You know you’ve watched too many drama or mystery programs on television when you utter the dialogue before the actors on the screen do.
I don’t know what they pay scriptwriters in Los Angeles and New York, but it can’t be much.
Comedy writers? They’re a bit different. Many of them show us talent in their powers of observation and fresh dialogue, sometimes. Their stuff is compromised though with ugly laugh tracks that tend to ruin true comedic dialogue.
Reality shows are the worst since they require next to nothing in terms of script preparation. They are the string bikinis of the wordy people.
I must admit my foibles here. I often watch Survivor, but honestly, I don’t think I can take much more of Jeff Probst yelling, “Come on in guys,” although it’s obvious there are some girls involved. He doesn’t seem to worry about gender equality.
“Do you wanna know what you’re playing for?” is the other classic line we hear weekly from Probst. Just once, I wish the contestants would flee the beach, yelling “no not really Jeff, not that interested. Catch us tomorrow.”
But they don’t, they’re always excited about playtime.
And of course, he gets to mouth the immortal words, “I’ll go tally the votes.”
The rest of the time, he’s screaming play-by-plays of what we’re seeing, as if we can’t follow the action. For this, he is paid millions and has been for two decades. It’s kind of sad. It’s also kinda sad when I find ownself watching this drivel.
What other magnificent lines do we hear on television’s action and mystery shows?
“Cover me, I’m going in.”
Or, if the script writer needs to spice it up a bit, it will be, “I’m going in, cover me.”
That means, good guys fire lots of bullets at bad guys while the hero dodges bullets fired by bad guys, who have to shoot in haste because the good guys are “covering him.” It’s in the script.
If the action or tension gets too brisk, you can predict the sidekick will always ask, “should I call for backup?”
The main guy always says no, because then he wouldn’t be getting the top salary since he’d have to share screen time with someone else. Backup is hardly ever called. They just show up 48 minutes into the one-hour production, counting commercials.
“ I don’t think it’s haunted.”
Another predictable line uttered. Again, you know backup will not be called.
“Let’s roll.”
Again, self explanatory. That’s what we get in 22-minute action episodes.
“I know he did it, but we can’t prove it.”
This is the key line, usually spouted by the hero’s sidekick or female lead.
“I don’t have them, I thought you had them.”
Another classic line. Sometimes it is re-written as, “I don’t have it, I thought you had it.” “Them” or “it” is something fairly important to advance the plot. The plot moves along when it is discovered who has “it.”
“Ya, I can access that account. Where’s the computer…?”
Again, self explanatory, a necessary line to advance the plot for any story that involves cyber activity of any kind, which means every program on television.
“There’s something I have to tell you. I’ve been keeping it a secret.”
Ya, OK, just keep it to yourself. I’m reading a book by a real author.
Whoever said television was the great wasteland, was correct, when it comes to writing scripts.
