Is a limited series a TV show, or really just a big, fat movie? That’s the question at the heart of this week’s screenwriting takeaway.

To figure that out, we’re exploring the pilot episode of Unorthodox, Netflix’s latest nail-biter. This four-part “limited series” (which we used to call a miniseries back in the day) is about a young Jewish wife escaping her Hasidic community in New York and fleeing to Berlin, while her husband from an arranged marriage hunts her down.

It’s a simple, thrilling premise that is excellently done. Read on to see what a screenwriter—or any writer, for that matter—can take away from what’s on screen: what worked, what didn’t, and how you can use what’s popular to craft better stories.

*WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD*

1. Drop right in on the conflict and make us play catch up. Unorthodox doesn’t waste time with leisurely character and setting introductions. It begins minutes before our heroine, Esther "Esty" Shapiro, plans her escape from a repressive Hasidic enclave in Brooklyn. We don’t know who the main character is, and we don’t know why she’s running. We don’t even know what she’s running from (unless you read the Netflix description). We’re caught off-guard; leaving us confused and worried for a character we’ve just met. It’s perfect. There’s no time for us to form our own opinions or deduce what we would do if we were in this situation. We have simply one goal—escape. All we feel is Esty’s terror and tension. Throwing us into the deep end of the pool is an excellent storytelling device. Especially for our modern, short-on-attention-span viewers.

Great stories give you exposition without you even realizing it. Bad ones screech their momentum to a halt with coddling and clunky exposition. Unorthodox doesn’t care that you don’t understand Hasidic Jewish religion, you’ll simply have to learn it on the fly. How it does help the audience gather facts is by jumping between timelines; we see the years leading up to Esty’s marriage to her submissive, nervous husband, Yakov "Yanky" Shapiro. The only tell that we’re in the past is Esty’s long, blonde hair. The tiny Esty (perfectly played by Shira Haas, an Israeli actress) is a mouse among big personalities and even bigger expectations as to what a good, Jewish wife should be. Unorthodox doesn’t stop to explain all these nuances to you, and we are better for it. To that end, this series forgoes a traditional character type in its pilot episode, which is the subject of takeaway number two.

2. No audience surrogate character. It’s an archetype or trope that is especially necessary in science fiction, fantasy and action genres, where a character asks questions the audience would ask. The problem is, sometimes these characters exist solely to ask questions to give the audience answers.  Think: Rashida Jones in The Social Network and Paul Reiser in Aliens. Heck, even Bilbo Baggins and Harry Potter begins as audience surrogates, though they soon leave that “question/answer” character type behind and become a true surrogate—one that the audience sees themselves in—but that’s not what I’m talking about. Yes, Esty is our emotional surrogate; she is who we feel for, who embodies our desire for freedom throughout the series.  But she does not fill the main role of a “question/answer” character. She doesn’t slow down to explain things to us. We are her in spirit, but she is not us. It should be pointed out that later in the series, the writers wisely decide to give us those exposition springboard characters in the form of Esty’s new friends in Berlin. They not only show Esty another life, but they ask questions that give the audience necessary information. But the writers of Unorthodox forgo traditional “question and answer” characters in the pilot episode, which actually enhances this next takeaway…

3. The mysteries are peeled back slowly, like an onion. In honor of that simile, let’s stick with the food theme. Mysteries are best given to the audience one bite at a time. Unanswered questions are a dish best savored and not wolfed down. And Unorthodox serves up a feast of mysteries over the course of its first hour, forcing us to listen closely to deduce backstory based on reactions and context clues. Without an audience surrogate character to ask questions, the audience is left waiting—and that’s a good thing. What happened to Esty’s mother that has pulled her out of Esty’s life? What about Esty’s stern and silent father? What about that wire in the beginning? (It’s an eruv, by the way). Then there’s the villainous Moishe, schooled in the ways of modernity, the man who’s brought in to hunt Esty. He’s clearly desperate to be brought back into the Hasidic community, yet he’s committed some past sin. All of these mysteries are laid out in the first episode, and the script makes no effort to answer them. Screenwriters are trained to ask and answer the reader’s questions—but the real trick is how and when you do that. Let them turn the page to find out. I can’t stress how mysteries are the lifeblood of storytelling. Good writing takes a backseat to good storytelling every time. Those two things are not the same. Learn that distinction, and you’ve found the recipe for success. See, I brought the food thing back around again.

4. A new culture makes an old story fresh. The truth is, from the The Handmaid’s Tale to every Lifetime movie, we’ve all seen, read and heard stories of women in terrible circumstances that they must fight to escape. It’s not a fresh concept. But Unorthodox proves that tropes and old ideas can be given brand new life when placed in a new setting. It introduces the world to the hidden, repressed and willfully separate Hasidic community that thrives to this day in New York City. It is a culture filled with old world customs and superstitions, archaic gender roles, and steeped in music, culture and food. It’s mysterious, magical and fascinating…but Unorthodox also paints the Hasidic community with a dark and sinister brush. Everyone speaks in hushed whispers, casting angry glances this way and that. The show gives the idea of the “runaway wife” a wonderful new platform. In fact, the setting and culture of Unorthodox is explored so well and in such depth, that Netflix did a short documentary to accompany this series, Making Unorthodox.

5. The beauty of ‘based on’. Unorthodox is loosely based on Deborah Feldman's 2012 autobiography, “Unorthodox: The Scandalous Rejection of My Hasidic Roots”.  I stress loosely, because this is a highly fictionalized version centered around Esty and her escape which only draws core concepts from the book and little else. It might be better to say this series is “inspired by” its source material. But that’s not the takeaway here. The real takeaway is the power of adaptions, source material, and pre-existing works. More than ever, producers, writers, studios and managers are optioning material. Not just comic books and novels. We’re talking memoirs, news articles, web blogs—you name it. It’s a hot zone for spec writing. You can ask your agent or manager to look into securing the rights of a pre-existing work for you, but really any writer can go about securing the rights to write a script based on some other creative work. You don’t need to be represented to secure the copyrights (your managers won’t tell you this, because they want to control the option, not the writer).
   
   Wait, what’s all this talk about copyright? What even is an option? How do you do that? These are critical concepts that modern, working writers need to understand. A primer can be found here and here. And full disclaimer, you should one-hundred percent talk to a lawyer when drawing up any contracts between you and another writer/creator. But adaptions will give your project immediate legitimacy in the eyes of producers and buyers, and you don’t need managers or agents to take those first steps. While you can reach out to other writers, don’t go stalking Stephen King and asking him for his movie rights any time soon. Stick to blogs and smaller publications. The modern world of screenwriting is drifting away from old-school hierarchy, and up-and-coming screenwriters would be smart to spend a little less time studying the craft and just a little more time studying the financial and legal side of things. It’s called show business, after all. Half of that phrase is business. Never forget that.

Final Takeaway: At face value, Unorthodox could be construed as just another runaway woman story. However, an unexplored culture, excellent performances, and pitch-perfect tension make Unorthodox feel like an epic movie, taking it far away from its humble television roots. The best limited series of 2020 so far.