Tina Fey und weitere Autoren mit Sonder-Scripten

Wie Serienfiguren die Coronavirus-Pandemie erleben würden

03.04.20 16:36
Serien
Spoilerfrei
Maik
03.04.20

Welchen Stellenwert Fernsehserien mittlerweile in unserer Gesellschaft eingenommen haben, zeigt die aktuelle Situation rund um die Coronavirus-Pandemie recht eindrucksvoll. Unser Leben wurde enorm beschnitten, aber Netflix, Prime Video und Co. schenken und Inhalte, die ablenken und die viele Zeit, die wir daheim verbringen, zu füllen wissen. Zwar mit geminderter Bandbreite, aber es gibt wenigstens massig Content gegen die Langeweile (wenn auch gerade etliche Produktionen verschoben werden…). Doch was wäre, wenn die Charaktere unserer Lieblingsserien mit den aktuellen Geschehnissen konfrontiert würden?

Maria Elena Fernandez hat für Vulture 37 DrehbuchautorInnen dazu bringen können, einen kleinen Script-Abschnitt bzw. eine Umschreibung zu verfassen, wie eine Covid-19-Sonderepisode aussehen könnte. Gefolgt sind dem originellen Aufruf unter anderem Tina Fey und Mike Schur, die Sonder-Szenen für Serien wie „30 Rock“, „Parks & Recreation“ oder auch „Curb Your Enthusiasm“ verfasst haben. Großartige Aktion und irgendwie ist es Balsam auf die geschundene Krisen-Seele, sich diese kleinen Bonus-Happen durchzulesen und sich dabei vor dem inneren Auge die Szenen auszumalen. Stark!

„TV fans, I have such a special surprise for you! I asked TV writers how favorite characters would handle these times. I have laughed & cried & cried while laughing preparing this. I am hoping it lifts your spirits & helps you remember good times.“

Hier ein paar ausgewählte Script-Passagen (alles Zitate von den Drehbuchautoren):

30 Rock (Tina Fey und Sam Means)

Tracy has already contracted and survived the virus (“My snakes eat bats and then I use my snakes to practice French kissing, so it was inevitable, Liz Lemon!”), so he would declare himself an immune “green person” and set out to help. (Tracy: “Like Mister Rogers said, ‘Look like the helpers.’”) So, dressed as a firefighter, he would volunteer his time delivering illegal box jellyfish to the elderly.

Jack would try to get Liz to go to the secret GE island off the coast of Connecticut: “It will just be the top executives, any wives under 40, and yes, Lauer will be there, but only because it was built into his deal years ago.” Liz refuses to go because of her desire to be egalitarian but also because everyone would probably be barefoot. Pass. She would shelter in place like nobody’s business and still somehow dodge sex with James Marsden.

Kenneth would be the most prepared, having grown up Eighth Day Resurrected Covenant of the Holy Trinity and observing its End of Days Countdown Calendar, which is different from most calendars. “For example, we’ve only had Christmas twice, but Easter is every four hours.” Jack would offer to buy Kenneth’s cupboard of canned chickpeas for a million dollars, but Kenneth would just give him two cans for free. “Hoarding is a sin, sir! Just like skateboarding or riding a horse you’re not related to!”

Parks & Recreation (Mike Schur)

First of all, Leslie would’ve known the CDC protocols for social distancing already, and they would’ve been instituted within 24 hours of the first reports of the coronavirus in America. A full-color poster explaining what people could and could not do would be posted on every lamppost and message board in Pawnee, and she would write a song with lyrics explaining what everyone’s responsibilities were going forward. Maybe it would’ve been set to a famous existing song, like “Imagine,” by John Lennon. But the lyrics would help people. And not make everyone angry.

Second, she more than anyone would recognize the importance of community. All town forums would be continued online. Zoom would be installed on everyone’s computers overnight. She would worry, though, about the lack of in-person contact, so she and Ann would have proper six-foot-apart walk-and-talks every day. If Ann swayed closer than six feet, she would be gently chastised, perhaps via spray bottle. Eventually, Leslie would invent some kind of wearable Hula-Hoop rig that would demonstrate how far apart they needed to be.

She would check in on Tom and Donna and April and Andy and 50 other people four times a day to see if any of them had a fever or cough. They would pretend to be annoyed but would secretly love it.

Ron would be thrilled because now there’s a reason for him to be alone with no one bothering him. But he’d worry about Leslie.

The Boys (Eric Kripke)

Billy: Oi, you there. Yeah, you. Just keep your two meters away, mate. You take one step closer, and I’ll take that flagpole there, shove it so far down your throat, the Stars ’n’ Stripes will pop right outta your bum, folks will be salutin’ your arse all day. Trust me, I can bollocks a bastard and still keep my social distance.

Homelander: We are Americans! Would John Wayne be scared of a flu? No! So get out there and spend money! Make sure our stock market flourishes! And if a few million elderly people die, well, Grandma and Grandpa are making a heroic sacrifice for America! I’ll see all of you out at Easter! —

Frasier (Christopher Lloyd)

FRASIER sits at a table with a cappuccino.

FRASIER
Good morning, Niles.

NILES sits at a separate table with a cappuccino.

NILES
And to you, Frasier.

NILES, in rubber gloves, wipes his chair with his handkerchief, then moves on to wipe his open laptop. We now see they are in different houses and speak via Skype. NILES wipes his camera lens.

FRASIER
Not that I don’t delight in the squealing of your rubber glove across the camera lens, but Dr. Freud might wonder if an excess cleansing of one’s physical space doesn’t bespeak the distinctly unclean state of one’s own mind.

NILES
I have had impure thoughts during this confinement. Last night at virtual wine club, I assayed a ripe Bordeaux held more promise than the loose laces on a beer-hall barmaid’s peasant blouse.

Brooklyn Nine-Nine (Dan Goor)

Captain Holt

“When I am not on the front lines of the pandemic with my squad, I am, of course, self-quarantining with my husband, Kevin, and our beloved dog, Cheddar the Dog. For breakfast, we have our favorite meal: unbuttered plain bagels with a side of lukewarm water. For lunch, we split a whole-wheat no-flavor Nutrition Brick (without crunch), and for dinner, we each have a portion of Kevin’s boiled rice. And for dessert, we split another portion of Kevin’s boiled rice.

Today I read Kevin’s favorite author, Faulkner, aloud to him. Then it was time for “Oboe Hour” (in which we listen to oboe music for one hour), then we did a Zumba class. Next, I read Cheddar’s favorite author, Rimbaud, aloud to him in the original French. Then I denied a request from Jake to participate in something called a “Mario Party.” After that, Kevin, Cheddar, and I learned how to build and operate an abacus (Kevin was hopeless). Then we took a stroll through the neighborhood, maintaining a distance of three meters from one another.

Now that I have reread what I just wrote, I realize that my routine hasn’t changed at all from before the pandemic. Be safe. Stay inside. Read your dog Rimbaud.”

LOST (Carlton Cuse)

Sawyer

“Well … sonofabitch. You miss the boat on your COVID-one-nine stock-up? You need toilet paper? A thermometer or perhaps some slightly out-of-date chloroquine pills? Go to GetItFromSawyer.com. I may just have a hatchload of top-quality Dharma products available, including the above-mentioned items, plus Dharma beer, ranch dressing, tequila, green beans, refried beans, pinto beans, black beans, rubbing alcohol, chicken-noodle soup, boxed wine, soap, olives, chocolate-mint cookies, my own homemade boar jerky, and one asthma inhaler. Until we all get out of this purgatory — that’s just an expression; it’s not real purgatory — let me help you out. And so you know, time travel’s a bitch, but I may have gotten a little peek into our future, and we’re all gonna make it through this. (But I still don’t know who those people were on that other damn outrigger.) Until then, lots of love, stay safe … and namaste!”

24 (Howard Gordon)

After single-handedly stopping the spread of the highly lethal Cordilla virus, Jack Bauer is no stranger to pandemics. But because Jack is accustomed to taking action, he’d be feeling pretty restless in the face of the restrictions imposed by social distancing. Sure, he’d follow the rules, and probably sample that free month of Disney+ … unless, of course, he had the chance to do a crossover episode with another television show. One involving time travel. So he could roll back the clock a couple of months and travel to the “wet market” in Wuhan — the alleged ground zero of the animal-to-human transmission of COVID-19 — and free the pangolins and the bats from their cages before the shit hit the fan. Of course, none of us would ever know that Jack Bauer had saved the world yet again. But Jack would be just fine with that.

The Conners (Bruce Helford)

The Conners have six family members all living in the same house. They’re strapped for cash, and stocking up for long-term isolation isn’t realistic for them. The Lunch Box would be shut down for the duration, so Becky and her baby and Jackie have no income. Dan wouldn’t have any construction jobs to bank. Darlene and Ben’s mug-shot magazine — which depends on ads from local businesses — would grind to a halt. Mark is too young to work. Harris’s job at the tattoo parlor would be on hold because that’s not an essential business. Of everyone in the family, she would be the most likely one to be out there hustling, making deliveries for Postmates or taking a job no one else wants, risking her health in a grocery store or maybe doing much-needed cleanup work at one of the overcrowded Lanford hospitals. As a result, she’s probably living with Jackie to protect Dan from being exposed to the virus. A little dark? People, it’s the Conners!

You’re the Worst (Stephen Falk)

Jimmy and Gretchen would not know anything was happening in the world because mostly they stay home having weird sex and drinking. Gretchen would just be happy to hear her office is closed for the foreseeable future and wouldn’t read any further in the email, assuming the “COVID-19” in the subject line was just the kind of lame business-speak she’s highly proficient at pretending to understand. Edgar would be in a constant anxious state, in and out of the house with mask and gloves on, wiping down all groceries and takeout food, but they would simply wait impatiently for him to be done with whatever dumb shit he’s doing before grabbing their now-sanitized snacks and heading back down to their room, never wondering why Edgar was raving about that bad Mexican beer and wearing panic accoutrements, simply assuming he’ll eventually get his meds right or freak out and kill someone — either outcome being acceptable as long as it requires no effort on their parts.

During the confinement period, Jimmy might occasionally venture out to write — becoming mildly curious about the lack of traffic — and ultimately be confused about finding his café closed. Naturally Jimmy would not investigate any further, other than to assume that since cafés follow a terrible business model — a place where people spend maybe six bucks to occupy a table for hours! — it finally led them to financial ruin. Neither Jimmy or Gretchen read the paper or watch live television or follow anyone substantive on social media (Gretchen’s feed is all internet-famous animals and drunk teens falling off stuff), so the news only reaches them when Jimmy receives his sister’s ashes in the mail; she contracted the virus when she drunkenly tried to make out with Boris Johnson one night when he was walking his dog past the pub she was puking in front of. But by then, everything is open again and Jimmy and Gretchen quickly get sidetracked from having a real discussion about it when they discover that Fast & Furious 9 has been pushed off for a year. They spend the evening getting plastered, marathoning the first eight movies in the series, and lamenting how unfair life is.

Curb Your Enthusiasm (Jeff Schaffer)

How are we supposed to manage day-to-day in this new era? Larry David has been trying to teach you for years: He put Purell on each table at Latte Larry’s, he waged a jihad against defecation in his restrooms, and he’s been practicing social distancing since before he knew what it was called. In fact, Larry finds that the government-mandated rules on social distancing don’t go far enough. They don’t cover group text chains, reply-alls, people who don’t know how to get off the phone, favors, or the online communal anythings that are inflicted upon us on a daily basis. We are doing a lot, but Larry thinks we need to do more. Larry wants his social distancing measured not in meters but in miles.

Isolated in his house, Larry doesn’t feel imprisoned. He feels relief. Think of all the time he’s saved because he doesn’t have to come up with a good lie about why he doesn’t want to have lunch with you or go to your poetry reading. When he goes for a walk, you can rest assured there will be no stop and chats. He might slip on to the golf course, even though it’s closed, and try to sneak a round in, but he’ll find that without people around, the black swans have gotten even more territorial.

Jeff would pretend to test positive for the coronavirus just to avoid Susie. But Susie would also “test positive” just to make Jeff miserable. So Susie and Jeff would be locked up in the house together. And the number of affairs Jeff has would go down but not to zero.

Leon would be dubious about all the hand-wringing about the hand-washing protocols. Especially after urination. “Why should I wash my hands when all I touched was me?”

When this is all over, Larry will go to the car wash to get it thoroughly cleaned. As he watches them put the finishing touches to the interior, he sees the car-wash employee sneeze into the drying towel … and then continue to clean the steering wheel with it. And Larry will walk home.

YOU – Du wirst mich lieben (Sera Gamble)

Even in far more normal times than these, social distancing is a key aspect of stalking. The whole deal is you gotta stay far enough away that the subject of your interest doesn’t notice you watching. Currently, all nonessential workers in California have been told to stay home. This would include bookstore managers. But Joe Goldberg is such a good guy. He’d be the first to go get groceries and supplies for his neighbors, the single mom down the street, and, of course, anyone who might be self-isolating in the cage in his storage unit. And while he’s out and about, well … the addition of a face-obscuring mask or scarf and nitrile gloves to his usual jacket-and-cap “invisibility” look would render him even more anonymous, making this a perfect time to walk by an interesting uncurtained window without fear of being recognized.

Of course, it is very difficult to kill someone with, say, a brick or knife or hammer while staying six feet away from them. But luckily Joe isn’t a murderer and would never think of doing a thing like that. Sure, he’s concealing a slingshot, throwing stars, and a small handgun in his jacket, but he can’t imagine he’d ever have to use them. He’s a really good, peaceful, nonviolent guy, after all.

Mehr…

Alle 37 Einreichungen könnt ihr hier bei Vulture anschauen.

via: @sncfxtn | Grafik: Richard A Chance

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