Sitcom sample - King of the Road

So I wrote a single-camera sitcom, when all around are looking for studiobound stuff.

The gist: Barry Gifford is a driving instructor brought out of retirement to teach his nephew to drive. The main relationship is between Barry and Tom, but we meet other instructors along the way (hence the Sophia insert).

Barry is mental. And a bit horrible. Maybe too horrible, I dunno.

This is from halfway through the first part (it was written with a commercial channel in mind, hence the "end of part one"). Apologies for the length.

EXT. DVLA TEST CENTRE CAR PARK - DAY
There are four cars in the car park. One is pink and full of cuddly toys and nodding dogs, bearing the sign "Miss Sophia’s Simply Scrumptious School of Driving". One is all black, with black tinted windows carrying the sign "Van Cleef: Pale Driver". One is burgundy with tartan seat covers and bears the sign "Mr. Mortimer’s Driving School. I Will Teach You How To Drive."

And one is white with a DORSAL FIN on its roof.

Also in the car park is TOM, late teens, quite studious-looking, wearing glasses. He surveys the vehicles.

TOM
Please God it’s the black one.

Enter Barry Gifford.

BARRY
Tim?

TOM
It’s Tom.

BARRY
Yeah. Look at you, you’ve grown.

TOM
Yeah, well.

BARRY
You’ve grown an extra pair of eyes, anyway, eh? Four eyes.

TOM
Um, yeah, Uncle Barry?

BARRY
Please, just call me Barry. Or Mr. Gifford. Or Sensei.

TOM
So which is your car? It’s not the black one, is it?

BARRY
Or Yoda. Yeah, the L-plate Yoda, that’s me.

He tosses Tom the car keys.

BARRY (cont’d)
Here you go, hotshot, the keys to the beast.

TOM
The beast?

BARRY
(indicating the white car)
Orca! Isn’t she a beauty? Carcaradon carcharias.

TOM
What?

BARRY
It’s Latin. Big-us f**king fish-us. Great White. In you get.

Tom gets in the car, as does Barry.

INT. BARRY’S CAR - CONTINUOUS

The men start putting their seatbelts on.

BARRY
Welcome to my humble abode. Strap yourself in, sunshine. Let’s motor.

INT. BARRY’S CAR - LATER

They are driving through a built-up area.

BARRY
So, did you bring your twenty-five quid?

TOM
Twenty-five? Mum said it was twenty.

BARRY
Nah, I’m sure I told her on the phone it was twenty-five.

TOM
But I only have twenty on me. Family discount?

CUT TO:
EXT. A CASH POINT - DAY

Tom inputs his PIN while Barry waits in the parked car.
Barry pips the horn and shouts from his window.

BARRY
Timmy! Get another twenty out and buy me a hundred Lambert and Butler there’s a good lad. I’ll pay you back later.

He gestures towards a nearby Off Licence. Tom nods and continues his transaction. Barry beeps again.

BARRY (cont’d)
And a pack of fruit shorties!

CUT TO:
INT. BARRY’S CAR - LATER

The car is in motion once more. Barry, feet up on the dashboard, is devouring a biscuit and looking at his watch.

BARRY
Now, your lesson will be one hour long. That’s the union standard, there’s nothing we can do about that. We’ve had a bit of a f**k about, and we’re down to 50 minutes.

Tom opens his mouth to complain.

BARRY (cont’d)
It ain’t my fault he asked you for I.D. now is it? Be thankful I was there to vouch for you. Now as I explained to your mother, I do have a little errand to run this morning, so you’re going to have to drive me to pick some stuff up from the wife’s.

TOM
Auntie Portia? I heard you’d split up.

BARRY
It’s a trial separation, that’s all, everybody does it these days don’t they? Like a lovely little vacation from each other.

TOM
When did this happen?

BARRY
May 8th, 2003.

TOM
That’s quite a holiday.

BARRY
You know how it is, sometimes you book an extra couple of days in your hotel, maybe stop off in a couple of b and b’s on the way back cos it’s a great holiday and you don’t want it to finish, but you always come home in the end, Timmy, you always come home in the end.

TOM
It’s Tom.

BARRY
Now she lives over in Hutton village...

TOM
I’ll struggle to get there in 50 minutes!

BARRY
There and back mate, we don’t do things by halves at Gifford’s School of Motoring, know what I mean? You’d best step on it, hadn’t you?

INT. SOPHIA’S CAR - DAY

The car is stationary. It has pink, fluffy seat covers. The stereo plays smooth lounge music. Her PUPIL is an eighteen year old boy, who is having some difficulty keeping his mind on the task at hand.
He turns the ignition. It turns over but doesn’t ignite.

Sophia is a yummy mummy. Her voice is almost a purr.

SOPHIA
Try again, honey.

He turns it again: nothing.

SOPHIA (cont’d)
Oh honey, don’t be nervous.

He turns it again: still nothing.

SOPHIA (cont’d)
There’s no shame. It can happen to anyone.

Flustered, he turns it again. The car revs into life, jerks forward two feet, and stalls. They sit for moment. Her pupil hangs his head.

SOPHIA (cont’d)
Oh sweetheart, we’ll wait five minutes and try again.

INT. BARRY’S CAR - DAY

Barry and Tom are still driving, but the scenery outside has changed. They are in the countryside.

BARRY
Now, I’m not your normal, everyday driving instructor. You can go to any driving instructor and they’ll tell you how to reverse around a corner, they’ll show you how to execute a perfect three point turn, but they won’t teach you anything about the rich history of ideas behind each of these manoeuvres. Driving, it’s not a science, there isn’t a right and a wrong way to do it.

TOM
Really?

BARRY
Well, yeah, there is, but it’s more of an art is what I'm saying. See, you go to Mr. Mortimer, or, God help you, Van Cleef, you do the painting by numbers don’t you, get a nice picture of a kitten in a welly at the end of it, thank you very much. But you want something a bit more esoteric, the full cherubs-and-fat-birds-and-Jesus-Christ-Almighty-on-your-ceiling renaissance experience, you come to Barry Gifford. She’s having an orgasm.

Tom is confused.

TOM
Sorry, what?

Barry gestures out of the side window at a horse rider.

BARRY
Her on that horse. Yeah, it’s a well-known fact. It’s why you see so many birds bobbing up and down in the saddle, innit? You or me tried that, we’d just get ball-ache. Speaking of which, we’re nearly there.

The scenery outside the car has changed to a picturesque village.

BARRY (cont’d)
Now, when I tap the dashboard I want you to slowly and safely pull in to the kerb on the left.

TOM
I thought Auntie Portia lived on the other side of the road.

BARRY
Yeah, well, your Auntie Portia and her crack team of attack dogs at Clampett, Straddle and Sodomy or whatever the f**k her lawyers are called have imposed a U.N.-style no fly zone around her borders.

TOM
So...

BARRY
So I’m not allowed within 30 feet of her anymore. Don’t look like that, long distance relationships can work. So I’m going to tap the dashboard in five... Four... NOW!

The car pulls in, with a slight bump. They sit in silence for a moment.

TOM
Was that all right?

BARRY
(quietly)
You touched the kerb.

TOM
Did I? I didn’t notice.

BARRY
You touched the kerb.

TOM
Right. I’m sorry.

BARRY
Oh, you don’t apologise to me, sunshine. What good is apologising to me going to do? No, when we touch the kerb, we get out, and we apologise to the kerb.

Tom just looks blankly at Barry.

TOM
You... So do you want me to get out of the car?

BARRY
Well the kerb ain’t going to hear you from in here, is it?

TOM
No. No it isn’t.

Tom unbuckles his seatbelt.

EXT. OUTSIDE THE CAR - CONTINUOUS

Tom gets out of the car. He looks perplexed. His lips move almost imperceptibly as he mumbles an apology.
Barry shouts from inside the car.

BARRY
Louder!

TOM
I’m sorry Mr. Kerb for bumping into you, it won’t happen again.

Barry’s door opens and he starts to get out. He sounds really angry.

BARRY
You call that an apology? On your knees!

END OF PART ONE.

Another excellent piece of work, James.

Obviously it's halfway through the first half, so it's difficult to tell how the plot is unfolding, but still very enjoyable.

I particularly liked the kerb bit - a nice touch of insanity.

Yeah I enjoyed this. The family discount part made me laugh out loud. That hardly ever happens when I'm reading something to myself.

I like this, and perhaps the first Dogme effort.....

Looks pretty good to me. Barry could be excellent played by the right person.

By the way, well done for not making Barry's surname King.

Yes, this is very good. Clever gags that arise naturally out of character. And no characters trying self-consciously to be funny; always an excellent sign in a sitcom script. It will be interesting to see where you go with this, and in particular how the relationship between Barry and Tom develops, and how you develop Tom as a character.

Very good. Barry's character reminded me a bit of Steve Coogan in Saxondale, would that be about right? It certainly reads like that.

I thought this was very well written. It reminded me of The League of Gentlemen a bit. Which is no bad thing in my opinion.

Are you going to post some more?

Cheers everyone. I'm quite proud of this script, but I'm not sure that I developed Tom's character enough. Also, Barry's such a bugger that it's a struggle to keep it believable that Tom would ever come back for another lesson. Pressure from his mum (Barry's sister) is all I could think of.

When I was writing Barry's dialogue, I had a kind of ignorant version of Porridge's Fletch in my head.

Welcome back to part two...

EXT. OUTSIDE PORTIA’S HOUSE - DAY

Tom is on the doorstep, saying goodbye to the unseen Portia Gifford. The door closes and Tom trots down the path, carrying a canvas hold-all. He crosses the road and gets in to the car. He passes the bag to Barry.

TOM
Here you go. So what’s in the bag?

BARRY
What’s in the bag? Memories, my son, that’s what’s in the bag. Eight and a half years of marriage, a life less ordinary, the vapour trail slowly condensing behind a soaring supersonic rocket of love. The footprints of the Gods, Tim. This bag is history, my history. This zip, this zip is the Sphinx, zealously guarding the treasures contained in the tomb beneath it. Answer the riddle, Tim, answer the riddle and the Sphinx will reluctantly give up its secrets.

TOM
What’s the riddle?

BARRY
Oh, I don’t know. Er, what’s green and eats nuts?

TOM
I don’t know.

BARRY
Syphilis.

He opens the bag. He breathes in deeply through his nose.

BARRY (cont’d)
Oh Christ, I can smell her. I can smell her, Tim.

TOM
It’s Tom.

BARRY
Chip fat and cigar smoke. It’s like her signature fragrance, isn’t it? What’s in the bag? I’ll tell you what’s in the bag.

He pulls out a vinyl copy of the Phil Collins album "No Jacket Required". It has been neatly cut in half.

BARRY (cont’d)
Oh f**k me. I hope that’s the half with Sussudio on it.

INT. MR. MORTIMER’S CAR - DAY

Mr. Mortimer and his PUPIL drive along at about 10 miles an hour. The sound of the engine indicates that they are in first gear.

Mr. Mortimer speaks painfully slowly.

MR. MORTIMER
So for the duration of your first lesson, you will be in first gear. Next week, during what will be your second lesson, you will be in second gear, but you will also, when appropriate, be permitted to move down into first gear. The week after that, week three, will be your third lesson, and you will primarily be...

MR. MORTIMER’S PUPIL
Third gear! I’ll be in third gear during the third lesson, right?

Mr. Mortimer laughs a prissy little laugh.

MR. MORTIMER
Oh I should say not, your third lesson will primarily be a recap lesson, during which we shall reinforce all that we have learned of the first gear and the second gear. Now, lesson four, and I know what you’re thinking...

Mr. Mortimer’s pupil is looking furious.

MR. MORTIMER’S PUPIL
I bet you don’t.

A rambler overtakes them.

MR. MORTIMER
Lesson four will be your gateway into the heady delights of reverse.

INT. BARRY’S CAR - DAY
Barry and Tom drive on along country lanes. Barry is rummaging in his hold-all. He brings out half a wedding photograph, featuring him with long hair in a suit with the widest of lapels.

TOM
Are you sure Auntie Portia knows this is a trial separation?

BARRY
Tim, Tim, Tim, how little you know of the female of the species. Have you never seen Half a Sixpence? It’s a romantic gesture, that’s what this is.

TOM
Right, I’m only young, I’m probably missing the subtext.

He pulls out half a china bulldog.

BARRY
What? It’s got f**k all to do with Ceefax. It’s a game, innit? See, she’s preparing for the day when she rushes back into my arms, and we’ll spend a delirious afternoon putting all these things back together, and laughing about how f**king stupid she’s been. Yeah, and then we’ll climb the stairs to the boudoir and embark on a lovemaking marathon the likes of which hasn’t been seen since, well, speaking personally, since April 17th 2002.

TOM
She’s, uh, she’s a remarkable looking woman, isn’t she?

BARRY
Portia? Oh yeah, striking, that’s the word I’d use. She’s not exactly pretty...

TOM
No, not exactly.

BARRY
But she is striking. Like, she hits you, bam, in the face like a... A rock, or a big piece of wood. And her eyes. Like a doll’s eyes. Oh f**king hell, she’s halved the goldfish.

TOM
She’s what?

Barry pulls a small goldfish bowl out of the hold-all.

BARRY
Yeah, she’s left Chief Brody in here but she’s gone and kept Hooper, hasn’t she?

TOM
I expect he’s forgotten all about Hooper already.

BARRY
How can you say such a thing? Cover your ears, Chiefy, don’t listen to what the ignorant little tit-end is saying.

TOM
He’s forgotten I said it already. Two second memory.

BARRY
No, no, see, that’s where you’re wrong, college boy, because actually goldfish have remarkably good memories. Well, they’re good with faces.

TOM
Not so good with names, eh?

BARRY
If they were, yours would be on his list, wouldn’t it Chief Brody? Word to the wise: you do not mock fish in this car. I don’t have many rules, but there it is. I don’t know what you’re looking so chirpy about, anyway. You’ve only got ten minutes to get back to the test centre before your lesson ends.

TOM
But it must be another ten miles.

BARRY
Sorry sunshine, I don’t make the rules.

TOM
But.. Well, yes you do.

BARRY
In my experience, the flapping of a fat gob merely serves to increase drag and hinder the forward progress of the vehicle.

TOM
But I...

BARRY
Whoops, see that? The speedo just dropped another five.

They drive in silence for a while.

Out of the car window we see the narrow country road they are on is blocked by an oncoming vehicle. It is black, and has tinted windows.

INT. VAN CLEEF’S CAR - CONTINUOUS
Out of this car’s windscreen we can see Barry’s car coming to a halt. Van Cleef’s PUPIL also brakes. The cars face each other. The vibe is: spaghetti western shoot out.

Van Cleef’s eyes narrow. His pupil’s hand hovers nervously over the gear stick.

VAN CLEEF
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking: I could reverse, that passing place was only five metres back yonder. But you gotta ask yourself, how far are you gonna get if you keep going backwards? Oh, sure, you think, you reverse this time, it’s just the once, where’s the harm. And then next time you go mano e mano, it’s you that backs down again. And then it becomes a habit. You go backwards so often it feels like forwards to you. And up is down and black is white and I won’t have it, you hear? Not here, not in this car, oh they can push me around all they like out there, but not in here.

His pupil considers all this. A single bead of sweat dribbles down his face. He can’t take it. He makes a grab for the gear stick.

Van Cleef grabs his pupil’s hand and strikes a match off the back of it. He uses the match to light a mangled cheroot that now dangles from his lips.

VAN CLEEF (cont’d)
No. We wait.

He throws the match out of his passenger side window, which he then closes.

INT. BARRY’S CAR - CONTINUOUS

TOM
He’s not going to reverse. I can see a passing place not five metres behind him.

BARRY
You’d better make your move Tim. Driving instructors are like sharks in many ways, if we stop moving, we die. Also, we are both mammals, interestingly enough. That silly f**ker ain’t going to move. Remember: he who fights and runs away, lives to sneak up behind the bugger with a stout length of two-by-four a couple of weeks later.

TOM
But I’ll never get back to the DVLA on time if I do that. Can’t you get out and tell him to move or something?

BARRY
Oh, I’ll tell him something, don’t you worry. He’ll get told all right. There’s an ancient goldfish saying, isn’t there, Brody? Revenge is a dish best served cold. He’s on my list, let’s just leave it at that. And I’m not talking about my Christmas card list.

INT. VAN CLEEF’S CAR - CONTINUOUS
Through the windscreen we can see Barry’s car reversing down the road.

Van Cleef laughs long and heartily.

VAN CLEEF
You’re ok, kid.

He turns his head and spits out of the passenger side window, only the window isn’t wound down. A snotty gob dribbles down the inside of the window.

I thought this was quite promising. From a continuity point, would he be driving in traffic in his first lesson?

Sorry, I'm a continuity freak - with a silent 'continuity'.

You know what? This is top-notch stuff. I could see it in prime time if it weren't for the swears. You might want to rethink them.

Quote: ContainsNuts @ June 27 2008, 4:41 PM BST

I thought this was quite promising. From a continuity point, would he be driving in traffic in his first lesson?

View original

I did.

Quote: Graham Bandage @ June 27 2008, 4:45 PM BST

You know what? This is top-notch stuff. I could see it in prime time if it weren't for the swears. You might want to rethink them.

I did.

View original

You met your instructor and drove off straight away? Why bother with the instructor?

Sorry, I'm probably being more anal than George Michael in a loo.

He took me around the park for the first half of the lesson, and then it was straight into Saturday traffic.

I don't mind telling you I nearly cacked myself.

I drove on a dual carriageway on my first lesson. I hardly cried at all.

As for the swearing, you're right. I always advise people to take the swears out of sitcom scripts, just because they limit the potential audience, and here I am with a script peppered with f-bombs. Duh!

I think it's something to do with the rhythm of Barry's speech in my head. I need to find either a less offensive swear, or just get rid altogether.