TRANSCRIPT Bullseye with Jesse Thorn: Vanessa Ramos on Netflix’s ‘Blockbuster’

Vanessa Ramos is a television writer. She’s written for shows like Superstore, Bordertown, Crashing and Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Her latest show is called Blockbuster on Netflix. It’s a sitcom set at the very last franchise location of Blockbuster, and the employees who try to keep the store alive. We talk with Vanessa about creating the new sitcom, and her own memories of Blockbuster, and what VHS tapes were most important to her. Plus, how she got her start in comedy and what it was like to be in the writers room for Comedy Central Roasts.

Guests: Vanessa Ramos

Transcript

music

Gentle, trilling music with a steady drumbeat plays under the dialogue.

promo

Speaker: Bullseye with Jesse Thorn is a production of MaximumFun.org and is distributed by NPR. [Music fades out.]

music

“Huddle Formation” from the album Thunder, Lightning, Strike by The Go! Team. A fast, upbeat, peppy song. Music plays as Jesse speaks, then fades out.

jesse thorn

It’s Bullseye. I’m Jesse Thorn. Vanessa Ramos is my first guest this week. She’s a television writer. She’s written for shows like Superstore, Bordertown, Crashing, and Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Now, she has her own show: Blockbuster on Netflix. As you might have guessed from the title, Blockbuster is about the once great video rental chain of that name. It’s a sitcom set at the very last franchise location of the store. The show stars Randall Park and Melissa Fumero in the leads with a great supporting turn from JB Smoove. Park and Fumero play Timmy and Eliza. Timmy has worked at Blockbuster since—well, probably since the last time you set foot in a Blockbuster. He seems happy enough, but you know, he’s also the longtime manager of a Blockbuster. Eliza worked with Timmy back in the day, went to college, had a kid, but then fell on hard times and now she’s back. Timmy’s thrilled to have here there since he kind of has a thing for her. Eliza, she’s not so happy about the whole situation. Here's a little bit from Blockbuster’s pilot. The employees of the store have just found out that theirs has become the last remaining Blockbuster in the world. They’ve closed up the corporate office, and the folks working at the store are a little worried about their long-term job security. But Timmy has an idea to get folks in the community to sign up for memberships.

sound effect

Music swells and fades.

clip

Carlos (Blockbuster): A block party?! I might as well start looking for other jobs now! As if there are any. Hannah: This town’s not exactly the land of milk and honey, especially since they shut down the dairy and the apiary. Connie: Don’t worry, I’ll light a prayer candle the second I get home. Carlos: And I’ll wish upon a star. How’m I supposed to be the next Tarantino if I don’t work in a video store? Hannah: [Patronizingly.] Uh-huh. Yeah, that’s what’s holding you back. This is the only job I’ve ever had where my boss didn’t yell at me or ask if I can do the splits. Carlos: Great, now I have to go back to selling leggings. Hannah: At least now I can see my friends. Connie: I love you more than my real kids! Hannah: I can’t do the splits. Timmy: Guys! No one’s going anywhere or doing the splits.

sound effect

Music swells and fades.

jesse

[Chuckles.] Vanessa, welcome to Bullseye. It’s nice to see you.

vanessa ramos

Nice to see you!

jesse

I think it’s fair to say everyone here is old enough to remember when Blockbuster went bankrupt, but do you remember when Blockbuster moved into your neighborhood? Or was it always there?

vanessa

I seem to remember it being always there. ‘Cause it was—I think it was just even before I was like—knew what was in the building, there was the blue awning. And it just kind of look fun. Like, it was like Blockbuster and then like a little gym. And I was like, “I know those two things somehow seem appealing to me.”

jesse

Did you remember like the aesthetics of it?

vanessa

I did. Like, I also remember it had like a certain—I don’t even know how I would like describe the smell of it. My brain wants to go like candy corn?! But yeah, I like—I remember like walking in sort of like the aisles and then immediately just like the colors popping from like the candy and then the big like new release sign that was over the huge section, and it was like way too many copies of Terminator, but then they like were gone. So, I guess there was a method to the madness. But it was I think—like, I’ve talked about it. It’s like sort of—you know, like sort of Fantasia, like this world of possibilities. It’s like, “I’m gonna go through each and every one of these titles and find the perfect thing.” And it was like very, “With great power comes great responsibility.” You know?

jesse

Are you able to do—were you able to do that, emotionally? Because that was a real struggle for me when video stores still existed. I was—I couldn’t pick, not because I wanted to watch every—I just felt like I was gonna get it wrong.

vanessa

Yes! Oh, constantly. And I think it—like, I got it wrong enough—I mean, I think my main—my primary memories are when I was like little and my like—I’d go with my family, and my brother and I would have to agree on one movie for the both of us. And he’s like two years younger. And we had just messed it up so many times that it was like [sighs] okay, so we’re between these two—it would always be like some version of like Ducktales or something. But like these two, and then ultimately we would get scared and end up going with Rock-A-Doodle, which was like a animated— [Jesse laughs.] So, if I remember the movie correctly, it’s an animated like rooster based on Elvis who like he has—and this little boy is like, “Chanticleer—Chanticleer has to crow! He has to bring up the sun!” And then it turns out to be a child’s fever dream at the end?

jesse

I think that’s like the end of the Don Bluth line of films like— [Vanessa laughs.] There’s like American Tail was like the peak, you know. You had your Charlotte’s Web; you had your American Tail. And at the end, it was just like [strained] it’s a rooster that sings like Elvis?!

vanessa

“Is this anything?!”

jesse

Yeah. The other thing that I very vividly remember that was—you know, a Proust’s Madeleine moment for me in watching your show was those big movie posters on the wall. And it reminded me that for—and this may be a commentary on the neighborhood I grew up in, but for years the big poster in the window of the Blockbuster by my house was Phat Beach. P-H-A-T.

vanessa

Oh, I know the spelling of Phat Beach, sir! [They laugh.]

jesse

Do you know the butt from the poster? Because it was quite prominent!

vanessa

[Laughing.] Yes!

jesse

What are the things that you remember like looking at in there?

vanessa

Um, I—yeah, I don’t—when you—like, as soon as you said Phat Beach, immediately the poster came back to my head. But yeah, I’m trying to remember what was in mine in San Antonio. But it always felt like—it felt like some version of Weekend at Bernie’s or like Howard the Duck or like someone was wearing sunglasses and it meant that like they were living outrageously! But then there’d be like Primal Fear. And I’m like what is this balance?

jesse

Okay, so tell me a little bit about San Antonio when and where you grew up? What were the circumstances of your childhood?

vanessa

Um, yeah. I don’t know. My like mom and dad were born—my dad was actually born in Panama. His dad was a translator for the military, but like you know, it counted as like US. But it was kind of that’s where their families were and so that’s where—you know—my family stayed. And it was like tightknit Mexican family. Everyone lives within a five-mile radius of each other. And yeah, I went to Catholic private school for 12—I wanna say unsuccessful years, but the years were fine. It was just I don’t think the messaging really got to me. [They chuckle.]

jesse

Like it didn’t connect with you? The catechism or?

vanessa

No, I think it’s just like it didn’t like—it didn’t imprint on me, I guess, is like my thing. ‘Cause it was also one of those like schools—like, I went to like different elementary through eighth and then high school. But one of those schools where it’s like even though I’m a child, I’m like, “Mmm, the priest shouldn’t be wearing Prada shoes right? Like, he’s like—what are we—? When they pass that basket around, like is it a—you know, is he getting something custom made by Marc Jacobs? Like what are we doing?”

jesse

Did you think that you were gonna become a comedy person?

vanessa

Nooo. I thought—I don’t know, I think it’s like I was a very shy kid. And like I watched it. I didn’t like make friends easily or at all for most of my life. But like I watched—

jesse

Now wait, hold on, how sincere is that? What do you mean by that?

vanessa

No, I mean like I just was like a shy kid. Like, my mom I think was like, when I was little—or even as I was like starting to get older, she was like, “Oh! Go—you know, why don’t you go like hang out with Katie!” Like a friend of like her—you know, like one of my aunt’s friends. But I was always like just sort of hanging out with like the little kids teaching them how to like draw dogs and stuff. Like, I just kind of drew a lot and was like pretty quiet and have—you know, I still have anxiety, but it was something I hadn’t worked through yet. And then, also in Texas like that wasn’t—when I was growing up, it’s like, well, anxiety and like other issues, like that’s not really a thing yet. You know, that we like acknowledge. She was just like, “Oh, she’s just a weird, quiet kid.”

jesse

Were you also just consumed by family?

vanessa

I think so. You know, my brother and I were pretty close until we hit like that—you know, when I was like 15 and he’s 13 and then just as teens you like hate each other. But then we got close again later on. But yeah, I think I was just very to myself, ‘cause I felt—you know what, and I—oooh, this is—we’re about to get into an interesting place! I hadn’t thought about this. But like, I think if I really think about it, when I was five we had to go to Mass every week in school. And one of the things—one of my grandparents would always do the sign of the cross and then kiss their hand at the end. And I remembered—so, that’s how I learned how to do it. And I was sitting in the front row of church as like a kid. And the priest stopped what he was doing, and he goes, “Some of you do this kiss at the end.” And he was like, “That’s wrong.” Like, so being told by this like authority figure, this like representation for Jesus, you know, in that time that like your instincts or wrong or the things you do are wrong I think like really like made me shaky with like everything a little bit. Like, my interactions with people and like kind of feeling like I didn’t want, you know—I wanted to a little bit hide I think, to an extent. So, it’s like if I do something wrong, the spotlight’s not on me.

jesse

I mean, I don’t mean to ascribe too much to it, but like I would imagine that part of that is a feeling like it is a cultural practice. Like, if that’s what your family does, it is like an even bigger “you’re wrong”.

vanessa

Yeah. I mean, it was also—I think, if we’re looking at the sort of cultural side of it, it was a White priest. And you know, I grew up in like a Mexican family. I mean, I still am a Mexican person. But yeah. I think that ended up having more of an impact on me than I probably realized. But yeah, that’s all just to say like I don’t think I came out of my shell until college, ‘cause even high school I had this one friend—Tony Balboa—and he—we would exchange comedy albums. And like that was sort of like our like little language, and I feel like he got me. And I had like friends here and there, but you know, it’s not like—you know, people are like, “Oh! When you go back to San Antonio, is there anyone you see?” And like not really.

jesse

That’s a trip! That’s heavy. [Vanessa chuckles.] And it’s not because they left town.

vanessa

No. I mean, it was also catholic private school. It was like small. So, I think—and it was like clique-y anyway. And I have like my friend Sarah that like I grew up with. But I—you know, she like lives in Dallas and she’s barely like in town. But it just like—in terms of people that were in my grade, like I don’t—beyond you know, finding a fellow comedy dork, there wasn’t anybody like I super connected with.

jesse

How Latino, how Mexican American, how Mexican was your world when you were a kid?

vanessa

Um, [sighs] you know what? It’s a little hard to say, because it’s like—it was pretty Latino, but you also had like a girl in my class who was correcting, you know, one of teacher’s like [accented], “Perez?” And she was like, “It’s Perez.” (Purr-ez) Like, people who would try to sound Whiter as a means of—I mean, I get it like I guess, of like fitting in or—so—but yeah, I mean, there were other kids that like looked like me, but I don’t know. I think I just was like such an awkward kid that like—you know. I don’t know that I gave them anything to work with, in terms of like wanting to be friends with me.

jesse

Did you have a plan when you went to college?

vanessa

No! I mean, it was pretty much just like—uh, my plan was to have my dad not be mad. [Chuckling.] Like, it was like, “Okay, I’ll—” Yeah, I—you know.

jesse

Had your parents gone to college?

vanessa

They did. Yeah. They actually both went to a U of H in Houston, so they had gone locally. Yeah, I—I mean, we later found out I had ADD, so I had a hard time in school. Like, I could study something forever and get like a C. So, I like just kind of squeaked by. I got into Texas State in San Marcos, Texas. And I studied Mass Communications. But I was just like not great at school, so it’s like I studied that, and then the councilor there was like I think about to quit his job, and he was like, “You know, if you switch it to theatre, you can get out of here faster ‘cause a lot of the classes overlap.” And I was like, “Great! Let’s do theatre.”

jesse

Wait, are you suggesting that he was giving you advice based on trying to shed cases? [Vanessa laughs.] Like, reduce his caseload so he could retire early?

vanessa

[Laughing.] I think so! I think it was like—I think it was a little like, “Whatever, man. I’m on my way out.” Like—

jesse

Was this like a—like a socks and sandals ponytail type dude? [Vanessa laughs.] Or like a—?

vanessa

No, I think he was like a week away from socks and sandals. Like, a little bit of like maybe he wore the sweater the day before sort of thing. But like, that was a weird thing! ‘Cause even theatre, like we had—I think it was like movement class. And it was this guy that used to be like on in the background on Broadway, and they just like let him teach the class. And I think he was like really like just trying to throw it together. So, I remember he basically had us line dance to the song “One Headlight” by The Wallflowers one day. [They laugh.] Like, it was like so—it was—I can’t—like, I don’t, um—[at a loss for words]. It was a weird curriculum. But either way, I was like, “Okay, I got this piece of paper.” Yeah. And then like that was part of the deal with my dad. He was like, “Okay, you know, just get a degree in anything, and I will try to help you out. You know. If you wanna—you know, like get out of Texas, like move to LA.”

jesse

Line dancing and square dancing in school is something that’s far more widespread than I understood. [Vanessa confirms.] People across America are line dancing and square dancing in PE class.

vanessa

Uh, you’re looking at one of them! Yeah.

jesse

Which is not a sport! [Vanessa agrees.] I’m just—look, we had a parachute, but—

vanessa

No, yeah. No, I wasn’t graduating PE class until I learned how to do something called Slappin’ Leather to Brooks & Dunn. [Jesse laughs helplessly.] And the leather’s the side of your boot, ‘cause you’re supposed to hit it like it was… uh—

jesse

[Laughing.] You got an A in math, but a C in boot scootin’ boogie.

vanessa

[Laughs.] Pretty much, yeah.

jesse

We’ve got more to get into with Vanessa Ramos. When we come back from the break, we will talk about her move to Los Angeles and about how she managed to find work here in the city of angels, which is what we—Angelinos—call the city of Los Angeles. It’s Bullseye from MaximumFun.org and NPR.

promo

Music: Upbeat, quirky banjo music plays. Dan McCoy: Hey! I’m Dan McCoy. Stuart Wellington: I’m Stuart Wellington. Elliott Kalan: And I’m Elliott Kalan. Dan: Listen, you like podcasts, right? Sure you do. Don’t try and lie to me. You’re listening to one right now. So, why not try a different one called our one, The Flop House. Stuart: Uh-huh. And on The Flop House we watch a movie and talk about it. And then sometimes we do other stuff. Elliott: It’s all meant to be funny and fun and we think you’ll have a good time. And just to be clear, the name of the podcast is not Our One The Flophouse, it’s just called The Flophouse. I do a lot of correcting Dan. Dan: The Flophouse. A lot of correcting Dan. [Music ends.]

music

Thumpy rock music.

jesse

Welcome back to Bullseye. I’m Jesse Thorn. If you’re just joining us, I’m talking with Vanessa Ramos. Vanessa is a comedy writer who has worked on Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Superstore, and more. She’s also the creator of the brand-new show Blockbuster. It’s a sitcom about the very last Blockbuster video store in the world. It is streaming now, on Netflix. Let’s get back into our conversation. So, given your anxiety, given the fact that you came from a context where I can’t imagine you knew a lot of show business professionals. [Vanessa confirms.] What gave you the chutzpah to think, after graduating from college, “I should move to Los Angeles and become a professional comedy person.”

vanessa

I didn’t think I’d become a professional comedy person. Like, I honestly—I didn’t really have too much of a plan! I just—you know, I had been out to LA with my family, and I was like, “Oh! It’s nice weather and palm trees!” And then I knew at some point I wanted to try to do something in comedy, but I thought to be a writer like you have to go to like NYU or Harvard or study writing. Like, I didn’t know that it was a thing I could do. And honestly, I think it’s like with San Antonio, I just saw people around me where it’s like—wanna do all these things, but then you get comfortable and you end up working at like USAA, which was the big company out there that like—you know, my mom had worked for and my aunt had worked for and like they—you know, had a nice time doing that. But I was like I—even if that’s where I ultimately end up, I gotta try to do something else.

jesse

In some ways, Los Angeles is like the Paris of San Antonio.

vanessa

[Laughs.] In many ways!

jesse

There’s also great things that are unique to San Antonio. I’m not trying to put down San Antonio.

vanessa

Yeah. I mean, but we do have crepes here to compare. Yeah, for your analogy.

jesse

[Laughs.] That’s what I meant by my analogy is San Antonio + croissants.

vanessa

[Laughs.] I mean…

jesse

Did you know people when you moved there?

vanessa

No! Not really. I knew like one guy I’d met in college that like helped me get IO, and that was kind of my way in is I—that’s where I got to know people is I like interned in the box office and then waitressed there. And I ended up staying there for like five years, because it was like honestly just how I got to know people.

jesse

And IO is the Improv Olympic. It’s an improv theatre out here.

vanessa

Yes. IO West, formerly in West Hollywood.

jesse

Eventually, a car drove through one of them, right?

vanessa

Oh yeah! I was there later that day. That was the one. Here’s the thing that people don’t talk enough about the car driving through: the person—it was like four o’clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday. The person drove through the front of the building. Luckily, no one was working yet. But then, they got up, ran, and the cops had to wake them up to arrest them. [Jesse laughs.] It was like straight up Reno 911. It was great.

jesse

Well, except for your workplace being destroyed by a car!

vanessa

Well, sure! But also, if your workplace is gonna get destroyed, shouldn’t it be hilarious, Jesse?

jesse

You were doing standup comedy, right?

vanessa

Um, after. Like, I was at IO for a while. Then I started doing standup. And honestly, that—a little bit when I was working at IO, this woman came in and she was like teaching a standup class. And I was like, “Oh, I’m thinking about taking your class!” Like I was starting to come out of my shell and she just kind of looked me up and down and was like, [doubtfully] “Uh-huh!” Like, it was a very dismissive sort of thing. So, I wrote on the back of a box office form and did five minutes that night in the black box theatre, ‘cause I was just like—like, it was the push I needed, I think. And then, once you do it once, it’s like, “Okay, that was terrifying, but that—” You’ve broken the seal, so it’s like it wasn’t—I was able to like keep getting up again and I was like, “Oh!” And even that first time, I’m like, “Oh, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it was—” Like, I got laughs! Like, my first time ever doing standup and it’s like they weren’t huge laughs, but it was laughs, and I felt like I had something to build on.

jesse

What were you good at and what were you less good at as a standup?

vanessa

Um, I mean, writing. Like, that was always the thing people—you know, even when I felt like I was getting better onstage, they’d go, “You’re a great writer!” And it was like, oh—you know, not a great performer. But yeah! I think that was—and that’s kind of for me how it started is I started getting asked to write for comics when they would do Chelsea Lately or those like quick turnaround things. And then, in doing that, I realized—it was like—it was that and a combination of like the roast, where it’s like someone can deliver a joke I wrote and like deliver it wrong and it doesn’t feel like my heart got ripped out, because there’s a lot of comedians who try to go into writer’s rooms and they just like can’t—you know, they’re used to it’s like, “Oh, I’m onstage and I say my thing.” And they’re like, “No, no, no—well, this is—” In writers’ rooms, they’re like, “But this is the funniest thing. How are we—my thing’s the funniest, why are we not using it?” Like, their egos can’t really handle the sort of process of a writer’s room.

jesse

One of your first professional writing gigs was one of the toughest rooms you could be in, which was writing for roasts. [Vanessa confirms.] What was the room like on your first roast?

vanessa

Um, my first roast was 2012. It was a roast of Roseanne Barr before her comeback/meltdown. And it was—the way those things work is they have six people on staff. And then, they bring in like, you know, week two a couple of people do a couple of days here. You know, whatever. So, week one, it was like me and then just a bunch of guys that were like considerably older than me that had been doing them since the beginning. And it was like very intimidating. I think it was a little bit like those cartoons where there’s like a little chihuahua and like the bulldog puts its paw up and the dog is still trying to run, but not going anywhere. Like, it was like who is this little girl? But quickly, I think it’s like, okay, I just was like I’ll keep my head down and write the jokes and then they—once they saw that it’s like, you know, I was there because I loved comedy. Like, they were all—you know. I got super close with like a lot of them. And even Frank Sebastiano—who was a writer there—he ended up giving me good advice that helped, I think, those first couple years of writing. Because we were in windowless like offices just writing jokes all day. And it was like only Jane Lynch and Roseanne were booked at the time. So, you were just writing pages and pages of jokes about those two, and you’re just like, “I can’t write a single—another Jane Lynch joke.” And he was like—he goes, “Just pay attention to when your window’s open.” He was like, “You know, don’t force it, ‘cause you’re not gonna get anything good. Get up, walk around, and then when you’re sort of like feeling it—you know—you’ll have like a lighter—like your brain’ll be open.” And he was like, “Then sit down and write.” He was like, “You’re not gonna—you know, if any—sitting down and trying to force it will just block you up creatively the whole rest of the day.”

jesse

Are there rules? Like, are there boundaries or goals when you’re writing? Obviously one of the goals is to write funny jokes, but beyond that—like, when everyone sits down and there’s just a white board that says “Roseanne Barr” at the top—like, are there columns? Like, is there one that says “fat”, one that says “crazy”, one that says—you know what I mean?

vanessa

There kind of are! It’s in this like big—you know, sort—and it’s more so you can reference when you’re putting together sets for other comedians or other people. But it’s like this big sort of like stapled together, big like pages of jokes. And I’ll be like, “Okay, here’s jokes about crazy. Here’s jokes about fat. Like, it’s sort of—and you—based on the jokes you write, like they get put into that category once they’re like approved.

jesse

I mean, it’s like writing a joke in 1955 in some ways. [They laugh.]

vanessa

It does feel like it!

jesse

The reasons for that being scary to my mind are not just that it’s a bunch of people who are there and you’re new—right? But I bet these are mostly straight, White dudes.

vanessa

Uh, you’d be correct! I would say except for me, exclusively straight, White dudes.

jesse

And also, this is a room that is specifically—look, I’m not—I—it’s—maybe it’s overstating to say it’s specifically about being mean, because it’s first and foremost probably about being funny. But it’s definitely about both. [Laughs.] [Vanessa agrees.] Like, it’s more hostile than if you were—if your first gig was on Fallon or whatever.

vanessa

[Laughs.] That’s for sure. Yeah. I think that that’s a little bit—that part wasn’t weird to me, because—I mean, when I was—I think I was 13. My mom like saw that I had an interest in comedy. And again, just trying to get me out of my shell took me to the Latino Laugh Festival, which was like the only comedy thing that had come through San Antonio. And it was a bunch of people doing like, you know, Latino comedy, and it was a lot of “Chicano chickens do this”. Like that sort of thing. But it was a very young Greg Giraldo. And I saw him, and he just like did observational, and he just did—he didn’t like make his culture his whole thing, and I hadn’t seen that before. And so, I became obsessed with him and watched a ton of his stuff over the years. And then, when he started doing the roasts, like I had been watching them that whole time. So, it was a little bit one of those things that imprinted on my brain. And yeah, I mean, I worked with—over there—Jesse Joyce, who used to like be Giraldo’s writing partner. So, yeah. I was—when I got the roasts, like for me it was sort of like—it was the dream job. Because it’s like this is where Greg lived, kind of, in my brain.

jesse

Do you remember a joke that you were proud of?

vanessa

I don’t know that I’m the most proud of, but I will say this was like the first joke I ever got on TV—and this wasn’t even a joke; it was just like a one thing in like the leadup. ‘Cause you’re standing—it’s my first like roast, and you’re on the side. And like, behind the stage, and it’s a live event, and they’re—you know, they show this like package of Roseanne and she’s doing the national anthem, and it's all of this thing. And then, Jane Lynch does the intro. And I forget what like the leadup was, but it was like, “She’s a domestic goddess, American icon, and continues to thrill fans as Truck-a-saurus! Please welcome, Roseanne Barr!” [Jesse laughs.] And so, that was the first thing I wrote that ever got on TV was calling Roseanne Truck-a-saurus.

jesse

Was it weird to write horrible things about lady comedy icons with a bunch of dudes?

vanessa

Uh, yeah. I mean, it doesn’t—you don’t feel like, you know, like you’re an angel that’s gonna get its wings. I will say that. But—

jesse

I mean, like leaving aside the many ill-considered and problematic things Roseanne has said and done in the context of her struggles—apparent emotional and mental illness struggles and the occasional weird thing that Jane Lynch has said, I mean, that’s like two of the funniest people in the history of the world who also like in a way that, uh—[chuckles] who else has—in a way that—[struggling] maybe not—Flavor Flav is a bad example. [Vanessa laughs.] Who else has been on the dang roast?!

vanessa

I mean, Saget was roasted.

jesse

In a way that Bob Saget may not have had to deal with a looot of baloney to get to their places. All comics have to deal with baloney, not excepting Saget, but Roseanne may have had to deal with more.

vanessa

Yeah. I mean, yes, but it’s like—honestly, with—at least in that joke world and a little bit out of it was my first time, I think I very actively just had to be—like, sort of like, “Okay! I’m just gonna put my head down and write jokes.” And then, as it started—you know, ‘cause I ended up doing James Franco, Justin Bieber, Bruce Willis—yeah, like I did a couple after that. So, I think once I sort of solidified my spot and as like someone as like—that was, you know, kind of a regular in these rooms, then I felt I had like a little bit more room to sort of be like, “Mmmm! Do we need, uhhhhh—so, I noticed we’re not calling any of the men old?”

jesse

This is Bullseye. I’m Jesse Thorn. My guest is comedy writer Vanessa Ramos. When you started writing narrative comedy, working on initially an animated show called—what was it called? Bordertowns?

vanessa

Bordertown. Yeah.

jesse

Bordertown. Which was a Seth McFarlane kind of gag-a-minute show, which—I mean, I can understand why they would hire probably the most accomplished comedy writer in LA who directly understood the world of south Texas. [They chuckle.] But like when you got into those things—and eventually Superstore, which ran for a long time, wonderful show—what were the things about story and character that you had to learn coming from a world where your goal was just to write the most distinctive physical characteristic of a person on a whiteboard and then write 40 punchlines about that underneath it?

vanessa

Yeah! I mean, well, it—like, Bordertown ended up kind of being the perfect connective tissue, because everything was just like you—every instinct in me at the time was like, “You hit the joke, you get out. You hit the joke; you get out.” You know. So, it’s like, you still—within, you know, that sort of like Bordertown world, you still had to story. You still had your A story and your B story. And so, sort of like learning how that maps out and learning how long an act one should be and sort of the beginnings of that was a good way to like transition into a live action. And then, I think if I’m being honest, I feel like I didn’t fully learn or get story until beginning of season three of Superstore. And that was just watching—you know, watching other writers at the board. Like Sierra Teller Ornelas or Jackie Clarke, who I brought on my show. Just, I’m a visual learner. So, once you have the whiteboard and you see like, “Okay, the pink heart is the A story, the blue cards are the B story. Here are your act breaks. Here—” Like, just something—it’s almost like finally being able to click a Rubik’s cube into place. You’re like, “Oh! This is what it should look like!” I know how to get it there again.

jesse

I love sitcoms. I’ll sit around and watch Cheers or Taxi or something any time. Just, “You wanna hang out and watch Taxi?” “Yeah, I’m in. What did Danny DeVito say on this one that was mean?” [Vanessa laughs.] But it’s also a 70-year-old form on television, and—you know, to some extent, extends further back on radio. And it’s like a very particular thing, ‘cause you have to make—for a network show, you’re making 23 of them or whatever in a year. So, you’re making one almost every week with the same characters, and you just have to have a way to make 100 or 150 stories out of this same set of ingredients. How do you decide, when you’re making a show for Netflix where the show’s consumed differently, how much of that you are keeping and how much of that you are not?

vanessa

Um. [Sighs.] I mean, I don’t know if there was an active—I definitely like approached it differently with like knowing the ten. And then, Netflix was also—it’s like you gotta have some sort of cliffhanger at the end of every episode, especially the first three are most important. And then, I think the way—and one of the execs was like, “So, there’s this episode of Squid Game that ends with this.” And I was like, “That’s great, but we’re not—” Like, yeah, I can’t—we’re very much not Squid Game.

jesse

You’re like, “We’ve got some elements. I mean—"

vanessa

[Laughs.] I mean, it’s like very—yeah, we are loosely Squid Game at best.

jesse

They’re like, “Raise. The. Stakes.”

vanessa

[Laughs.] “Kill. Someone. Off.” So, yeah. So, I think the way sort of I was able to in my head was like okay, ‘cause we can’t have a thing, is like, okay, thinking of it as an emotional cliffhanger versus a physical—like, when it’s not—you know, in the first episode it’s like is the—you know, is the store gonna be okay? Or are they hanging on by a thread? But then getting to like episode four, where it’s like Timmy hears that Eliza’s moving back in with her husband and he’s—you see him defeated, and he’s kind of like, okay, this is where he has to kind of throw in the towel. But I think the thing with like network shows I’ve been on, it’s a little like, “Okay! We’ll figure out these first couple of the season, and then as we go, feel where we’re going. With like the approach for this show, I went from—you know—not thinking beyond the pilot until we had a pickup to immediately, “Okay, what’s the finale gonna be?” Because then it’s like I was saying, the way of approaching an episode too, it’s like where do I need Timmy to be by episode five, emotionally? Or where’s—you know, is the store doing well? Like, where does it start doing well for it to have like an impact in the finale? So, it really is just big picture sort of like mapping out. And then, even if I don’t know what the stories are gonna be, I’ll say like, “Episode two, Carlos—you know—film school.” Or like, “Emotional.” And then, “Episode eight is like Hannah like homes—” Like just— And then, go into the writers’ room and say, “Okay, guys, like we wanna—you know. I don’t like true blue-skying, ‘cause I’m like, “There’s just too many options.” But it’s like let’s figure out, you know, a story within this area for this character.

jesse

How do you put together an ensemble for a workplace sitcom? How did you decide who these different people were in this world? Beyond your—you know, you have two leads, and then you have the other people that work there. So, how do you decide what the other people who work there are?

vanessa

This one was a weird instance, because—I mean, I—it was like the heart of the pandemic. It was 2020 when I started writing this. And a lot of it honestly just came from missing my family, ‘cause like I live alone. So, it was like Connie is Connie Ramos. Connie’s my mom. Well, yeah, it’s just an exaggerated somewhat version of my mom, played by Olga Merediz. Yeah. And then, Hannah’s based on my sister-in-law. Like, I kind of started putting together like a little bit of like a fantasy team of people in my life and building around that.

jesse

How do you cast somebody [chuckling] to play your mom?!

vanessa

[Giggles.] I mean, it ended up working—like, and I’ve said this before, but like Olga met my mom in Vancouver, and it was like that Spider-man meme, ‘cause they’re both tiny Latino women, and then also—you know, when makeup and stuff would ask and it’s like, “Okay, so—"

jesse

The one where Spider-man is pointing at Spider-man and Spider-man’s pointing at Spider-man.

vanessa

Yeah, just pointing. Exactly! It’s fully that. But yeah, like they’re both like teeny tiny, like these small women with like similar-ish features. She was not like—Olga’s audition was amazing. And then makeup when we were going through stuff were like, “Okay, so Connie. What is her make—” And I just described my mom’s makeup. So, she was like—they had like kind of the same makeup on, and they just started hugging and speaking to each other in Spanish. [Jesse laughs.] But yeah, I think the thing with like Connie is she—and it’s a little like—I think it’s a little bit of the roast stuff coming through—she says things that aren’t great, but it’s not coming from a bad place. She genuinely doesn’t know. Like, there’s a little piece of her that’s like—Martha, who’s, you know, my housekeeper, she like accidentally roasts me like every time where she’s just like, “Um, I was just cleaning out the shower, and you lose a lot of hair, huh?” Like, it’s like—and then, so I’m walking around for a week like seeing if my hair is thinning. Like, it’s just sort of these—like, and I think that’s the relationship Connie has with like Eliza, where like even in the finale and she was like, “Oh, Patrice!” And just like, “Sorry. You have bad posture. I thought it was Patrice.” Like, she’s just constantly—or like, the whole thing about it’s like, you know, she’s like, “If I—you know—don’t come back, I haven’t been kidnapped. I’m going through my Beyoncé gone solo phase.” And it’s like, “Oh, you’re—you know, you’re not beautiful enough to be kidnapped. I mean, you’re pretty, sure, but to get a kidnapper’s attention you have to be like an 11.”

jesse

[Laughs.] How did you end up with Randall Park and Melissa Fumero?

vanessa

Kind of magic! I think—so, Randall—it was actually written for him. Like, in my pitch document, it says—you know, “A Randall Park type.”

jesse

What does that mean, a Randall Park type?

vanessa

He’s so likeable. And he’s so just like winning, you can’t help but root for him. And I think you need that, because otherwise with this character, it’s like he can seem pathetic or delusional, but he just is like—there’s something about the way he—you know, the way he delivers his lines and even just like the look he gives at the end of the pilot. Like, you can’t help but be on his side.

jesse

He’s very earnest.

vanessa

Yes! But yeah, so I had wrote—you know, I wrote a place for a Randall Park type, and then when the show got picked up—‘cause it—and people, you know, Randall—or David Caspe would tell me, he was like, “I mean, there’s no world where we get Randall Park. So, it’s like we should start thinking about, you know, auditioning people or something.” And then, once we got the official pickup, he was like, “Well, let’s just like for the fun send it to Randall.” And he was the only person that read it, and was in.

jesse

Now, Melissa Fumero, also very earnest performer. [Vanessa agrees.] She was a soap opera actress before she was on Brooklyn Nine-Nine for years. She’s much warmer than you might imagine from soap opera actors, but she’s just as good looking, and like sincere. So, like, how do you—uh, how do you think about making a show that is—a sitcom that is two stars, neither of whom is goofy?

vanessa

Yeah, um… I don’t know! Like, I honestly—a lot of this is just like this is, if I’m being perfectly honest, I didn’t think there was a world where this show would ever go! It was my first time developing. And every—you know, every writer is like, “Oh, enjoy the process. Like, it’s—you know, it sucks, and no one gets it on their first try.” I was told so many times that it’s just like—that’s just not how it works. Your first time developing, it doesn’t become a show. You’re lucky if you get to shoot a pilot. So, I kind of just—I was like, okay, well if this is gonna be—you know, something that like in my mind it’s like, you know, it’ll get read on Dead Pilot’s Society, maybe. I kind of just wrote what I—

jesse

Shoutout to Dead Pilot’s Society, that Maximum Fun podcast where people read their pilots that did not go.

vanessa

[Chuckling.] Yes! So, I think that was like a little like liberating, in a way. ‘Cause I was like, “Okay, I can—you know, I’ll have this either as like a sample or like—” I didn’t overthink it, because people were just like, “No, that’s—you know, no one gets to make a show their first time doing development.

jesse

You forgot that you were strapped to the corporate rocket ship that is Blockbuster Video. [Chuckles.]

vanessa

Yeah! That being said, I think it’s like—‘cause it was originally pitched to NBC, and they—you know, they passed. And then Netflix, a week later it was like, “We’d like to meet about this.”

jesse

“We have some graves to dance on.” [They laugh.]

vanessa

Yeah! “Shining our dancing shoes.” That part, I’m always—‘cause like of course I get asked about that. And I will say, to their credit, like they did let us take our jobs like in the show at Netflix, but I feel like—I’ve read conflicting things, but I feel like it was like basically Netflix went to Blockbuster and was like, you know, “Do you want to buy our company?” And the executive like laughed them out of the room. And then, like three years later, they’re like, “Oh! We finally figured out streaming.” But everyone makes it sound like they just sort of bulldozed their corporate offices.

jesse

[Laughs.] Do you remember when Blockbuster had a streaming service?

vanessa

No!

jesse

I think Blockbuster had a streaming service. It was not a successful one. [Vanessa chuckles.] And then they had a DVDs by mail service as well, in those early, heady days.

vanessa

Yeah! I didn’t remember any of that.

jesse

It was an exciting time for American media. [They laugh.] Can I ask you a serious question that’s very stupid? I think there are more actual movie posters in Blockbuster than I have ever seen in anything in film or television. Most television shows have awkward, made-up movies, like all those fake movies from Seinfeld. Most movies don’t acknowledge the existence of other film titles. And your show is full of actual movie posters. [Chuckles.]

vanessa

Yes! Well, you know what? We actually didn’t have that many. We just got creative about moving them around or like the one you see in Timmy’s office is suddenly in the break room. And that was—I mean, because it’s—some of them I think were Universal’s, so we got them, you know, not—but it’s just expensive. You have to pay to like use them.

jesse

Do you have to like—did you make a list of like, “We would really like U-571, but we’ll settle for Crimson Tide.”

vanessa

I mean, pretty much, yeah. It was like, “Okay, so here’s a list of things we—” You know, “Here’s our ones we prefer.” And then none of them were like—it was basically like, okay, these are $10,000+. Or these are—you can do, you know, feature each of these for like $1500 or something. And so, it just became like what fit in our budget or that visually, even if it’s in the back of the store, you’d be able to make out what movie it was.

jesse

What’s the real bargain here? What did you—where did you feel like you got over?

vanessa

[Sighs.] Um, I’m trying to—‘cause I think we had so many sort of old—like old-ish ones around that I think we felt—like, Straight Outta Compton was like fairly recent, and I think we have it in Timmy’s office, and then I’m sure it’s somewhere else at the store in the season. But it felt like it’s like, “Okay! Like, we’re making it seem like the store has like current movies.”

jesse

It’s not just Phat Beach?

vanessa

It’s—I mean, although now it’s like if we get future seasons, I just was like—I just wanna have all of them be Phat Beach, specifically for you.

jesse

You’re like $20,000 for the poster for Soul Plane?!

vanessa

[Laughs.] Actually, I wonder if that’s Universal, if I can get Soul Plane. I may try to in a season two.

jesse

We’ll wrap up with Vanessa Ramos after a quick break. When we return, tape talk! Which VHS tapes were most important to our growing up? You won’t be surprised to learn that at my house [chuckling], I fiercely guarded my copy of Monty Python and the Holy Grail, but we also had a—we had a copy of The Commitments that got watched 7000 times. But you know, Commitments, great movie. It's Bullseye, from MaximumFun.org and NPR.

promo

Music: Bright acoustic guitar. John Moe: Hey, it’s John Moe, inviting you to listen to Depresh Mode with John Moe, where I talk about mental health and the lives we live with all kinds of people. Famous writers. David Sedaris, welcome to Depresh Mode. David Sedaris: Thanks so much for having me. John: Movie stars. Jamie Lee Curtis, welcome to Depresh Mode. Jamie Lee Curtis: I am happy to be here. John: Musicians. I am in St. Paul, Minnesota, and I’m talking to Aimee Mann. Aimee Mann: Great to talk to you. John: And song exploders. Hrishikesh Hirway, welcome to Depresh Mode. Hrishikesh Hirway: Thanks so much for having me. John: Everyone’s opening up on Depresh Mode, on Maximum Fun. [Music ends.]

music

Thumpy rock music.

jesse

I’m Jesse Thorn. You’re listening to Bullseye. I’m talking with Vanessa Ramos. She’s written for Superstore and Brooklyn Nine-Nine. She also created the new sitcom Blockbuster. It’s streaming now, on Netflix. Let’s get back into our conversation. There’s something very sad about the last Blockbuster. So… how do you decide who works there? Like, who wants to be at the last Blockbuster and not down the street at Sephora?

vanessa

[Chuckles.] I mean, that was my way in is like figuring out—you know, ‘cause it was—you know, John Fox, one of our producers, was like, “I have the rights to Blockbuster. Do you wanna develop a workplace comedy?” And sort of I was—I asked myself that question with like who works at—who’s running it? And it was somebody that not only loves movies but has to have an emotional connection to it. And that’s a little bit how I landed on the—you know, the best times of his life were in this era, and when his parents would fight, he would retreat into movies. And you know, Timmy has a superpower of being able to recommend the perfect movie exactly when someone needs it. And that’s kind of the only place he can like publicly flex that superpower. So, it was just using that character as the way in, of like not just loving—you know—movies but loving what the store did and being able to feel like he’s his best self there.

jesse

One of your characters learned English from watching movies. That’s a very common experience. Retreating into movies is a very common immigrant experience. [Vanessa agrees.] Like, you must have known folks in San Antonio who had one of those experiences as a little kid.

vanessa

Yeah! I mean, I knew a guy that he—the reality was that learned from movies, but mostly from like Cypress Hill albums. [Jesse chuckles.] Like, it was such a specific thing that I remember. And so, yeah, that was the foundation for—like I said, it was just—gave me pandemic time by myself to think about the different people in my life and—you know—who I would want—like, who I wanted to see, I guess, in this world. And yeah, I thought about the kid that was super into like—but also like knowing the lyrics to like a Cypress Hill album, I think, or like to all of the songs, I wonder how far that gets you on the day-to-day interactions.

jesse

What are the VHS tapes that, if you think of them in your childhood, you find comfort?

vanessa

Um, I think we had the VHS for Look Who’s Talking. Look Who’s Talking, possibly Look Who’s Talking 2. The Look Who’s Talking verse was very big in my home.

jesse

There was a third Look Who’s Talking, wasn’t there? Look Who’s Talking Now?

vanessa

With the dog! Now—it was with the dogs. The dogs were talking now.

jesse

But by then, Kirstie Alley and John Travolta were out?

vanessa

I think that was the last one they were still in. I think they just kind of shot around it, ‘cause I think it was still the same kids. Right? But the dog—maybe the—I don’t know. I don’t remember.

jesse

Kirstie Alley and John Travolta both—let’s say “colorful characters” in real life. [Vanessa chuckles.] Anything else besides—? My family watched The Commitments a lot. And Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Remember the era where you could all of the sudden buy used VHS tapes at the Blockbuster that were leftover from the new releases? [Vanessa confirms.] Those were heady days.

vanessa

Yeah. I feel like—oh, um, Three Ninjas was another big one. And then, when you said the like used bin, I think that’s why. Because there was like a third sort of offshoot of Three Ninjas that ended up in the used—like, all of the sort of like once you get past like the first couple Beethoven, the St. Bernard movies and then you get like Beethoven’s Big Break. Like, that’s a bin movie.

jesse

Wait, what happens in Beethoven’s Big Break?

vanessa

It’s with Jonathan Silverman and his son, and Beethoven is discovered by Hollywood, I believe.

jesse

So, they’ve already—in this one, they’ve—they’re—we’re past the Judge Reinhold _Beethoven_s.

vanessa

Yeah, like Grodin, we’re—you know, Charles Grodin—like that era. He’s—

jesse

Grodin’s out after number one, I think. Maybe number two.

vanessa

Yeah, he’s around for Beethoven’s Second, where they have the puppies. ‘Cause I mean, here’s the thing, like that’s—you want those puppies all inconveniencing Grodin. But I think after that he was done.

jesse

They’re a real hairshirt for Charles Grodin. [Vanessa laughs.] Most things fit him comfortably. Most life activities seemed like happy joys to Charles Grodin, but the puppies, no sir. [Vanessa confirms.] Do you remember when you stopped having a video store as part of your lifestyle?

vanessa

I don’t remember the exact year, but I remember—yeah. I remember just kind of—because it was such a ritual, like my dad coming home from work and the four of us going and getting movies for the weekend. Like, it was like a thing of like Dad’s gonna come home early, this family activity. And then it felt like the beginning of like everybody kind of doing their own thing. And it’s like, okay, well—you know, I’ll go watch something in my room. My brother’s gonna play like a video game. My parents are gonna be on the couch like watching something.

jesse

Did you have family movie night?

vanessa

We—I mean, during Blockbuster times, like we did.

jesse

What did it involve?

vanessa

It was—oh, my mom like making popcorn with way too much butter and her being like, “See? It’s like being at—” Every time, she would say, “It’s like being in the theater.” And it’s like, well, we have popcorn and it’s a couch. But yeah, it was that, and then you know, my brother and I would sometimes get—we would just play basically pretend movies or like with the—you know, we’d have candy. She’d have popcorn. My dad would try to pry himself away from work, and then—I don’t think my brother and I ever made it through a full movie. We’d end up falling asleep.

jesse

Every time?

vanessa

Every time.

jesse

Even if it was something really exciting like Rock-A-Doodle?

vanessa

Well, Rock-A-Doodle was not something the rest of the family would watch. Like Rock-A-Doodle—not only would we watch Rock-A-Doodle, but there was like this one—it was my brother and I. We’d like put it on in the morning, kind of like before my dad like was up and around the house. And then, we’d keep rewinding this one part where they make an evil sort of rooster. Or not rooster, like evil bird. They shrink him down and he just has no powers, and he suddenly has a high voice. And he says, “Hunch, it’s me. Uncle Dukey!” And we thought that was the funniest thing we had ever seen. So, we would just like rewind the hell out of that for most of the morning. [They chuckle.]

jesse

Well, Vanessa, I sure appreciate you taking all this time to be on Bullseye. And it’s a really funny show. Thanks for making it.

vanessa

Thank you! Thank you for having me and for watching.

jesse

Vanessa Ramos. Her new show is called Blockbuster. Its entire first season is streaming now, on Netflix. It’s very fun and funny. Randall Park, what a treasure! Also, other people on the show. I just especially love Randall Park.

music

Relaxed synth with light vocalizations.

jesse

That’s the end of another episode of Bullseye. Bullseye is created from the homes of me and the staff of Maximum Fun, in and around greater Los Angeles, California. Here at my house, the three trees that I planted out front are starting to lose their leaves. They’re either dying or just deciduous. Only time will tell. Our show is produced by speaking into microphones. Our senior producer is Kevin Ferguson. Our producers are Jesus Ambrosio and Richard Robey. Our production fellow at Maximum Fun is Tabatha Myers. We get booking help from Mara Davis. Our interstitial music is by DJW, also known as Dan Wally. Our theme song is “Huddle Formation” written by and recorded by The Go! Team. Thanks to them and to Memphis Industries, their label. Bullseye is on YouTube, Twitter, and Facebook. Find us in all of those places, follow us. We will share with you all of our interviews. And that’s about it. Just remember: all great radio hosts have a signature signoff.

promo

Speaker: Bullseye with Jesse Thorn is a production of MaximumFun.org and is distributed by NPR. [Music fades out.]

About the show

Bullseye is a celebration of the best of arts and culture in public radio form. Host Jesse Thorn sifts the wheat from the chaff to bring you in-depth interviews with the most revered and revolutionary minds in our culture.

Bullseye has been featured in Time, The New York Times, GQ and McSweeney’s, which called it “the kind of show people listen to in a more perfect world.” Since April 2013, the show has been distributed by NPR.

If you would like to pitch a guest for Bullseye, please CLICK HERE. You can also follow Bullseye on Twitter, YouTube, and Facebook. For more about Bullseye and to see a list of stations that carry it, please click here.

Get in touch with the show

People

Senior Producer

Producer

Maximum Fun Producer

Maximum Fun Production Fellow

How to listen

Stream or download episodes directly from our website, or listen via your favorite podcatcher!

Share this show

New? Start here...