Pitch Season: Presidential Edition
by Elizabeth Solar
Pitch: A concise presentation of an idea for a film or TV series by a screenwriter or film director to a producer or studio executive with the goal of getting said idea financed. A contraction of the phrase ‘sales pitch.’
It’s the most wonderful time of the year. No, it’s not that time when spirits are made bright. Or the old back-to school-commercial where a parent gleefully glides a shopping cart through the aisles at Staples, whilst their children look on, forlorn and defeated.
No, we’re talking pitch season in Hollywood, or wherever films and TV shows are getting produced. Traditionally between late summer through December, producers, writers, and other media types submit ideas for TV pilots, in hopes of seeing the proposal on the page transformed into a series, hopefully a long-running one.
Likewise, political types from Boise to the Beltway launch their aspirations for a long-running series as well. It’s something we like to call the presidential election. It’s pitch season has been in full swing – at least on one side of the political aisle – since early in the year. On the other side of the aisle, the administration has offered one continuous pitch. It’s been a long season, my friends.
In the film, as well as the literary world, stories are sold by the writer’s ability to reveal a truth that feels both personal, and universal. In publishing, the writer submits a logline, a one or two-sentence summary that states the premise and provides emotional insight into a story. If an agent likes your logline, they may ask for a few chapters, or even your entire manuscript. If the story fulfills the promise of your pitch, you may land yourself a publishing deal.
Attention spans are short, about 9 seconds top for most of us. You still with me? So short, we have to be able to explain what our story in less than 30 seconds, the time of a typical elevator ride. Hence, the cleverly named ‘elevator pitch.’ Comprised of fewer than 50 words, but ideally 25, the elevator pitch summarizes why your novel is unique, compelling, fresh and timely. Conciseness emphasizes what makes your story so appealing to a particular market. Your pitch should intrigue someone to ask for more.
Here are some noteworthy pitches, both literary, and cinematic.
A successful divorcee starts an affair with a married man – her ex-husband – just as she’s starting to date again. – It’s Complicated
Two imprisoned men bond over a number of years, finding solace and eventual redemption through acts of common decency. – The Shawshank Redemption
The picture-perfect Richardson family is upended by an enigmatic mother and daughter in a story that explores the weight of secrets, the nature of art and identity, the ferocious pull of motherhood - and the danger in believing that following the rules can avert disaster. – Little Fires Everywhere
So too , do politicians construct a brief pitch, mission statement, or slogan to attract potential voter’s to their camps. This year’s primary candidates will attempt to tap into a storyline that connects to the voter, something that invites further exploration. The essence of a campaign is distilled through a pithy slogan, usually constructed of four or five words. A political slogan can evolve – or devolve – from an internal reminder to address the plight of working people. Hence Bill Clinton’s 1992 de facto slogan, “It’s the economy, stupid.” In another campaign, an effort to remember to mention immigration reform morphed into a chant, or rant: “Build the wall.”
In both cases, each candidate broadened their story to capture hearts and minds. Clinton assured the country he ‘felt our pain.’ He related a childhood fraught with poverty and struggle, his aspirations and work ethic to attain educational, social and economic success. He connected his opponent’s lack of economic and political leadership for the country’s lack of growth and opportunity. Our current president’s use of wall imagery has stoked suspicion of ‘the other,’ and created real barriers among racial, political and ideological groups.
We vote not by reason but by emotion, with fear being a most potent motivator. Activate our reptilian amygdala and behold the reliable ignition of our fight or flight response. Problem is, our primitive response is often overkill in situations in which a wooly mammoth is not chasing us. Our current situation might remind one of these words from Franklin D. Roosevelt’s first inaugural address: “Only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”
As we approach another election season, what stories will presidential hopefuls tell? How will they connect to, and unify a people divided, exhausted and alienated from each other? In the summer debates, I was disheartened by the media hunger for a candidate ‘having a moment,’ orchestrated conflicts more keeping with an episode of ‘Survivor.’ Candidates pointed hair-splitting of minutia, rather than an embrace of their consensus of ideology.
As we prepare for another round of Democratic primary debates, I’m find myself in the skeptically hopeful camp. I want to believe candidates will be relatable storytellers who prepare well. As with all good pitches, provide substance, integrity, and heart. Show us you realize, and share the high stakes involved, and give us genuine reason to deserve at least a four-year run. Tell us why you’re the one to help us form a more perfect union. Give me a reason to make me think you are better than me, in the best of ways. If you can be funny once in a while, even better. We could use a laugh.
Remember our tiny nine-second attention spans. Give us a reason to want to hear more. If you can do that, you’ll most likely win the gig.
So, pitch us. Pitch us hard.
