We all have them. Trunk scripts. The screenplays that with age and perspective turned out to be more of a learning experience than that record-setting spec sale. It happens. It has to happen. That’s how we learn to write — by writing.
Also in the trunk — those TV specs for shows that will always be on and never undergo major plot/character changes: Seinfeld, X-Files, Lost, The Office…you get the idea. There’s a lot of room in that trunk. Room for all your bad middle-school poetry from the time you only wore black and didn’t wash your hair but once a month. Also, your first attempt at writing a novel, scribbled in longhand in a dozen sequentially numbered composition notebooks.
This could be a huge mistake, but I’m thinking — it might be fun to poke around and see if there’s anything in the trunk worth sharing. So I present here the very first installment of Scenes from the Trunk.
The inaugural script? A half-hour TV spec of Nickelodeon’s “The Naked Brothers Band“.
Please let me explain.
I recently discovered, after a year of developing, writing, and polishing the the best screenplay I may ever write, the one I was destined to write, that another script very similar in concept sold, attached a director, and became the talk of the town, making various favorites lists and all that.
All I could do was watch as my screenwriting career burst into flames on the runway.
I’m still reeling from the fallout, but this experience has reminded of the last time I went into a tailspin[1]. A writer who was younger than me and prettier than me suddenly grabbed a lot of attention when he landed an assignment to adapt a property I had always hoped to adapt myself. It was my dream assignment.
The assignment became the talk of the town, making various favorites lists, etc., etc.
I was happy for this writer. I was also consumed with envy. I wasn’t happy about feeling that way. Being envious, especially when I was so aware of it, made me feel like a very small, petty person. Probably because I was.
It turns out the best thing for envy is what is usually the best thing for any writing-related ailment you might suffer:
Write.
I needed a distraction. Nickelodeon’s Writing Fellowship deadline was coming up in a few weeks. Writing a half-hour spec would be quick and fun compared to my usual long-haul feature screenplays. I sat down to watch all the children’s shows on Nick and Disney.
Soon I wanted to stab my eyes out with a magic princess fairy wand.
When did everything become so…slick? So hip? So full of sarcasm and attitude? So fake? My memories of Nick were of “You Can’t Do That on Television” and “The Adventures of Pete & Pete“. I had turned into an old man, waving my fuzzy slipper threateningly at each new TV show I had to endure.
Disney was especially repugnant. Everyone on Disney was sickeningly chipper and apparently their acting school taught EVERYONE TO SHOUT THEIR LINES. NOW YOU ARE ACTING! Zach and Cody shot Pete & Pete in the back and left their corpses to rot in the sun. There is also a disturbing preponderance of “you are special” messages. You are secretly a rock star. You are secretly a wizard. If only the world could know the real you, they would understand.
There was a lone bright spot on Nick at the time — “The Naked Brothers Band”. NBB could descend into silliness at times, but it had a heart missing from other shows. The show revolved around two young brothers who were part of a famous rock band that was Beatles-level popular. It was a concept that made me roll my eyes but it was used to good effect in the series because it became a source of constant conflict for the characters rather than just empty wish-fulfillment for the audience. Add to this set-up surprisingly some natural, heartfelt performances by the young leads, genuine song-writing talent, and moments that go much deeper than you would expect a kid show to go, and it’s really a shame the show didn’t last past three seasons. So that was my ticket.
[The script pages below will make more sense if you have a passing familiarity with the show...which is unlikely. Watching a few minutes of a sample episode at nick.com should help.]
Disclaimer: I’m not a big believer in writing-as-therapy but at the time I don’t think I could have avoided it. I fired up Final Draft and wrote “The Worst Songwriter in the World”, an NBB spec about the band’s lead singer/songwriter Nat, who finds out that his all-time favorite TV show, SPY CATS, is being remade and his rival, Cory Cougar, has been asked to write new theme music for it.
Not surprisingly, Nat goes into a creative and emotional tailspin.
INT. KITCHEN – THE NEXT MORNING
Nat, in his SPY CATS T-shirt and boxers, lies on the kitchen floor. Next to him is an empty gallon jug of chocolate milk.
Alex stumbles over the jug as he walks into the kitchen.
ALEX
(shouts to Jesse, off-screen)
Found him!
Alex picks up the jug.
ALEX (CONT’D)
Did you drink a whole jug of chocolate milk by yourself?
NAT
No. I drank two jugs.
We see now Nat has ANOTHER JUG in his hand, nearly empty. He takes a big swallow. Alex snatches it away.
ALEX
You’re lactose intolerant!
NAT
I’m intolerant of a lot of things. Like people who take my dream gig away from me.
ALEX
What dream gig?
NAT
Spy Cats. That’s been my favorite show since forever. They should’ve asked me to write the theme song.
ALEX
Why didn’t they?
NAT
Because I’m the worst songwriter in the world!
Nat grabs the milk jug away from Alex and tries to suck down the last swallow. They tussle over the jug.
ALEX
No you’re not!
NAT
Yes I am!
ALEX
Stop that, you’re not!
Alex wrenches the jug away from Nat.
NAT
What are you doing?
ALEX
Saving you from yourself!
In a noble act of sacrifice, Alex imbibes the last of the chocolate milk himself.
ALEX (CONT’D)
That was mostly backwash.
Alex sits on the floor with his brother, puts a comforting arm on his shoulder.
ALEX (CONT’D)
You’re not the worst songwriter in the world.
NAT
Then why didn’t I get Spy Cats?
ALEX
You’re destined for something greater.
NAT
How do you know?
ALEX
That’s what it says on your underwear.
It’s true. His boxer shorts are emblazoned with the phrase.
NAT
It’s the Spy Cats motto.
Jesse appears holding a pink bakery box.
JESSE
There you are. Nat, these are for you.
Nat opens the box. It’s filled with freshly baked cookies.
NAT
Chocolate chip? (TAKES A BITE) Hmmm! Thanks, Jesse.
JESSE
Cory Cougar sent them over. He baked them himself.
NAT
(despairing)
They totally rock.
Not only is Cory Cougar apparently a better songwriter, he can bake too. One obsession naturally leads to another, and now Nat feels he must compete with Cougar on every level. Including baking.
Cooper enters and looks quizzically at the dozens of cookies surrounding the band.
COOPER
Hey guys. Can I have a cookie?
Suddenly realizing he has a fresh victim, Nat springs to life.
NAT
Yes. Yes!
Cooper picks up a tray and is about to take a cookie when Nat WHACKS the tray out of his hands. The tray and cookies fly into the air.
NAT (CONT’D)
But not those. I’ll make you a new batch.
He dashes to the kitchen.
COOPER
(re: the cookies all around)
What’s wrong with these?
DAVID
They’re aren’t as good as Cougar’s cookies.
QAASIM
He thinks.
COOPER
You have Cougar cookies?
He spots the pink box on the kitchen counter and reaches for it -- but Nat smashes his fist down on top of the box.
NAT
Don’t even think about it.
Cooper gets a good look at Nat now -- the crazy glint in his eye, the flour-covered hair and clothes...
COOPER
Nat, have you been baking all day?
NAT
He can’t be best at everything, Coop.
Nat is supposed to be writing a new song for a charity event, but his obsession is blocking him…not that I would know anything about that. As Coop knows, sometimes the only way out is through. He visits Nat the following day with something to help.
Cooper arrives, takes a glace at the blank music sheets.
COOPER
You need more than the bridge, don’t you?
NAT
Sorry, Cooper. I --
COOPER
Never mind that. I’ve got the answer.
Cooper pulls out his iPod and hands it to Nat.
COOPER (CONT’D)
It’s all queued up.
NAT
What is?
COOPER
The new theme song for Spy Cats by Cory Cougar.
NAT
Why are you giving me this? You think I want to hear this?
COOPER
Of course you do. Go on. Get it out of your system.
ROSALINA
Nat, don’t. Cooper, where did you get this?
COOPER
I have my connections.
ROSALINA
Don’t torture Nat with this.
COOPER
Just take a listen, Nat. Then you’ll know if it’s good or bad or whatever. Then you won’t have to obsess about it any more.
NAT
I’m not obsessing -- am I?
ROSALINA
Nat, don’t do this to yourself. Just forget about Cougar and the stupid Spy Cats song. It doesn’t have anything to do with you or the song you’re supposed to be writing for charity.
COOPER
Go on. Take your medicine.
Rosalina stops Nat from putting the ear buds in his ears.
ROSALINA
If you’re going to listen to that, I’m leaving.
NAT
I’m sorry, Rosalina. I have to know.
Nat sticks the earbuds in his ears. Rosalina, wounded, leaves.
COOPER
I’ll leave you alone.
Nat looks down, stares intently at the PLAY button.
He steels himself.
His thumb hovers over the button.
I think it’s probably the case that the competition is always stronger, better, faster, or in some other superior in your head than it is in real life. We creative types live and die by our imaginations but it is a double-edged sword, for imagined enemies are impossible to defeat.
Sometimes a dose of reality sets things back into perspective. As it turned out for Nat, he did listen to the new theme song…and it was just a piece of music. Not bad, not great. And certainly nothing to get in such a twist over. Nat meets up with Cougar again backstage at a TV show.
NAT
Hey, Cory, wanna hear something funny? When I heard you were writing the theme for the new Spy Cats, I -- I, uh --
Nat wants to confess, to clear his conscience and to get past this once and for all, but he can’t quite get there.
NAT (CONT’D)
I thought it was -- great. I was. Really happy. For you.
COUGAR
Thanks, man. Hey, you want some pie? I baked some pies --
Cougar turns to a table piled ridiculously high with boxes. He opens one reveling a luscious banana cream pie.
NAT
That’s okay --
COUGAR
Go on, take it.
Nat takes the pie out of the box. A prize-winning pie if ever Nat saw one.
NAT
How do you do it Cory?
COUGAR
Start with fresh ingredients --
SPLAT!
Nat shoves the pie right into Cory’s face.
Sometimes, people don’t change. They don’t learn their lesson. They don’t transform. A beam of light does not break through the clouds and is not accompanied by the voices of angels and does not swell a character’s heart with love and learning. Sometimes people try but can’t quite get out of their own way.
Kids deserve to know that it isn’t easy to change and that learning and growing takes time and effort. Not all of life’s problems will be solved in 23 minutes plus time for commercials. It’s also good to know that you aren’t the only one that has problems. Nat drops by Cougar’s hotel room for one more try at coming clean and making peace with his own feelings of envy.
Cougar leads Nat over to a TV and DVR, hits play --
The NEW SPY CATS title sequence plays for all of five seconds.
NAT
What happened?
COUGAR
They totally butchered my theme song. They only used five seconds and they added some kind of hip-hop beat to it --
CONNOR (O.S.)
THOSE AREN’T MY DRUMS!
Cory plops down on the couch, despairing.
COUGAR
It’s funny you’re jealous of me because right now I feel like the worst songwriter in the world.
NAT
I guess everyone does sometimes. But you know what? You’re destined for something greater.
COUGAR
You really think so?
NAT
My underwear does not lie.
We hear the first few bars of a SONG as we --
CUT TO:
EXT. SMALL URBAN GARDEN – THAT NIGHT
A banner proclaims: WELCOME TO THE GARDEN RENEWAL FUND-RAISER!
Nat sits behind a grand piano in the middle of the garden, surrounded by VIPs holding checkbooks.
Nat rocks the house with his freshly written charity song, accompanied by Cory Cougar on guitar.
They finish the song to much APPLAUSE.
NAT
Thank you. Thanks everyone. The bakery stand will stay open the rest of the night, so if you haven’t gotten your pie or cookies yet, you still have a chance. I recommend you check out Cory’s awesome cheesecake.
THE BAKERY STAND
is staffed by Connor and Alex, who are selling baked goods like there’s no tomorrow.
AT THE PIANO
Nat and Cory shake hands on a job well done.
NAT (CONT’D)
Thanks for the assist, man.
COUGAR
Thanks for not hitting me in the face with a pie tonight.
Cory takes off his guitar and heads for the bakery stand.
Rosalina pulls up a seat next to Nat. She takes a big bite of cheesecake from her plate.
ROSALINA
You’re right about the cheesecake.
NAT
They said we set a new fund-raising record tonight.
Rosalina looks around, gathers everything in.
ROSALINA
Congratulations, Nat. You did it. You’re the best songwriter in the whole world.
NAT
I don’t have to be the best. I just have to be my best. The rest of the world can take it or leave it. I can live with that.
Oh, man, that dialogue makes me cringe. There’s a reason this script lives in the trunk. The truth, of course, is that I had Nat say what I needed to hear at the time.
Like Nat, I’m still learning to be my own awesome self and to just let everything else go. Like most of my characters I may never get there.
- I am NOT a drama queen! I’m not! I’m not! I’m not! [↩]