Wilmer Valderrama is best
known for his work as Fez on That 70s
Show, but he’s also had considerable success in animation.
A few years ago, my agent
called with an intriguing opportunity.
In light of Wilmer’s hit
animated series Handy Manny, Disney
wanted to develop another show with Valderrama, and he was looking for family
writers to come up with ideas. My agent
suggested I get on the phone with Wilmer and his producer and pitch a few
concepts.
I was pretty nervous. I’d never pitched to anyone famous
before. And this guy was a veteran of
one of Fox’s longest running sitcoms.
I figured I’d have to be
hilarious to get his attention.
I planned several “can’t-miss”
jokes for early in the pitch, and soon after the phone call began, I hit the
punch lines hard.
Bad choice.
The response to my
hilarious gags was cricket-esque. After
the second zinger clunked to pure silence, I actually asked: Can you guys hear
me? I was the desperate comedian tapping
his mike and asking, is this thing on?
It turns out Wilmer is a
pretty serious business-focused guy; at least that’s how he was on the phone
with me. He seemed less interested in my
supposed hilarity and more interested in the big picture.
So I moved on from my
ill-fated laugh-fest and pitched two ideas I had prepared in depth and was
pretty damn proud of.
Wilmer said little about
either idea and then asked if I had any others, preferably something with a
Latin-American element. Neither my agent
nor my manager had prepped me for this request, and I hadn’t foreseen it
myself.
More than a bit thrown, I
pitched a third idea – a makeshift concept I hadn’t really prepared for – but I
didn’t want to give up.
Well, actually, based on
how this was going, I did want to give up. But hey, if we writers want to be treated
like pros, we have to act like pros. And
professionals do their best job, even on a bad day, right?
So I did what I
could. And that was it. Unceremoniously, the pitch was over. Here are three lessons I learned from the
experience:
One
You can’t plan for
everything that will happen. Do your
homework, yes. Know who you’re talking
to, yes. But also be ready to switch
gears mid-pitch.
Two
It’s best not to “sell” a
joke. Don’t raise your voice or your
tone to emphasize the sidesplitting thing you think you’re about to say. I’ve
gotten the most laughs from producers by simply describing a situation that
suggests funny things will happen. If
you’re a born stand-up comedian, then do what works for you. But if you’re like most writers (funniest on
the page), then this advice should help you.
Play the pitch straight. If the
material has potential for humor, it’ll come across.
And Three
Never give up on a
pitch. I was surprised to hear from my
agent that Wilmer did take one of my ideas to Disney – that third idea I threw
in to keep the conversation going.
Disney ultimately passed
on the concept, but I gave myself a chance by not folding when my jokes bombed
and my meeting-prep faltered.
It can be nerve-racking as
hell, but don’t let your energy level fall.
Keep talking, even when you’re crashing and burning, because the next
idea might be a winner.
