top of page

Writing for TV: The Chosen Pilot

  • Writer: Joseph Morganti
    Joseph Morganti
  • Aug 14
  • 4 min read

Regarding writing for television, few recent projects have demonstrated narrative innovation and emotional impact as powerfully as The Chosen. Created by Dallas Jenkins, The Chosen is the first multi-season series about the life of Jesus Christ.


The pilot episode, The Shepherd, was originally conceived as a standalone Christmas short. However, its unexpected popularity led to a crowd-funded project that would eventually develop into a full series.


As a piece of television writing, the pilot of The Chosen stands out not just for its spiritual content but also for its character-driven storytelling, modern pacing, and bold reinterpretation of biblical material.


ree

Still from 'The Chosen'. Photo credit: Youtube


Structure and Framing


At a structural level, The Shepherd follows a classic three-act format with a clear emotional arc. The episode centers around a lowly, physically disabled shepherd who is socially marginalized and mocked by his peers.


Though most viewers are familiar with this story, Jenkins wisely chooses to tell it from the perspective of someone entirely fictional and peripheral to the core gospel accounts. This decision allows for a fresh approach to a well-worn story, a critical move in television writing where audience familiarity can often breed disinterest.


The episode opens with a bleak tone—loneliness, rejection, poverty—and slowly builds to a moment of transcendent beauty as the shepherd witnesses the angelic announcement and ultimately the birth of Christ.


Character-Driven Approach


What distinguishes the pilot most from many biblical adaptations is its commitment to deep characterization. Rather than beginning with Jesus or Mary and Joseph, the episode immerses us in the shepherd’s world—his physical struggles, social rejection, and inner yearning. It demonstrates the importance of authenticity and relatability in characters, no matter the audience.


Moreover, the decision to invent a fictional character allows the writers to avoid the theological and narrative constraints that often come with portraying prominent biblical figures. In doing so, Jenkins opens the door to a broader emotional range—humor, bitterness, self-doubt—elements not typically afforded to “holy” characters in religious media.


Visual and Emotional Storytelling


Television writing is as much about what is seen and felt as what is said. The Chosen's pilot demonstrates a firm grasp of this principle. Dialogue is sparse but poignant, allowing the visuals and performances to carry much of the emotional weight.


For example, the shepherd’s recurring theme is looking up at the stars, a simple yet evocative image that symbolizes longing and hope. The writing here is thrifty–rather than having the character verbalize his dreams, Jenkins uses visual subtext to suggest them.


When your audience connects emotionally with your characters, your story transforms into something raw and human, full of heartbreak, struggle, and life. When a viewer falls for your character, the conflict, your lived experience, and all the emotion you’ve poured into the page finally become storytelling.


Dialogue and Tone


The dialogue in the pilot is both period-appropriate and accessible. Jenkins and his team avoid archaic biblical language, opting instead for a naturalistic style that feels modern without being anachronistic. This is especially important for younger or secular viewers who may be turned off by the “Sunday School” tone often found in religious programming.


Beginning writers often fall into the trap of over-explaining tone, tagging every line of dialogue with explicit emotional cues. But most dialogue doesn’t need it. Sarcasm, anger, or other attitudes should usually be clear from context. In most cases, there's no need to spell out how something is said.


Theme and Resonance


Thematically, the pilot deals with alienation, humility, and redemption–all human experiences that resonate far beyond religious contexts. Focusing on a disabled, socially ostracized shepherd creates an area for audiences to root for.


This thematic approach is what makes The Chosen unique among faith-based media. Rather than preach, the show dramatizes the gospel’s implications through individual stories. It invites viewers to see themselves in the narrative, regardless of their spiritual background.


Good TV writing often asks, “What does this story mean to a modern audience?” The Chosen answers by drawing emotional and moral connections rather than doctrinal conclusions.


These themes are essential because they add depth and meaning to a story. They help it resonate more deeply with readers and make it more memorable. A strong theme can also unify the story’s elements—characters, plot, and setting—into a cohesive whole. However, whether you need to have a theme in mind before you start writing is a matter of personal preference.


Risk-Taking and Innovation


Risk-taking is a significant part of television writing; without taking a story risk, you might give up on developing your script. Telling a Christmas story without focusing on Mary and Joseph, downplaying spectacle in favor of subtlety, and writing from a purely fictional perspective could have backfired. But in the hands of competent writers and visionary showrunners, they result in a profoundly moving story that sets the tone for the series.


This kind of pilot is unusual in terms of television development. It doesn’t aim for high-concept hooks or plot twists; instead, it offers a tone piece, a thematic statement, and a character-driven emotional arc. For emerging TV writers, this pilot provides a powerful example of how passion, craft, and clear intent can transcend budget and genre limitations.


Cultural and Industry Impact


From an industry perspective, the pilot’s success in crowdfunding and audience engagement speaks to the power of niche storytelling. Jenkins didn’t pitch The Chosen to networks or studios; he went directly to an underserved audience and trusted that they would see the value in the story.


This is increasingly relevant in an era of streaming and decentralized content platforms. It reminds writers that knowing their audience and writing authentically can often be more important than following industry trends.


On a broader level, writing for television requires a combination of narrative clarity, character depth, and thematic resonance. I’d argue this pilot exemplifies these qualities with quiet power. Dallas Jenkins and his team created an effective pilot and a foundational piece of long-form storytelling by choosing to tell a well-known story through an unfamiliar lens.


Whether one approaches it from a faith-based or purely narrative perspective, The Chosen’s pilot is a compelling case study in how to write television that moves, surprises, and endures.

bottom of page