is never difficult to distinguish between a Scotsman with a grievance and a ray of sunshine.” Or this: “It was a harsh, rasping voice, in its timbre not unlike a sawmill.” Or this: “Like so many substantial citizens of America, he had married young and kept on marrying, springing from blonde to blonde like the chamois of the Alps leaping from crag to crag.”

Or perhaps this bit of plot exposition: “It was a confusion of ideas between him and one of the lions he was hunting in Kenya that had caused A. B. Spottsworth to make the obituary column. He thought the lion was dead, and the lion thought it wasn't.”

My Valentine’s Day recommendation—this year, have a little Plum with your champagne and chocolates.

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While an office drone by day, after 5 p.m. you'll find Lucy Merrill, freelance writer, blogger, and aspiring novelist, knee-deep in the writing life. Lucy lives in Birmingham, Ala., with a tolerant husband, who rolls his eyes at her only occasionally. She welcomes friends and followers on Facebook, Twitter, and LinkedIn.