I N T E R V I E W : deutsch
Let's dive right into it: What do you see as the central challenges in developing a TV series?
Firstly, developing a series is a very broad and complex adventure. But I think the most important thing is for the development team to agree on a sufficiently clear vision at the outset and be willing to persistently defend it. Film is a team sport – but it requires clear instructions on which game is actually being played.
And in terms of the narrative?
Well, there are a few "basic requirements" that should be met. One central aspect is undoubtedly the world in which the story takes place. This world should be interesting and fascinating, ideally even feel like something you've never seen before.
But one could argue that countless high school dramas of the past decades speak a different language.
Caught me there! (laughs). No, seriously, this example actually illustrates my point quite well: It's not about the fact that the world of the story has never been seen in its foundation before. On the contrary, high school dramas or high school comedies have the enormous advantage that school is a microcosm that most people know from their own experience. This makes your job much easier, as it already provides a certain structure while at the same time being associated with an expectation on the part of the viewer. And having an expectation is worth its weight in gold.
What do you mean exactly?
In essence, it's simple: without an expectation, there's no surprise – and without surprise, there's no successful narrative.
Does that really apply? There are plenty of experts who claim that emotional connection, the identification of the viewers with the characters, is the deciding factor.
Yes, identification is extremely important. But I personally believe that we don't identify so much with the character itself as we do with the conflict that the character experiences. That's another, extremely important topic, which we can talk about in detail later.
Okay, let's save that for later. Back to the world of the story.
As I said, it's less about the fact that the world of the story has never been seen in its foundation before, but that it contains a new aspect, a new flavor. It's really about mixing the familiar with the unfamiliar. Or even better, recharging the familiar with the unfamiliar. Some examples that come to mind in the high school genre would be "Glee," "Wednesday," or of course, "Stranger Things."
That sounds a bit like John Truby, who always proclaims genre combination as the success formula for contemporary narratives.
Yes, in a way, you could describe a genre as a kind of world with a loosely defined set of rules and expectations on the part of the viewers. Or, as my long-time writing partner Valerie Lasserre put it so beautifully, like a traditional dish or a national culinary tradition. But there are also examples where the genre mix is less clear, such as the excellent Donald Glover series "Atlanta," which actually tells a very traditional rags-to-riches story of the rise of an underprivileged rapper – but with surreal elements. So in essence, it's about somehow adding an element of unpredictability to a known world that brings tension because it promises further surprises.
Which brings us back to your statement that surprise is the core of a successful narrative.
Yes, we love to be surprised. Not necessarily by a bill that we didn't see coming, but when we, as viewers, are in a safe space. And every good surprise recharges the viewer's attention, increases attention. But I wouldn't describe surprise as the core. Rather, as an essential ingredient.
What is the core then, if not surprise?
I don't believe there's one single core. Narratives function on different levels. For example, if you compare the two genres of drama and crime. Drama certainly doesn't work without the aforementioned identification. We have to be able to empathize with the characters, otherwise the drama falls flat. But if you look at the extremely popular crime genre in Germany, this works for many viewers primarily through the puzzle aspect of the classic whodunit. But you can definitely say that the more levels a story functions on, the more suspense it generates and the better it works.
But with long-running series, the beloved habit also plays a big role. The series characters become "friends" that you want to see again.
Absolutely true. I learned this extensively in my work on daily soap operas. This community aspect is also an important part of creating viewer loyalty.
And this, let's call it a "community feeling," works differently than identification with the character?
I think so. I believe we identify less with the character itself, their gender, age, socioeconomic status, etc., than with the central conflict that drives this character.
Can you give an example?
How about the fantastic series "Pose." It's set in the LGBTQ community in 1980s New York. I'm not transgender, nor am I gay, nor have I ever tried to win a drag queen competition. Nevertheless, I regularly sat in front of the television with tears in my eyes because there's a universal conflict underlying the story that I can also relate to: the characters are outsiders searching for a home, for belonging in a world where there seems to be no safe place for them.
And why do you think this identification with a conflict works?
Because, whether we're actively aware of it or not, we're not just looking for escapism, distraction, or entertainment. What attracts us even more is the search for guidance, for help in life. We're interested in how someone else has solved the same conflict that we've also gone through, how they dealt with the problem. In addition, resonance is an important factor. As humans, we find it very pleasant when we're not alone with our problem, our conflict, when the world around us is "in tune with us."
But isn't that just another aspect of community?
You might be right. I hadn't actually looked at it that way before.
If we now try to compile your building blocks for a successful series, they would be: firstly a clear vision, secondly a familiar yet surprisingly different world and thridley a central conflict that many viewers can relate to from their own experiences.
Yes, that's pretty close. But those could also be the building blocks for a movie. For a series, we obviously need much more narrative material, which this setup must be able to generate. So, the setup for a series needs to be more complex.
What exactly do you mean by that?
This is something I've learned extensively while working on daily series. Only sufficient complexity in the character network, the relationships between characters, as well as in the psychological development of each character, with their secrets, abysses, blind spots, but also strong goals and plans, ensures that something new can emerge over the longer screen time of the series, surprises can be generated for the audience – without them coming from outside, so to speak, being plot-driven.
So, on one hand, a clear and easily communicable vision for the series and on the other, a basic construct that is complex and multi-layered to generate a lot of plots.
Exactly. These are partially opposing movements. You start with a vision, then you expand this vision, design the world of the story, the psychological inner world of the characters, making it more complex, and in the end, you must still return to clarity.
Listening to you, it all seems to have little to do with the romantic notion of being an author, where one is "kissed by the muse" and simply lets their creativity run wild.
For me, having a craft-based framework helps, being able to explain why I consider this or that decision to be correct. But there are also fantastic authors who can only be persuaded with the greatest difficulty to even put the outline of a story on paper. Sam Levinson, the creator of "Euphoria," always writes first drafts. But that's a kind of trust you have to earn. Plus, it certainly helps that he's also the director and can manage many things "on the short path." (laughs)
Since you've brought up the topic of trust, how important is trust in collaboration?
A certain level of trust is essential. Feeling trust from the production side, from the network side, helps tremendously in being creative. A trustful, long-term collaboration is, of course, exactly what every screenwriter is looking for...
***
Firstly, developing a series is a very broad and complex adventure. But I think the most important thing is for the development team to agree on a sufficiently clear vision at the outset and be willing to persistently defend it. Film is a team sport – but it requires clear instructions on which game is actually being played.
And in terms of the narrative?
Well, there are a few "basic requirements" that should be met. One central aspect is undoubtedly the world in which the story takes place. This world should be interesting and fascinating, ideally even feel like something you've never seen before.
But one could argue that countless high school dramas of the past decades speak a different language.
Caught me there! (laughs). No, seriously, this example actually illustrates my point quite well: It's not about the fact that the world of the story has never been seen in its foundation before. On the contrary, high school dramas or high school comedies have the enormous advantage that school is a microcosm that most people know from their own experience. This makes your job much easier, as it already provides a certain structure while at the same time being associated with an expectation on the part of the viewer. And having an expectation is worth its weight in gold.
What do you mean exactly?
In essence, it's simple: without an expectation, there's no surprise – and without surprise, there's no successful narrative.
Does that really apply? There are plenty of experts who claim that emotional connection, the identification of the viewers with the characters, is the deciding factor.
Yes, identification is extremely important. But I personally believe that we don't identify so much with the character itself as we do with the conflict that the character experiences. That's another, extremely important topic, which we can talk about in detail later.
Okay, let's save that for later. Back to the world of the story.
As I said, it's less about the fact that the world of the story has never been seen in its foundation before, but that it contains a new aspect, a new flavor. It's really about mixing the familiar with the unfamiliar. Or even better, recharging the familiar with the unfamiliar. Some examples that come to mind in the high school genre would be "Glee," "Wednesday," or of course, "Stranger Things."
That sounds a bit like John Truby, who always proclaims genre combination as the success formula for contemporary narratives.
Yes, in a way, you could describe a genre as a kind of world with a loosely defined set of rules and expectations on the part of the viewers. Or, as my long-time writing partner Valerie Lasserre put it so beautifully, like a traditional dish or a national culinary tradition. But there are also examples where the genre mix is less clear, such as the excellent Donald Glover series "Atlanta," which actually tells a very traditional rags-to-riches story of the rise of an underprivileged rapper – but with surreal elements. So in essence, it's about somehow adding an element of unpredictability to a known world that brings tension because it promises further surprises.
Which brings us back to your statement that surprise is the core of a successful narrative.
Yes, we love to be surprised. Not necessarily by a bill that we didn't see coming, but when we, as viewers, are in a safe space. And every good surprise recharges the viewer's attention, increases attention. But I wouldn't describe surprise as the core. Rather, as an essential ingredient.
What is the core then, if not surprise?
I don't believe there's one single core. Narratives function on different levels. For example, if you compare the two genres of drama and crime. Drama certainly doesn't work without the aforementioned identification. We have to be able to empathize with the characters, otherwise the drama falls flat. But if you look at the extremely popular crime genre in Germany, this works for many viewers primarily through the puzzle aspect of the classic whodunit. But you can definitely say that the more levels a story functions on, the more suspense it generates and the better it works.
But with long-running series, the beloved habit also plays a big role. The series characters become "friends" that you want to see again.
Absolutely true. I learned this extensively in my work on daily soap operas. This community aspect is also an important part of creating viewer loyalty.
And this, let's call it a "community feeling," works differently than identification with the character?
I think so. I believe we identify less with the character itself, their gender, age, socioeconomic status, etc., than with the central conflict that drives this character.
Can you give an example?
How about the fantastic series "Pose." It's set in the LGBTQ community in 1980s New York. I'm not transgender, nor am I gay, nor have I ever tried to win a drag queen competition. Nevertheless, I regularly sat in front of the television with tears in my eyes because there's a universal conflict underlying the story that I can also relate to: the characters are outsiders searching for a home, for belonging in a world where there seems to be no safe place for them.
And why do you think this identification with a conflict works?
Because, whether we're actively aware of it or not, we're not just looking for escapism, distraction, or entertainment. What attracts us even more is the search for guidance, for help in life. We're interested in how someone else has solved the same conflict that we've also gone through, how they dealt with the problem. In addition, resonance is an important factor. As humans, we find it very pleasant when we're not alone with our problem, our conflict, when the world around us is "in tune with us."
But isn't that just another aspect of community?
You might be right. I hadn't actually looked at it that way before.
If we now try to compile your building blocks for a successful series, they would be: firstly a clear vision, secondly a familiar yet surprisingly different world and thridley a central conflict that many viewers can relate to from their own experiences.
Yes, that's pretty close. But those could also be the building blocks for a movie. For a series, we obviously need much more narrative material, which this setup must be able to generate. So, the setup for a series needs to be more complex.
What exactly do you mean by that?
This is something I've learned extensively while working on daily series. Only sufficient complexity in the character network, the relationships between characters, as well as in the psychological development of each character, with their secrets, abysses, blind spots, but also strong goals and plans, ensures that something new can emerge over the longer screen time of the series, surprises can be generated for the audience – without them coming from outside, so to speak, being plot-driven.
So, on one hand, a clear and easily communicable vision for the series and on the other, a basic construct that is complex and multi-layered to generate a lot of plots.
Exactly. These are partially opposing movements. You start with a vision, then you expand this vision, design the world of the story, the psychological inner world of the characters, making it more complex, and in the end, you must still return to clarity.
Listening to you, it all seems to have little to do with the romantic notion of being an author, where one is "kissed by the muse" and simply lets their creativity run wild.
For me, having a craft-based framework helps, being able to explain why I consider this or that decision to be correct. But there are also fantastic authors who can only be persuaded with the greatest difficulty to even put the outline of a story on paper. Sam Levinson, the creator of "Euphoria," always writes first drafts. But that's a kind of trust you have to earn. Plus, it certainly helps that he's also the director and can manage many things "on the short path." (laughs)
Since you've brought up the topic of trust, how important is trust in collaboration?
A certain level of trust is essential. Feeling trust from the production side, from the network side, helps tremendously in being creative. A trustful, long-term collaboration is, of course, exactly what every screenwriter is looking for...
***