Shameless as the Template for My Potential Series
I first started watching Shameless when I was halfway through the final semester of my undergraduate degree in Screenwriting and struggling to write the pilot episode of my own television series, a serialized family dramedy (drama/comedy) called Mother May I. I had my plot down pat, my characters in order, and my A and B stories clearly laid out—but still, I couldn’t manage to shake the feeling of stagnancy in my writing because it seemed that I was following the same story tropes as every other wannabe Hollywood writer: character has family problems, character falls in love, character rejects love interest, character runs back to love interest, blah, blah, barf. At the end of the first full draft of my pilot, I was left wondering how, if this series were to be picked up, I would force myself into writing the remaining 11 episodes of the first season—let alone an entire series. Obviously, as an aspiring writer, this was not a mindset that I wanted to have. So, in an attempt to inspire myself into revising and finishing my task, I turned to the pilot episodes of what I consider to be the “greats” of serialized television: Breaking Bad and Grey’s Anatomy. But, as brilliant as both of those shows are, I realized that I could only rely on them insofar as structure, as their franchises are completely different than the vision of my own series. I thought to myself, “In Mother May I, I want to achieve the warmth of Parenthood mixed with… something else.” Then, I turned to Netflix’s “Recently Added” category in search of what that “something” was—and that’s when I found it, the gem of everything I have ever watched and my inspiration for moving forward with my own television series: Shameless.
From the moment I pressed play on the first episode, I was hooked—though I will admit more than a little bit overwhelmed. Shameless is an American television series about the six children of an alcoholic and neglectful father named Frank Gallagher. Note how I distinguish that the series is more about Frank’s children than Frank himself. Rather than make Frank the protagonist of the series, the show’s creator Paul Abott establishes him as the main characters’ central source of conflict, both externally and internally. Though the series’ action is constantly surrounding Frank and/or something that he did or didn’t do, more than anyone else, he is the antagonist in Shameless. In many cases, Frank also becomes his own worst enemy, which only contributes to his role as a surging vortex of doom in the series.
With the pilot episode, Abbott establishes the complicated relationship between Frank and his children in a beautiful and economic way. The series opens with a voiceover from Frank over the image of what appears to be a community bonfire. Frank describes each of his children, saying that he is proud of them “ ‘cause every single one of them reminds [him] a little bit of [himself].” This works well for three reasons: First, it establishes Frank’s deluded perception of his role in his children’s lives, and second, it introduces the template for the series’ structure in which every episode surrounds another one of Frank’s crazy antics. Third, this introduction works because it leads viewers to believe that Frank is a father who is genuinely invested in the lives of his children, which clearly is not the case. Frank starts by introducing his six children in descending order: Fiona, Lip, Ian, Carl, Debbie, and Liam. For each child, the script features a description of their true talent—i.e. intelligent, driven, etc—and a camera shot of them doing what they do “best”—child-minding, stealing, drinking, out-running the cops, etc.
After he introduces his six children, Frank introduces himself as “Frank Gallagher, father, teacher, mentor. Captain of [their] ship” and claims that his children have him to thank for their good fortunes in life. However, the next scene cuts directly to Fiona, Frank’s eldest child and the ultimate protagonist of the series, who viewers will come to learn is the true “captain” of the Gallagher ship. The cut from Frank’s speech to Fiona’s daily routine on page three is a great example of revealing irony by “showing it in the cut,” and it comes at a crucial moment in the script when viewers are first invited into the complicated lives of Frank’s six children, whose ultimate goal in life has become to survive in the absence of their mother and father.
As Fiona moves through the house waking up her brothers and sister for school, we get to see what it’s truly like to be a Gallagher, and it’s not as glamorous as Frank makes it sound. Perhaps one of the most economical reveals in the pilot episode occurs on page four when viewers learn that each child who is deemed “old enough” has to contribute to paying the bills. Fiona passes a box around the breakfast table in which each sibling coughs up a portion of their earnings for the week. Of course, this comes after Fiona has to water down the milk for their morning cereal.
The introduction of the main characters in Shameless was the first aspect of the series to truly catch my “writer’s eye.” While writing the first draft of Mother May I, I struggled to convey the many different sides to my characters as well as the complicated relationships between them. While watching the pilot episode of Shameless, I noted that Abbott managed to start unravelling the extremely complicated lives of his characters in as little as four pages or approximately five minutes into episode one. Furthermore, most of the exposition in the first few scenes is revealed via imagery, which saves space on the page and feels natural to the characters’ story. Rather than explain the exact reasons for his characters’ lack of funds, Abbott hooks his viewers in with the fact that a group of children are responsible for paying their ways through life. At the end of page four, I felt that I had a clear idea of who the main characters were and what they were up against in life. My only question was, Where’s Frank?
Part of the reason I chose to study Shameless as a template for my potential series is because it is truly unique in comparison to any other television show I have watched. Before its release on Netflix, the show aired for seven years on the popular cable network Showtime that is notorious for its nude scenes and foul language (both of which make for a more entertaining show in my opinion). As such, Shameless is chock full of “inappropriate” subject matter, which gives the series somewhat of an edge in terms of its content. From a subjective point of view, I am attracted to the characters because their circumstances have made it so that they are rough around the edges while still being smart, resourceful, and downright hilarious.
Though the characters in the series are constantly swearing and fighting with each other, there is an unbreakable bond between them, and it seems an unspoken rule that those who are clean and sober will never abandon each other. Take the following conversation between V (Veronica) and Kev (Kevin), for example. They are the Gallaghers’ neighbours—though they operate more as extended family. In the screenshot on the left, a pointless argument has been sparked by Kevin’s jealousy over a man V had met at a night club. On the same page, however, the argument is resolved and the two are back to making flirty comments at one another. This is another interesting trait that Abbott has worked into his characters—the ability to bounce back from virtually any problem they encounter.
Another thing I appreciate about this scene is that it foreshadows to events in episodes further along in season one. For example, it is later revealed that Kevin cannot read, which accounts for how offended he gets when V calls him a “dumb prick” for questioning her about another man. This is only one example of how the show’s creators weave small details into the story so that they can revisit them in later episodes. Below, I have included another example in which Fiona’s love interest, Steve, hints at his medical background, which is unknown to Fiona until the second season.
As I mentioned earlier in this essay, I am in the final semester of my undergraduate degree in writing, and after spending the past four years studying and mimicking classic filmmaking techniques, I have grown tired of classic story tropes; however, right now, I feel that they are the only thing I confidently know how to write. Alongside noticing cliché messages, images, allusions, and bits of dialogue in my own work, I have started to become increasingly aware of their presence in other people’s work, and particularly in television shows such as Riverdale that promise to deliver “new” content. Though Shameless deals with popular subject matter in terms of family relationships and addictions problems, the series’ writers often flip the viewers’ expectations on their head. One example occurs when Fiona meets and hooks up with her love interest Steve in the pilot episode. The two characters are from opposite backgrounds, Steve having grown up in a wealthy family of doctors and Fiona having “slummed” it for most of her life. While Steve is more prone to seeking adventure as he sits on a big pile of daddy’s cash, Fiona has been forced to make her own way for her entire life, and as such, their perceived gender roles are often switched, which later becomes a recurring joke in the series. In fact, when the two first get together, there is a hilarious scene in which Steve persistently attempts to seduce Fiona despite her constant attempts to keep him out of her chaos. As you can see by reading the following screenshot, Fiona takes on a role that would normally belong to a bumbling man while Steve persuades her to consider letting him into her life using his body. A similar expectation is flipped on its head when it comes out that Frank’s son Ian is gay despite his being extremely masculine. It is my opinion that Shameless is able to explore authentic character relationships without relying on social stereotypes. This is initially what made the series’ content “fresh” in my eyes.
Of the many lessons Shameless has taught me about writing my own pilot episode, the most important is to think outside of the box. For example, the first time I read the Shameless pilot script, I found it difficult not to become distracted by the script’s heavily detailed action (see examples below); however, during my second read-through, I realized that Abbott’s seemingly over-the-top details reveal character information that is crucial for the actors and directors to know in order to understand and consequently shoot the complicated characters in this piece. If Abbot’s descriptions were more sparse, perhaps his script would make less sense and it would not have become the success that it is today. For example, the following scene is the first time that Steve and Fiona have sex. This is also the first time that we see Fiona with a man and learn that she is sexually confident. Sexuality and using sex as a distraction method is a repeated theme in this series.
Another way that the writers of Shameless think outside of the box is through imagery. For example, at the end of the first episode and through his absence, viewers come to see Frank for who he truly is: an alcohol and drug addicted deadbeat. Abbott depicts this with a beautiful image: an unconscious Frank lying in the middle of his family home as chaos ensues around him. This dichotomy of Frank being present yet completely neglectful of his children is no doubt the most heart-breaking aspect of the series—yet it accounts for much of its beauty as well. At its heart, Shameless seems to be about children’s undying love for their parents, a PG concept magnified by the true R-rated nature of our world. In the revised pilot episode of Mother May I, I hope to elevate my concepts to the same level as Paul Abbott does in Shameless (though perhaps I’ll skip out on some of the nudity).
