The pilot is the most crucial episode for any television show. Because it is the audience’s first introduction to what a potential series may offer, a pilot is what makes or breaks a show. At South by Southwest 2026, the Independent TV Pilot Program selected six indie pilots to premiere in Austin, Texas, each telling a story uniquely their own with the hopes of seeing it fully develop into a series in the future. Whether realistic or supernatural, romantic or horrifying, The Michigan Daily shares each of these stories here with you.
Daily Arts Writers Eilene Koo and Nicolas Eisenberg can be reached at ekoo@umich.edu and niceisen@umich.edu, respectively.
“Cold Call”
When the credits rolled for “Cold Call,” I knew I was hooked — I almost screamed inside the theater for leaving me hanging where it did. “Cold Call” introduces us to a cult of office workers called Ergons, whose mission is to return home. And the only way to achieve this, according to their faceless leader Howl, is to cold call Humans and scam them out of their credit cards. The star worker Penny (Emma Lenderman) is utterly devoted to this mission until a surprising call with a Human and the disappearance of her best friend call her faith in Howl into question.
What stood out to me about “Cold Call” was how quickly it immersed me in its world despite its short 13-minute runtime. From its set design and color grading reminiscent of ’80s offices to the cast’s performances, the pilot dragged me in deeper with every second. Lenderman, as both showrunner and actor, understood what it meant for Penny’s world to be upended. This is displayed in Lenderman’s performance, as Penny grapples with the new information she learns about her Human caller and her fellow Ergons. All these details in the pilot’s world-building paid off; I was gut-punched at its ending. There is enough mystery and suspense that draws me into the story, and more than enough interest in seeing what happens to Penny. I’m begging for the full season now — I cannot ask for more from a pilot as excellent as “Cold Call.”
Daily Arts Writer Eilene Koo can be reached at ekoo@umich.edu.
“In My Blood”

What would you do for greatness? This is the question that director and showrunner Alex Bendo explores in his TV pilot “In My Blood.” Jack (Daniel Diemer) is a Minor League Baseball player who struggles to live up to his father Mike’s (Will Chase) expectations for the major leagues. In his efforts to become better at baseball, Jack turns to steroids, but at a dangerous cost.
Sports horror isn’t a novel idea, and “In My Blood” offers a storyline on par with others like it in the genre. It is gritty and dark, and builds intensity by utilizing the well-known narrative arc of a person pushing themselves to the limit to be the best in their field. This intense behavior strongly manifests in the strained father-son relationship between Jack and Mike. Diemer and Chase flourish in these uneasy and terse exchanges that add some necessary depth to Jack and his motivations for taking steroids.
From Nina (Natalie Portman) in “Black Swan” painfully plucking a feather out of her skin to rookie rower Alex Dall (Isabelle Fuhrman) pushing herself to near-madness to be the top athlete in “The Novice,” sports horror often makes exertion in a sport more horrifying, whether physically, psychologically or both. Although “In My Blood” has an intriguing supernatural possibility, it does follow this formula with its plunge into horror at the end, a move initially shocking, but ultimately unsurprising.
I’m not saying you have to reinvent the wheel, and “In My Blood” seems to have no intention to. It introduces some thought-provoking questions around drug use in athletics, the desire to succeed and the loss of control in one’s own ambitious quest for greatness. The pilot holds a solid foundation, and with the mystery it poses at the end, I hope that “In My Blood” further explores the sports horror genre with its supernatural lens in a full season.
Daily Arts Writer Eilene Koo can be reached at ekoo@umich.edu.
“Codependent”

“Codependent” is about two gay twins trying to break into the film industry. “Codependent” was also created by two gay twins trying to break into the film industry. Good writers write what they know, right?
Following twins Max (Wade McElhaney) and Tristan (Weston McElhaney), “Codependent” has a smart premise that hits all the right notes. The camerawork is solid, with fun angles and shot compositions. The twins share a room split down the middle by a wall that divides their beds, giving us a glimpse of what sets the two apart. The immediate color composition of both rooms and background details reveal the stylistic differences that define each character. Throughout the episode, the twins are conniving and catty as we watch their attempts to one-up each other blow up in their faces.
However, the humor is extremely hit or miss. It’s a Queer comedy, relying on the audience being comfortable with playfulness about sexual identity and some knowledge about Queer culture. Some jokes land really well, as the two feel comfortable using their identity to be the punchline of some really funny bits. However, at times it can feel like the punchline is just that the twins are gay; there’s a running joke that the two are on Grindr whenever they’re on their phones, which doesn’t really go anywhere.
Generally, “Codependent” is a promising look at what a modern sitcom — that is to say, a sitcom written by Generation Z — could look like, and I’m excited to see what the creators have to offer next.
Daily Arts Writer Nicolas Eisenberg can be reached at niceisen@umich.edu.
“Are We Still Married?”

I am a sucker for a good vampire story, and director Kit Steinkellner delivers one in her pilot “Are We Still Married?” The pilot centers around married couple Laura (Taylor Misiak) and Jack (Dustin Milligan) working through an unconventional marriage problem: Laura needs to decide whether to invite her newly-turned-vampire husband into their home. Bound by this classic vampire law, Jack attempts to persuade Laura throughout the night to let him back into their home (and their life) as his new self. Yet, Laura is hesitant to do so, not sure if he will bite her upon entering.
Despite Misiak and Milligan having only a few days to get to know each other before filming, you wouldn’t think that watching their chemistry From rueful banter to heated arguments — all happening as they stand on opposite sides of a doorway — the two leads truly feel like they have known each other for years. Although the premise of “Are We Still Married?” might sound emotionally heavy, it is light-hearted at times with jokes thrown in by Laura and Jack, and a soundtrack (Sofia Degli Alessandri) that emphasizes the sweeter moments between the couple.
Through vampirism, Steinkellner has laid out an exploration and a reflection of what it means to be in a committed relationship with someone in troubling times. “Are We Still Married?” may be considering some heavy questions (like the one asked in its very title), but its humorous touches and happy ending demonstrate a promising season that makes me root for Laura and Jack’s marriage.
Daily Arts Writer Eilene Koo can be reached at ekoo@umich.edu.
“Son of a Bikram”

You know you’re in for something interesting when a program starts with a fiction disclaimer; “Son of Bikram” was the only show at SXSW that needed to show this, and after watching, I now understand why.
“Son of Bikram” follows Raag (Ash T) as he copes with the sudden realization that his idol, Bikram Choudhury, is an abusive predator. We watch as Raag’s world crumbles around him following this stark reality. What distinguishes this pilot from the rest of the program is an overt focus on action.
“Son of Bikram” fashions itself as an action-comedy, with heavy emphasis on action. The majority of the pilot is a sequence that sees Raag battle his racist coworkers in order to protect Bikram’s honor. The sequence is cheesy, with dramatic and over-choreographed movements and gory effects. A battle with his boss ends with Bikram using his lunch thermos — which his boss had previously ridiculed for its smell — to pummel him senselessly.
In reality, this sequence takes place entirely in Raag’s imagination. The real drama is internal, as Raag reckons with a second revelation: Bikram was actually his secret biological father. It’s here that “Son of Bikram” reveals another one of its strengths: its ability to be tragic and morbid while also staying consistently funny.
There’s a playfulness between the dramatic and comedic elements. Although the revelations are melodramatic and silly in nature, you can still empathize with Raag. This way, the drama works in tandem to make the previous action cathartic along with the other victories that Raag achieves. With its unique formula, “Son of Bikram” commands an impressive understanding of action and drama in an exciting and intriguing manner.
Daily Arts Writer Nicolas Eisenberg can be reached at niceisen@umich.edu.
“Birth is for P*ssies”

“Birth is for P*ssies” may not be my favorite of the pilots exhibited due to its slower and meditative feeling that I just wasn’t quite in the headspace for, but I have a tremendous amount of respect for the creators and actors involved. Rather than compete to be the funniest or most dramatic pilot, “Birth is for P*ssies” cultivates an intimate space for both the characters and the audience to reside in, allowing us to have a look at people in their most private and vulnerable states.
Following rookie doula Maya (Hannah Shealy) as she steps in for her more experienced senior to help a client in the early stages of childbirth, “Birth is for P*ssies” is about navigating through complicated situations, like preparing to give birth. Maya is in way over her head as she tries to comfort single mother Celeste (Evelyn Howe), who is clearly feeling snubbed and dismayed that she’s stuck with the new doula. But, Maya’s stubbornness to help out Celeste slowly wins over, as we see her rise to the occasion to be capable of providing support to the soon-to-be mother.
The pilot is ultimately about unexpected intimacy; while waiting for her senior and trying to provide a space for Celeste, we watch Maya wait in a room with Celeste’s dad, Moises (Peter Jay Fernandez), for what seems like hours. Maya can’t speak Spanish, and therefore is unable to communicate with Moises, but a quiet comfort forms as Moises grows to trust Maya over time. As Celeste is finally rushed to the hospital, we come to understand the hard physical and emotional work that doulas handle, just as Maya gets a call to help another client. “Birth is for P*ssies” is a look at a line of work that is often overlooked in maternal care and is an important piece of art for that reason.
Daily Arts Writer Nicolas Eisenberg can be reached at niceisen@umich.edu.
