Just thinking back on the first episode of what I believe is the Finest Television Show Ever Made - Deadwood. Sorry The Wire fans. If you haven't seen it, go away now, watch the all-too-limited three seasons, finish every episode by saying "how amazing is this?" and then feel bad about your own writing.
Done? Great. Welcome back. Bet you're glad you took those days off work to watch the FTSEM. Now you know I'm right we can crack on.
Because out of the many things Deadwood does extremely well, I just want to look today at a couple of the character introductions in the very first episode, written by David Milch. (NB I am going off the pilot screenplay dated 20th August 2002; there are some differences between this and what was eventually filmed).
Typical of a show that explores the murky swamps of morality, its very first scene introduces the sheriff Seth Bullock preparing to hang somebody. And he's the good guy.
Bullock faces off against a drunken gang of would-be lynchers and insists on carrying out the condemned man's sentence himself. All the while, his more level-headed best friend and business partner Sol Star tries to convince him to leave, reminding him of the riches that await them in Deadwood. It brilliantly set ups Bullock's key characteristics -- his stubbornness, his reverence for the law and his quick temper. More importantly, it reveals this character through immediate action.
That is the key lesson to be taken I think. Again and again Milch introduces us to his characters in the middle of active situations which allow those characters' characteristics and contradictions to be revealed to the audience dramatically and grippingly.
We see it again in the introduction of Calamity Jane. From her first line we are told, as if we needed reminding, that this is not the Calamity of the famous musical:
Once again it is an active situation that introduces and reveals her character. Their wagon train has ground to a halt on the outskirts of Deadwood and Jane is frustrated. She's dressed like a man and swears like a trooper. She's prickly, belligerent and defensive, especially with her old friend Charlie Utter.
But then the script does something really clever. Straight away, it shows us a completely different side to Jane. Indeed, almost the complete opposite of the character we have just met.
After an expletive-laden antagonistic exchange with Utter she pops her head into the back of their wagon and explains the delay to the passenger lying there -- the legendary Wild Bill Hickok. Jane is in love with this man. It is unrequited of course. Hell, she doesn't even know what to say or how to act. She is meek, servile even, incongruously shy. She still swears of course -- she is still Jane -- but this is a completely different side to her character.
To reinforce the contrast, as soon as Jane moves away from Bill she is back to her old self--
Milch's introduction to this important character is simply brilliant. Having just met a Jane who is in many way an hilarious sweary boozy delight, he immediately adds another dimension to a character which otherwise might seem a little one-note. The interaction with Wild Bill shows us the vulnerable person beneath this aggressive mask and implies a whole history between them that we have not seen. Straight from the off we know we are not dealing with simple characters, but ones with depth and contradiction.
This is a useful technique we can use in our own writing - establishing the character a certain way in one aspect of their life such as their work, and then showing the character as quite the opposite in, say, their love life, or their family life. It is something Kubrick did in the script for the unmade Napoleon. There the great general's military acumen and successes are set against his utter failure as a lover, where he is outwitted and cuckolded by another.
But what sets Milch apart is the economy and grace with which these dimensions are explored in the very same scenes as the characters themselves are introduced.
If you haven't guessed it, I'm a fan.

Because out of the many things Deadwood does extremely well, I just want to look today at a couple of the character introductions in the very first episode, written by David Milch. (NB I am going off the pilot screenplay dated 20th August 2002; there are some differences between this and what was eventually filmed).
Typical of a show that explores the murky swamps of morality, its very first scene introduces the sheriff Seth Bullock preparing to hang somebody. And he's the good guy.
Bullock faces off against a drunken gang of would-be lynchers and insists on carrying out the condemned man's sentence himself. All the while, his more level-headed best friend and business partner Sol Star tries to convince him to leave, reminding him of the riches that await them in Deadwood. It brilliantly set ups Bullock's key characteristics -- his stubbornness, his reverence for the law and his quick temper. More importantly, it reveals this character through immediate action.
That is the key lesson to be taken I think. Again and again Milch introduces us to his characters in the middle of active situations which allow those characters' characteristics and contradictions to be revealed to the audience dramatically and grippingly.
We see it again in the introduction of Calamity Jane. From her first line we are told, as if we needed reminding, that this is not the Calamity of the famous musical:
CALAMITY JANE (O.S.)
What a fucking circus!
Once again it is an active situation that introduces and reveals her character. Their wagon train has ground to a halt on the outskirts of Deadwood and Jane is frustrated. She's dressed like a man and swears like a trooper. She's prickly, belligerent and defensive, especially with her old friend Charlie Utter.
But then the script does something really clever. Straight away, it shows us a completely different side to Jane. Indeed, almost the complete opposite of the character we have just met.
After an expletive-laden antagonistic exchange with Utter she pops her head into the back of their wagon and explains the delay to the passenger lying there -- the legendary Wild Bill Hickok. Jane is in love with this man. It is unrequited of course. Hell, she doesn't even know what to say or how to act. She is meek, servile even, incongruously shy. She still swears of course -- she is still Jane -- but this is a completely different side to her character.
To reinforce the contrast, as soon as Jane moves away from Bill she is back to her old self--
CALAMITY JANE
It's only fucking Wild Bill Hickok you got stalled here in the muck, you ignorant fucking cunts.
Milch's introduction to this important character is simply brilliant. Having just met a Jane who is in many way an hilarious sweary boozy delight, he immediately adds another dimension to a character which otherwise might seem a little one-note. The interaction with Wild Bill shows us the vulnerable person beneath this aggressive mask and implies a whole history between them that we have not seen. Straight from the off we know we are not dealing with simple characters, but ones with depth and contradiction.
This is a useful technique we can use in our own writing - establishing the character a certain way in one aspect of their life such as their work, and then showing the character as quite the opposite in, say, their love life, or their family life. It is something Kubrick did in the script for the unmade Napoleon. There the great general's military acumen and successes are set against his utter failure as a lover, where he is outwitted and cuckolded by another.
But what sets Milch apart is the economy and grace with which these dimensions are explored in the very same scenes as the characters themselves are introduced.
If you haven't guessed it, I'm a fan.
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