Write a treatment for a six episode remake of the Brady Bunch, in which Mike Brady is given the tortured backstory and style of Laszlo Toth. Other elements of The Brady Bunch tend to remain similar or work around this distortion in creative ways.
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THE BRUTAL BRADY BUNCH
A six-episode limited series reimagining of The Brady Bunch in the tone and tragic grandeur of The Brutalist
Tone & Style:
This remake takes the sunny, pastel world of The Brady Bunch and filters it through the stark lens of brutalist architecture, European existentialism, and the emotional weight of exile and artistic ambition. The laugh track is gone, replaced by long, silent stares and deep shadows cast across cold concrete. The family remains—Carol, the six children, Alice the housekeeper—but they now orbit Mike Brady, a man suffocating under the weight of his past, his work, and the impossible demands of love.
EPISODE 1: THE FOUNDATION
The pilot reintroduces The Brady Bunch through a stark, poetic lens. We open not with the cheerful theme song, but with Mike Brady (played by an intense, brooding character actor) standing before one of his unfinished projects: an imposing brutalist structure, all harsh angles and raw concrete. Rain streaks down its surface like tears. He whispers, “A house is a tomb for the living.”
At home, the blended family is assembling, but instead of a chirpy montage, we see a strained, silent meeting at the long dining table. Carol, luminous and patient, watches as Mike smokes a cigarette, staring past his children. He loves them, but love is compromise, and compromise is weakness.
When Greg asks why the new house is so “ugly,” Mike mutters, "Beauty is a lie. Function is truth." This will be the central tension: the children want warmth and connection, but Mike can only see cold structures and the void of human existence.
EPISODE 2: LOAD-BEARING WALLS
The Brady house, once a beacon of suburban cheer, is now a looming brutalist masterpiece, a fortress of despair where every window is too narrow, every ceiling too high. The children try to hang a poster of a rock band; Mike rips it down in the night.
Meanwhile, Carol tries to reach him. She reminisces about their honeymoon in Prague, where he told her about his first life—before America. Before he was Mike Brady, he was Mihály Bradácz, an architect in exile. His first wife did not die in a tragic accident, as the sitcom once told us, but left him—fled from his coldness into the arms of another man.
The kids, sensing their father’s turmoil, try to connect with him. Bobby, eager for approval, presents him with a crude Lego brutalist structure. Mike studies it in silence. Then, quietly: “There is promise in this. But the human element will ruin it.”
EPISODE 3: THE MARCIA PROBLEM
Marcia is popular at school, but she is beginning to feel the existential weight of her father’s worldview. When she gets a modeling gig, Carol is thrilled, but Mike grimly warns: “They will carve you into what they need. You will vanish inside their dream.”
That night, Marcia stands in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection, whispering, “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia,” over and over, until the words dissolve into meaninglessness.
Meanwhile, Peter begins sketching houses—soft, inviting ones. He hides them under his bed. Alice, who once provided comic relief, now drinks quietly at night, staring into the middle distance.
EPISODE 4: ARCHITECTURE OF A BROKEN MAN
Mike’s latest project is failing. His clients want compromises—windows, color, joy. He refuses. He is fired. When he comes home, the kids are watching cartoons. The laughter from the television echoes like a hollow wound.
In a rare vulnerable moment, Mike tells Carol about his childhood in postwar Europe—a place of crumbling buildings, of silence, of men who came back from war missing something vital.
Carol holds him. “You don’t have to be that man,” she whispers. But he does.
Meanwhile, Jan—always in Marcia’s shadow—begins dressing only in gray and muttering cryptic phrases like, “The wall is load-bearing, but I am not.”
EPISODE 5: THE FAMILY AS A FAILED PROJECT
Cindy, the youngest, still believes in joy, in love, in sunshine. She builds a dollhouse, but when she shows it to Mike, he destroys it with a single sweep of his hand.
Carol confronts him. “If you cannot let love in, what is the point?”
For the first time, Mike raises his voice: “There is no point, Carol! There is only structure! Everything else is illusion!”
A storm brews outside. The house—his masterpiece—begins to leak. A crack appears in the ceiling. Mike stares at it, mesmerized.
That night, he dreams of his first home. He sees the ghost of his first wife, standing in the ruins. He wakes with a start.
EPISODE 6: DEMOLITION
The family has had enough. Greg and Peter climb onto the roof, trying to patch the leaking structure. The girls pack their things. Alice, in one final act of rebellion, bakes a colorful cake and leaves it in the empty kitchen.
Carol is at the door. “We’re going, Mike.”
Mike stands in the empty house, looking around. For the first time, he sees what he has built.
It is a tomb.
He lets them go. He does not chase them. He watches from the window as they drive away, their taillights disappearing into the dark.
He sits in his chair. He lights a cigarette. He watches the rain seep through the cracks in his perfect, broken house.
We fade to black as the faint sound of children laughing on a television plays in the distance.
Final Notes:
- The Brutal Brady Bunch keeps many of the original elements (family dynamics, key phrases like "Marcia, Marcia, Marcia") but filters them through the lens of despair, exile, and artistic self-destruction.
- The house, once a cozy suburban dream, is now a cold, imposing structure that ultimately fails to provide warmth.
- The show ends ambiguously—did Mike learn anything, or is he forever lost?
Would audiences accept this grim, existentialist reimagining of The Brady Bunch? No.
Would it be a masterpiece? Absolutely.
