OK let's unpack this. We are embarking on an
intensive deep dive into the world of Dan Harmon
complex brilliant often controversial. Absolutely.
A writer producer comedian. I mean he's really
shaped a lot of television over the last couple
of decades. Especially with meta comedy, you
know, giving us these genre bending classics
like Community and, of course, the absolute phenomenon
that is Rick and Morty. Right. And we've got
a great stack of sources here. They really trace
his whole journey, you know, from his early days
in Chicago, sketch comedy. Midwest roots. Yeah.
All the way up to his current, well, animation
empire, really. But the real nugget here, the
thing we really want to dig into for you is the
technique he uses. This specific method for building
pretty much every story he tells. Exactly. So
our mission today isn't just like a biography.
We need to get under the hood, dissect the engineering
that makes his stories tick. And that's this
specific, quite rigid eight step writing framework.
It's almost like a storytelling cheat code he
developed. Yeah, the story circle. That's what
it's called. So for you listening, the idea is
to go beyond just, you know. enjoying the surface
chaos of his shows. Right, zaniness. And understand
the actual structure that holds it all together.
We're going to explore how this almost compulsive
drive for structural symmetry. Using his story
circle. How that became the bedrock for these
global hits, these really culturally relevant
shows. It really is a fascinating paradox, isn't
it? This sort of controlled explosion of creativity.
Okay, so where do we start? Let's like the fuse.
Well, Daniel James Harmon. Born January 3rd,
1973 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Grew up there,
soaked in that kind of distinct Midwestern humor.
Brown Deer High School, then Marquette University
for a bit. Right. Those are the early years.
But maybe the single most creatively significant
biographical stop actually came later and way
further west. Oh, you're talking about Glendale
Community College. In California. Exactly. Which
is just one of those perfect examples, isn't
it? A writer taking something totally mundane
from their own life. Yeah. A brief stint at community
college. And turning it directly into the premise,
the actual setting for community. Six seasons,
critically acclaimed, all from that one experience.
Absolutely. And if you look at the period before
that, say 1996 through 2008, you can really see
him laying the groundwork for his. Counterculture
style. He was really involved in the improv and
sketch scene back in Milwaukee, right? Deeply
embedded. He was a member of Comedy Sports, and
that's where he really teamed up with Rob Schrab,
his longtime collaborator. And they were in that
sketch troupe, the Dead Alewives. That's them.
They even put out an album in 96, Take Down the
Grandmaster. Really codified their style. We
probably need to pause here, though, and talk
about the kind of comedy he was doing, the tone
he set early on. Oh, yeah. Definitely boundary
pushing. Our sources point specifically to this
one routine he did back at Milwaukee's safe house
free comedy stage. It was. Well, it was a song.
A very memorable song about masturbation. Yeah.
Quite graphic. Right. And you can see even then
he was establishing this thing where his comedy
wouldn't shy away from the super personal, the
awkward, the self -loathing. That kind of cringe
humor. It really sets the stage, doesn't it?
Yeah. For the kind of painful self -awareness
you see later in characters like Jeff Winger
or even Rick Sanchez. Yeah. That vulnerability
mixed with sharpness. Exactly. But what's interesting
is while that early stuff was maybe chaotic and
pushing boundaries. His professional focus pretty
quickly seemed to shift towards like controlling
that chaos, putting structure around it. Which
brings us to Channel 101. Right. The real collaborative
launchpad. He co -founded that with. Rob Schrab.
And Channel 101, it wasn't just a website, was
it? It was more like an alternative TV network,
a proving ground. Yeah, exactly. Writers, directors,
they had to create these short pilots. Yeah.
Like five minutes long every month. And the audience
voted. Yeah. If they liked it, you got to make
another episode next month. If not, canceled
immediately. Wow. Talk about pressure. That's
like merciless, structured, short form storytelling
boot camp. It absolutely was. A crucible for
structure, like you said. And it actually birthed
some real cult hits. Like Heat Vision and Jack.
That pilot. That's the most famous one, yeah.
Starring Jack Black and Owen Wilson. Huge cult
following. Incredible. And Harmon was also involved
in other stuff there, like the web series Yacht
Rock. He actually acted in that one. He did,
did. What was he? He played this highly fictionalized
version of the music producer Ted Templeman.
You know, talking about soft rock history, the
Doobie Brothers. Okay, that's amazing. But you
can see how that hyper -specific, disciplined
approach at Channel 101. It really paved the
way for more mainstream stuff. Right, because
then he co -created and was head writer for the
Sarah Silverman program on Comedy Central for
a while. Yeah, started flexing those muscles
in TV. And features, too. He co -wrote the screenplay
for Monster House. Which got nominated for an
Oscar, right? For animation. It did. And the
film work continued in some surprising places.
He's actually credited with writing part of Rob
Schrab's comic book series, Scud, The Disposable
Assassin. Really? The comic book? Yeah, and in
the spinoff, Lacosa Nostroid. And then kind of
showing his utility in the studio system, he
did uncredited work on big movies. Like Kung
Fu Panda. In 2008. Exactly. So these early years,
they're not just, you know, a list of jobs. They
show someone mastering different fields, improv,
sketch, web series, animation structure. And
then applying those structural lessons to whatever
came next, even if it seemed totally different.
Precisely. That incredible versatility, that
structural focus, it leads directly into the
community years. Which is really where his, let's
say, personal and professional conflicts came
right out into the open. The high price of being
the author, the showrunner. Yeah. Community launched
in 2009 on NBC. Harmon was the showrunner, executive
producer for those first three seasons. And he
was just pouring everything into it. The show
was already meta just by its premise, right?
His own experience. But he layered on top of
that just incredible structural complexity, pop
culture references, self -awareness. It was dense.
Very dense. Yeah. And while it was a critical
darling, you know, this phenomenon of intricate
comedy, it was apparently notoriously difficult
to make. You hear stories. Harmon's process.
Sounds like it was intense. Very hands -on. Obsessive,
maybe? And often combative. Especially with network
notes, executive oversight. He fought for his
vision. And that conflict, well, it boiled over
very publicly, May 2012. Yep. Harmon gets abruptly
fired from his own show. Yep. The official reason
given was creative conflicts with Sony executives.
And for the fans, I mean, the community fan base
was and is incredibly devoted. That felt like
it. The darkest timeline had arrived for you.
It was a huge rupture. Yep. Professionally, personally.
But what's fascinating is how the narrative that
followed kind of mirrored the structures he loves.
How so? Well, the audience, the community around
the show, they rallied. Yeah. Fiercely. Season
four without him. It just didn't feel right.
His absence was obvious. Oh, people noticed.
Definitely. And then June 2013, he officially
confirms he's coming back. Co -show running season
five with Chris McKenna. It was like the darkest
timeline averted. The brightest timeline restored.
The hero returns. But even with him back and
the critics liking it again. NBC still canceled
it after season five. Right. But then this is
where the changing media landscape kicks in,
that fan devotion. It translated into this unusual
streaming revival. Yahoo. Screen, of all places.
Yeah, remember Yahoo? Screen. They picked it
up for a 13 -episode sixth season in 2014. It
was one of the early, really powerful examples
of a fan community basically willing a show back
into existence. Six seasons and a movie. That
became the rallying cry. And that legacy, that
phrase, it still fuels hope. Our sources actually
confirm a 2024 update that the script for the
long, long promised community movie is apparently
ready. Wow. So the project is actually in the
works for real this time. Seems like it. The
script exists. Things are moving. OK, but let's
rewind a bit. Back to that crucial time right
after he got fired in 2012. His professional
life is in chaos. Right. And he transitions into
something really interesting. Part therapy, part
performance art, part another structural experiment.
The podcast Harmontown. Which had started before,
hadn't it? Monthly? Yeah, it started back in
May 2011. Just monthly. But the moment he got
fired from community, boom. He ramps it up. Weekly.
Cathartic. Public. With Jeff B. Davis co -hosting.
It became this sort of public forum for him to
work through his stuff, his anxieties, his creative
ideas. Exactly. And what's really crucial about
Harmontown, especially for his later work, is
how it cemented the influence of Dungeons & Dragons.
Ah, the RPG segment. Yeah. Every show had this
long, extended segment where they played pen
and paper role playing games, started with D
&D, then they switched to Shadowrun. With Spencer
Crittenden as the game master. Right. And this
wasn't just like a fun diversion. It became a
core structural element of the podcast itself.
It gave it a framework, right, for all the spontaneous
talk and chaos. A necessary, rigid framework
for spontaneous storytelling. And it got so popular
that segment directly inspired the animated series
Harmon Quest. And there's a documentary, too,
wasn't there? Also called Harmontown. Yeah, that
followed their tour in early 2013. Premiered
at South by Southwest in 2014. The podcast itself
eventually ended in December 2019. But for that
period after the firing, it was his lifeline.
A place to channel the chaos into something structured,
something entertaining. Okay. This brings us
right to it. The core takeaway. The mechanism,
the engine that lets all that turbulence, biographical,
creative resolve into stories that actually work.
Yes. The story circle. Yes. This is the blueprint,
the thing you really need to understand about
how he operates. So where did it come from? It's
a really elegant piece of structural thinking.
Harmon developed it back in the late 90s. He
said he was struggling with a screenplay. And
he recognized that a lot of the writers and directors
he worked with, especially maybe at Channel 101
later. they struggled with traditional narrative
frameworks. You know, they can feel kind of sprawling,
intimidating. Like the hero's journey stuff,
Camel. Exactly. So he wanted to find a simpler,
more symmetrical way to codify that underlying
structure. Yeah. The thing that powers all great
stories, basically. So he took Joseph Campbell's
hero's journey, which is, you know, deep and
mythological, but maybe not super practical if
you're staring at a deadline. Right. It can feel
overwhelming. And he simplified it, distilled
it down. Into this accessible eight step. circular
process designed to reliably crank out coherent
narratives. Especially useful, he thought, for
his Channel 101 collaborators who needed practical
plotting tools fast. He said it was like tattooed
on his brain, right? Because it applies to everything.
Yeah, it's universality. Any character, any story,
short sketch, feature film, TV episode, you can
map it onto the circle. Let's walk through the
steps. Imagine it like a clock face starting
at the top, 12 o 'clock. Okay. Step one. A character
is in a zone of comfort or familiarity. This
is just the starting point. The status quo. Their
normal world. Got it. Baseline established. Step
two. They desire something. There's a need, an
itch, something they want internally or externally.
And crucially, this desire upsets the balance
of step one. It creates the impulse to move.
Makes sense. Step three. They enter an unfamiliar
situation. This is crossing the threshold, leaving
the known world, going into the unknown. Sometimes
it's literal, like jumping through a portal in
Rick and Morty. Or it could be metaphorical,
like joining a study group with strangers and
community. Exactly. Unfamiliar territory. Step
four, they adapt to that situation. They have
to learn the rules of this new world, survive
the initial challenges, overcome hurdles. This
is often where the character confronts their
flaws or maybe learns new skills. Okay, adapting.
Then step five. They get that which they wanted.
They achieve the goal they set out for back in
step two. This is often like the midpoint climax
of the central achievement, a temporary high
maybe. Success, but then step six. They pay a
heavy price for it. Ah, yes, the consequence.
This is often the real climax or the darkest
point. The true cost of the journey is revealed.
Moral compromises, painful realizations, actual
losses. Okay, step seven. The return to their
familiar situation. The journey back home. Bringing
the prize or the knowledge or maybe just the
scars from the ordeal. And finally, step eight.
They have changed as a result of the journey.
The circle completes. A new status quo is established,
but the character isn't quite the same person
they were back in step one. They've learned something,
grown, or maybe just been permanently altered.
Okay, listing the steps is helpful, but let's
see it in action. Because just knowing the steps
isn't the same as seeing how he uses it. Like,
take that famous community episode, Remedial
Chaos Theory. Oh, perfect example. The one with
the dice roll creating seven different timelines.
Yeah. How does the circle apply there, like,
instantly? Okay, so step one. The comfort zone
is just the gang hanging out in the apartment.
Simple gathering. Right. Step two, the desire.
Someone needs to go get the pizza downstairs.
Simple goal. Then step three, entering the unfamiliar.
Whichever character the dice chooses leaves the
room. They enter the unfamiliar situation of
the hallway or just being separated, initiating
that timeline's unique chain of events. Okay.
Step four, adapting. They adapt to whatever chaos
unfolds in the room while they're gone or deal
with what happens in the hallway. Step five.
They get what they wanted. They grab the pizza.
Got it. Step six. The heavy price. That's the
timeline collapsing or descending into the darkest
timeline where everything goes wrong. Pierce
gets shot. Troy loses his larynx. Right. The
bad stuff. Step seven. Return. They come back
into the room, returning to the familiar situation.
And step eight. The change. Well, in that episode,
it's often Abed realizing the implications or
the group collectively understanding the potential
for that darkest timeline, right? Right. the
core group is usually reset for the next role.
Exactly. It's contained. The change allows them
to maybe avoid the worst outcome next time, but
the fundamental group dynamic is preserved. It's
micro -level application over and over. And he's
talked about the deeper meaning behind this,
right? Not just the mechanics, but the why, especially
around entering the unfamiliar part. Oh, yeah.
He gets quite philosophical. He specifically
references Campbell again when talking about
steps three and four, entering that unfamiliar
situation. And what does Campbell call it? Campbell
evokes the image of the hero entering a digestive
tract, the underworld, the belly of the whale.
Where the hero is broken down, stripped of their
everyday tools and defenses, their neuroses,
their fears, their modern comforts, like, you
know, asthma inhalers, credit cards, cell phones.
Because none of that stuff works down there.
Exactly. It can't save him in the unconscious
basement of the unfamiliar. The purpose of this
stage, Harmon argues following Campbell, is forced
simplification. To survive that bottom half of
the circle, the character has to become refreshingly
and frighteningly simple. They have to rely on
core instincts, basic truths. That makes so much
sense for Rick Sanchez. All his genius tech often
fails him and he's forced into these really raw,
simple, emotional or physical fights. Precisely.
The sci -fi chaos is just the setting for that
forced digestive process stripping him down.
And it's not just Campbell influencing him, right?
There are others. Definitely. You can see echoes
of Christopher Vogler's book, The Writer's Journey.
Vogler specifically wrote that to translate Campbell's
ideas for screenwriters. Made it very practical.
And Sid Field, the classic screenwriting guru.
Yeah, the influence of Field's structural analysis
is there too. Harmon absorbed all these ideas
about acts and plot points and distilled them
even further into his functional symmetrical
wheel. He often points to Star Wars as a film
that consciously uses that hero's journey template.
Okay, so he has this powerful universal structure,
but then he makes this really crucial distinction
about how you apply it differently for movies
versus TV. This is key. This is, I think, the
secret to his success and longevity in television.
So what is the difference? How does he use the
circle differently? Well, he explained it pretty
clearly. A feature film's job is basically structural
completion. It needs, in his words, to send you
out of the theater on a high in 90 minutes. Right.
You want that satisfying ending, that permanent
change in the character after the journey. Step
eight. needs to feel final exactly the story
circle achieves its full permanent satisfying
step eight change in a movie but television especially
a series that's meant to run for years and years
its job is different what's its job according
to harman to keep you glued to the television
for your entire life his words okay so if the
show needs to be renewable basically infinite
You can't let the characters change too much
or permanently solve their core problems. Exactly
right. The difference lies almost entirely in
how you handle step eight for television. So
how do you handle it? For TV, Harmon argues,
the focus of step eight is less about permanent
fundamental character growth, you know, riling
things up definitively, and more about getting
things back to where they started, at least emotionally
or situationally. Ah, the reset button. Kind
of. The character learns a lesson, maybe, often
a painful one. But the core conflict, the essential
flaw or dynamic that drives the whole show's
premise, that has to remain mostly intact. So
the circle can begin again next week. So Rick
and Morty have these insane universe -altering
adventures. Right. They go through the whole
circle, pay heavy prices. But at the end of the
episode, or maybe the season arc, Rick is still
fundamentally a brilliant, damaged, cynical guy.
And Morty is still fundamentally his anxious,
morally conflicted grandson. Pretty much. Step
eight brings them back, maybe slightly altered,
maybe with a new memory or trauma, but ready
for the next cycle. The engine needs to keep
running. That is structurally brilliant. Kind
of cynical, maybe, but brilliant. Manipulating
the final step of the narrative engine to ensure
episodic stasis or slow change, allowing for
infinite content. It's incredibly effective for
long -form serialized storytelling. And that
approach, that structural thinking, it fueled
the creation of his animation work, which often
ran parallel to Community. Right, Starburns Industries.
Yep. He co -founded that in 2010, actually, during
the first season of Community. And one of his
partners was Dino Stamatopoulos. Who played Starburns
on Community. Of course. Perfect Harmon meta
touch. Blending the show and the business. Totally.
And Starburns Industries, they immediately showed
they could handle complex animation, not just
live action comedy. They did the stop motion
community episode, right? The Christmas one.
Yeah. In their very first year. Yeah. And they
won an Emmy for it. Outstanding achievement in
animation right out of the gate. Wow. So they
became a real player in adult animation pretty
quickly. A significant engine. They were crucial
in getting Rick and Morty off the ground. They
also produced Charlie Kaufman's Anomaliza. The
stop -motion film. That was them. Yep. Oscar
-nominated. Highly respected. They also did Bubbles,
that unproduced script about Michael Jackson's
chimp, and HarmonQuest, of course, and HBO's
Animals. So Harmon's structural approach wasn't
just for writing. It extended to production across
different animation styles. It seems that way.
He had this capacity to apply structural thinking
to the whole creative and production process.
But that partnership, Starburns, it didn't last
forever. No, Harmon left the company in 2020.
And our sources note that the studio's output
kind of declined steadily after he left. Suggests
his vision was pretty central to their success,
even if he wasn't like animating every frame
himself. Yeah, it seems his creative drive and
structural oversight were major factors. And
his focus increasingly pivoted to the absolute
monster hit of his career. Which actually started
during that gap year when he was fired from Community.
Exactly. Rick and Morty. Developed with Justin
Roiland during that involuntary break, Adult
Swim ordered the pilot in 2012. Show premieres
December 2013. And the premise, this. Brilliant
but totally nihilistic inventor Rick dragging
his anxious grandson Morty on these insane interdimensional
adventures. It was the perfect vehicle for infinite
story circles. Cosmic chaos contained by episodic
structure. And it just exploded became a cultural
phenomenon almost instantly. It proved his structure
could handle like universe level stakes just
as easily as community college relationship drama.
Absolutely. And the network's faith in it was
just massive. Remember in 2018, Adult Swim renewed
it for 70 more episodes? Unprecedented. 70. That's
insane commitment. And Harmon voices Bird Person,
right? It is. Recurring character. Iconic voice.
There was that Collider interview that really
nailed the show's success, didn't it? It said
it was the marriage of two things. Right. Harmon's
adeptness for structure and character. Providing
the reliable engine. Combined with co -creator
Justin Roiland's insanely creative slash sometimes
insane mind. Yeah. Like Harmon built the perfect
circular train track and Roiland just threw every
possible obstacle, monster and alternate dimension
onto it. That's a great way to put it. And that
structure that Harmon provided framework really
proved its resilience recently. You mean with
the situation with Roiland? Yeah. In January
2023, Roiland was dismissed from the show following
domestic violence charges. Harmon became the
sole showrunner. And we should definitely note,
just for factual clarity, that Roiland was later
clear of those charges. The case was dismissed
due to insufficient evidence. Absolutely critical
point. But during that period of uncertainty,
the show continued. The structural stability
that Harmon provided allowed Rick and Morty to
keep going, almost without missing a beat, even
with such a major change. And his work just keeps
coming. The industry clearly still believes in
his ability to deliver these structurally sound
popular shows. He launched Kropopolis recently.
Right. Set in ancient Greece, Fox greenlit that
back in 2020. And the commitment from Fox on
that one is huge too, isn't it? It's immense.
The show premiered in 2023, but they'd already
renewed it through season five before season
three even premiered. Wow. That's betting big
on the creator. It really cements his position
as like one of the key structural minds in TV
right now. No question. We should also quickly
mention that other project, the Kurt Vonnegut
adaptation, The Sirens of Titan. Ah, yeah. Announced
back in 2017. Not many updates since around 2021,
but the fact he was tackling that book. Which
is so Vonnegut heavy on fatalism, free will,
cosmic absurdity, interventions. It just underlines
the kind of philosophical depth he's always reaching
for, even within the comedy structures. Fits
his preoccupations perfectly. So to really get
the full picture of Harmon's work, we kind of
have to look at the person behind it, too. The
writer, the public figure. His creative voice
seems so tied up with his identity. Very much
so. And that intersects. where the personal meets
the artistic, it became really clear when he
was writing a specific character on community.
Abed -Nadir. Exactly. While he was developing
Abed, researching the traits, Harmon started
to see parallels. He began to suspect he might
share some of those characteristics himself.
And he eventually concluded he was on the autism
spectrum after seeing a doctor? That's right.
It was a significant self -discovery, and he
said it was crucial for his understanding of
himself and his writing. He specifically said,
I started to discover that I had a lot more in
common with Abed than I did with Jeff Winger.
Wow. And you can really feel that insight in
his work, can't you? The authenticity and portraying
characters who are maybe brilliant logically,
but feel kind of emotionally isolated or process
the world differently. It adds this layer of
vulnerability. Absolutely. And that complexity,
that mix of logic and vulnerability, it's also
reflected in the huge range of things that influenced
him creatively. It's not just one thing. Yeah,
the list is pretty wild. High culture, low culture.
It's a fantastic mix. He talks about classic,
structurally complex films like Robocop. Love
Robocop. And Network. Patty Chayefsky. Then foundational
TV like Cheers. The writing on Cheers is incredible.
And the surrealism of Twin Peaks. Okay, that
makes sense. And books. leans towards the absurd,
the philosophical, Vonnegut. Again, it's Logger
House 5. And critically for Rick and Morty, The
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, he specifically
cited Adams' work as an influence on the show's
scale, the interdimensional travel, the tone.
But then there's really unexpected ones, too.
Like, didn't he talk about an evolutionary anthropologist?
Yeah, Elaine Morgan and specifically her work
on the aquatic ape hypothesis. The what now?
It's this less mainstream idea about human evolution
involving an aquatic phase. Carmen called it
a peaceful. Interesting mythical concept. OK,
that's definitely esoteric, but it shows how
he finds inspiration everywhere, right? Pulling
narrative ideas from science, even French science,
history, pop culture, building his unique worlds.
Exactly. But this very public, very complex personality.
It's also meant he's faced some intense public
scrutiny over his conduct and how he's handled
that, how he's addressed accountability. That's
become part of his public story, too. Right.
The most significant incident involved Megan
Gantz, who was a writer on Community. In 2018,
she spoke about his behavior towards her. Yeah,
she detailed his inappropriate advances and how
he treated her after she rejected them. It was
a really serious situation. And Harmon's response
was unusual for a public figure, wasn't it? He
addressed it directly on his podcast, Harmontown.
He did. He gave this really lengthy, detailed
apology. Didn't shy away from specifics. He talked
about making the advances, admitted he mistreated
her, retaliated professionally because his ego
was hurt. It was raw, uncomfortable listening.
But crucially, what was Ganz's reaction to that
apology? That's the important part. She publicly
accepted it. She said she felt vindicated by
him taking responsibility so thoroughly and publicly.
She actually called it a masterclass in how to
apologize. So the transparency, however difficult,
was ultimately seen by the person he harmed as
a sincere attempt at making amends. Okay. Then
there was another controversy around the same
time, 2018, involving an old video resurfacing,
the Daryl skit from 2009. Ah, yeah. That was
a parody of the show, Dexter. And it involved
Harmon simulating. Well... A disturbing scenario
with a baby doll. It was widely condemned as
offensive, distasteful. How did he handle that
one? He responded pretty quickly. Public apology,
called the content distasteful, said he realized
it was inappropriate soon after making it and
had removed it himself back then. Adult Swim,
his network for Rick and Morty, they criticized
the video but said they were satisfied with his
apology. There was some confusion at the time,
though, about why he deleted his Twitter account
right around then. People linked it to the skit
backlash. Right. That was widely reported. But
incorrectly, it seems. Harmon later clarified
he actually deleted Twitter in solidarity with
James Gunn, the director, who'd just been fired
by Disney over old controversial tweets. So the
timing was coincidental, according to him. OK,
so despite all this turbulence, the personal
controversies, the self -inflicted drama sometimes.
His actual creative output keeps getting recognized
at the highest levels. Definitely. The awards
confirm the impact. His most consistent recent
recognition has been for Rick and Morty, obviously.
Two Emmys for Outstanding Animated Program, right?
2018 and 2020. As executive producer. Yep. Thoroughly
deserved for the show's quality and impact. But
what really shows his range, I think, is that
other Emmy win. Much earlier, much more specific.
Which one was that? 2009. outstanding original
music and lyrics for the Hugh Jackman opening
number at the Oscars. Wait, he wrote the lyrics
for Hugh Jackman's opening number at the Academy
Awards? He co -wrote them, yeah. Won an Emmy
for it. So he's an Emmy -winning comedy writer,
an Emmy -winning animation producer, and an Emmy
-winning lyricist. Quite a range. That's incredible
versatility. And didn't Community get nominated
for a different kind of major award? Not an Emmy.
Yeah. He and Chris McKenna were nominated for
a Hugo Award. That's the big award for science
fiction and fantasy literature and media. For
which episode? For writing Remedial Chaos Theory.
The dice roll episode again. It shows that the
sci -fi and fantasy community recognized the
sheer craft and structural gamesmanship in that
episode as being top -tier genre writing. Wow.
And just to bring it full circle back to life,
imitating art or maybe feeling it. He's engaged
to Cody Heller, another writer. Right. And she
actually adapted a real life experience she had
with Harmon into a TV series called Dummy starring
Anna Kendrick. So once again, for Dan Harmon,
life is source material. And the story circle
is probably structuring the narrative of his
own life, whether he plans it or not. It really
feels that way sometimes. Yeah. Which brings
us to the synthesis, pulling it all together.
Yeah. The big takeaway about Dan Harmon. Which
is this paradox, right? Exactly. He's this brilliant
creator who finds incredible success by imposing
this rigid, almost mythic structure, the story
circle, onto these premises that are often...
deeply chaotic, cynical, even nihilistic sometimes,
like Rick and Morty. His mind somehow finds this
reliable, repeatable symmetry within existential
absurdity. It's quite something. So hopefully
we've given you the map today. You can see now
how these incredibly successful, complex stories
aren't just, you know, spontaneous genius. They're
built on a foundation of these eight simple,
repeatable steps. The story circle. The story
circle. And understanding that structure, that
mechanism, it leads us to our final provocative
thought for you to chew on. Okay, let's hear
it. If Harmon's application of the story circle
to television means that step eight, the change,
always has to kind of reset things, return the
character close to where they started, specifically
to ensure that longevity, that infinite renewability
over a finite conclusion. Right, keep the show
going forever. Does that inherently mean that
the most... commercially successful television
shows, structurally speaking, are the ones that
are essentially designed to force their characters,
like Rick and Morty, to just repeat the same
fundamental painful lessons over and over and
over again. Just maybe in a slightly different
dimension or with slightly different side characters
forever. Is that the engine of Endless TV?