Behind The Scenes: Couch Cases

Here we are, at the start of production in this adventurous journey. Couch Cases is coming alive before our eyes, and it’s a beautiful sight. I think it’s important to remember how things began, so I’m writing what I remember about the birth of Couch Cases. Here’s how I remember it:

Back in April 2007, Kathi and I were sitting at Mo’s in Toluca Lake. We’d had a nice burger dinner and were kicking back with a couple of beers, very casual. I had a Corona, not a Corona Light. I remember that.  She had a Foster’s, I think.

I don’t think it was the beer that gave me confidence that night. Maybe it was that Mo’s feels so safe and dark. Or, most likely, it was some combination of these things, plus me trying to impress a smart and pretty girl, that got my lips moving that night.

When Kathi asked me if I had any ideas for a new show since I’d finished Deliverance By The Slice, I blurted out, “Why, yes I do!” and proceeded to tell her all about what would come to be Couch Cases. I listened to myself say what my new show was about, how it’d work, how I planned on shooting it. I have to say, I thought my idea was pretty good, especially for something that I was making up on the spot.

Kathi listened to my spiel and smiled. She was into the idea of this project, I think mostly because it was a comedy, which she loves, and I thought we could have episodes like a TV show rather than a film. Hmm, a sitcom. Perfect. I knew my audience.

Then my world collapsed. She told me she didn’t like my main character. That he should be a she, and that she should be a therapist, not a lawyer. No one wants to watch a comedy about an ambulance chaser!  

Sensing defeat, I ordered another beer.

But as we talked, I saw something–maybe this gal had a point or three. And most importantly, she had immediately taken my ideas and made them way better. A couple of weeks later, we went to The Writer’s Store in LA. I had to buy a replacement copy of Final Draft, and she wanted to talk about the show again.

I remember paying for my copy of Final Draft, and her saying something about wanting to learn how to use it. Granted, she’s a writer by profession, but a technical writer who’s more into Adobe products and Microsoft Word. But she wanted to learn, so she pushed half the price of the software into my hands, and installed it on her laptop right there in the parking lot.

She was a bit pushy, and I remember thinking to myself ‘What the heck does she think she’s doing? I’ve been writing and making films for 3 years, and she thinks she can just waltz in and do it, too?’. 

Then a week or so later, we met at the CPK in Studio City for lunch. She had things to show me, based on talks we’d had about our show. Our show. Even then, it was clear this was to be a partnership. And so we sat at CPK. She showed me some basic outlines she’d worked on. One of which eventually became the skeleton for episode 4 “My Stars”.

I could not let this happen. After all, I was the filmmaker. I’d been writing all this time. I could not let this admittedly adorable and obviously extremely talented girl upstage me. So I went home and fired up Final Draft with a vengeance and banged out the pilot in under an hour. 

I showed it to her, and she was impressed. I even got a few laughs–let me tell you, she’s a tough audience. There. I had proven myself. I was on my game. 

She came back with notes almost immediately, and at that point, it was clear this wasn’t going to go away. We had ourselves a new show. And it was good. I’d written with other people before, but never with someone who challenged me this much. I liked it.

Together, we banged out the next three episodes and edited each other’s work. We spent a lot of evenings together working on story concepts and fine tuning each episode. In fact, I think I spent more time in re-write on this project than any project I’ve ever done. That’s a good thing, I learned. Comedy is not easy. The writing is very deliberate–the rhythm and timing and working with triplets is all very methodical. One false move and you’re dead. Use a comma in the wrong place and you can ruin a joke. But enough about the writing.

Now we continue on our journey into the land of production, where we get to make this thing come alive. I hope in the end, when the world gets to see the fruits of our labor, you will laugh and cry and maybe jump up and down or fall out of your chair, whatever floats your boat. Just react. Enjoy. Kick back with a cold beer. Find your confidence and get your lips moving. Tell your friends.

–Patrick Ortman (Co-Creator and Director)

P.S. For those of you wondering, Kathi did come in a do a re-write of this story, too. I wouldn’t have expected anything less!