A few years ago a sketch group in LA asked me to write a piece for them.
Since I’ve always idolized sketch comedy (SNL, SCTV, Kids in the Hall, Mr Show) I was excited. I’ve never participated in improv nor told a ribald boner in front of an audience. But I love a good challenge and I’ve always had a fantasy of sitting in a writer’s room pitching ideas. That’s an odd fantasy considering most twelve year olds want to score a winning touchdown, not write jokes for Phil Hartman sketches. Anyway, I wrote a bit for this group in Hollywood which included a priest on trial and Lindsay Lohan. Again, this was years ago where both of those items were more timely. The troupe didn’t use the sketch, and that was that.
Smash-cut to a month ago when I’m walking back from the gym. My phone buzzed with a Twitter notification. Since I’m crazed from the workout, sweaty, and dodging oncoming traffic I decided to read it when I got back to the office. But I did notice the small avatar of the Twitter user. It looked just like the actress Anna Faris. Instead of stopping on the sidewalk to verify it was her, I chose to believe it was Anna Faris. I daydreamed of her asking me to punch up whatever script she’s working on.
Back at my desk I opened the tweet. Anna Faris had written a joke back to me about one of my tweets. Oh, and it wasn’t Anna Faris. But, interestingly enough, this lookalike was a sketch performer and writer for Second City. She linked to her YouTube channel and I checked out a few videos. I replied back and congratulated her on catfishing me and that I was onto her and that I knew that she wasn’t Anna Faris. Then she did that thing that you hope never happens when you go out on a limb to make a joke – she replied, “I look like Anna Faris?” Which is insane because it’s the ONLY person she looks exactly like. I had to explain why I was telling her to stop impersonating Anna Faris. I should have taken this as an omen that maybe our comedic sensibilities weren’t in alignment.
I told her I watched a few of her videos and thought she was funny. I also relayed the story of the sketch I wrote years ago that never got used and suggested that if she ever wanted to collaborate I was game. She replied back with, “Let’s do it!” We scheduled a call to brainstorm.
On the phone, I mentioned that my dog was a licensed therapy dog and how it’s pretty ridiculous because she’s an 7 lb Chihuahua and not exactly versed in the methodologies of Carl Jung. What someone actually does with a dog-therapy-license is visit hospitals and retirement homes to cheer up the infirmed. We started talking about a sketch where a person actually received therapy and guidance from a therapy dog.
She thought it would be funny to change the therapy-dog to a “block of wood” therapy object. That instead of having a therapy dog you just carried around a block of wood and talked to it and received guidance. I struggled to understand how this was an improvement. I even called her to get clear on the concept, because I figured maybe I was too stupid to understand her angle. After her explanation it still didn’t make sense to me, but whatever – this was her show and she’s the expert. Maybe it’s a visual thing. I didn’t push.
We agreed to collaborate via email to work on the script. She wanted to wing the dialog, which is fine for a skilled improv actor. But I had the lead role in the sketch, and I wanted to write up the beats so I could practice. I would be playing the announcer for an informercial selling therapy blocks of wood. Since I had to “sell” the item like a cheesy tv pitchman, I wanted to know the dialog in advance so I could hit the jokes correctly.
One thing was bothering me about the sketch, however. There was no set-up for why a block of wood was better than a dog. Since the joke is a goof on therapy dogs, it made sense to negate the idea of a therapy dog first, and then pitch the block of wood. Like they do in EVERY SINGLE INFOMERCIAL where someone is selling the bigger, better mousetrap. I’m sure the first Summer’s Eve commercial started with a line like, “Still letting your vagina clean itself naturally? What is it, your own personal janitor? Send your snizz on vacation and let Summer’s Eve do the heavy lifting!”
My setup idea went like this – Woman talking to her depressed friend Suzie asking what’s the matter. Suzie replies that she wants a therapy-dog to help her figure out and solve her depression. The friend reminds Suzie that she used to have a dog but never fed it and it died. Then the announcer (me) comes on and says, “Want a therapy dog but you’re way too irresponsible to care for one? Will no shelter in their right mind let you adopt? Don’t despair! You can get all the benefits of a therapy dog while never once picking up its crap!” Then I launch into the wood-object pitch.
The overarching idea is “therapy dogs for people who have no business owning a dog.”
I’m not saying this was a 10 idea. The whole sketch is probably a 6, at best. But without the setup explaining why a block of wood, it drops to a 2.
I wrote out setup dialog to Fake Anna Faris and sent it to her. I received an email back saying she didn’t like making Suzie a pathetic mess who once killed a dog. I explained that it’s necessary to explain why we’re pitching a block of wood, and that it’s absurd that someone would kill their dog by forgetting to feed it, which is funny. She sent back a definitive “NO” and I got the impression she was now annoyed with me. I backed off, and told her I’m on board for anything she wants. Again, it’s her show.
But, the truth is I was a little annoyed at this point. First, Fake Anna Farris lived way out in the suburbs (I’m in the city) and I need to travel to her for filming. It’s 45 min each way, which I’m willing to do, except now I have little faith that this is going to be funny. I’m also annoyed because she shit on my idea. And look, I think it’s okay to shit on my idea if you have a better idea. But she never offered anything in place of mine. And look, if she had millions (or even just thousands) of subscribers, I’d keep my mouth shut. She has a tiny following. Me tweeting out this sketch and blogging about it would send a ton of traffic her way.
I never relayed any of that directly to her nor voiced dissent. I just said, “Okay! No problem!” and figured it would make sense to let a day or two breathe before continuing the collaboration. Also, I knew if the sketch sucked I wouldn’t promote it anyway. We had already booked a day and a time to meet and film it, and I honor my commitments.
Days went by and no communication from Fake Anna Faris. It was now 48 hours before our scheduled shoot and I realized we had no script. Also, I’m starting to think that she doesn’t want to do the sketch since she’s gone radio silent. I sent an email confirming our day and time and also remind her I’m excited to work with her. No response. I’m grateful that when I was single I had this exact situation happen a number of times. Some broad would schedule a date a week in advance, then disappear when I called the day before to confirm.
And I never mind if it’s, “Hey, you’re an asshole and I don’t want to work with you.” This collaboration wasn’t smooth sailing from the start. However, to not call/email/text and cancel or even reply to my message isn’t super considerate. So, as I suspected, she must not have wanted to do it, as I never heard back. Which is odd since we had already put in three hours working on it. But some people disappear for whatever reason. Maybe the 14 pics of my genitals I texted over with the caption, “Not bad, right? RIGHT?!” didn’t do me any favors. Some chicks are uptight.
I hope this doesn’t come off like sour grapes. I’m not angry about it or towards her. But I was surprised I never heard back considering we put in time fleshing out the concept.
To be clear I didn’t send over photos of my genitals. I’m not a creep, and plus, Olan Mills was booked that day and couldn’t fit me in for a nude photo shoot.
Maybe I’ll write my own therapy-block-of-wood sketch. In my version there would be a follow up news story. A reporter comes on-screen and says there was a mixup at the wood factory and the company shipped blocks of wood that told patients to commit suicide. This would be great since a block of wood can’t talk. There would be scenes where a depressed person asks the wood for guidance and then puts their ear to the block and then says, “So, you’re saying to jump from the balcony? Okay, you’re the therapist!” Someone else would be in the garage with the door down and the car running. Different scenes of people offing themselves because the block of wood said to do so. That’s pretty close to a 10 in my book.
Man, now I’m all juiced up about this sketch! I’m going to do it. Anyone have Real Anna Faris’s pager?
photo credit: Anna Faris via photopin (license)