If you’ve written a few sketches you can probably recognize the feeling of something not quite working. This can be extra frustrating if you see the problem, but don’t know how to fix it. There are a million ways a sketch can go wrong, but there are some problems that pop up repeatedly, even among seasoned writers. Here are the ones I see most often, and how I approach fixes.
1. “I know what my first beat is, but after that I don’t know where to go.”
DIAGNOSIS: Your game or point of view is unclear.
SOLUTION: This usually happens because you know something is funny, but you haven’t yet taken the time to figure out why. So do that. What is the surprising truth you are highlighting? What unusual thing or behavior can shine a light on that truth or make that surprise feel even more surprising? What aspect of the unusual thing should be repeated and heightened? If you’re unsure what your next beats are, it’s likely you don’t have a clear answer to these questions.
2. “I thought I knew how to heighten my sketch, but every beat just repeats a version of the first one.”
DIAGNOSIS: The focus of your game is too narrow.
SOLUTION: Write down what you think the game of your sketch is. Is your game a description of a larger pattern of behavior, or a very specific repeated action? If it’s the latter, it could be that what you think is the game is only your first beat. If so, you have to take a mental step back and broaden your thinking. Is there a bigger picture your first beat fits into? What broader conclusions can be drawn from that first beat? What interesting irony can be extrapolated from that one bit of unusual behavior? What specifics might change that still fit into the same pattern of behavior and illuminate the same surprising truth.
3. “My sketch is too long! There’s no way I can get this under five pages.”
DIAGNOSIS #1: You have too many beats.
SOLUTION: Count up your game beats. If you have more than five, you probably have too many.1 You have to cut some of them. This is sad. You worked hard on this idea, and you think all your beats are funny. And they might be! But if you’re not surprising the audience with every beat, they’ll get bored and turn against the whole sketch, not just the beat they didn’t like. Cutting the weakest beats can make your other ones stronger.
If you struggle to choose what to delete, it may be that what you’re really struggling with is finality. Here’s a tip to get around that: instead of deleting, move the beat you think you have to cut into a different document and save it. Now it’s not really gone, it’s just in storage. As any pack rat knows, it’s easier to move something out of sight than it is to get rid of it entirely.
DIAGNOSIS #2: You have too much space between beats.
SOLUTION: If you have a reasonable number of beats (see above), it could be that you’re taking too much time between your game beats. How much time is too much time? This is ultimately something you’ll learn to “feel” depending on the specific rhythm of the sketch, but at the risk of being overly prescriptive: five lines between your first two beats is probably too much, and that the space between beats should get shorter and shorter as your sketch goes on. We want to see you play the game not take a bunch of time outs! Read through your sketch and see if any parts feel slow, or like you’re taking too much to set up the next beat.
DIAGNOSIS #3: You’re taking too long to start your game.
SOLUTION: Your opening might be too long. Do you start the game in 3-5 lines? If not, figure out how to shorten your opening. I promise you can do it, and it will leave more room for the fun part of the sketch.
DIAGNOSIS #4: You’re trying to do too much.
SOLUTION: It could be that you’re trying to play two games at the same time, and each game is taking up a normal amount of time. In this case, choose the game you think is stronger and abandon the other. Or write two versions of the sketch using each game and see which one you like better. It could also be that you’re doing too much by trying to say more than you have space for. This often happens with political sketches, where the writer is trying to fit in a whole dissertation. The things you’re saying may be true, but do they support the game you’ve established?
4. “My sketch is boring! I was bored while I was writing it and I can tell people are bored when we read it.”
DIAGNOSIS #1: You’re heightening too slowly.
SOLUTION: If people are bored it’s because they can already see where you’re going, and now they’re waiting for you to catch up. You never want this to happen. You want to be just a little bit ahead of the audience at all times. Don’t forget: the audience is as good as spotting patterns as you are. If they know you’re going to the top of the mountain, and you go only halfway up, they won’t like that, AND they won’t like it when you finally reach the top. When in doubt, err on the side of bigger, faster heightening. It’s easier to slow a sketch down in a second draft than it is to speed it up.
DIAGNOSIS #2: Your beats are too predictable.
SOLUTION: You might have heightened at just the right pace, but the audience was still able to see where you were going every step of the way. In this case it’s not that you’re heightening too slowly, but rather that the path was too clearly laid out. Try disrupting your pattern with misdirects, side jokes, and interesting reactions from other characters.
5. “People seem confused by my sketch, but it makes sense to me.”
DIAGNOSIS #1: You don’t have a point of view, or your point of view is weak.
SOLUTION: People get confused when they start looking for meaning that isn’t there. Re-investigate your POV. What is the surprising truth. Do you know why your sketch is funny? Do you know what you’re saying? Are you making game moves with purpose, or are you mindlessly repeating a specific action. Write your POV down and ask yourself: Is it true? Is there an element of surprise? If you POV is non-existent, unclear, or weak take a moment to reflect on it. Don’t start editing your sketch until you can explain the funny juxtaposition at the heart of it.
DIAGNOSIS #2: You heightened too quickly.
SOLUTION: It could be that you have a strong POV, but it just isn’t being communicated clearly. If you’re able to explain what your sketch is about and people respond with something like, “Ohhhhhh, okay! THAT makes sense.” That means some element of your “surprising truth” is being buried. Probably the “truth.” Look at your first beat. It should either be clear and relatable enough that the audience recognizes it immediately, or there should be a moment immediately preceding or following the first beat where the unusual behavior is justified in a way that connects it with the real world. If the audience understands how your heightened sketch world relates to the world they know, they’ll listen with rapt attention. If you fail to make that connection in the beginning, they will remain confused for the rest of the sketch.
6. “My straight man is slowing down my sketch! I hate this character!”
DIAGNOSIS #1: You don’t need the straight man.
SOLUTION: The straight man is a potentially valuable character because it is a single person who handles a lot of technical necessities of a sketch.2 The straight man can define and reinforce the baseline reality. As the audience cipher, they provide a connection between the sketch world and the real world. As a foil to the unusual character, they make the weirdness of the game stand out even more. But these benefits collectively have a huge drawback — the straight man can be difficult to write well. It’s all too easy for the straight man to stop behaving in a natural, human way, and become merely a collection of necessary writing mechanics. The other diagnoses below address the most common mistakes writers make when writing a straight man, but first I have to acknowledge that they’re not always necessary. You don’t need a straight man if your sketch has other mechanisms to establish reality, connect with the audience, and underline the unusual behavior. If you think your sketch should have a straight man, but it’s still giving you trouble, read on.
DIAGNOSIS #2: Your straight man has no motivation.
SOLUTION: A common problem with the straight man is that they stop the fun of the sketch. The audience wants to see the unusual behavior get crazier and crazier, and yet here’s this asshole trying to keep that from happening!
A straight man like this is a contrarian. They have no desires, no suggestions, nothing to offer accept resistance. This slows the pace of your sketch, but also creates a less effective straight man. The straight man is supposed to be the audience’s representative, and you’ve created a very unlikeable tight-ass to stand in for them.
Your straight man should be opposed to the game for a specific reason. Is the unusual behavior making them late for work, or ruining a date, or revealing a lie? Knowing why the straight man is opposed to the unusual behavior will make them more relatable and more human. We know what it’s like to want what the straight man wants. The audience is now rooting for everyone to succeed. They want to see the unusual character be weird, but they also sympathize with the straight man and want to see them triumph. This also gives the straight man a reason to exist beyond pure opposition to the game. They aren’t trying to stop the fun because they hate fun; they’re trying to stop the fun for a reason we can all understand.
DIAGNOSIS #3: Your straight man is stupid.
SOLUTION: Maybe you didn’t make your straight man a fun-hating jerk. Maybe you made them a total moron. A stupid straight man is not playing to the top of their intelligence. They are reactive, sitting around, waiting for unusual behavior to recur, instead of expecting it to recur and being proactive against it. A stupid straight man is robotic, trying the same tactic after every beat, not realizing that this never solves their problem. A stupid straight man could leave the situation at any time, with no consequences, but never does. A stupid straight man might recognize that the unusual character is “being crazy” but does nothing else to address the situation except say “this is crazy!” Again, the straight man is the audience stand-in. If you make a stupid straight man they will resent that you think so little of them. They will stop identifying with them.
7. “People say my sketch is mean, but I think they’re just being too sensitive. Jokes make fun of people all the time!”
DIAGNOSIS: Your sketch is targeting a low-status character.
SOLUTION: Not every kind of comedy has a target, but some do. Know the status of your target. Kicking a high status figure feels like a surprising inversion of the world around us; kicking a low-status figure is just bullying, and that’s going to make people uncomfortable. If your intention is to slaughter sacred cows, you better be sure they’re actually sacred and not just some poor farmer’s livestock.
8. “I don’t know how to end my sketch.”
DIAGNOSIS: You’re bored.
SOLUTION: Endings can be tricky, but if you’re following your game you can usually come up with several different possibilities. When writers say they don’t know how to end the sketch they often mean they grew bored of the sketch before they reached the end. No ending seems funny because the concept itself is no longer surprising. They’ve run out of steam. If you find yourself in this situation, see Problem #4: “My sketch is boring” above. Make the sketch interesting for yourself again. Can you come up with a beat so heightened even you are not sure it works? Can you take a swing so unexpected it feels like it’s breaking the sketch? These ideas may not work, but give them a try. They might be more fruitful than you first think and you know one thing for sure: they’re surprising.
One exception to this is a “beat parade.” Sometimes a sketch will have a rapid-fire run of beats — a new one each line, usually at the end of the sketch. Something like this will obviously affect your “count” but, hey, none of this is an exact science. The point is, it’s possible to have too much of a good thing. Make sure every beat is not just good on its own, but good as a part of a greater whole.
For more thoughts on the straight man, stay tuned for an upcoming interview with Brennan Lee Mulligan.
Hi. How do you feel about proposing rewrites to someone else's sketch ? You haven't talked about it at all in your articles if I remember correctly. I feel like some people have trouble finding the motivation / time to go over their sketches again when they get criticism even though the envisionned new version could be great, though require some work. But it also feels like maybe it's inappropriate to write someone else's script for them.
Man, as soon as I read "top of your intelligence", I couldn't stop myself from hearing the UCB audiobook voices for the rest of the mail. Much of what you write has a corresponding element in there !