Dramatica Writing Articles by James Hull
Writers Who Write the Same Main Character
July 2016
Artists tend to tread the same narrative ground. They feel drawn to themes and issues that resonate with their own personal issues and use storytelling to work through those problems. Director Christopher Nolan is no different.
Appraising Nolan's catalog of films through the eyes of Dramatica reveals a common set of elements. Memories, Understanding, Conceptualizing, and the Past all play significant parts in many of his films. In Memento, Leonard (Guy Pearce) struggles to fight against his disability with short-term memory. Inception explores the conflict involved in getting Robert (Cillian Murphy) to understand a key bit of information. And in The Prestige two magicians (Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale) scheme against each other in an effort to be the first to conceptualize the other's next move. Common areas of thematic intent wrapped up in different storytelling.
It should seem obvious then where Nolan's 2006 film Batman Begins would fall. But it wasn't.
For years, I have searched for the correct storyform for this film. For those unfamiliar with the Dramatica theory of story, a storyform is a collection of seventy-five story points that maintain the message of a narrative. Dramatica's story points are not independent, but rather interdependent. They work together to provide a holistic hologram of Author's Intent and help identify why a story unfolds the way it does.
While looking for the storyform for Batman Begins, I knew that elements of Equity and Inequity would somehow be involved. Justice and restoring balance play a heavy hand in this film. And I felt certain that Issues of Interdiction would come into play–once you see someone or something headed down a dark path you often want to intercede on their behalf and fix it. But I wasn't sure where the actual Throughlines fell within the Dramatica Table of Story Elements.
Dramatica was the first theory of story to identify four distinct, yet interwoven, Throughlines within a complete narrative:
These are not separate storylines. The Main Character exists within the Overall Story. So does the Influence Character. But their subjective points-of-view rest within their individual Throughlines. This is key because these Throughlines are actually points-of-views on conflict themselves:
In addition to seeing Throughlines as these distinct points-of-view, Dramatica identifies four areas where conflict is found:
Four points-of-view. Four ways of seeing conflict. Attach each of the Throughlines to one of these areas of conflict and you have a complete story. Only one rule: the Overall Story Throughline and Relationship Story Throughline must be diagonally across from each other, and so must the Main Character Throughline and the Influence Character Throughline.
July 2016
Artists tend to tread the same narrative ground. They feel drawn to themes and issues that resonate with their own personal issues and use storytelling to work through those problems. Director Christopher Nolan is no different.
Appraising Nolan's catalog of films through the eyes of Dramatica reveals a common set of elements. Memories, Understanding, Conceptualizing, and the Past all play significant parts in many of his films. In Memento, Leonard (Guy Pearce) struggles to fight against his disability with short-term memory. Inception explores the conflict involved in getting Robert (Cillian Murphy) to understand a key bit of information. And in The Prestige two magicians (Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale) scheme against each other in an effort to be the first to conceptualize the other's next move. Common areas of thematic intent wrapped up in different storytelling.
It should seem obvious then where Nolan's 2006 film Batman Begins would fall. But it wasn't.
For years, I have searched for the correct storyform for this film. For those unfamiliar with the Dramatica theory of story, a storyform is a collection of seventy-five story points that maintain the message of a narrative. Dramatica's story points are not independent, but rather interdependent. They work together to provide a holistic hologram of Author's Intent and help identify why a story unfolds the way it does.
While looking for the storyform for Batman Begins, I knew that elements of Equity and Inequity would somehow be involved. Justice and restoring balance play a heavy hand in this film. And I felt certain that Issues of Interdiction would come into play–once you see someone or something headed down a dark path you often want to intercede on their behalf and fix it. But I wasn't sure where the actual Throughlines fell within the Dramatica Table of Story Elements.
Dramatica was the first theory of story to identify four distinct, yet interwoven, Throughlines within a complete narrative:
- The Overall Story Throughline (OS) -- the conflict involving everyone
- The Main Character Throughline (MC) -- the conflict personal to the central character
- The Influence Character Throughline (IC) -- the conflict provided by an alternative approach
- The Relationship Story Throughline (RS) -- the conflict that exists between the Main and Influence Character
These are not separate storylines. The Main Character exists within the Overall Story. So does the Influence Character. But their subjective points-of-view rest within their individual Throughlines. This is key because these Throughlines are actually points-of-views on conflict themselves:
- OS Throughline is THEY
- MC Throughline is I
- IC Throughline is YOU
- RS Throughline is WE
In addition to seeing Throughlines as these distinct points-of-view, Dramatica identifies four areas where conflict is found:
- fixed, external problem or Situation
- a shifting, external problem or Activity
- fixed, internal problem or Fixed Attitude
- a shifting, internal problem or Way of Thinking
Four points-of-view. Four ways of seeing conflict. Attach each of the Throughlines to one of these areas of conflict and you have a complete story. Only one rule: the Overall Story Throughline and Relationship Story Throughline must be diagonally across from each other, and so must the Main Character Throughline and the Influence Character Throughline.
So if you have an Overall Story Throughline in Activity, that means the Relationship Story Throughline will be in a Way of Thinking, or Manipulation. Think of Star Wars or Casablanca. In those films, everyone is dealing with physical conflict that needs to be stopped, while intimately a relationship explores conflict born out of manipulation.
This works for the Main Character and Influence Character dynamic as well. If you put the Main Character Throughline in Situation, that means the Influence Character Throughline will be in Fixed Attitude. Think Inside Out or Rain Man. In those films, the central character deals intimately with problems arising from status, while they face another character stuck with a certain fixation in his or her mind.
When I first saw Batman Begins in 2006, I felt for certain the Overall Story Throughline would fall under Situation. After all, there was a lot of discussion over Gotham and how it compared to civilizations in the past, and how it needed to be thrown into darkness in order for the light to rise again. Everyone found themselves dealing with that conflict.
But that would mean Bruce Wayne would have to fall into either an Activity or a Way of Thinking. Way of Thinking felt totally wrong: Bruce Wayne in Batman Begins is nothing like Hamlet or Salieri In Amadeus. Activity sounded better, but if Bruce suddenly stopped moonlighting as a vigilante he would still be personally conflicted. That's not how a Throughline works.
After ten years of struggling with identifying this film, it was time to cheat.
A Hidden Clue to the Structure
In Dramatica there is a story point known as the Main Character Approach that classifies the central character of a story into two different camps: a Do-er or a Be-er. Classifying the Main Character as one or the other defines whether the Main Character prefers to solve their personal problems externally or internally.
It also defines where the Throughline will fall.
If the Main Character prefers to solve problems externally, then their Throughline will be either in a Situation or an Activity. Once we identify where we think a problem is, we see a solution there as well. If we have an external problem we are dealing with, then we will first try to solve it externally–thus, Do-er.
If we have an internal problem we are dealing with, then we will first try to solve it internally either through a Fixed Attitude or Way of Thinking. This is why a Be-er prefers to solve their problems internally.
Note that this is only a preference. Clearly Main Characters can do both. What the Main Character Growth is trying to communicate is which one the Main Character prefers to do first. Some like to change the world around him, while other prefer to change themselves first.
Bruce Wayne is the latter.
At first, this may seem counterintuitive. Certainly Bruce spends the bulk of the film doing things. When we first meet him he takes on seven prisoners by himself, for "practice”. He engages in ninja school and spends pretty much the entire second half of the film fighting his way to victory.
But when you look at the personal moments with Wayne, those moments that are intimate to his character and his character only–you can begin to see a preference for a different kind of approach.
Personal Issues Unique to the Main Character
When looking to identify the Main Character Throughline of a story, it is important to look for those things that are unique to the Main Character and no one else. The stuff of this Throughline is the kind of stuff the Main Character would take with them into any story–not just the one in front of us. Look for their emotional baggage, those issues they are trying to overcome.
Wayne's greatest personal issue that is unique to him surrounds the murder of his parents and this idea that his fears were somehow responsible for their death. This isn't a Situation. Or an Activity. Or even a Way of Thinking. This is a Fixed Attitude.
And it shouldn't be surprising because Christopher Nolan likes Main Characters who struggle with what they think–Main Characters who struggle with their Fixed Attitudes. Leonard in Momento. Robert Angiers (Hugh Jackman) in The Prestige. Obsession with a thought drives the characters in many of Nolan's stories–including Batman Begins.
When Throughlines Fall into Place
Identifying Bruce Wayne as a Be-er dealing with a Fixed Attitude ends up forcing his Influence Character into Situation. The question is, who is Bruce Wayne's Influence Character? What relationships represents the heart of the story?
His relationship with Rachel Dawes (Katie Holmes) seems to be the likely candidate. But remember, the Influence Character is a point-of-view not a character. Rachel doesn't really challenge Bruce on his approach to things. And when she does, she is really just standing in for another character. So who stirs up all kinds of trouble because of a point-of-view they have in regards to a certain Situation?
Ra's al Ghul.
That perspective that Gotham should perish and go the way of Rome or Constantinople isn't the source of conflict everyone experiences. Rather, it is the point of view of the League of Shadows as expressed through Ra's al Ghul/Ducard (Liam Neeson).
This idea that Bruce should embrace his fears–"you fear your own power, you fear your anger, the drive to do great and terrible things”–comes from Ducard. And it is exactly what Bruce needs to hear in order to grow through his own Fixed Attitude. Ducard connects with Bruce because it is a similar, yet slightly different perspective. Similar in that it is fixed, different in that it is external whereas Bruce's perspective is internal.
This is why they can have their "You and I” moment after training. They are both alike in that they are both seeing conflict from a fixed point-of-view, but they are different in that one is external and the other internal. This dissonance fuels their interactions. That argument over the will to act is the text of Relationship Story Throughline.
Finding the Storyform for a Story
The quad of four elements below represents Ra's al Ghul's point-of-view as seen through the eyes of Dramatica. Ra's is driven by people's fears, angers, and their refusal to accept the drive deep within them to do terrible things. And this drive within himself causes him to see a lack of justice or peace as the problem in the world. And in response, he upsets the balance of things: "When a forest grows too wild, a purging fire is inevitable and natural.";
This works for the Main Character and Influence Character dynamic as well. If you put the Main Character Throughline in Situation, that means the Influence Character Throughline will be in Fixed Attitude. Think Inside Out or Rain Man. In those films, the central character deals intimately with problems arising from status, while they face another character stuck with a certain fixation in his or her mind.
When I first saw Batman Begins in 2006, I felt for certain the Overall Story Throughline would fall under Situation. After all, there was a lot of discussion over Gotham and how it compared to civilizations in the past, and how it needed to be thrown into darkness in order for the light to rise again. Everyone found themselves dealing with that conflict.
But that would mean Bruce Wayne would have to fall into either an Activity or a Way of Thinking. Way of Thinking felt totally wrong: Bruce Wayne in Batman Begins is nothing like Hamlet or Salieri In Amadeus. Activity sounded better, but if Bruce suddenly stopped moonlighting as a vigilante he would still be personally conflicted. That's not how a Throughline works.
After ten years of struggling with identifying this film, it was time to cheat.
A Hidden Clue to the Structure
In Dramatica there is a story point known as the Main Character Approach that classifies the central character of a story into two different camps: a Do-er or a Be-er. Classifying the Main Character as one or the other defines whether the Main Character prefers to solve their personal problems externally or internally.
It also defines where the Throughline will fall.
If the Main Character prefers to solve problems externally, then their Throughline will be either in a Situation or an Activity. Once we identify where we think a problem is, we see a solution there as well. If we have an external problem we are dealing with, then we will first try to solve it externally–thus, Do-er.
If we have an internal problem we are dealing with, then we will first try to solve it internally either through a Fixed Attitude or Way of Thinking. This is why a Be-er prefers to solve their problems internally.
Note that this is only a preference. Clearly Main Characters can do both. What the Main Character Growth is trying to communicate is which one the Main Character prefers to do first. Some like to change the world around him, while other prefer to change themselves first.
Bruce Wayne is the latter.
At first, this may seem counterintuitive. Certainly Bruce spends the bulk of the film doing things. When we first meet him he takes on seven prisoners by himself, for "practice”. He engages in ninja school and spends pretty much the entire second half of the film fighting his way to victory.
But when you look at the personal moments with Wayne, those moments that are intimate to his character and his character only–you can begin to see a preference for a different kind of approach.
Personal Issues Unique to the Main Character
When looking to identify the Main Character Throughline of a story, it is important to look for those things that are unique to the Main Character and no one else. The stuff of this Throughline is the kind of stuff the Main Character would take with them into any story–not just the one in front of us. Look for their emotional baggage, those issues they are trying to overcome.
Wayne's greatest personal issue that is unique to him surrounds the murder of his parents and this idea that his fears were somehow responsible for their death. This isn't a Situation. Or an Activity. Or even a Way of Thinking. This is a Fixed Attitude.
And it shouldn't be surprising because Christopher Nolan likes Main Characters who struggle with what they think–Main Characters who struggle with their Fixed Attitudes. Leonard in Momento. Robert Angiers (Hugh Jackman) in The Prestige. Obsession with a thought drives the characters in many of Nolan's stories–including Batman Begins.
When Throughlines Fall into Place
Identifying Bruce Wayne as a Be-er dealing with a Fixed Attitude ends up forcing his Influence Character into Situation. The question is, who is Bruce Wayne's Influence Character? What relationships represents the heart of the story?
His relationship with Rachel Dawes (Katie Holmes) seems to be the likely candidate. But remember, the Influence Character is a point-of-view not a character. Rachel doesn't really challenge Bruce on his approach to things. And when she does, she is really just standing in for another character. So who stirs up all kinds of trouble because of a point-of-view they have in regards to a certain Situation?
Ra's al Ghul.
That perspective that Gotham should perish and go the way of Rome or Constantinople isn't the source of conflict everyone experiences. Rather, it is the point of view of the League of Shadows as expressed through Ra's al Ghul/Ducard (Liam Neeson).
This idea that Bruce should embrace his fears–"you fear your own power, you fear your anger, the drive to do great and terrible things”–comes from Ducard. And it is exactly what Bruce needs to hear in order to grow through his own Fixed Attitude. Ducard connects with Bruce because it is a similar, yet slightly different perspective. Similar in that it is fixed, different in that it is external whereas Bruce's perspective is internal.
This is why they can have their "You and I” moment after training. They are both alike in that they are both seeing conflict from a fixed point-of-view, but they are different in that one is external and the other internal. This dissonance fuels their interactions. That argument over the will to act is the text of Relationship Story Throughline.
Finding the Storyform for a Story
The quad of four elements below represents Ra's al Ghul's point-of-view as seen through the eyes of Dramatica. Ra's is driven by people's fears, angers, and their refusal to accept the drive deep within them to do terrible things. And this drive within himself causes him to see a lack of justice or peace as the problem in the world. And in response, he upsets the balance of things: "When a forest grows too wild, a purging fire is inevitable and natural.";
The Influence Character Quad of Batman Begins The Influence Character Quad of Batman Begins
From there, Dramatica begins to work its magic and predicts story elements not selected. For Ra's Issue of Interdiction to work, Bruce himself must be facing an Issue of Suspicion. The suspicion that he had something to do with the murder of his family, and the suspicion that he is somewhat like his father–who also failed to act.
For Ra's Concern of the Past to work (which is forced by our selection of the Issue of Interdiction) then Bruce's Concern must have something to do with Memories. Anytime he steps out of his role as billionaire vigilante and confronts his own demons, they always have something to do with suppressed Memories.
The magic of Dramatica is simply balance. If an Influence Character looks to the Past, then a Main Character must look to their Memories. If an Influence Character looks to Intercede, then a Main Character must look to their own Suspicions. Whether Christopher Nolan or screenwriter David S. Goyer looked to Dramatica for help or not, that natural balance within the story is there.
Perhaps they found it as a result of writing stories with similar thematic intent. Maybe the first came out a little rough, but as they continued to explore this area and refine their understandings of it, their intuition kicked in and assured a proper balance between the Throughlines. Dramatica is built on the psychology of the mind, not on observable repeated patterns within film. It only makes sense then that a theory based on the psychology of the human mind would be able to predict the intuition of a writer trying to construct a well-balanced story.
Something More Than Backstory
The confusion involved in locating the storyform for Batman Begins can be attributed to the use of time-shifting in the StoryWeaving phase. What looks like backstory is really an essential part of Bruce Wayne's growth as a Main Character. In next week's article we will continue to dive into the storyform for Batman Begins and explain how the mechanism of its narrative works.
This article originally appeared on Jim's Narrative First website. Hundreds of insightful articles, like this one, can be found in the Article Archives. Want to learn how to generate story ideas the way explained this article? Join our Dramatica® Mentorship Program and receive personalized instruction on how to master the Dramatica theory. Become a master storyteller. Learn more.
From there, Dramatica begins to work its magic and predicts story elements not selected. For Ra's Issue of Interdiction to work, Bruce himself must be facing an Issue of Suspicion. The suspicion that he had something to do with the murder of his family, and the suspicion that he is somewhat like his father–who also failed to act.
For Ra's Concern of the Past to work (which is forced by our selection of the Issue of Interdiction) then Bruce's Concern must have something to do with Memories. Anytime he steps out of his role as billionaire vigilante and confronts his own demons, they always have something to do with suppressed Memories.
The magic of Dramatica is simply balance. If an Influence Character looks to the Past, then a Main Character must look to their Memories. If an Influence Character looks to Intercede, then a Main Character must look to their own Suspicions. Whether Christopher Nolan or screenwriter David S. Goyer looked to Dramatica for help or not, that natural balance within the story is there.
Perhaps they found it as a result of writing stories with similar thematic intent. Maybe the first came out a little rough, but as they continued to explore this area and refine their understandings of it, their intuition kicked in and assured a proper balance between the Throughlines. Dramatica is built on the psychology of the mind, not on observable repeated patterns within film. It only makes sense then that a theory based on the psychology of the human mind would be able to predict the intuition of a writer trying to construct a well-balanced story.
Something More Than Backstory
The confusion involved in locating the storyform for Batman Begins can be attributed to the use of time-shifting in the StoryWeaving phase. What looks like backstory is really an essential part of Bruce Wayne's growth as a Main Character. In next week's article we will continue to dive into the storyform for Batman Begins and explain how the mechanism of its narrative works.
This article originally appeared on Jim's Narrative First website. Hundreds of insightful articles, like this one, can be found in the Article Archives. Want to learn how to generate story ideas the way explained this article? Join our Dramatica® Mentorship Program and receive personalized instruction on how to master the Dramatica theory. Become a master storyteller. Learn more.
Finding Your True Self Through Writing
June 2016
Going with your first impression is usually a recipe for disaster when it comes to writing. Far too many times, the first thing we come up with is simply a rehash of something we have already seen or read. Pushing ourselves to move beyond our comfort zone opens up worlds of story we never even knew we had inside.
Following up on last month's article Generating an Abundance of Story Ideas, we take a look at the remaining three Playground Exercises. To recap, I was struggling to come up with concrete imaginative encodings for my Influence Character's Story Points. Instead of using Dramatica's insights to make my story bigger, I was simply parroting the different appreciations and making my story smaller in the process. I eventually decided to take my own advice and began working through a series of Playground Exercises that I created to help clients break through their usual creative ruts.
The effect was staggering and I felt it would be good to share my experience with writers and producers wondering how to use Dramatica to increase their level of creativity.
New Discoveries
Note how different these three are from the previous two and how far away I started to get from my original story idea. This is a very good thing. Instead of writing a story that was already in my head and–let's be honest–not particularly original, I started to head down a path that reflected more of my subconscious thoughts & desires rather than the subconscious of someone else.
By locking in the thematic meaning of the story with the storyform, I was able to stretch my imagination with the confidence that I wasn't wasting my time. I wasn't heading down another blind alleys I wasn't wasting my precious few hours a day writing chasing the wrong dog.
With Marissa I found a character who found peace shutting out the world around her. With the Bonaporte family I found the pain induced by trying to keep the memory of a family member alive. With Harold I found gold.
Getting Personal
Now Harold is about as far away from my original Stephen King-inspired story idea that I could get: a character who was so deathly afraid of factory-style work because of it hid the reality of one's true calling. That should feel authentic to you, more authentic than the guy who couldn't remember if he killed someone, and it should–because it is something very honest and true to my heart.
I had no idea deep down inside that this is what I felt. I mean, I knew it on a superficial level, but I didn't know my true feelings on the subject. By working through these Playground Exercises I was able to unearth something extremely personal to me–something honest and real. Something that I could really dive into and communicate from deep within my own consciousness and experience.
I almost left this last one out. It's a bit too revelatory and I was concerned about what my colleagues in the animation industry might think of my true feelings. But I guarantee many of them feel the same–as do many of you. We've all had jobs or careers that didn't sit right, didn't feel authentic. And by getting to that honesty my story will now end up connecting more deeply with those who read or see it.
People go to stories for truth, for shared experiences. By not concerning myself with thematic intention or this character's relation to the rest of the story, I ended up forming someone who reflected my deepest of intentions. What writer wouldn't want that?
Next week I'll cover the process of folding these five very different characters into one. You can pretty much be guaranteed that Harold will fit predominantly into that mix.
Influence Character Throughline StoryEncoding #3
Influence Character Domain & Concern
Hating People Who Whine & Being Forgotten by a Particular Group: Marissa Lamont is the kind of mother who hates when her children whine. So much so, that she will lock herself in her room, put noise-cancelling headphones on, and turn up the Anthrax until she can't hear it anymore. As a result, her children never learn to get along, the house is a battleground, and her hearing is shot. But there is something else…peace. That peace of mind she feels infects the other women in the neighborhood and they too begin to revel in the ecstasy of shutting everyone out. Husbands neglected, children undisciplined, and a general sense of breakdown of communications between people begins to occur. Marissa, and the women in her circle, want to be forgotten by those who demand so much from them. It causes those around her to feel deprived, uncared for, and ignored. But it also has the side effect of developing self-reliance in those she left behind. On the surface Lamont's influence is a disruptive element, but like most disruptive elements eventually turns to a beneficial and uplifting experience.
Influence Character Issue
Being a Source of Suspicion vs. Evidence: Marissa's antics are a source of suspicion amongst her fellow neighbors: what does she do behind those closed doors and what is she hiding from? That suspicion infects the neighborhood with gossip and distraction and a general lack of purpose as everyone finds themselves more interested in what Marissa is doing rather than what they should be doing (like paying bills, feeding the kids, and getting enough sleep for the next day).
Influence Character Symptom & Response
Being Philosophically Aligned with Something & Being Lost in Reverie about a Particular Group: Marissa believes the problem with most mothers these days is their philosophical alignment with suburban mores. Everyone is too caught up in aligning themselves with this idea of who they should be, rather than who they could be. Her response, and the response she has for so many of the women, is to become lost in reverie about long lost dreams, about that group of women they had planned to be as they were growing up. The only way to move past what you should be is to lose yourself in the dreams of what you used to want to be…
Influence Character Source of Drive
Seeing if Someone Truly Exists: Marissa Lamont is driven to see if this perfect suburban mother exists. She seeks her out in Internet chat rooms, in the grocery store, and even at school functions. Whenever she finds a woman she figure is the perfect woman, she approaches and begins breaking her down, asking insinuating questions and getting to the root of what that woman is really all about. Is she wearing that workout outfit because she is going to the gym as the perfect woman, or because she thinks she is supposed to be wearing a workout outfit to fit in. That drive to find what really exists cuts through the facade of suburban life and exposes these women for who they really are: hurt and put upon.
Influence Character DemotivatorCamouflaging a Particular Group: Even Marissa from time to time feels she has to hide and camouflage herself from her husband and her children, and when she does put on airs she manages to demotivate the other women around her and lessen her impact on the neighborhood.
Influence Character Benchmark
Reasoning: The more her children and husband try to reason with her, the more she grows concerned with the fact that they will never forget about her. That she will always be needed, and that she will never be able to live her dreams out. Communicating this to the other women allows them to see that simple reason will make it impossible for any of them to be forgotten.
Influence Character Signpost 1
Being Contemplative: When we first meet Marissa, she is at the head of the dinner table, children screaming, husband on his smart phone, expletives and food flying, a meal uneaten in front of her. Her daughter asks her a question and she seems distractive. “Just thinking, dear,” she tells her and returns back to her contemplation of the mashed potatoes in front of her. The contemplation confuses and intrigues her neighbor from down the street who stopped by for a drink. Marissa seems at such peace. “What is your secret?” She asks.
Influence Character Signpost 2
Having a Photographic Memory: Marissa inspires all the mothers around her when she begins to recite—from photographic memory—the exact imagery of each and every one of her children and even when her and her husband began first dating. The images play on the big screen TV, but Marissa has seen them all. Contrary to what the other husbands say about Marissa's strange behavior she hasn't forgotten or neglected her family—she remembers each and every detail about them. This inspires the women to return home and do the same.
Influence Character Signpost 3
Gagging at the Thought of Eating Oysters: The families arrive for a community cookout, a meal prepared by the husbands and by the children. The fathers present oysters to the women and Marissa begins gagging. Uncontrollably. It shocks and dismays everyone around them, but soon the other mothers turn away in disgust. It simply isn't good enough for them. Marissa shows them how to stand up for what you want, and to have that confidence that you deserve more.
Influence Character Signpost 4
Experiencing Rapture: The women of the neighborhood experience pure bliss as they shut out the world around them and indulge in their own personal happiness. Seventh heaven (the name of this story) kicks in as the women find peace refusing to compromise on their principals. Marissa reaches over, turns the knob on the Volume up to 10, and leans back in her chair and thinks to herself, “This is the life.”
Influence Character Throughline StoryEncoding #4Influence Character Domain & ConcernClashing Attitudes about Someone & Losing Something's Memories: Lilly Bonaparte grew up in a household centered around the patriarch of the family, Edward G. Bonaparte V. Treated like royalty his whole life, Edward had problem keeping his family in line and on track with his wishes and plans. Everyone that is…except Lily. At 13 she couldn't stand the old man and did whatever she could to disrupt their perfect little family. She would refuse to pray before dinner, refuse to do chores, refuse to come home before curfew, refuse to not date anyone older than her, and refuse to contribute in any meaningful way to the family. Suffice it to say, Lilly Bonaparte's attitudes towards her father angered him, brought anxiety to her mother, and threw the rest of her five siblings into constant brawls over who would take up her slack. At the heart of Lilly's concerns were the loss of the memory of Edward's mother, Valerie. Valerie was in the last stages of Parkinson's disease and was on the brink of losing all touch with reality—a travesty as far as far Lilly was concerned. And the idea that her father never visited Valerie or made any attempts to collect her memoirs or family's history devastated Lilly and drove her to label her father a miserable son who would only beget more miserable children and grandchildren. Effectively cursing the entire family lineage, Lilly brought turmoil and angst to the Bonaparte household with her efforts to keep Valerie and her more lenient ways of parenting alive.
Influence Character Issue
Being Suspicious of Someone vs. Evidence: Lilly's suspicion that father was doing all of this as a means of guaranteeing a larger inheritance only drove her to sneak into the old man's study and rifle through his things, hack into his computer, and reveal family secrets kept secret for a long time (like who was brother Austin's real mother). This suspicious attitude brought dissention and grief to the Bonaparte household and upset the tender balance Edward had worked his whole life to maintain.
Influence Character Symptom & Response
Being Known by a Particular Group & Brainstorming Something: Lilly believes the problem to be that the Bonaparte's are known as a perfect family, something to aspire to, and to look up to by the other families. This is, of course, a problem as their family is completely built on lies and the ego of one man. In response, Lilly works hard to brainstorm different means of bringing her father down—an approach that unnerves the other children, incites some of the others to rebel and talk back to their father, and begins a wave of rumors throughout their tightly knit neighborhood of friends.
Influence Character Source of Drive
Exploring Reality: Lilly's drive to explore the reality behind the Bonaparte family and Edward's real life growing up brings turmoil to the Bonaparte household. Let sleeping dogs lie is not something Lilly believes in and as a result the tender bond between Edward and Valerie is forever shattered, reducing the family inheritance, and bringing shame and embarrassment to the Bonaparte family in the eyes of the other neighbors. It, however, also has the positive effect of inspiring her siblings to stand up on their own and claim their own individuality within the family—a disruptive effect in the eyes of the patriarch, but a positive move from those oppressed by his ways.
Influence Character Demotivator
Seeing Someone from a Particular Perspective: When her siblings begin seeing their father in a different light, Lilly tends to back off, her mission accomplished.
Influence Character Benchmark
Considering Something: The more her siblings consider that their father is not the great man he makes himself out to be, the less concerned Lilly is with losing her grandmother's experiences…the other kids will see to it that no one forgets.
Influence Character Signpost 1
Being Conscious of Something: Lilly starts the story by making everyone in her family conscious of her father's affair seven years ago. Out of nowhere. No one was even talking about it, Lilly just interjected between Roger and Mary's stimulating conversation about the difference between stalactites and stalagmites. “You all know dear old father had an affair with Miss Torio seven years ago, don't you?” That one comment set off a wave of disappointment and chaos.
Influence Character Signpost 2
Thinking Back about a Particular Group: Lilly takes her three oldest brothers out on a hike and strikes up a conversation about how the Bonapartes used to be back in the day. She wonders if they can think back and remember how it was before Valerie became old and decrepit and if they recall a time when the family was more about joy and expression than it was about following rules and decorum. The boys do recall. One, Andrew the oldest, gets really upset and refuses to talk about it anymore. He heads home angered. The other two recall and promise Lilly to tell the others when they get back.
Influence Character Signpost 3
Reacting Spontaneously to Someone: Edward loses his cool in front of everyone when out to dinner. Lilly demands that an extra chair be set for Valerie, even though she can't make it, and that sends Edward over the edge. In front of his wife, his family, and the rest of the neighborhood in attendance at Dolario's, Edward flips out and starts cursing the very existence of Lilly. She simply sits back and smiles. “At least, “ she says. “My real father shows up.”
Influence Character Signpost 4
Being Infatuated with a Particular Group: The local reporter, a man in the booth next to the Bonapartes at Dolario's, becomes infatuated with the family and sets out to write the family's memoir—exposing Edward for the sniveling son he is and the abuse some children engage in towards aging and disabled parents. The reporters expose is met with unrivaled acclaim and soon the Bonaparte name becomes synonymous with parental abuse, particularly in the case of Parkinson's. The Bonaparte name is forever memorialized as something you would never want to associate your own family with.
Influence Character Throughline StoryEncoding #5
Influence Character Domain & Concern
Fearing Work & Remembering an Anniversary: Harold Fauntleroy is deathly afraid of work. Why commit yourself to a task you would never do if they didn't pay you? That is not what life is about, that's voluntary slavery! Unfortunately for Harold's wife and two sons his fear keeps them homeless, hungry, and hopeless. His wife must take on an extra job and her sons are left to fend for themselves while their parents are away. Of great concern to Harold is the anniversary of his father's passing away, which is coming up in a few weeks. His father never lived his life, never took a chance, and always did everything the way he was told to. As a result he died content…but an unhappy content. Harold remembers the look on his father's face when he told Harold his life was a waste and that look of emptiness scares Harold so much that he refuses to commit to anything lasting longer than a week or two. The Fauntleroys struggle as winter approaches and the thought of sleeping in their car becomes more and more a reality.
Influence Character Issue
Being Paranoid about Someone vs. Evidence: Harold's constant paranoia that his employer is trying to diminish his soul creates an uneasy work environment for those who work with him and inspires others to quit or possibly do less work so that they too can concentrate on their own art. The paranoia—while disruptive to those in charge—actually inspires great things in others. A woman who hadn't picked up a paint brush in 35 years begins painting her cubicle walls. A man who always wrote short stories begins taking afternoons off at the office to work on his masterpiece. Harold Fauntleroy brings out the best in others by being paranoid about the truth of those in charge.
Influence Character Symptom & Response
Being Ignorant & Considering Someone: Harold believes the biggest problem in the world is when people are ignorant. Ignorant of what is really going on around them and ignorant of what it is their heart truly desires. Harold sits down with each and every person and tells them that he considers them special. That he thinks about them. That he sees a unique individual capable of doing a great many things. The only thing they need to do is to get other people to start considering them. That's when they know they are on the right track.
Influence Character Source of Drive
Finding the Objective Reality of Someone: What excites Harold is finding the objective reality of the people he meets. Everyone he meets is hiding behind a mask, a false sense of themselves. Unearthing that truth, that reality that is there deep within each person unnerves those who have never stepped out of their comfort zone, and excites those who have dreamt of being so much more. Harold is all about reality. It may drive his wife crazy and his kids to become more fearful about what is happening with their family, but Harold is doing good work. He's bringing light to the world.
Influence Character Demotivator
Having a Slanted View on Something: Unfortunately, Harold's wife has her viewpoint on things and it does diminish his effectiveness from time to time. As committed as he is to truth, he does love his wife and hates to see her so nervous and anxious. Her slanted view on life and doing what others expect of you tempers Harold's drive and pulls him back occasionally from making huge gains.
Influence Character Benchmark
Considering Something: The more people consider doing something they have never done before, the less concerned Harold is with the anniversary of his father's death. It means there was a purpose behind it.
Influence Character Signpost 1
Starting a Think Tank: Harold begins to disrupt the universe the moment he requests a meeting room at work and begins to develop a think tank for creative endeavors. Inspired by Google's 5th day of personal projects, Harold starts brainstorming with the other employees how they too could make something more of themselves. This think tank upsets the employers, drives down productivity, and frightens stock holders. But it inspires the workers.
Influence Character Signpost 2
Thinking Back about Something: Harold pushes it farther when he gets those workers to begin to think back to when they were children and when they had dreams and no limitations. When the future seemed boundless. This thinking back inspires some of the workers—essential to the company's success-to quit to go follow their dreams. Harold is brought in and fired for his disruptive behavior.
Influence Character Signpost 3
Being Numb to Something: Harold's former employees act numb to threats from their employer. When brought in to a meeting to set rules and expectations and threats of firing, they act as if numb to the entire thing. Their heads are already in the clouds because of Harold and no amount of threat is ever going to change that.
Influence Character Signpost 4
Fearing Water: Fearing the rising tide of employee dissention created by Harold's persistent influence, the company decides to move its entire operation off-shore. Everyone is fired, but not a single person fears the consequences. They get in touch with Harold and he begins a new company—one that offers a chance for everyone to fulfill their true potential. In time, they all fulfill their greatest desires.
This article originally appeared on Jim's Narrative First website. Hundreds of insightful articles, like this one, can be found in the Article Archives. Want to learn how to generate story ideas the way explained this article? Join our Dramatica Mentorship Program and receive personalized instruction on how to master the Dramatica theory. Become a master storyteller. Learn more.
June 2016
Going with your first impression is usually a recipe for disaster when it comes to writing. Far too many times, the first thing we come up with is simply a rehash of something we have already seen or read. Pushing ourselves to move beyond our comfort zone opens up worlds of story we never even knew we had inside.
Following up on last month's article Generating an Abundance of Story Ideas, we take a look at the remaining three Playground Exercises. To recap, I was struggling to come up with concrete imaginative encodings for my Influence Character's Story Points. Instead of using Dramatica's insights to make my story bigger, I was simply parroting the different appreciations and making my story smaller in the process. I eventually decided to take my own advice and began working through a series of Playground Exercises that I created to help clients break through their usual creative ruts.
The effect was staggering and I felt it would be good to share my experience with writers and producers wondering how to use Dramatica to increase their level of creativity.
New Discoveries
Note how different these three are from the previous two and how far away I started to get from my original story idea. This is a very good thing. Instead of writing a story that was already in my head and–let's be honest–not particularly original, I started to head down a path that reflected more of my subconscious thoughts & desires rather than the subconscious of someone else.
By locking in the thematic meaning of the story with the storyform, I was able to stretch my imagination with the confidence that I wasn't wasting my time. I wasn't heading down another blind alleys I wasn't wasting my precious few hours a day writing chasing the wrong dog.
With Marissa I found a character who found peace shutting out the world around her. With the Bonaporte family I found the pain induced by trying to keep the memory of a family member alive. With Harold I found gold.
Getting Personal
Now Harold is about as far away from my original Stephen King-inspired story idea that I could get: a character who was so deathly afraid of factory-style work because of it hid the reality of one's true calling. That should feel authentic to you, more authentic than the guy who couldn't remember if he killed someone, and it should–because it is something very honest and true to my heart.
I had no idea deep down inside that this is what I felt. I mean, I knew it on a superficial level, but I didn't know my true feelings on the subject. By working through these Playground Exercises I was able to unearth something extremely personal to me–something honest and real. Something that I could really dive into and communicate from deep within my own consciousness and experience.
I almost left this last one out. It's a bit too revelatory and I was concerned about what my colleagues in the animation industry might think of my true feelings. But I guarantee many of them feel the same–as do many of you. We've all had jobs or careers that didn't sit right, didn't feel authentic. And by getting to that honesty my story will now end up connecting more deeply with those who read or see it.
People go to stories for truth, for shared experiences. By not concerning myself with thematic intention or this character's relation to the rest of the story, I ended up forming someone who reflected my deepest of intentions. What writer wouldn't want that?
Next week I'll cover the process of folding these five very different characters into one. You can pretty much be guaranteed that Harold will fit predominantly into that mix.
Influence Character Throughline StoryEncoding #3
Influence Character Domain & Concern
Hating People Who Whine & Being Forgotten by a Particular Group: Marissa Lamont is the kind of mother who hates when her children whine. So much so, that she will lock herself in her room, put noise-cancelling headphones on, and turn up the Anthrax until she can't hear it anymore. As a result, her children never learn to get along, the house is a battleground, and her hearing is shot. But there is something else…peace. That peace of mind she feels infects the other women in the neighborhood and they too begin to revel in the ecstasy of shutting everyone out. Husbands neglected, children undisciplined, and a general sense of breakdown of communications between people begins to occur. Marissa, and the women in her circle, want to be forgotten by those who demand so much from them. It causes those around her to feel deprived, uncared for, and ignored. But it also has the side effect of developing self-reliance in those she left behind. On the surface Lamont's influence is a disruptive element, but like most disruptive elements eventually turns to a beneficial and uplifting experience.
Influence Character Issue
Being a Source of Suspicion vs. Evidence: Marissa's antics are a source of suspicion amongst her fellow neighbors: what does she do behind those closed doors and what is she hiding from? That suspicion infects the neighborhood with gossip and distraction and a general lack of purpose as everyone finds themselves more interested in what Marissa is doing rather than what they should be doing (like paying bills, feeding the kids, and getting enough sleep for the next day).
Influence Character Symptom & Response
Being Philosophically Aligned with Something & Being Lost in Reverie about a Particular Group: Marissa believes the problem with most mothers these days is their philosophical alignment with suburban mores. Everyone is too caught up in aligning themselves with this idea of who they should be, rather than who they could be. Her response, and the response she has for so many of the women, is to become lost in reverie about long lost dreams, about that group of women they had planned to be as they were growing up. The only way to move past what you should be is to lose yourself in the dreams of what you used to want to be…
Influence Character Source of Drive
Seeing if Someone Truly Exists: Marissa Lamont is driven to see if this perfect suburban mother exists. She seeks her out in Internet chat rooms, in the grocery store, and even at school functions. Whenever she finds a woman she figure is the perfect woman, she approaches and begins breaking her down, asking insinuating questions and getting to the root of what that woman is really all about. Is she wearing that workout outfit because she is going to the gym as the perfect woman, or because she thinks she is supposed to be wearing a workout outfit to fit in. That drive to find what really exists cuts through the facade of suburban life and exposes these women for who they really are: hurt and put upon.
Influence Character DemotivatorCamouflaging a Particular Group: Even Marissa from time to time feels she has to hide and camouflage herself from her husband and her children, and when she does put on airs she manages to demotivate the other women around her and lessen her impact on the neighborhood.
Influence Character Benchmark
Reasoning: The more her children and husband try to reason with her, the more she grows concerned with the fact that they will never forget about her. That she will always be needed, and that she will never be able to live her dreams out. Communicating this to the other women allows them to see that simple reason will make it impossible for any of them to be forgotten.
Influence Character Signpost 1
Being Contemplative: When we first meet Marissa, she is at the head of the dinner table, children screaming, husband on his smart phone, expletives and food flying, a meal uneaten in front of her. Her daughter asks her a question and she seems distractive. “Just thinking, dear,” she tells her and returns back to her contemplation of the mashed potatoes in front of her. The contemplation confuses and intrigues her neighbor from down the street who stopped by for a drink. Marissa seems at such peace. “What is your secret?” She asks.
Influence Character Signpost 2
Having a Photographic Memory: Marissa inspires all the mothers around her when she begins to recite—from photographic memory—the exact imagery of each and every one of her children and even when her and her husband began first dating. The images play on the big screen TV, but Marissa has seen them all. Contrary to what the other husbands say about Marissa's strange behavior she hasn't forgotten or neglected her family—she remembers each and every detail about them. This inspires the women to return home and do the same.
Influence Character Signpost 3
Gagging at the Thought of Eating Oysters: The families arrive for a community cookout, a meal prepared by the husbands and by the children. The fathers present oysters to the women and Marissa begins gagging. Uncontrollably. It shocks and dismays everyone around them, but soon the other mothers turn away in disgust. It simply isn't good enough for them. Marissa shows them how to stand up for what you want, and to have that confidence that you deserve more.
Influence Character Signpost 4
Experiencing Rapture: The women of the neighborhood experience pure bliss as they shut out the world around them and indulge in their own personal happiness. Seventh heaven (the name of this story) kicks in as the women find peace refusing to compromise on their principals. Marissa reaches over, turns the knob on the Volume up to 10, and leans back in her chair and thinks to herself, “This is the life.”
Influence Character Throughline StoryEncoding #4Influence Character Domain & ConcernClashing Attitudes about Someone & Losing Something's Memories: Lilly Bonaparte grew up in a household centered around the patriarch of the family, Edward G. Bonaparte V. Treated like royalty his whole life, Edward had problem keeping his family in line and on track with his wishes and plans. Everyone that is…except Lily. At 13 she couldn't stand the old man and did whatever she could to disrupt their perfect little family. She would refuse to pray before dinner, refuse to do chores, refuse to come home before curfew, refuse to not date anyone older than her, and refuse to contribute in any meaningful way to the family. Suffice it to say, Lilly Bonaparte's attitudes towards her father angered him, brought anxiety to her mother, and threw the rest of her five siblings into constant brawls over who would take up her slack. At the heart of Lilly's concerns were the loss of the memory of Edward's mother, Valerie. Valerie was in the last stages of Parkinson's disease and was on the brink of losing all touch with reality—a travesty as far as far Lilly was concerned. And the idea that her father never visited Valerie or made any attempts to collect her memoirs or family's history devastated Lilly and drove her to label her father a miserable son who would only beget more miserable children and grandchildren. Effectively cursing the entire family lineage, Lilly brought turmoil and angst to the Bonaparte household with her efforts to keep Valerie and her more lenient ways of parenting alive.
Influence Character Issue
Being Suspicious of Someone vs. Evidence: Lilly's suspicion that father was doing all of this as a means of guaranteeing a larger inheritance only drove her to sneak into the old man's study and rifle through his things, hack into his computer, and reveal family secrets kept secret for a long time (like who was brother Austin's real mother). This suspicious attitude brought dissention and grief to the Bonaparte household and upset the tender balance Edward had worked his whole life to maintain.
Influence Character Symptom & Response
Being Known by a Particular Group & Brainstorming Something: Lilly believes the problem to be that the Bonaparte's are known as a perfect family, something to aspire to, and to look up to by the other families. This is, of course, a problem as their family is completely built on lies and the ego of one man. In response, Lilly works hard to brainstorm different means of bringing her father down—an approach that unnerves the other children, incites some of the others to rebel and talk back to their father, and begins a wave of rumors throughout their tightly knit neighborhood of friends.
Influence Character Source of Drive
Exploring Reality: Lilly's drive to explore the reality behind the Bonaparte family and Edward's real life growing up brings turmoil to the Bonaparte household. Let sleeping dogs lie is not something Lilly believes in and as a result the tender bond between Edward and Valerie is forever shattered, reducing the family inheritance, and bringing shame and embarrassment to the Bonaparte family in the eyes of the other neighbors. It, however, also has the positive effect of inspiring her siblings to stand up on their own and claim their own individuality within the family—a disruptive effect in the eyes of the patriarch, but a positive move from those oppressed by his ways.
Influence Character Demotivator
Seeing Someone from a Particular Perspective: When her siblings begin seeing their father in a different light, Lilly tends to back off, her mission accomplished.
Influence Character Benchmark
Considering Something: The more her siblings consider that their father is not the great man he makes himself out to be, the less concerned Lilly is with losing her grandmother's experiences…the other kids will see to it that no one forgets.
Influence Character Signpost 1
Being Conscious of Something: Lilly starts the story by making everyone in her family conscious of her father's affair seven years ago. Out of nowhere. No one was even talking about it, Lilly just interjected between Roger and Mary's stimulating conversation about the difference between stalactites and stalagmites. “You all know dear old father had an affair with Miss Torio seven years ago, don't you?” That one comment set off a wave of disappointment and chaos.
Influence Character Signpost 2
Thinking Back about a Particular Group: Lilly takes her three oldest brothers out on a hike and strikes up a conversation about how the Bonapartes used to be back in the day. She wonders if they can think back and remember how it was before Valerie became old and decrepit and if they recall a time when the family was more about joy and expression than it was about following rules and decorum. The boys do recall. One, Andrew the oldest, gets really upset and refuses to talk about it anymore. He heads home angered. The other two recall and promise Lilly to tell the others when they get back.
Influence Character Signpost 3
Reacting Spontaneously to Someone: Edward loses his cool in front of everyone when out to dinner. Lilly demands that an extra chair be set for Valerie, even though she can't make it, and that sends Edward over the edge. In front of his wife, his family, and the rest of the neighborhood in attendance at Dolario's, Edward flips out and starts cursing the very existence of Lilly. She simply sits back and smiles. “At least, “ she says. “My real father shows up.”
Influence Character Signpost 4
Being Infatuated with a Particular Group: The local reporter, a man in the booth next to the Bonapartes at Dolario's, becomes infatuated with the family and sets out to write the family's memoir—exposing Edward for the sniveling son he is and the abuse some children engage in towards aging and disabled parents. The reporters expose is met with unrivaled acclaim and soon the Bonaparte name becomes synonymous with parental abuse, particularly in the case of Parkinson's. The Bonaparte name is forever memorialized as something you would never want to associate your own family with.
Influence Character Throughline StoryEncoding #5
Influence Character Domain & Concern
Fearing Work & Remembering an Anniversary: Harold Fauntleroy is deathly afraid of work. Why commit yourself to a task you would never do if they didn't pay you? That is not what life is about, that's voluntary slavery! Unfortunately for Harold's wife and two sons his fear keeps them homeless, hungry, and hopeless. His wife must take on an extra job and her sons are left to fend for themselves while their parents are away. Of great concern to Harold is the anniversary of his father's passing away, which is coming up in a few weeks. His father never lived his life, never took a chance, and always did everything the way he was told to. As a result he died content…but an unhappy content. Harold remembers the look on his father's face when he told Harold his life was a waste and that look of emptiness scares Harold so much that he refuses to commit to anything lasting longer than a week or two. The Fauntleroys struggle as winter approaches and the thought of sleeping in their car becomes more and more a reality.
Influence Character Issue
Being Paranoid about Someone vs. Evidence: Harold's constant paranoia that his employer is trying to diminish his soul creates an uneasy work environment for those who work with him and inspires others to quit or possibly do less work so that they too can concentrate on their own art. The paranoia—while disruptive to those in charge—actually inspires great things in others. A woman who hadn't picked up a paint brush in 35 years begins painting her cubicle walls. A man who always wrote short stories begins taking afternoons off at the office to work on his masterpiece. Harold Fauntleroy brings out the best in others by being paranoid about the truth of those in charge.
Influence Character Symptom & Response
Being Ignorant & Considering Someone: Harold believes the biggest problem in the world is when people are ignorant. Ignorant of what is really going on around them and ignorant of what it is their heart truly desires. Harold sits down with each and every person and tells them that he considers them special. That he thinks about them. That he sees a unique individual capable of doing a great many things. The only thing they need to do is to get other people to start considering them. That's when they know they are on the right track.
Influence Character Source of Drive
Finding the Objective Reality of Someone: What excites Harold is finding the objective reality of the people he meets. Everyone he meets is hiding behind a mask, a false sense of themselves. Unearthing that truth, that reality that is there deep within each person unnerves those who have never stepped out of their comfort zone, and excites those who have dreamt of being so much more. Harold is all about reality. It may drive his wife crazy and his kids to become more fearful about what is happening with their family, but Harold is doing good work. He's bringing light to the world.
Influence Character Demotivator
Having a Slanted View on Something: Unfortunately, Harold's wife has her viewpoint on things and it does diminish his effectiveness from time to time. As committed as he is to truth, he does love his wife and hates to see her so nervous and anxious. Her slanted view on life and doing what others expect of you tempers Harold's drive and pulls him back occasionally from making huge gains.
Influence Character Benchmark
Considering Something: The more people consider doing something they have never done before, the less concerned Harold is with the anniversary of his father's death. It means there was a purpose behind it.
Influence Character Signpost 1
Starting a Think Tank: Harold begins to disrupt the universe the moment he requests a meeting room at work and begins to develop a think tank for creative endeavors. Inspired by Google's 5th day of personal projects, Harold starts brainstorming with the other employees how they too could make something more of themselves. This think tank upsets the employers, drives down productivity, and frightens stock holders. But it inspires the workers.
Influence Character Signpost 2
Thinking Back about Something: Harold pushes it farther when he gets those workers to begin to think back to when they were children and when they had dreams and no limitations. When the future seemed boundless. This thinking back inspires some of the workers—essential to the company's success-to quit to go follow their dreams. Harold is brought in and fired for his disruptive behavior.
Influence Character Signpost 3
Being Numb to Something: Harold's former employees act numb to threats from their employer. When brought in to a meeting to set rules and expectations and threats of firing, they act as if numb to the entire thing. Their heads are already in the clouds because of Harold and no amount of threat is ever going to change that.
Influence Character Signpost 4
Fearing Water: Fearing the rising tide of employee dissention created by Harold's persistent influence, the company decides to move its entire operation off-shore. Everyone is fired, but not a single person fears the consequences. They get in touch with Harold and he begins a new company—one that offers a chance for everyone to fulfill their true potential. In time, they all fulfill their greatest desires.
This article originally appeared on Jim's Narrative First website. Hundreds of insightful articles, like this one, can be found in the Article Archives. Want to learn how to generate story ideas the way explained this article? Join our Dramatica Mentorship Program and receive personalized instruction on how to master the Dramatica theory. Become a master storyteller. Learn more.
Generating an Abundance of Story Ideas
May 2016
Too many times writers find themselves stuck without an inkling of where to go next. They write themselves into corners or run out of steam on that great idea that they thought would carry them through the end. Having an understanding of what it is you want to say and a framework for capturing that intent can go a long way towards preventing what many call writer's block.
Many see the Dramatica theory of story as a great analysis tool, something to be used to examine what worked and what didn't work. What they fail to realize is that Dramatica is also a great creativity tool. By listening to what it is you want to say with your story, Dramatica can offer insight and suggestions to round out your story and make it feel more complete.
The Playground ExercisesYou know that writing tip that suggests coming up with twenty different ideas in order to get to one original one? The idea being that your first, your fifth, and even your fifteenth idea is really just a superficial rehash of something you have already seen or have already thought. Once you vomit out all the obvious choices your writer's intuition starts coming up with brand new and novel ideas that take your writing to the next level.
The Narrative First Playground Exercises were inspired by this process. The generation of several different Throughlines with slightly different storytelling grants an Author a playground from which to explore the deep thematic meaning present in their story. Even my own story.
My StoryWorking my way through the Playground Exercises for my current writing project, I was amazed by the abundance of creativity I experienced in only a few hours. Averaging about 25 minutes per Playground, I managed to flesh out five completely different and potential Influence Characters for my story. That's five fully functional and thematically integrated characters all before lunchtime.
Sounds exciting, right?
Inspired by something Dramatica co-creator Chris Huntley mentioned to me, I created the Playground Exercises late last Summer as a means to better understand the Main Character in the story I was working on. I was continuously running into a roadblock with this character and couldn't figure out why she seemed so small in comparison to the rest of the story.
By brainstorming ideas for characters dealing with the same thematic material as my Main Characters, I was able to concentrate on the essence of the Throughline–the meaty, thematic stuff–instead of futzing around wondering how it would fit into my story. The process was, and is, freeing and productive and often produces ideas for new and completely different stories.
There is a right way and a wrong way to do them and very often when working with clients they start out with the latter approach. This is a shared mistake brought about by the common misunderstanding that the Dramatica storyform presents storytelling material, rather than storyforming material.
The Storyform as a Source of ConflictMany look to Dramatica and think it is a story-by-numbers approach. They think you flip a few switches and Dramatica spits out a preformed story. When they see a Main Character Concern of the Past they think, Oh, Roger is worried about the Past. or when they see a Main Character Problem of Feeling they think, Oh, Roger is the kind of person who feels a lot of mixed emotions.
This is not proper StoryEncoding. This is using the Appreciation as storytelling, rather than using it as a means to form a story.
A Main Character Concern of the Past means the Main Character experiences conflict because of the Past. Sure, he or she may be worried about the Past, but this worry doesn't set into motion a story. Instead, a Main Character who is so concerned with how great things used to be that they return to their high-school summer job at 42, start working out how to impress their teenage daughter's girlfriend, and start buying drugs from the neighbor next door to feel young again DOES set a story into motion. In fact, it sounds an awful lot like American Beauty doesn't it? Kevin Spacey's character Lester Burnham does have a Concern of the Past, but it's more than an indicator of worry, it's a generator of conflict.
Likewise, a Main Character Problem of Feeling means the Main Character experiences conflict because of Feeling. Of course this means they will "feel a lot of mixed emotions" but then again, what kind of character doesn't? Instead, a Main Character who is so overwhelmed by strange and uncomfortable emotions that they will pummel anyone who brings those emotions out DOES set a story into motion. In fact this was the problem Ennis Del Mar (Heath Ledger) suffered in Brokeback Mountain. His inability to process his Feelings with the evidence he had of the torture and murder of a man who embraced similar emotions drove him to a life spent in denial and personal anguish.
This is the first rule of the Playground Exercises: Do not use the Appreciation (or Gist) as storytelling, but rather as a source of conflict.
Looking for Conflict in the Right ThroughlineOne should always look to each of these appreciations and ask, How is this a problem? While they have fancy names like Domain and Concern and Issue, really they're just different magnifications of the same thing: conflict. The Domain is the largest, most broadest way to describe an area of conflict; the Concern is the next smallest and the Issue even smaller. The Problem is the smallest way to describe a Problem (can't go much smaller than that!).
So when working through these appreciations and random Gists I simply ask myself, How is this a source of conflict for this Throughline? Each Throughline will have a slightly different question. The Main Character is very experiential and personal and typically the easiest to write. In contrast, the Influence Character is all about the impact or influence that character has on the world around them. When writing these I always made sure to write a character who created all kinds of havoc around them and for others because of who they were and what they were driven to do. This brings up the second rule.
The second rule when doing these Playground Exercises is to ignore the other Throughlines. Don't worry about them. I don't care one bit how the Influence Characters I come up with are going to impact the Main Character of my story because in the end, the storyform will make sure this character impacts the Main Character.
In my story the Main Character has a Concern of the Past and the Influence Character has a Concern of Memories. Right there, the impact is set. The Main Character in my story will naturally be impacted by this Influence Character because my Main Character is personally dealing with The Past–she can't help but be influenced by this strange thing known as "Memories".
Concentrate on getting the StoryEncoding strong for an Influence Character who impacts others through their Concern and the storyform will naturally impact the Main Character regardless of what you come up with.
Generating an Abundance of IdeasHow does this process work? This is the Influence Character Throughline section of my storyform for my latest project:
Influence Character Throughline
Domain: Fixed Attitude
Concern: Memories
Issue: Suspicion vs. Evidence
Problem: Actuality
Solution: Perception
Symptom: Knowledge
Response: Thought
Benchmark: Contemplations
Signpost 1: Contemplations
Signpost 2: Memories
Signpost 3: Impulsive Reponses
Signpost 4: Innermost Desires
I have no problem sharing this with you as no one really owns a storyform. How I interpret and encode a storyform will be completely different than the way you do. That's what makes us unique and awesome.
Originally I was really excited about this storyform because it perfectly matched up with my story idea: that of a friend who wakes up a murder suspect, yet has no recollection of what they did the night before. The storyform above looked perfect for what I wanted to do: a Concern of Memories (he couldn't remember what happened), an Issue of Suspicion (everyone suspected him of killing), a Problem of Actuality (he actually killed the person!)–all of these seemed to really work great for the story I wanted to tell.
But when I went to actually write the thing the story kind of collapsed in on itself. I kept repeating myself with the Influence Character and he came off as kind of one-dimensional. What was worse was that he really didn't have any kind of effect or impact on the Main Character–she changed her resolve because I needed her to for the story, not because this other character challenged her to do so.
I resisted and resisted and put off doing my own Playground Exercises because I figured I was above all that. After all, twenty years of experience with Dramatica I should know what I'm doing, right? Turns out, I was short-changing my own writing process. By refusing to do what I had seen work wonders so many times before, I was keeping myself from writing a thematically rich and compelling story.
So I generated five different Influence Character Throughlines with the same storyform you see above by using Dramatica's Brainstorming feature. With this feature you can lock in the storyform and then randomize the Gists, or approximation of the story points, to keep the storytelling fresh and unique. I copied them over into Quip–the same app I use to work with clients–and then began brainstorming completely different Influence Characters. Different situations. Different genres. Different genders. But at the heart of them–the same thematic concerns of narrative.
Here are two of them. Note how disparate in storytelling, yet similar in thematic intent, they are. Note how every appreciation generates conflict and doesn't use the Gist as simply a storytelling prompt. There are moments when I start out using it as storytelling, but then quickly move it into a source for conflict.
Note too how I start out writing something somewhat similar to my original idea. This is how the Playground Exercise works–it lets you dump out your first thoughts and then forces you to stretch and become something more than you were before you started. You know the old adage You can't solve a problem with the same mind that created it? That is precisely what we're doing here–transforming minds to become better writers.
You should be able to see the magic that is the Playground Exercises and of the Dramatica storyform for generating new and wonderful characters. In the next article I'll present more examples and explain how I take these exercises and use them to craft a fully fleshed out and developed character for my story.
Influence Character Throughline StoryEncoding Example #1Influence Character Domain & ConcernBeing in a Special Group & Reminiscing about Someone: Roger, a 16-year old autistic boy, challenges the people around him with his strange behavior and demanding personality. To know Roger is to constantly be on edge, always fearful of saying the wrong thing, and always careful to make sure his every need is met—even before he asks for it. The result is an uneasy environment around Roger; people rarely take risks if they fear repercussions and Roger is full of them.
To make matters worse, Roger spends an inordinate amount of time reminiscing about Plato, his favorite stuffed animal from when he was three. Roger sorely misses Plato and often wakes the family up late at night crying for him or creeps them out when they're awake by hugging a pillow and pretending it is his long lost friend. His constant reminiscing reminds everyone how stuck Roger is and how, because he is different from everyone else, they need to be careful not to hurt his feelings. Unfortunately this has the opposite effect on the kids at school where the focus on a stuffed animal often leads to bullying and after-school fights.
Influence Character IssueBeing a Suspect in a Murder Case vs. Evidence: Strangely enough, Roger is also a suspect in a murder case. Whether a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time or simply as a matter of his condition, everyone suspects the worst of Roger and treats him like a pariah. No one will sit next to him at school, he frightens the timid girls on the bus, and dinners at home are an uneasy and unpleasant experience. The evidence is there on Roger's blood-stained hands and sheets, but no one knows if that is simply an autistic kid looking for attention or if it truly does speak of a murderous personality. The uneasy feeling he creates in others leads his family members to second-guess opportunities to leave and forces them to support him—no matter how badly they don't want to–as they fear for their own lives.
Influence Character Symptom & ResponseBeing Philosophically Aligned against Something & Being Contemplative: Roger thinks the problem with the world today is that everyone spends too much time aligning themselves against that which they fear. It is so much easier taking the opposite position of the unknown then it is stepping out and trying something new. Roger refuses to give in to the "smaller" life and spends his waking hours contemplating different states of existence—all of which challenges those around him to improve their own way of thinking and to see the world differently. In short, he forces the people he comes into contact to deal with their own doubts and fears—something many would rather avoid doing.
Influence Character Source of DriveExploring Reality: Roger gets most worked up when he witnesses people consumed with the reality of day-to-day life. Paying taxes, working a job, and living the life of a city dweller causes him to lash out and publicly deride those who do. Why would anyone accept the reality given to them? To be a sheep and not step out of the bounds of normal existence, that is the problem with the non-autistic creature. His refusal to accept reality insults girls attracted to him, humiliates home economics teachers, and forces his family into working extra hours to make up for the work Roger himself has lost.
Influence Character DemotivatorKeeping Up Someone's Appearances: Roger loses himself when he becomes more concerned with keeping up appearances at the workplace or in a public restaurant. Those few rare moments when he stops being "special" and works to fit in—that's when the conflict dies around him and his friends and family can finally breathe a momentary sigh of relief.
Influence Character BenchmarkWondering about Something: The more Roger wonders about the meaning of life, the more he reminisces about Plato and about the loss of his only true friend. Relationships are but a fabrication of our own minds, he believes. Ultimately transitive in nature and completely made up.
Influence Character Signpost 1Concentrating on Something: We first see Roger standing in the middle of traffic contemplating a giant crack in the road. When questioned, Roger states that he sees more than anyone else ever could. It isn't just a crack because the more he thinks about it and the more he looks at it, the more glorious and beautiful it becomes. The artistry and majesty of the ripples and torn asphalt is a thing of beauty.
Influence Character Signpost 2Being Memorialized by Something: Roger gets up in arms when the board refuses to memorialize his favorite 2nd grade teacher Mr. Donovan. Mr. Donovan was the kindest most gentlest teacher who spent every a couple minutes every morning reminding Roger how awesome he was and how much he enjoyed his company. To refuse to memorialize this man is to refuse to recognize the beauty of the universe and an attempt by the great unwashed to remain asleep.
Influence Character Signpost 3Being Oversensitive to Something: Losing touch with reality, Roger's anxiety rages as he expresses his oversensitivity to touch and sound. The loud sounds of the city frighten him and cause him to scream and react in a way that terrifies children walking down the street. In addition, he screams terror when his family members try and hug him and show him affection.
Influence Character Signpost 4Being a Heartbreaker: Roger comes to the conclusion that small-minded people are the problem and he rejects his girlfriend of several months. He shows no signs of sadness, no signs of remorse, just a complete loss of feeling for anyone around him. To be attached to someone is to remain shackled in the world of the normal. That is why he will never ever forget about Plato—Plato was more than what he was…and that's precisely how Roger wants to live his life.
Influence Character Throughline StoryEncoding Example #2Influence Character Domain & ConcernHero Worshipping & Being Memorialized by Someone: Tay Nguyen is the world's biggest Hunger Games fanboy. At 63 years of age he creeps out the teenage girls at comic book conventions, angers his wife who wants to go on cruises around the world, and empties out his bank account and the money saved up for his children so that he can buy more and more merchandise and cosplay outfits. Up until now, Tay has not amounted to much of anything. 43 years as a sanitation worker really hasn't left much of a mark on the world. He wants to be memorialized by becoming so famous the Author has to write a part for him in the next book. This obsession to be remembered causes him to make a fool of himself and his grandchildren at a mall appearance, frightens the Author when she catches him spying outside her window late at night, and creates riots amongst other fans as they feel Tay is ruining their beloved series. Tay is a royal pain-in the-ass.
Influence Character IssueBeing Someone's Suspect vs. Evidence: To make matters worse, the Author starts to suspect that Tay might be her muse. Stuck with writer's block these past months, she begins to think Tay might be the answer to all her problems…which ends up delaying the book even longer (she wants to spend more time with Tay to get to know him), angers fans to the point of vandalizing the Author's house (since they don't want Tay to have anything to do with it), and sets the publishing world into chaos as many more Author's begin to suspect that their writing is missing something when they realize they don't have their own personal Tay.
Influence Character Symptom & ResponseBeing Ignorant of Something & Acting Without Thought: Tay sees the world's problems as revolving around their ignorance of the themes behind Hunger Games and of the strength and courage of its central character. The world can be so ignorant sometimes and can so easily discount something that could truly help them. Tay's response is to act with little consideration given to what he is doing, and to simply go with the flow. As that is what Katniss would do.
Influence Character Source of DriveFinding the Objective Reality of Something: Tay swings into action anytime someone tries to find objective reality in the Hunger Games and in particular its fandom. Anytime a news reporter tries to deconstruct the fiction and true motivation behind its deepest fans, Tay leaps into battle and starts tearing down the foundation of most everyone's reality. Stories are life, Tay believes; they help us understand our lives better and give us real solutions to our problems. Nobody can make sense of real life—it doesn't have the same purpose a story does. This breakdown of reality, of course, encourages the Author and other Authors to spend more time diving into their own self-consciousness (through drugs and other means) rather than actually get down to the business of writing.
Influence Character DemotivatorMisperceiving a Particular Group: When reporters and locals begin misperceiving Hunger Games fans as sad and pathetic and lonely people, Tay begins taking time proving to everyone else what great people they are. This sounds more like justification and all it does is make these people, including the Author behind the Hunger Games and other Authors discount Tay and the other fans as lunatics.
Influence Character BenchmarkConsidering Something: The more people start to consider that their lives are mere fiction, the less Tay cares about being memorialized…it's already happening.
Influence Character Signpost 1Being Preoccupied with Something: When we first meet Tay is preoccupied with his latest cosplay for the convention this weekend. His wife tries to speak to him, his grandchildren come to visit, nobody—and I mean nobody—can seem to get through to him. Tay is in his own little world and he ruins the plans the family had for that week and challenges his wife's patience as he sits there and compares his outfit to images on the Internet.
Influence Character Signpost 2Being Memorialized by Something: Tay is set to receive the official Hunger Games Greatest Fan award from the Author of the Hunger Games. As he begins to give his acceptance speech, boos and jeers start to rise up from the audience. He sends the crowd into turmoil when he mentions that the Author herself has promised to create a character based on him for the next book.
Influence Character Signpost 3Being Spontaneous: The Author, spurred on by Tay's influence, begins spouting out inane nonsense at her next interview on Good Morning America. The Author is simply riffing on the cuff (something Tay convinced him of), but she angers and upsets the people outside, embarrasses the interviewer on GMA, and basically ruins the ending of the next book by just letting it out.
Influence Character Signpost 4Fearing a Particular Number: Tay refuses to enter the offices of the editor for the Author's next book because he doesn't trust the street address: they are the same exact numbers used to signify the evil overlords in the original Hunger Games episode. He ends up missing out on being included in the next book because he is so consumed by the fiction of it all that he steps away and returns home.
This article originally appeared on Narrative First—fine suppliers of expert story advice. Want to become a master writer with Dramatica? Join the other novelists, screenwriters, and playwrights who have taken our Dramatica® Mentorship Program and knock out stories with as little as one or two drafts.
May 2016
Too many times writers find themselves stuck without an inkling of where to go next. They write themselves into corners or run out of steam on that great idea that they thought would carry them through the end. Having an understanding of what it is you want to say and a framework for capturing that intent can go a long way towards preventing what many call writer's block.
Many see the Dramatica theory of story as a great analysis tool, something to be used to examine what worked and what didn't work. What they fail to realize is that Dramatica is also a great creativity tool. By listening to what it is you want to say with your story, Dramatica can offer insight and suggestions to round out your story and make it feel more complete.
The Playground ExercisesYou know that writing tip that suggests coming up with twenty different ideas in order to get to one original one? The idea being that your first, your fifth, and even your fifteenth idea is really just a superficial rehash of something you have already seen or have already thought. Once you vomit out all the obvious choices your writer's intuition starts coming up with brand new and novel ideas that take your writing to the next level.
The Narrative First Playground Exercises were inspired by this process. The generation of several different Throughlines with slightly different storytelling grants an Author a playground from which to explore the deep thematic meaning present in their story. Even my own story.
My StoryWorking my way through the Playground Exercises for my current writing project, I was amazed by the abundance of creativity I experienced in only a few hours. Averaging about 25 minutes per Playground, I managed to flesh out five completely different and potential Influence Characters for my story. That's five fully functional and thematically integrated characters all before lunchtime.
Sounds exciting, right?
Inspired by something Dramatica co-creator Chris Huntley mentioned to me, I created the Playground Exercises late last Summer as a means to better understand the Main Character in the story I was working on. I was continuously running into a roadblock with this character and couldn't figure out why she seemed so small in comparison to the rest of the story.
By brainstorming ideas for characters dealing with the same thematic material as my Main Characters, I was able to concentrate on the essence of the Throughline–the meaty, thematic stuff–instead of futzing around wondering how it would fit into my story. The process was, and is, freeing and productive and often produces ideas for new and completely different stories.
There is a right way and a wrong way to do them and very often when working with clients they start out with the latter approach. This is a shared mistake brought about by the common misunderstanding that the Dramatica storyform presents storytelling material, rather than storyforming material.
The Storyform as a Source of ConflictMany look to Dramatica and think it is a story-by-numbers approach. They think you flip a few switches and Dramatica spits out a preformed story. When they see a Main Character Concern of the Past they think, Oh, Roger is worried about the Past. or when they see a Main Character Problem of Feeling they think, Oh, Roger is the kind of person who feels a lot of mixed emotions.
This is not proper StoryEncoding. This is using the Appreciation as storytelling, rather than using it as a means to form a story.
A Main Character Concern of the Past means the Main Character experiences conflict because of the Past. Sure, he or she may be worried about the Past, but this worry doesn't set into motion a story. Instead, a Main Character who is so concerned with how great things used to be that they return to their high-school summer job at 42, start working out how to impress their teenage daughter's girlfriend, and start buying drugs from the neighbor next door to feel young again DOES set a story into motion. In fact, it sounds an awful lot like American Beauty doesn't it? Kevin Spacey's character Lester Burnham does have a Concern of the Past, but it's more than an indicator of worry, it's a generator of conflict.
Likewise, a Main Character Problem of Feeling means the Main Character experiences conflict because of Feeling. Of course this means they will "feel a lot of mixed emotions" but then again, what kind of character doesn't? Instead, a Main Character who is so overwhelmed by strange and uncomfortable emotions that they will pummel anyone who brings those emotions out DOES set a story into motion. In fact this was the problem Ennis Del Mar (Heath Ledger) suffered in Brokeback Mountain. His inability to process his Feelings with the evidence he had of the torture and murder of a man who embraced similar emotions drove him to a life spent in denial and personal anguish.
This is the first rule of the Playground Exercises: Do not use the Appreciation (or Gist) as storytelling, but rather as a source of conflict.
Looking for Conflict in the Right ThroughlineOne should always look to each of these appreciations and ask, How is this a problem? While they have fancy names like Domain and Concern and Issue, really they're just different magnifications of the same thing: conflict. The Domain is the largest, most broadest way to describe an area of conflict; the Concern is the next smallest and the Issue even smaller. The Problem is the smallest way to describe a Problem (can't go much smaller than that!).
So when working through these appreciations and random Gists I simply ask myself, How is this a source of conflict for this Throughline? Each Throughline will have a slightly different question. The Main Character is very experiential and personal and typically the easiest to write. In contrast, the Influence Character is all about the impact or influence that character has on the world around them. When writing these I always made sure to write a character who created all kinds of havoc around them and for others because of who they were and what they were driven to do. This brings up the second rule.
The second rule when doing these Playground Exercises is to ignore the other Throughlines. Don't worry about them. I don't care one bit how the Influence Characters I come up with are going to impact the Main Character of my story because in the end, the storyform will make sure this character impacts the Main Character.
In my story the Main Character has a Concern of the Past and the Influence Character has a Concern of Memories. Right there, the impact is set. The Main Character in my story will naturally be impacted by this Influence Character because my Main Character is personally dealing with The Past–she can't help but be influenced by this strange thing known as "Memories".
Concentrate on getting the StoryEncoding strong for an Influence Character who impacts others through their Concern and the storyform will naturally impact the Main Character regardless of what you come up with.
Generating an Abundance of IdeasHow does this process work? This is the Influence Character Throughline section of my storyform for my latest project:
Influence Character Throughline
Domain: Fixed Attitude
Concern: Memories
Issue: Suspicion vs. Evidence
Problem: Actuality
Solution: Perception
Symptom: Knowledge
Response: Thought
Benchmark: Contemplations
Signpost 1: Contemplations
Signpost 2: Memories
Signpost 3: Impulsive Reponses
Signpost 4: Innermost Desires
I have no problem sharing this with you as no one really owns a storyform. How I interpret and encode a storyform will be completely different than the way you do. That's what makes us unique and awesome.
Originally I was really excited about this storyform because it perfectly matched up with my story idea: that of a friend who wakes up a murder suspect, yet has no recollection of what they did the night before. The storyform above looked perfect for what I wanted to do: a Concern of Memories (he couldn't remember what happened), an Issue of Suspicion (everyone suspected him of killing), a Problem of Actuality (he actually killed the person!)–all of these seemed to really work great for the story I wanted to tell.
But when I went to actually write the thing the story kind of collapsed in on itself. I kept repeating myself with the Influence Character and he came off as kind of one-dimensional. What was worse was that he really didn't have any kind of effect or impact on the Main Character–she changed her resolve because I needed her to for the story, not because this other character challenged her to do so.
I resisted and resisted and put off doing my own Playground Exercises because I figured I was above all that. After all, twenty years of experience with Dramatica I should know what I'm doing, right? Turns out, I was short-changing my own writing process. By refusing to do what I had seen work wonders so many times before, I was keeping myself from writing a thematically rich and compelling story.
So I generated five different Influence Character Throughlines with the same storyform you see above by using Dramatica's Brainstorming feature. With this feature you can lock in the storyform and then randomize the Gists, or approximation of the story points, to keep the storytelling fresh and unique. I copied them over into Quip–the same app I use to work with clients–and then began brainstorming completely different Influence Characters. Different situations. Different genres. Different genders. But at the heart of them–the same thematic concerns of narrative.
Here are two of them. Note how disparate in storytelling, yet similar in thematic intent, they are. Note how every appreciation generates conflict and doesn't use the Gist as simply a storytelling prompt. There are moments when I start out using it as storytelling, but then quickly move it into a source for conflict.
Note too how I start out writing something somewhat similar to my original idea. This is how the Playground Exercise works–it lets you dump out your first thoughts and then forces you to stretch and become something more than you were before you started. You know the old adage You can't solve a problem with the same mind that created it? That is precisely what we're doing here–transforming minds to become better writers.
You should be able to see the magic that is the Playground Exercises and of the Dramatica storyform for generating new and wonderful characters. In the next article I'll present more examples and explain how I take these exercises and use them to craft a fully fleshed out and developed character for my story.
Influence Character Throughline StoryEncoding Example #1Influence Character Domain & ConcernBeing in a Special Group & Reminiscing about Someone: Roger, a 16-year old autistic boy, challenges the people around him with his strange behavior and demanding personality. To know Roger is to constantly be on edge, always fearful of saying the wrong thing, and always careful to make sure his every need is met—even before he asks for it. The result is an uneasy environment around Roger; people rarely take risks if they fear repercussions and Roger is full of them.
To make matters worse, Roger spends an inordinate amount of time reminiscing about Plato, his favorite stuffed animal from when he was three. Roger sorely misses Plato and often wakes the family up late at night crying for him or creeps them out when they're awake by hugging a pillow and pretending it is his long lost friend. His constant reminiscing reminds everyone how stuck Roger is and how, because he is different from everyone else, they need to be careful not to hurt his feelings. Unfortunately this has the opposite effect on the kids at school where the focus on a stuffed animal often leads to bullying and after-school fights.
Influence Character IssueBeing a Suspect in a Murder Case vs. Evidence: Strangely enough, Roger is also a suspect in a murder case. Whether a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time or simply as a matter of his condition, everyone suspects the worst of Roger and treats him like a pariah. No one will sit next to him at school, he frightens the timid girls on the bus, and dinners at home are an uneasy and unpleasant experience. The evidence is there on Roger's blood-stained hands and sheets, but no one knows if that is simply an autistic kid looking for attention or if it truly does speak of a murderous personality. The uneasy feeling he creates in others leads his family members to second-guess opportunities to leave and forces them to support him—no matter how badly they don't want to–as they fear for their own lives.
Influence Character Symptom & ResponseBeing Philosophically Aligned against Something & Being Contemplative: Roger thinks the problem with the world today is that everyone spends too much time aligning themselves against that which they fear. It is so much easier taking the opposite position of the unknown then it is stepping out and trying something new. Roger refuses to give in to the "smaller" life and spends his waking hours contemplating different states of existence—all of which challenges those around him to improve their own way of thinking and to see the world differently. In short, he forces the people he comes into contact to deal with their own doubts and fears—something many would rather avoid doing.
Influence Character Source of DriveExploring Reality: Roger gets most worked up when he witnesses people consumed with the reality of day-to-day life. Paying taxes, working a job, and living the life of a city dweller causes him to lash out and publicly deride those who do. Why would anyone accept the reality given to them? To be a sheep and not step out of the bounds of normal existence, that is the problem with the non-autistic creature. His refusal to accept reality insults girls attracted to him, humiliates home economics teachers, and forces his family into working extra hours to make up for the work Roger himself has lost.
Influence Character DemotivatorKeeping Up Someone's Appearances: Roger loses himself when he becomes more concerned with keeping up appearances at the workplace or in a public restaurant. Those few rare moments when he stops being "special" and works to fit in—that's when the conflict dies around him and his friends and family can finally breathe a momentary sigh of relief.
Influence Character BenchmarkWondering about Something: The more Roger wonders about the meaning of life, the more he reminisces about Plato and about the loss of his only true friend. Relationships are but a fabrication of our own minds, he believes. Ultimately transitive in nature and completely made up.
Influence Character Signpost 1Concentrating on Something: We first see Roger standing in the middle of traffic contemplating a giant crack in the road. When questioned, Roger states that he sees more than anyone else ever could. It isn't just a crack because the more he thinks about it and the more he looks at it, the more glorious and beautiful it becomes. The artistry and majesty of the ripples and torn asphalt is a thing of beauty.
Influence Character Signpost 2Being Memorialized by Something: Roger gets up in arms when the board refuses to memorialize his favorite 2nd grade teacher Mr. Donovan. Mr. Donovan was the kindest most gentlest teacher who spent every a couple minutes every morning reminding Roger how awesome he was and how much he enjoyed his company. To refuse to memorialize this man is to refuse to recognize the beauty of the universe and an attempt by the great unwashed to remain asleep.
Influence Character Signpost 3Being Oversensitive to Something: Losing touch with reality, Roger's anxiety rages as he expresses his oversensitivity to touch and sound. The loud sounds of the city frighten him and cause him to scream and react in a way that terrifies children walking down the street. In addition, he screams terror when his family members try and hug him and show him affection.
Influence Character Signpost 4Being a Heartbreaker: Roger comes to the conclusion that small-minded people are the problem and he rejects his girlfriend of several months. He shows no signs of sadness, no signs of remorse, just a complete loss of feeling for anyone around him. To be attached to someone is to remain shackled in the world of the normal. That is why he will never ever forget about Plato—Plato was more than what he was…and that's precisely how Roger wants to live his life.
Influence Character Throughline StoryEncoding Example #2Influence Character Domain & ConcernHero Worshipping & Being Memorialized by Someone: Tay Nguyen is the world's biggest Hunger Games fanboy. At 63 years of age he creeps out the teenage girls at comic book conventions, angers his wife who wants to go on cruises around the world, and empties out his bank account and the money saved up for his children so that he can buy more and more merchandise and cosplay outfits. Up until now, Tay has not amounted to much of anything. 43 years as a sanitation worker really hasn't left much of a mark on the world. He wants to be memorialized by becoming so famous the Author has to write a part for him in the next book. This obsession to be remembered causes him to make a fool of himself and his grandchildren at a mall appearance, frightens the Author when she catches him spying outside her window late at night, and creates riots amongst other fans as they feel Tay is ruining their beloved series. Tay is a royal pain-in the-ass.
Influence Character IssueBeing Someone's Suspect vs. Evidence: To make matters worse, the Author starts to suspect that Tay might be her muse. Stuck with writer's block these past months, she begins to think Tay might be the answer to all her problems…which ends up delaying the book even longer (she wants to spend more time with Tay to get to know him), angers fans to the point of vandalizing the Author's house (since they don't want Tay to have anything to do with it), and sets the publishing world into chaos as many more Author's begin to suspect that their writing is missing something when they realize they don't have their own personal Tay.
Influence Character Symptom & ResponseBeing Ignorant of Something & Acting Without Thought: Tay sees the world's problems as revolving around their ignorance of the themes behind Hunger Games and of the strength and courage of its central character. The world can be so ignorant sometimes and can so easily discount something that could truly help them. Tay's response is to act with little consideration given to what he is doing, and to simply go with the flow. As that is what Katniss would do.
Influence Character Source of DriveFinding the Objective Reality of Something: Tay swings into action anytime someone tries to find objective reality in the Hunger Games and in particular its fandom. Anytime a news reporter tries to deconstruct the fiction and true motivation behind its deepest fans, Tay leaps into battle and starts tearing down the foundation of most everyone's reality. Stories are life, Tay believes; they help us understand our lives better and give us real solutions to our problems. Nobody can make sense of real life—it doesn't have the same purpose a story does. This breakdown of reality, of course, encourages the Author and other Authors to spend more time diving into their own self-consciousness (through drugs and other means) rather than actually get down to the business of writing.
Influence Character DemotivatorMisperceiving a Particular Group: When reporters and locals begin misperceiving Hunger Games fans as sad and pathetic and lonely people, Tay begins taking time proving to everyone else what great people they are. This sounds more like justification and all it does is make these people, including the Author behind the Hunger Games and other Authors discount Tay and the other fans as lunatics.
Influence Character BenchmarkConsidering Something: The more people start to consider that their lives are mere fiction, the less Tay cares about being memorialized…it's already happening.
Influence Character Signpost 1Being Preoccupied with Something: When we first meet Tay is preoccupied with his latest cosplay for the convention this weekend. His wife tries to speak to him, his grandchildren come to visit, nobody—and I mean nobody—can seem to get through to him. Tay is in his own little world and he ruins the plans the family had for that week and challenges his wife's patience as he sits there and compares his outfit to images on the Internet.
Influence Character Signpost 2Being Memorialized by Something: Tay is set to receive the official Hunger Games Greatest Fan award from the Author of the Hunger Games. As he begins to give his acceptance speech, boos and jeers start to rise up from the audience. He sends the crowd into turmoil when he mentions that the Author herself has promised to create a character based on him for the next book.
Influence Character Signpost 3Being Spontaneous: The Author, spurred on by Tay's influence, begins spouting out inane nonsense at her next interview on Good Morning America. The Author is simply riffing on the cuff (something Tay convinced him of), but she angers and upsets the people outside, embarrasses the interviewer on GMA, and basically ruins the ending of the next book by just letting it out.
Influence Character Signpost 4Fearing a Particular Number: Tay refuses to enter the offices of the editor for the Author's next book because he doesn't trust the street address: they are the same exact numbers used to signify the evil overlords in the original Hunger Games episode. He ends up missing out on being included in the next book because he is so consumed by the fiction of it all that he steps away and returns home.
This article originally appeared on Narrative First—fine suppliers of expert story advice. Want to become a master writer with Dramatica? Join the other novelists, screenwriters, and playwrights who have taken our Dramatica® Mentorship Program and knock out stories with as little as one or two drafts.
How to Write a Television Series
April 2016
Writing and producing a television series is difficult. With the recent popularity of streaming services and “binge watching”, writing and producing a television series is daunting. Trying to tell a serialized story over the course of a season or several seasons overwhelms even the most accomplished writer.
There is a way, however, to streamline the process while making it both productive and fun.
On Vox, Todd VanDerWerff discusses the one thing Netflix, Amazon, and Hulu get wrong about television, namely how most series tend to get “really saggy in the middle”:
This was particularly true with [Jessica] Jones, which reached a climactic point around the middle of its first season, then screwed around for several episodes before staging its final battle. By the time Jessica faced off with the season’s main supervillain, their encounter didn’t nearly have as much potency as it would have if the season had run for only eight episodes instead of 13.
This only happens because the show’s creators are unaware of the storyform they are trying to tell. Whether strung out across 13 episodes or 26, a competent and dynamically interesting story can be told as long as the story’s dynamics are kept in check. Outlining a television series to tell a single story in such a way that it does not “sag” in the middle is possible: you just have to know Dramatica.
A Dramatica storyform is a collection of 75 different story points that communicate the original intent of the Author’s narrative. While the purpose of the storyform is to maintain the integrity of the Author’s message, it also has the beneficial side effects of insuring there are no “story holes” and that characters stay motivated and tightly interwoven within a dynamic and developing plot. Knowing this storyform and using it to outline your work is the best way to avoid any of the pitfalls VanDerWerff speaks of.
Telling a Single StoryStreaming services have an unfortunate tendency to assume they should use all the time in a season — including the extra moments freed up by not having to remind viewers of certain plot developments — to tell a single story.
Telling a single story for one season is a smart and productive approach. Audiences only want to know that the time they give to a show is time well spent–they want the experience to be meaningful. As long as the writers and producers have something to say and know how to say it, they can easily fill 13 episodes with thematic material that captures the audience’s attention and keeps them engaged. The first season of HBO’s True Detective did this; by crafting a coherent and complete structure they delivered a powerful and captivating story.
In those instances where you do find that the story “sags” or lingers in the middle, you can fill that gap by defining a smaller storyform for a single episode.
Storyforms within a StoryformThis was the approach we took consulting on an animated series for a major studio, and the approach we take with novelists wanting to craft stories that span several books. Designate a storyform for the entire series, then identify smaller storyforms for a single season or book that support the larger storyform. When needed, and for variance, create smaller storyforms for individual episodes.
These last, extremely small storyforms, don’t necessarily have to have anything to do with the larger storyforms at play. For instance, think back to The X-Files and their mythology vs. monster episodes. The mythology had one single storyform spread out over several episodes; the monster episodes had one storyform per episode. Classics like Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose or Beyond the Sea told complete stories all on their own.
The recent update to the series (2016) took a similar approach: one storyform for the two bookend episodes and then different storyforms for the interior episodes. Data needed to develop and complete the larger over-arching storyform found itself woven into some of those self-contained episodes while there was one that stood out on all its own.
Epic StoryformingThe number of fictional works that are so dense that they require tellings longer than three hours is pretty slim. Certainly, gigantic epic novels like The Lord of the Rings or War and Peace fall into this category. But most other stories are rather slim when you come right down to it, and stretching them out just means adding pointless incidents and busywork, stuff that distracts from the story’s “spine,” or its most central conflict.
The Lord of the Rings in fact had several different storyforms all running concurrently. This is yet another approach writers and producers can take to flesh out and more fully develop their seasons. If they don’t want to craft standalone episodes or worry about “sagging”, they can easily and confidently run several storyforms at the same time within the same work. You simply need to know what it is you are trying to say.
Knowing Your StoryformThe storyform acts as the carrier wave for the Author’s intent. Plug in what conflict you want to explore, how you want it to turn out, and how you want the audience to feel about how it turned out, and Dramatica will provide you with a storyform.
Of course, stories are more than their conflicts. The best ones feature interesting characters who drive the plot forward, and those characters could help or hinder the progression of that plot through their actions. And all stories have obstacles that stand between the characters and their ultimate objective…But the number of obstacles a writer can organically introduce into a story before those obstacles start to feel pointless and random is very small.
This only happens when the writer or producer has no clue as to the storyform. Vince Gilligan (X-Files alum, btw) and David Simon and Beau Willimon may not have direct knowledge of Dramatica and its concept of the storyform, but their writer’s instinct–which is what Dramatica was built on–drive them to craft stories that do have complete storyforms.[1] Shakespeare didn’t have access to a Mac, yet Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, and Othello stand out as prime examples of solid storyforming. Bill had something to say and his legacy persists because of his effectiveness in communicating that message.
Dramatica just makes it easier.
Replicating the BricksA story can be told in a scene, or in an episode, or in a handful of them. But over a full season or series, it can easily fall apart, as writers lose focus and the obstacles placed in front of characters start to feel random and unmotivated. Streaming shows, because of how they’re presented to us, tend to look at the wall of a great series like The Wire and assume they just need replicate that wall. But that’s not the solution at all. Instead, they should start by replicating the bricks.
Brilliant analogy, but not entirely accurate. Crafting self-contained episodes, or bricks, can be an effective deterrent to unmotivated narrative. However, replicating the chemical makeup of the bricks and understanding the fractal nature of those bricks within the wall would better serve writers and producers. Dramatica helps to identify those base components of narrative.
The key to combatting this problem of losing focus lies in knowing exactly what storyform a particular episodes or series of episodes is telling. There are so many story points within a single storyform–not including the 45 or so sequences hidden deep within the storyform–that a writer would find it rather difficult to maintain a story that felt “random” or “unmotivated”. As always, clarity in regards to intent–whether through character, plot, theme, or genre–keeps an audience engaged regardless of length.
Size doesn’t matter when the message is clear.
April 2016
Writing and producing a television series is difficult. With the recent popularity of streaming services and “binge watching”, writing and producing a television series is daunting. Trying to tell a serialized story over the course of a season or several seasons overwhelms even the most accomplished writer.
There is a way, however, to streamline the process while making it both productive and fun.
On Vox, Todd VanDerWerff discusses the one thing Netflix, Amazon, and Hulu get wrong about television, namely how most series tend to get “really saggy in the middle”:
This was particularly true with [Jessica] Jones, which reached a climactic point around the middle of its first season, then screwed around for several episodes before staging its final battle. By the time Jessica faced off with the season’s main supervillain, their encounter didn’t nearly have as much potency as it would have if the season had run for only eight episodes instead of 13.
This only happens because the show’s creators are unaware of the storyform they are trying to tell. Whether strung out across 13 episodes or 26, a competent and dynamically interesting story can be told as long as the story’s dynamics are kept in check. Outlining a television series to tell a single story in such a way that it does not “sag” in the middle is possible: you just have to know Dramatica.
A Dramatica storyform is a collection of 75 different story points that communicate the original intent of the Author’s narrative. While the purpose of the storyform is to maintain the integrity of the Author’s message, it also has the beneficial side effects of insuring there are no “story holes” and that characters stay motivated and tightly interwoven within a dynamic and developing plot. Knowing this storyform and using it to outline your work is the best way to avoid any of the pitfalls VanDerWerff speaks of.
Telling a Single StoryStreaming services have an unfortunate tendency to assume they should use all the time in a season — including the extra moments freed up by not having to remind viewers of certain plot developments — to tell a single story.
Telling a single story for one season is a smart and productive approach. Audiences only want to know that the time they give to a show is time well spent–they want the experience to be meaningful. As long as the writers and producers have something to say and know how to say it, they can easily fill 13 episodes with thematic material that captures the audience’s attention and keeps them engaged. The first season of HBO’s True Detective did this; by crafting a coherent and complete structure they delivered a powerful and captivating story.
In those instances where you do find that the story “sags” or lingers in the middle, you can fill that gap by defining a smaller storyform for a single episode.
Storyforms within a StoryformThis was the approach we took consulting on an animated series for a major studio, and the approach we take with novelists wanting to craft stories that span several books. Designate a storyform for the entire series, then identify smaller storyforms for a single season or book that support the larger storyform. When needed, and for variance, create smaller storyforms for individual episodes.
These last, extremely small storyforms, don’t necessarily have to have anything to do with the larger storyforms at play. For instance, think back to The X-Files and their mythology vs. monster episodes. The mythology had one single storyform spread out over several episodes; the monster episodes had one storyform per episode. Classics like Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose or Beyond the Sea told complete stories all on their own.
The recent update to the series (2016) took a similar approach: one storyform for the two bookend episodes and then different storyforms for the interior episodes. Data needed to develop and complete the larger over-arching storyform found itself woven into some of those self-contained episodes while there was one that stood out on all its own.
Epic StoryformingThe number of fictional works that are so dense that they require tellings longer than three hours is pretty slim. Certainly, gigantic epic novels like The Lord of the Rings or War and Peace fall into this category. But most other stories are rather slim when you come right down to it, and stretching them out just means adding pointless incidents and busywork, stuff that distracts from the story’s “spine,” or its most central conflict.
The Lord of the Rings in fact had several different storyforms all running concurrently. This is yet another approach writers and producers can take to flesh out and more fully develop their seasons. If they don’t want to craft standalone episodes or worry about “sagging”, they can easily and confidently run several storyforms at the same time within the same work. You simply need to know what it is you are trying to say.
Knowing Your StoryformThe storyform acts as the carrier wave for the Author’s intent. Plug in what conflict you want to explore, how you want it to turn out, and how you want the audience to feel about how it turned out, and Dramatica will provide you with a storyform.
Of course, stories are more than their conflicts. The best ones feature interesting characters who drive the plot forward, and those characters could help or hinder the progression of that plot through their actions. And all stories have obstacles that stand between the characters and their ultimate objective…But the number of obstacles a writer can organically introduce into a story before those obstacles start to feel pointless and random is very small.
This only happens when the writer or producer has no clue as to the storyform. Vince Gilligan (X-Files alum, btw) and David Simon and Beau Willimon may not have direct knowledge of Dramatica and its concept of the storyform, but their writer’s instinct–which is what Dramatica was built on–drive them to craft stories that do have complete storyforms.[1] Shakespeare didn’t have access to a Mac, yet Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, and Othello stand out as prime examples of solid storyforming. Bill had something to say and his legacy persists because of his effectiveness in communicating that message.
Dramatica just makes it easier.
Replicating the BricksA story can be told in a scene, or in an episode, or in a handful of them. But over a full season or series, it can easily fall apart, as writers lose focus and the obstacles placed in front of characters start to feel random and unmotivated. Streaming shows, because of how they’re presented to us, tend to look at the wall of a great series like The Wire and assume they just need replicate that wall. But that’s not the solution at all. Instead, they should start by replicating the bricks.
Brilliant analogy, but not entirely accurate. Crafting self-contained episodes, or bricks, can be an effective deterrent to unmotivated narrative. However, replicating the chemical makeup of the bricks and understanding the fractal nature of those bricks within the wall would better serve writers and producers. Dramatica helps to identify those base components of narrative.
The key to combatting this problem of losing focus lies in knowing exactly what storyform a particular episodes or series of episodes is telling. There are so many story points within a single storyform–not including the 45 or so sequences hidden deep within the storyform–that a writer would find it rather difficult to maintain a story that felt “random” or “unmotivated”. As always, clarity in regards to intent–whether through character, plot, theme, or genre–keeps an audience engaged regardless of length.
Size doesn’t matter when the message is clear.
- Vince Gilligan is responsible for Breaking Bad, David Simon The Wire, and Beau Willimon House of Cards. ↩
The Multiple Main Characters of Mystic River
March 2016
Main Characters, like the people in real life they portray, find peace in their own personal way. Sometimes they achieve this resolution by means most would consider sad or even reprehensible. What happens when an Author's judgment on a Main Character's growth clashes with societal standards?
Something truly awesome.
Mystic RiverIn Dennis Lehane's novel Mystic River you have no less than three Main Characters who, by one form or another, manage to resolve their own personal issues. While it is a story of triumph for one of them, the other two find themselves at the end of a personal triumph. Regardless of whether or not their Overall Stories ended in Success, all three found their own version of peace.
Three Main Characters? The time restriction on a feature-film, typically two-and-a-half hours, makes it virtually impossible to completely explore three distinct storyforms. Novels, on the other hand, can do so with ease.
A storyform is a collection of four distinct perspectives, all focused on the same central inequity. The Main Character clues us in on what it feels like to have the problem, the Influence Character lets us know it is like for someone else to experience that problem, the Relationship Story allows us to feel what it is like when we have the problem, and the Overall Story examines how all the players deal with the problem. By definition then, Main Characters with distinct personal issues require their own storyform. The Overall Stories of those different storyforms may overlap and share thematic material (as they do in Mystic River), but the personal nature of the Main Character's Throughline almost demand their own collection of story points.
Understand that while this article contains images from the film version of Mystic River, the film itself fails to explore each story to completion.
For once, we're focusing on the novel.
Sean Devine
March 2016
Main Characters, like the people in real life they portray, find peace in their own personal way. Sometimes they achieve this resolution by means most would consider sad or even reprehensible. What happens when an Author's judgment on a Main Character's growth clashes with societal standards?
Something truly awesome.
Mystic RiverIn Dennis Lehane's novel Mystic River you have no less than three Main Characters who, by one form or another, manage to resolve their own personal issues. While it is a story of triumph for one of them, the other two find themselves at the end of a personal triumph. Regardless of whether or not their Overall Stories ended in Success, all three found their own version of peace.
Three Main Characters? The time restriction on a feature-film, typically two-and-a-half hours, makes it virtually impossible to completely explore three distinct storyforms. Novels, on the other hand, can do so with ease.
A storyform is a collection of four distinct perspectives, all focused on the same central inequity. The Main Character clues us in on what it feels like to have the problem, the Influence Character lets us know it is like for someone else to experience that problem, the Relationship Story allows us to feel what it is like when we have the problem, and the Overall Story examines how all the players deal with the problem. By definition then, Main Characters with distinct personal issues require their own storyform. The Overall Stories of those different storyforms may overlap and share thematic material (as they do in Mystic River), but the personal nature of the Main Character's Throughline almost demand their own collection of story points.
Understand that while this article contains images from the film version of Mystic River, the film itself fails to explore each story to completion.
For once, we're focusing on the novel.
Sean Devine
Detective Sean Devine reconciles with his wife.Sean's personal problems stem from his estranged relationship with his wife Lauren and his daughter, Nora. Having successfully identified the person behind Katie's murder, Sean (Kevin Bacon in the film) calls up his wife and makes amends. They attend a parade together at the end of the story:
He loved his wife then as deeply as he ever had, and he felt humbled by her ability to convey instant kinship with lost souls. He was sure then that it was he who had wronged their marriage with the emergence of his cop's ego, his gradual contempt for the flaws and frailty of people. He reached out and touched Lauren's cheek…
Sean's story is one of triumph—he solves the murder and resolves his personal issues (Overall Story Outcome of Success, Story Judgment of Good). But what about the other Main Characters?
Dave Boyle
He loved his wife then as deeply as he ever had, and he felt humbled by her ability to convey instant kinship with lost souls. He was sure then that it was he who had wronged their marriage with the emergence of his cop's ego, his gradual contempt for the flaws and frailty of people. He reached out and touched Lauren's cheek…
Sean's story is one of triumph—he solves the murder and resolves his personal issues (Overall Story Outcome of Success, Story Judgment of Good). But what about the other Main Characters?
Dave Boyle
Sad sack Dave Boyle finds peace at the bottom of a river.Sad sack Dave (Tim Robbins in the film), a victim of child molestation, finds his peaceful resolution at the banks of the Mystic, a place where Jimmy says:
"We bury our sins here, Dave. We wash them clean."
What Jimmy refers to here is his intention to kill Dave, thinking him responsible for his daughter's death. The truth, unfortunately, is that Dave had nothing to do with Katie's murder; he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Jimmy doesn't believe him, and shows his disbelief by running a knife through Dave's gut. Dave falls to his knees as Jimmy pulls out a gun and aims it at his childhood friend. Unwilling to die just yet, Dave pleads for mercy.
Jimmy lowers his gun.
"Thank you," Dave said. "Thank you, thank you." Dave lay back and saw the shafts of light streaming across the bridge, cutting through the black of the night, glowing. "Thank you, Jimmy. I'm going to be a good man now. You've taught me something. You have. And I'll tell you what that something is as soon as I've caught by breath. I'm going to be a good father. I'm going to be a good husband. I promise. I swear…"
Dave finds peace as he bleeds out. In contrast to Sean's story, Dave's is one of personal triumph. While he was able to overcome the deep-seeded issues he developed as a result of his childhood trauma, he was unable to avoid some sort of retribution for the crime he really did commit. He failed to avoid the consequence of killing a child molester in the same parking lot where Katie was killed. A bittersweet ending that helps to color the "happy ending" Sean's story received
Jimmy Markum
"We bury our sins here, Dave. We wash them clean."
What Jimmy refers to here is his intention to kill Dave, thinking him responsible for his daughter's death. The truth, unfortunately, is that Dave had nothing to do with Katie's murder; he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Jimmy doesn't believe him, and shows his disbelief by running a knife through Dave's gut. Dave falls to his knees as Jimmy pulls out a gun and aims it at his childhood friend. Unwilling to die just yet, Dave pleads for mercy.
Jimmy lowers his gun.
"Thank you," Dave said. "Thank you, thank you." Dave lay back and saw the shafts of light streaming across the bridge, cutting through the black of the night, glowing. "Thank you, Jimmy. I'm going to be a good man now. You've taught me something. You have. And I'll tell you what that something is as soon as I've caught by breath. I'm going to be a good father. I'm going to be a good husband. I promise. I swear…"
Dave finds peace as he bleeds out. In contrast to Sean's story, Dave's is one of personal triumph. While he was able to overcome the deep-seeded issues he developed as a result of his childhood trauma, he was unable to avoid some sort of retribution for the crime he really did commit. He failed to avoid the consequence of killing a child molester in the same parking lot where Katie was killed. A bittersweet ending that helps to color the "happy ending" Sean's story received
Jimmy Markum
Jimmy Markum feels alright.
Perhaps the most chilling resolve lies in the heart of Jimmy Markum (Sean Penn in the film). Having just found out Katie's true killer (albeit too late for Dave), Jimmy finds himself faced with the revelation that he killed an innocent man. How does he respond?
He was evil? So be it. He could live with it because he had love in his heart and he had certainty. As trade-offs went, it wasn't half bad. He got dressed. He walked through the kitchen feeling like the man he'd been pretending to be all these years had just gone down the drain in the bathroom. He could hear his daughters shrieking and laughing, probably getting licked to death by Val's cat, and he thought, Man, that's a beautiful sound.
By most standards, Jimmy's attitude is reprehensible. How could anyone find peace when they're guilty of such a crime? The truth is we know people like this, and may even be a bit guilty of the same sort of justification (hopefully with less deadly consequences). A peaceful resolution does not have to be something with which an audience agrees with. Sometimes bad people get away with bad things and feel OK about it. Jimmy is one of those people.
He didn't get the revenge he was working so hard for, but he's OK with that. He can live with himself because he has love.
A Complicated PeaceThe peaceful resolution to a Main Character's personal issues does not have to be a black and white issue. Proving that the end result of a Main Character's arc was a good thing does not have to be something that we as an audience actually feel good about. The Author is in charge here, not the audience.
Whether you're talking about Sean, Dave, or Jimmy, all three Main Characters manage to resolve their own personal problems. While Sean's is the closest to a happy ending, Dave and Jimmy's stories have that bittersweet feeling that is unfortunately more true-to-life. The end result is something closer to truth.
What gives this story its feeling of delicious intricacy, of being that much more like real life, is the degree to which these peaceful resolutions are found. Our moral appreciation of the ends towards achieving those means, if in discord with the Author's original intent, gives a piece of fiction that feeling of meaningful complexity. Neither technique, whether subtle or complex, is better than the other. Some Authors prefer to give their audiences something more.
Dennis Lehane is one of those authors.
This article originally appeared on Narrative First—fine suppliers of expert story advice. The Dramatica® Beginner's Workshop returns this March 19-20. Develop your story sense while learning this revolutionary theory! Learn more about this workshop.
Perhaps the most chilling resolve lies in the heart of Jimmy Markum (Sean Penn in the film). Having just found out Katie's true killer (albeit too late for Dave), Jimmy finds himself faced with the revelation that he killed an innocent man. How does he respond?
He was evil? So be it. He could live with it because he had love in his heart and he had certainty. As trade-offs went, it wasn't half bad. He got dressed. He walked through the kitchen feeling like the man he'd been pretending to be all these years had just gone down the drain in the bathroom. He could hear his daughters shrieking and laughing, probably getting licked to death by Val's cat, and he thought, Man, that's a beautiful sound.
By most standards, Jimmy's attitude is reprehensible. How could anyone find peace when they're guilty of such a crime? The truth is we know people like this, and may even be a bit guilty of the same sort of justification (hopefully with less deadly consequences). A peaceful resolution does not have to be something with which an audience agrees with. Sometimes bad people get away with bad things and feel OK about it. Jimmy is one of those people.
He didn't get the revenge he was working so hard for, but he's OK with that. He can live with himself because he has love.
A Complicated PeaceThe peaceful resolution to a Main Character's personal issues does not have to be a black and white issue. Proving that the end result of a Main Character's arc was a good thing does not have to be something that we as an audience actually feel good about. The Author is in charge here, not the audience.
Whether you're talking about Sean, Dave, or Jimmy, all three Main Characters manage to resolve their own personal problems. While Sean's is the closest to a happy ending, Dave and Jimmy's stories have that bittersweet feeling that is unfortunately more true-to-life. The end result is something closer to truth.
What gives this story its feeling of delicious intricacy, of being that much more like real life, is the degree to which these peaceful resolutions are found. Our moral appreciation of the ends towards achieving those means, if in discord with the Author's original intent, gives a piece of fiction that feeling of meaningful complexity. Neither technique, whether subtle or complex, is better than the other. Some Authors prefer to give their audiences something more.
Dennis Lehane is one of those authors.
This article originally appeared on Narrative First—fine suppliers of expert story advice. The Dramatica® Beginner's Workshop returns this March 19-20. Develop your story sense while learning this revolutionary theory! Learn more about this workshop.
Story Analysis: The Revenant
February 2016
Spoiler Alert --Brilliant filmmaking with an almost-story, The Revenant is a gritty experience of one man's will to survive-and seek revenge. The last point is important as it does seem the Author's intent is to say something deeply meaningful about revenge and leaving judgment up to the rushing waters of God. Unfortunately the narrative supporting that notion lacks certain key elements resulting in the argument proving that meaning less persuasive as it could have been.
Hugh Glass (Leonardo diCaprio) is driven by the will to survive and gives us a firsthand experience of what it's like to put off one's own death (Main Character Problem of Pursuit, Main Character Issue of Delay). Fitzgerald (Tom Hardy) gives us the alternative perspective with his no-frills frontier attitude of doing what is prudent and reasonable (Influence Character Drive of Logic and Influence Character Domain of Fixed Attitude). And the Overall Story of selling pelts, stealing pelts, killing natives, raping natives, and exacting revenge all cover the third Throughline neatly (Overall Story Throughline of Activity, Overall Story Concern of Obtaining).
But it is the fourth Throughline-the Relationship between the Main and Influence Character-that goes unaccounted for. Sure, there is the potential in Glass and Fitzgerald's first scenes together and yes, they do conclude it nicely-but the in-between parts-that's where the hole in the argument is found.
This missing part also explains why the film lacks a certain amount of heart. All the grit and struggle and determination is captivating and masterful-but without the heart, it tends to get a bit monotonous in the middle. There are attempts to alleviate this with Glass' dreams of his wife and of ruined churches and piles of skulls. And these work quite nicely to supply that Relationship Story Problem of Conscience that a complete argument would require. But without their anchor in a relationship between Fitzgerald and Glass, these scenes ultimately end up far less effective than they need to be.
It is nice that Fitzgerald offers up that Relationship Story Solution of Temptation during their final battle-and almost fulfilling when Glass both Avoids killing and leaving revenge up to God (Main Character Solution of Avoid and Relationship Story Problem of Conscience). But it feels like overhearing the end of a debate or an argument when you haven't heard the two hours of back and forth that came before. It is the right conclusion for the dramatics put in place, but unfortunately lands weaker due to the argument's underdeveloped nature.
Make no mistake-The Revenant is a film you won't want to miss and one that will definitely earn several Oscars this year. However, if you're looking for a satisfying and emotionally fulfilling story you might leave the theater feeling a bit cheated. This is a tale of survival and revenge, not a story of survival and revenge.
The presence of a solid storyform usually predicts whether or not an Audience member will want to see a movie again; the idea resting in the notion that stories offer us an insight into problem solving we can't find in real life. The Revenant is that rare beast that transcends story to offer an experience unlike any other. Even a site "where story is king" appreciates and applauds this monumental effort.
This article originally appeared on Narrative First—fine suppliers of expert story advice. Want your next pitch or draft to be so well received it doesn't incur a single note? Join our track record of proven success by hiring a Dramatica® Guru.
February 2016
Spoiler Alert --Brilliant filmmaking with an almost-story, The Revenant is a gritty experience of one man's will to survive-and seek revenge. The last point is important as it does seem the Author's intent is to say something deeply meaningful about revenge and leaving judgment up to the rushing waters of God. Unfortunately the narrative supporting that notion lacks certain key elements resulting in the argument proving that meaning less persuasive as it could have been.
Hugh Glass (Leonardo diCaprio) is driven by the will to survive and gives us a firsthand experience of what it's like to put off one's own death (Main Character Problem of Pursuit, Main Character Issue of Delay). Fitzgerald (Tom Hardy) gives us the alternative perspective with his no-frills frontier attitude of doing what is prudent and reasonable (Influence Character Drive of Logic and Influence Character Domain of Fixed Attitude). And the Overall Story of selling pelts, stealing pelts, killing natives, raping natives, and exacting revenge all cover the third Throughline neatly (Overall Story Throughline of Activity, Overall Story Concern of Obtaining).
But it is the fourth Throughline-the Relationship between the Main and Influence Character-that goes unaccounted for. Sure, there is the potential in Glass and Fitzgerald's first scenes together and yes, they do conclude it nicely-but the in-between parts-that's where the hole in the argument is found.
This missing part also explains why the film lacks a certain amount of heart. All the grit and struggle and determination is captivating and masterful-but without the heart, it tends to get a bit monotonous in the middle. There are attempts to alleviate this with Glass' dreams of his wife and of ruined churches and piles of skulls. And these work quite nicely to supply that Relationship Story Problem of Conscience that a complete argument would require. But without their anchor in a relationship between Fitzgerald and Glass, these scenes ultimately end up far less effective than they need to be.
It is nice that Fitzgerald offers up that Relationship Story Solution of Temptation during their final battle-and almost fulfilling when Glass both Avoids killing and leaving revenge up to God (Main Character Solution of Avoid and Relationship Story Problem of Conscience). But it feels like overhearing the end of a debate or an argument when you haven't heard the two hours of back and forth that came before. It is the right conclusion for the dramatics put in place, but unfortunately lands weaker due to the argument's underdeveloped nature.
Make no mistake-The Revenant is a film you won't want to miss and one that will definitely earn several Oscars this year. However, if you're looking for a satisfying and emotionally fulfilling story you might leave the theater feeling a bit cheated. This is a tale of survival and revenge, not a story of survival and revenge.
The presence of a solid storyform usually predicts whether or not an Audience member will want to see a movie again; the idea resting in the notion that stories offer us an insight into problem solving we can't find in real life. The Revenant is that rare beast that transcends story to offer an experience unlike any other. Even a site "where story is king" appreciates and applauds this monumental effort.
This article originally appeared on Narrative First—fine suppliers of expert story advice. Want your next pitch or draft to be so well received it doesn't incur a single note? Join our track record of proven success by hiring a Dramatica® Guru.
Star Wars: The Force Awakens
January 2016
How many times have you seen it? Is that desire to see it again simply a matter of decades-old nostalgia or could it be the film possesses a quality that differentiates the timeless from the forgotten? Closer examination reveals the latter; The Force Awakens contains a solid storyform at its center.
Every complete story consists of four major Throughlines: a Main Character, an Influence Character to challenge the Main, a Relationship Story Throughline between the two, and finally an Overall Story Throughline for all the characters–Main and Influence included–to experience.
SPOILER ALERT!At first glance, one may see Rey (Daisy Ridley) at the center of the narrative. While she takes on the responsibility for driving the plot forward, this comes as a result of her objective function as Protagonist in the Overall Story, not as the subjective means for an Audience to enter the story. Certainly there are moments personal only to her–the nightmare visions the strongest example–yet these brief moments act merely as the first Act to a Throughline that most likely will span the entire trilogy. Instead, we look to FN–2817–or Finn (John Boyega)–as our Main Character perspective for this story.
Finn’s Throughline begins the moment he lowers his blaster and refuses to fire into the crowd of innocent villagers. “I wasn’t going to kill for them,” he explains later–a justification signaling his Main Character Problem: Support. Everywhere he goes he runs into conflict stemming from this Problem. Cries of “Traitor!” arise from the perception that he–a soldier from birth (Main Character Throughline of Situation)–has switched allegiances.
Yet Finn’s problem is not that he won’t fight for the First Order, it is that he refuses to stand for anything–a lack of Support if you will. Other dynamics within the narrative then give Finn a Main Character Symptom of Pursuit and a Main Character Response of Avoid. Main Characters are aware of their Symptoms and think this is where their problem lies. Finn believes his problem is that the First Order will pursue him from one end of the galaxy to the next and thus–as Moz points out later–responds by running away (Avoiding).
January 2016
How many times have you seen it? Is that desire to see it again simply a matter of decades-old nostalgia or could it be the film possesses a quality that differentiates the timeless from the forgotten? Closer examination reveals the latter; The Force Awakens contains a solid storyform at its center.
Every complete story consists of four major Throughlines: a Main Character, an Influence Character to challenge the Main, a Relationship Story Throughline between the two, and finally an Overall Story Throughline for all the characters–Main and Influence included–to experience.
SPOILER ALERT!At first glance, one may see Rey (Daisy Ridley) at the center of the narrative. While she takes on the responsibility for driving the plot forward, this comes as a result of her objective function as Protagonist in the Overall Story, not as the subjective means for an Audience to enter the story. Certainly there are moments personal only to her–the nightmare visions the strongest example–yet these brief moments act merely as the first Act to a Throughline that most likely will span the entire trilogy. Instead, we look to FN–2817–or Finn (John Boyega)–as our Main Character perspective for this story.
Finn’s Throughline begins the moment he lowers his blaster and refuses to fire into the crowd of innocent villagers. “I wasn’t going to kill for them,” he explains later–a justification signaling his Main Character Problem: Support. Everywhere he goes he runs into conflict stemming from this Problem. Cries of “Traitor!” arise from the perception that he–a soldier from birth (Main Character Throughline of Situation)–has switched allegiances.
Yet Finn’s problem is not that he won’t fight for the First Order, it is that he refuses to stand for anything–a lack of Support if you will. Other dynamics within the narrative then give Finn a Main Character Symptom of Pursuit and a Main Character Response of Avoid. Main Characters are aware of their Symptoms and think this is where their problem lies. Finn believes his problem is that the First Order will pursue him from one end of the galaxy to the next and thus–as Moz points out later–responds by running away (Avoiding).
MC Problem Quad for The Force AwakensThe only way Finn can truly resolve his personal problems is to Oppose something. He needs to stand against something and refuse to accept the status quo. This complete change of character (Main Character Resolve Changed) comes when he gleefully stands up to his former boss and tells her, “I’m in charge now, Phasma. I’m in charge!” Employing his Main Character Solution resolves his personal Throughline and quite literally opens up the way for the Overall Story to end in success.
Like the disdain shown for Finn but on a global level, the First Order’s hatred of the Republic stems from the deep-seeded belief that the Republic supports the Resistance. Only traitors and murderers would stoop that low (Overall Story Problem of Support). Add to that the lack of support from a certain individual who sits on the sidelines of the Galaxy and you have a narrative primed for conflict.
Like the disdain shown for Finn but on a global level, the First Order’s hatred of the Republic stems from the deep-seeded belief that the Republic supports the Resistance. Only traitors and murderers would stoop that low (Overall Story Problem of Support). Add to that the lack of support from a certain individual who sits on the sidelines of the Galaxy and you have a narrative primed for conflict.
OS Problem Quad for The Force AwakensLuke Skywalker is missing. Our very first Story Point in the film signifies the inequity of the story and fuels everything that comes after. If Luke simply stepped forward and stood up to the evil forces awakening, none of what followed would have happened. This is how meaningful narrative works: The personal conflict experienced subjectively by the Main Character is repeated objectively in the larger Overall Story. Juxtaposing both points of view grants an audience insight into resolving problems they can’t experience in real life.
And that’s why you want to see the film again. Why you want to see any great film again. You are gaining an understanding impossible to appreciate in your day-to-day life. Wrap it up in an entertaining package and you have the recipe for massive success.
With the forces of evil growing in power, Finding Luke becomes the Overall Story Goal, forcing the Story Consequence of failing into Changing One’s Nature–in this case, transforming the face of the Galaxy to one ruled by the wicked First Order. Overall Story Issues of Attitude come into play–signified by Po’s cocky demeanor with Kylo Ren (Oscar Isaac and Adam Driver respectively) and Han Solo’s brazen attitude towards his debtors (Harrison Ford).
As mentioned previously, Finn’s change of character paves the way for the overall story to end in success: they find Luke (Story Outcome of Success). Without Finn’s Change the Resistance would not have been able to stand up against the First Order (Overall Story Solution of Oppose). Whether or not Finn’s change resolved his personal angst is left to be seen–though it is clear the implication is that his actions were a Good thing (Story Judgment of Good).
Rey will eventually be the one to bring balance back to the Force, but for now–in order to bring balance to this storyform–she would have to impact those around her with her fixed attitude, a longing for someone unseen, a hope eagerly anticipated, and a drive for doing the right thing (Influence Character Domain of Fixed Attitude, Influence Character Concern of Innermost Desires, Influence Character Issue of Hope, and an Influence Character Problem of Conscience). Choosing to forgo the bountiful portions in lieu of selling her droid is less a “Save the Cat” moment and more a perfect application of the Influence Character’s Problem of Conscience. Rey easily exhibits all of the above thematics for her Throughline–which explains why she is the perfect foil for Finn and why he seems so astounded when she is able to take care of herself.
If you were to write your own story with a character just like Finn, Dramatica would suggest to you a character just like Rey. Whether it was writer’s intuition (a good bet considering Lawrence Kasdan, Michael Arndt, and J.J. Abrams’s body of work) or whether it was the result of working with the application, Rey balances Finn’s point-of-view on every point. Her Steadfastness motivates Finn’s eventual Change.
Lastly there is the matter of the Relationship Story between Rey and Finn. Here too the writers chose storytelling elements that perfectly encapsulate the thematics needed to round out and complete the narrative.
With a Main Character like Finn, an Influence Character like Rey, and an Overall Story revolving around the First Order, the Republic and Luke’s absence–you would need a relationship between Rey and Finn that started out one way and then morphed into something completely new. Growing from a convenient partnership (“You’re a pilot?!”) to lifelong friends satisfies several key story points within the Relationship Story Throughline.
And that’s why you want to see the film again. Why you want to see any great film again. You are gaining an understanding impossible to appreciate in your day-to-day life. Wrap it up in an entertaining package and you have the recipe for massive success.
With the forces of evil growing in power, Finding Luke becomes the Overall Story Goal, forcing the Story Consequence of failing into Changing One’s Nature–in this case, transforming the face of the Galaxy to one ruled by the wicked First Order. Overall Story Issues of Attitude come into play–signified by Po’s cocky demeanor with Kylo Ren (Oscar Isaac and Adam Driver respectively) and Han Solo’s brazen attitude towards his debtors (Harrison Ford).
As mentioned previously, Finn’s change of character paves the way for the overall story to end in success: they find Luke (Story Outcome of Success). Without Finn’s Change the Resistance would not have been able to stand up against the First Order (Overall Story Solution of Oppose). Whether or not Finn’s change resolved his personal angst is left to be seen–though it is clear the implication is that his actions were a Good thing (Story Judgment of Good).
Rey will eventually be the one to bring balance back to the Force, but for now–in order to bring balance to this storyform–she would have to impact those around her with her fixed attitude, a longing for someone unseen, a hope eagerly anticipated, and a drive for doing the right thing (Influence Character Domain of Fixed Attitude, Influence Character Concern of Innermost Desires, Influence Character Issue of Hope, and an Influence Character Problem of Conscience). Choosing to forgo the bountiful portions in lieu of selling her droid is less a “Save the Cat” moment and more a perfect application of the Influence Character’s Problem of Conscience. Rey easily exhibits all of the above thematics for her Throughline–which explains why she is the perfect foil for Finn and why he seems so astounded when she is able to take care of herself.
If you were to write your own story with a character just like Finn, Dramatica would suggest to you a character just like Rey. Whether it was writer’s intuition (a good bet considering Lawrence Kasdan, Michael Arndt, and J.J. Abrams’s body of work) or whether it was the result of working with the application, Rey balances Finn’s point-of-view on every point. Her Steadfastness motivates Finn’s eventual Change.
Lastly there is the matter of the Relationship Story between Rey and Finn. Here too the writers chose storytelling elements that perfectly encapsulate the thematics needed to round out and complete the narrative.
With a Main Character like Finn, an Influence Character like Rey, and an Overall Story revolving around the First Order, the Republic and Luke’s absence–you would need a relationship between Rey and Finn that started out one way and then morphed into something completely new. Growing from a convenient partnership (“You’re a pilot?!”) to lifelong friends satisfies several key story points within the Relationship Story Throughline.
MC Problem Quad for The Force AwakensBy growing into a new kind of relationship they answer the Relationship Story Concern of Changing One’s Nature as the nature of their relationship changes. Obligating themselves to each other (“They think you’re with me”) initiates the conflict in their relationship and eventually grows into the two of them standing by each other in the face of ultimate evil (Relationship Story Issue of Obligation). But at the heart of their relationship lies their Relationship Story Problem: Logic. Their relationship is a matter of convenience at first: Fin needs a pilot and Rey needs a gunner. Eventually it grows into something more meaningful and something more deeply felt–this is where the Relationship Story Solution of Feeling comes into play and how their relationship eventually grows into a lasting friendship. “I’ll see you soon, my friend.”
Star Wars: The Force Awakens is more than a cultural phenomenon: it is the continuation of a legacy of great storytelling that began in the 70s,died out in the late 90s, and finally came back in 2015. There is more to the film than familiar faces, recognizable sound effects, and similar situations. The Force Awakens is a complete story, balancing out the four key Throughlines in such a way that the Aidience leaves with a greater understanding of how to successfully resolve certain problems. Anyone wishing to repeat this same kind of success would do well to discover the storyform for their work, and endeavor to fill it with the same sort of life and love.
Final Storyform SettingsMain Character Resolve: Changed, Main Character Growth: Stop, Main Character Approach: Do-er, Main Character Problem-Solving Style: Linear, Story Driver: Action, Story Limit: Optionlock, Story Outcome: Success, Overall Story Throughline: Activity, Overall Story Concern: Obtaining, Overall Story Issue: Attitude, Overall Story Problem: Support
This article originally appeared on Narrative First--fine suppliers of expert story advice. Want your next pitch or draft to be so well received it doesn't incur a single note? Join our track record of proven success by hiring a Dramatica® Guru.
Star Wars: The Force Awakens is more than a cultural phenomenon: it is the continuation of a legacy of great storytelling that began in the 70s,died out in the late 90s, and finally came back in 2015. There is more to the film than familiar faces, recognizable sound effects, and similar situations. The Force Awakens is a complete story, balancing out the four key Throughlines in such a way that the Aidience leaves with a greater understanding of how to successfully resolve certain problems. Anyone wishing to repeat this same kind of success would do well to discover the storyform for their work, and endeavor to fill it with the same sort of life and love.
Final Storyform SettingsMain Character Resolve: Changed, Main Character Growth: Stop, Main Character Approach: Do-er, Main Character Problem-Solving Style: Linear, Story Driver: Action, Story Limit: Optionlock, Story Outcome: Success, Overall Story Throughline: Activity, Overall Story Concern: Obtaining, Overall Story Issue: Attitude, Overall Story Problem: Support
This article originally appeared on Narrative First--fine suppliers of expert story advice. Want your next pitch or draft to be so well received it doesn't incur a single note? Join our track record of proven success by hiring a Dramatica® Guru.
A Predictive Story Engine for Gaming
December 2015
By far, the most interesting conversation surrounding Dramatica today is the discussion of its application to interactive fiction. As a huge fan of Infocom's text-based adventures of yesteryear I find talk of an intelligent story engine running the show for gamers a very exciting development.
Melanie Anne Phillips, the other co-creator of Dramatica, recently took time out to address the use of the theory in gaming and even offers some insight into how this would be done:
Consider, then, the first-person player perspective in a game is not necessarily to provide experiences in a sequence that will bring the MC to the point of potential change, but rather to explore all corners of the Story World until the nature of how all the elements and dynamics at work in that particular storyform are identified and understood.
My first thought as to how to use Dramatica to craft a game was, in fact, to provide a storyform for the player to inhabit. The player would be the Main Character of the story and some other character would be the Influence Character. And somehow they would develop a relationship that would fit perfectly into the Relationship Throughline. Turns out that might not be the right approach:
The player, by choosing in what order to explore the world is much better put in the position of narrator, the interlocutor who determines for himself or herself the order in which the components of the story world are to be explored - much as one might make multiple trips to a buffet table or select items in dim sum and choose the order in which to consume them.
Player as narrator, instead of player as Main Character. Instead of forcing the player to experience the story in the order it has to happen for the Main Character, the story gears the unfolding of the experience around the player's choices. In other words, as an element outside the system the player as narrator can't break the storyform. The engine merely compensates for the change in direction and offers the player the next piece of the puzzle–whatever piece he or she moved towards.
An IF in which the player is actually the narrator, then the MC appears from time to time in the story world, having experienced things in the proper order for him to make a choice, but likely in a different order than the player. For example, the MC in the story world shows up and the player says – "Let's work together and head up to the badlands." The MC replies, "Already been there, just before the big explosion. Change me in ways I'd rather not talk about, but it made me realize there may be another way of looking at the morality of this whole conflict." And then he disappears back into the battle.
Makes perfect sense. And accounts for the unpredictability of the player.
Application in Table Top Role-Playing GamesIt probably comes as no surprise that I always loved being the Dungeon Master growing up. Sure, it was fun sometimes to take my thieving hobbit off into a Cave of Chaos or into the Abyss every now and then, but the real fun for me was always creating the environment for my brother or friends to play in.
I wonder now if Dungeons & Dragons might be a good place to test out Melanie's player as narrator theory.
Over the summer, I had started to craft a storyform for my kids to inhabit but stopped when I was faced with the aspect of who the Main Character would be. Compound that with a group of kids who relish doing the opposite of what dad wants, and you've got the recipe for an afternoon disaster.
But now the approach is clear. Create a story for the kids to play in, but set the Main Character and the Influence Character as non-player characters. That way I can insure that they'll follow along in the proper Signpost order. The kids (or players) can choose to interact or step away as they wish, and in the end they'll have interacted with a satisfying and emotionally fulfilling story.
December 2015
By far, the most interesting conversation surrounding Dramatica today is the discussion of its application to interactive fiction. As a huge fan of Infocom's text-based adventures of yesteryear I find talk of an intelligent story engine running the show for gamers a very exciting development.
Melanie Anne Phillips, the other co-creator of Dramatica, recently took time out to address the use of the theory in gaming and even offers some insight into how this would be done:
Consider, then, the first-person player perspective in a game is not necessarily to provide experiences in a sequence that will bring the MC to the point of potential change, but rather to explore all corners of the Story World until the nature of how all the elements and dynamics at work in that particular storyform are identified and understood.
My first thought as to how to use Dramatica to craft a game was, in fact, to provide a storyform for the player to inhabit. The player would be the Main Character of the story and some other character would be the Influence Character. And somehow they would develop a relationship that would fit perfectly into the Relationship Throughline. Turns out that might not be the right approach:
The player, by choosing in what order to explore the world is much better put in the position of narrator, the interlocutor who determines for himself or herself the order in which the components of the story world are to be explored - much as one might make multiple trips to a buffet table or select items in dim sum and choose the order in which to consume them.
Player as narrator, instead of player as Main Character. Instead of forcing the player to experience the story in the order it has to happen for the Main Character, the story gears the unfolding of the experience around the player's choices. In other words, as an element outside the system the player as narrator can't break the storyform. The engine merely compensates for the change in direction and offers the player the next piece of the puzzle–whatever piece he or she moved towards.
An IF in which the player is actually the narrator, then the MC appears from time to time in the story world, having experienced things in the proper order for him to make a choice, but likely in a different order than the player. For example, the MC in the story world shows up and the player says – "Let's work together and head up to the badlands." The MC replies, "Already been there, just before the big explosion. Change me in ways I'd rather not talk about, but it made me realize there may be another way of looking at the morality of this whole conflict." And then he disappears back into the battle.
Makes perfect sense. And accounts for the unpredictability of the player.
Application in Table Top Role-Playing GamesIt probably comes as no surprise that I always loved being the Dungeon Master growing up. Sure, it was fun sometimes to take my thieving hobbit off into a Cave of Chaos or into the Abyss every now and then, but the real fun for me was always creating the environment for my brother or friends to play in.
I wonder now if Dungeons & Dragons might be a good place to test out Melanie's player as narrator theory.
Over the summer, I had started to craft a storyform for my kids to inhabit but stopped when I was faced with the aspect of who the Main Character would be. Compound that with a group of kids who relish doing the opposite of what dad wants, and you've got the recipe for an afternoon disaster.
But now the approach is clear. Create a story for the kids to play in, but set the Main Character and the Influence Character as non-player characters. That way I can insure that they'll follow along in the proper Signpost order. The kids (or players) can choose to interact or step away as they wish, and in the end they'll have interacted with a satisfying and emotionally fulfilling story.
How An Inequity—And A Story—Is Made
November 2015
Stories reflect the mind's problem-solving process. The story of how a mind arrives at the point where it requires this process is known as backstory. More than a background history lesson, this pre-story story can also be understood as a process of justification.
A frequently used example to describe what it means when Dramatica refers to "an inequity between characters and their environment" is the example of the desire for a new car and a car. I use it during my Weekend Workshops and I used it when I used to teach story at CalArts.
In short--the desire for a new car is not a problem. A car is not a problem. The desire for a car is not a problem. What does create the potential for a problem is the space between the two: the human mind sees this space as an inequity. When faced with an inequity you have two choices: resolve the inequity or justify it away.
November 2015
Stories reflect the mind's problem-solving process. The story of how a mind arrives at the point where it requires this process is known as backstory. More than a background history lesson, this pre-story story can also be understood as a process of justification.
A frequently used example to describe what it means when Dramatica refers to "an inequity between characters and their environment" is the example of the desire for a new car and a car. I use it during my Weekend Workshops and I used it when I used to teach story at CalArts.
In short--the desire for a new car is not a problem. A car is not a problem. The desire for a car is not a problem. What does create the potential for a problem is the space between the two: the human mind sees this space as an inequity. When faced with an inequity you have two choices: resolve the inequity or justify it away.
Resolving the InequityYou can resolve the inequity in different ways. For one, you could lose your desire for the new car. Get rid of the desire, no more separateness between things, no more inequity. Everything returns to Zen. OR you can get the car. Get the car, you no longer have a desire for it, no more space in-between, no more inequity, everything returns to normal.
But what if you don't have the means for a car AND you can't get rid of the desire? That's when you start the justification process.
Justifying the InequityWhen deciding the alternate path of justification, your mind first looks to see where it is going to focus its attention. Let's say you focus on the car. If you do that, then you "lock" the desire for the car away—you're no longer going to consider losing that desire as an option. Your attention is focused on the car.
With the desire locked away the car itself now becomes a PROBLEM. You don't have a car and that frustrates the heck out of you. The car is now a problem only because your mind determined it wasn't going to reconsider the desire. This is where the Justification process begins and where Dramatica fits in.
A Process for Solving ProblemsThe Dramatica model isn't showing you the inequity, the model is showing you the mind's problem-solving process. With the car as a problem, you automatically create a solution: more cash. Now you have a Problem (the car) and a Solution (more cash). But what if you don't have enough cash? Well then,you make not having cash a Problem by hiding that First Problem of not having a car. You've justified or hidden away that Problem and created a new Problem. Now you're looking for a Solution for a Solution.
This repeats until eventually you'll get to the 4th level of Justification (fully justified) where you are looking for a Solution for a Solution for a Solution; this is where most stories begin and where you can find yourself lost as to why you do the things you do. You're lost because you have TOTALLY forgotten your original motivation for why you behave the way you do. Sounds like a justified Main Character, right?
This story process (or storyform) depicts the process of tearing those justifications down, at least in a story that features a Main Character with a Changed Resolve. The next step in the cycle is where you'll find Steadfast Main Characters; their stories tell the process of building justifications up.
The storyform isn't about an inequity, but rather the mind's process of problem-solving or justifying a problem that came from an inequity between things.
But what if you don't have the means for a car AND you can't get rid of the desire? That's when you start the justification process.
Justifying the InequityWhen deciding the alternate path of justification, your mind first looks to see where it is going to focus its attention. Let's say you focus on the car. If you do that, then you "lock" the desire for the car away—you're no longer going to consider losing that desire as an option. Your attention is focused on the car.
With the desire locked away the car itself now becomes a PROBLEM. You don't have a car and that frustrates the heck out of you. The car is now a problem only because your mind determined it wasn't going to reconsider the desire. This is where the Justification process begins and where Dramatica fits in.
A Process for Solving ProblemsThe Dramatica model isn't showing you the inequity, the model is showing you the mind's problem-solving process. With the car as a problem, you automatically create a solution: more cash. Now you have a Problem (the car) and a Solution (more cash). But what if you don't have enough cash? Well then,you make not having cash a Problem by hiding that First Problem of not having a car. You've justified or hidden away that Problem and created a new Problem. Now you're looking for a Solution for a Solution.
This repeats until eventually you'll get to the 4th level of Justification (fully justified) where you are looking for a Solution for a Solution for a Solution; this is where most stories begin and where you can find yourself lost as to why you do the things you do. You're lost because you have TOTALLY forgotten your original motivation for why you behave the way you do. Sounds like a justified Main Character, right?
This story process (or storyform) depicts the process of tearing those justifications down, at least in a story that features a Main Character with a Changed Resolve. The next step in the cycle is where you'll find Steadfast Main Characters; their stories tell the process of building justifications up.
The storyform isn't about an inequity, but rather the mind's process of problem-solving or justifying a problem that came from an inequity between things.
Narrative First
September 2015
Recently I have returned to blogging daily on my Narrative First site. While not as in-depth into story structure as most of my articles, these blog posts–or thoughts–still catalog my findings and experiences into the world of narrative theory, and in particular Dramatica. The following is an entry expanding on some help I gave an Author interested in applying the theory to his work. You can follow my blog daily at http://narrativefirst.com/blog
Earlier today I helped a writer figure out the structure of their story over on Discuss Dramatica and understand which character should fulfill what role. You'll note that I tried my best to interpret what the Author was trying to say, not mutate their story into a specific set of hero steps or sequence beats.
This is when narrative theory shines: the tools and concepts amplify or solidify the Author's original intent or creative vision.
Note too my advice to “open the story up.” Dramatica naturally causes this to happen by virtue of its Four Throughlines and through its concept of separating the Protagonist from Main Character. Most understandings of story tend to reduce thematic material, rather than encourage greater production.
The Author made some of the more common mistakes those new to Dramatica make: thinking of the Protagonist when determining Main Character Resolve and Main Character Growth (when it should really be all about the Main Character) and not being ultra-clear on the connection between the Story Goal and the Story Outcome. The solution to the latter problem is easy enough:
September 2015
Recently I have returned to blogging daily on my Narrative First site. While not as in-depth into story structure as most of my articles, these blog posts–or thoughts–still catalog my findings and experiences into the world of narrative theory, and in particular Dramatica. The following is an entry expanding on some help I gave an Author interested in applying the theory to his work. You can follow my blog daily at http://narrativefirst.com/blog
Earlier today I helped a writer figure out the structure of their story over on Discuss Dramatica and understand which character should fulfill what role. You'll note that I tried my best to interpret what the Author was trying to say, not mutate their story into a specific set of hero steps or sequence beats.
This is when narrative theory shines: the tools and concepts amplify or solidify the Author's original intent or creative vision.
Note too my advice to “open the story up.” Dramatica naturally causes this to happen by virtue of its Four Throughlines and through its concept of separating the Protagonist from Main Character. Most understandings of story tend to reduce thematic material, rather than encourage greater production.
The Author made some of the more common mistakes those new to Dramatica make: thinking of the Protagonist when determining Main Character Resolve and Main Character Growth (when it should really be all about the Main Character) and not being ultra-clear on the connection between the Story Goal and the Story Outcome. The solution to the latter problem is easy enough:
- Determine the inequity of the story (what went wrong during the Inciting Incident)
- Establish the Goal necessary to resolve that inequity, or bring it back into balance
- The person for that resolution is the Protagonist. The person against it, the one preventing it, is the Antagonist
- If the Protagonist wins the Story Outcome is a Success. If they don't, it's a Failure
This article originally appeared on Jim's Narrative First website. Hundreds of insightful articles, like this one, can be found in the Article Archives. Jim will be leading a 2-day Introductory Dramatica Writers Workshop this September 19-20. Put story theory to work! Learn more
The True Definition of a Protagonist
August 2015
Many think they know, but the comfort of their preconceptions blinds them to the complexity of sophisticated storytelling. For thousands and thousands of years, many believed the Earth to be the center of the Universe. A lie mutually agreed upon is still a lie.
Earlier this year the distinction was made between the Main Character and the Protagonist. It was met with varying degrees of interest and ridicule, the latter coming as a result of perhaps a failure to adequately describe the intricacies of a story that doesn't assume both are one and the same. There can be no argument that the commonly accepted definition of the Protagonist is “who the story is about.” Whether or not this understanding is beneficial for writers hoping to create something of import is quite another.
Once a writer understands the difference between Main Character and Protagonist, whole worlds of possible storylines open up to them. Why should a writer be confined to stories where the character the audience identifies most with is also one the leading the charge? Aren't there aspects of life where we aren't guiding the boat, where we aren't the ones in control? Don't those moments have meaning as well?
It would be great to tell a story about an innocent man trying to escape jail…from the perspective of another inmate who lost hope a long time ago. Wait, that's already been done–in The Shawshank Redemption. Or what about a story where a writer in East Germany tries to broadcast the plight of his people…from the perspective of the man forced to spy on him. Shoot, they did that one already with The Lives of Others (Des Leben der Anderen).
Well then, what about the story of a corporate litigator trying to maintain her company's globally friendly reputation…from the perspective of the man held responsible for keeping that company's nefarious backroom dealings a secret. Too late.
Tony Gilroy already did it with his masterful film, Michael Clayton.
One Doesn't Imply The Other
The difference between the two is simple: The Main Character represents the audience's eyes into the story, the Protagonist pursues the goal of the story. Sometimes they are played by the same character, as with Luke Skywalker in Star Wars or Clarice Starling in The Silence of the Lambs. Sometimes they are not, as with the examples above of Red in Shawshank and Wiesler in The Lives of Others. They key is in understanding that the assignment of the Protagonist comes as a result of a logical assessment, not an emotional one, as is the case with the Main Character.
Thus, the Main Character is not always the key focus of a story. Shawshank is about Andy Dufresne and his unjust imprisonment, yet we experience the film through Red's eyes. Amadeus is about Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, yet we see his wild antics through poor mediocre Salieri. A character may be the subject matter of a piece without also being the one we receive intimate personal insight into. Empathy dictates Main Character, not sympathy.
The Protagonist is not always the one who changes in the story. Clarice doesn't change. Salieri doesn't. Jake Gittes in Chinatown doesn't, yet each one of these characters is driven to solve their story's individual problems - the key definition of a story's Protagonist. Clarice endeavors to stop Buffalo Bill. Salieri wants to be remembered. And Jake leads the investigation to figure out what really happened all those years ago.
It is apparent that there too are big problems happening in Michael Clayton and that there are efforts being made to resolve them. But what isn't as straightforward is what the outcome of it all means. Discovering that requires a closer look at the meaning behind the ending of the film.
Bittersweet Endings
Without a doubt, Michael Clayton has a bittersweet ending. Even though the good guys have won, there is no Throne Room sequence like there is in Star Wars and there aren't fighter pilots jumping up and down with glee like there are in Top Gun. This victory is much more personal.
And it isn't the kind of bittersweet ending one finds in films like Silence of the Lambs or Chinatown. In contrast to Clarice or Jake, Michael is in a much better place at the end of his story. He has resolved his issues with his family, grown closer to his estranged brothers, and, going on, one can imagine Michael will improve his superficial relationship with his son. That masterfully acted scene in the cab is proof of this emotional state of peace–it ends with a slight smile on his face, recognition that he has come through the other side a better man.
For a story to have that bittersweet ending there needs to be a juxtaposition between the Main Character's emotional state at the end of the film and the outcome of the headline, or main story line. That's the very definition of bitter and sweet. In the case of Silence or Chinatown, both Main Characters are left with unresolved feelings, yet their respective cases have been solved. Jake still doesn't get it and Clarice still hears crying lambs. Michael Clayton has and therefore requires that the main story line must end in failure.
But the good guys won? How can this be…
The Pursuit of the Goal
Who in Michael Clayton is most driven to get what they want? Who is driven to pursue this goal at any cost, regardless of who must be disposed of in order to accomplish it?
Karen.
From a purely objective context, which is where a writer must sit during the construction of a story's structure, the character who is driven to Pursue the Goal is the Protagonist. This motivation to pursue must be present within every act otherwise the story will breakdown (as was the case in Zombieland). If that motivation wanes or “dies” somehow, then the story will slow down and meander aimlessly.
Michael Clayton does not suffer from this problem.
That is why Arthur cannot be the Protagonist and why, by proxy, Michael himself can't foot the bill once his best friend finds greener pastures. Michael could care less about uNorth until ¾ of the way through when they finally take a shot at his life. Arthur? Sure Arthur would like to take them down, but he is more like the fly in the ointment rather than the one actively pursuing a clear goal from the very beginning. In this respect, he is acting more like the Antagonist, trying to prevent a negative goal from happening.
It is Karen who is driving the story towards the goal of having uNorth escape this lawsuit unscathed. As an audience we may find this act reprehensible, but objectively–without preconceptions of right or wrong–it becomes clear that this is what is truly going on. This construct is what makes Michael Clayton seem so complex and why it feels more sophisticated than most of the typical Hollywood blockbusters.
There are no cats to save in this film.
Negative Goals
While the Goal of the story is purely an objective concept, the Author's own preconceived notions about what is right or wrong often find their way into it. This is why, for the most the part, the difference between Protagonist and Antagonist lies within who is the “good guy” and who is the “bad guy.” When this isn't the case, and the Author constructs a story where the bad guy is leading the charge to resolve the story's problem, the story is said to have a Negative Goal.
A Negative Goal is one many in the audience might find detestable or immoral. In Reservoir Dogs, the bad guys– Mr. White (Harvey Keitel) et. al.–work to escape from their bungled jewelry heist while simultaneously trying to identify who “the rat” is. While outside of the world of the story it may be difficult to side with vicious jewelry thieves with an affinity for ear removal, the problems that Quentin Tarantino constructed for these characters placed these crooks at the head of the charge to resolve them. They become sympathetic as we naturally root for those attempting to conquer inequity.
As mentioned before in the article Determining Your Protagonist's Goal, the key word here is Pro-tagonist. This character is for something, this character is working towards solving the problem at hand. And because stories are about solving problems, it only makes sense that audiences would typically cheer for someone working diligently to solve that problem.
From the very beginning, Karen represents the drive to pursue in the larger context of the story. In fact, another quality of an Archetypal Protagonist, that of being driven to weigh the pros and cons of a situation, can also be applied to her. Whether it is in front of the mirror practicing her speeches or out on the street corner debating whether or not to give the “green light” for Arthur's systematic removal, Karen is the one character faced with the heavy decisions related to the story's larger problem.
Karen's failure is what makes Michael Clayton feel bittersweet.
It is also helpful to note that the concept of the Protagonist does not exist in a vacuum; there are many different aspects of a story's structure that are tied to it. In the same way that the Protagonist's success or failure helps to determine the eventual outcome of a story, the kind of pressures the Protagonist faces also aids in determining the scope of a story. Knowing who the real driver of a story is can help in identifying the limits that keep a story from wandering around pointlessly.
Reining In The Story
Arguments can go on forever if there aren't limits placed on them. It is the same with stories. Some stories are limited by time, some by the number of options left open to the Protagonist. High Noon is an example of the first. Michael Clayton is an example of the second. Stories that meander often don't have this limit clearly set for the audience. This can often happen when there is confusion over who the real Protagonist is.
With Karen in place as the Protagonist, it becomes very clear what the options in the story are: There are only so many ways she can deal with a mad rogue attorney running around with damning evidence. She has to get rid of everyone who had contact with it (including the attorney himself) and destroy any proof of it before the story can come to its rightful conclusion. Once that final option has been dealt with (Michael in his car), Karen can meet with the members of the board at that convention center and tell them confidently that everything is going to be hunky-dory.
This final scene would be the climax of the story–that moment in a story when the limit has been reached and the Main Character must come to a decision regarding their resolve. As the smoke from his flamed-out Mercedes recedes, Michael finally decides to call his brother for help (something he never would have done at the beginning of the story) and captures Karen's bribe on tape–ending the story.
If it were Michael or Arthur as the Protagonist it becomes less clear as to what the options would have been. They perhaps could have been to meet with the girl affected by uNorth's products or maybe even to get the copies of the evidence out for the world to see. But these seem weak and murky, and are interpretations of what could be there rather than what is there. The limits help to solidify the story into one meaningful piece.
A Structural Understanding of Story
Determining who the real Protagonist is and understanding their role in the telling of a story helps to point out to a writer where they may be problems in his or her story. A majority of popular story paradigms might call for a rewrite of Michael Clayton because Michael is not a “willful protagonist” or because his “external needs” do not conflict properly with what he really “internally wants.” This advice, while well intentioned, would only lead to murkier drafts and more disappointment.
Besides, does anyone really think Michael Clayton needs to be rewritten?
The story works. And the reason it works so well and seems so unique in its complexity is because, structurally, it differs from everything else out there. Predictability goes out the window as the patterns set up to establish the story are unfamiliar to those who can now download a movie to their phone in under thirty minutes.
Michael Clayton's relatively minor box-office success could be more attributed to a lack of marketing expertise in much the same way that The Iron Giant disappeared without a trace, or how it took ten years for The Shawshank Redemption to finally find its place in history. Perhaps the same fate lies in wait for this Gilroy and Clooney collaboration, for if one thing is for sure, the film calls for repeated viewings which in turn, result in even greater moments of appreciation for what was accomplished.
Great well-told stories always have this effect on audiences.
Advanced Story Theory for this Article
One of the greatest contributions to the world of storytelling comes from the Dramatica theory of story and its understanding that the concepts of Main Character and Protagonist are not one and the same. This appreciation of what is really going on in a story is one of those things that makes the theory so special. Instead of becoming a reductive mandate like so many other rules espoused by gurus and experts of story, this concept opens up so many more creative avenues–giving the writer a chance to produce things as yet unseen.
As far as Michael Clayton goes the Story Outcome is a Failure and the Story Judgment is Good. Then corresponds with that “bittersweet” feeling the film has at the end. As explained above, the other bittersweet ending–the Success/Bad scenario–doesn't quite fit in here as Michael has clearly overcome his personal issues and at the end of the cab ride has found a relative place of peace. The climax is brought about by a Story Limit of Optionlock.
With Karen as the Protagonist (driven by Pursuit and Consider), Arthur becomes the Antagonist (Prevent and Reconsider), though his presence is more about trying to get others to question their actions based on new information than it is actually trying to Prevent something from happening.
Michael's place in the Objective Story Throughline becomes less of a slam-dunk which also speaks to the complexity of this film. This isn't Avatar–the characters within are rich and unique not only in their presentation but also within their roles structurally. Yet another reason why this film becomes one of the cherished few by fans of great storytelling.
August 2015
Many think they know, but the comfort of their preconceptions blinds them to the complexity of sophisticated storytelling. For thousands and thousands of years, many believed the Earth to be the center of the Universe. A lie mutually agreed upon is still a lie.
Earlier this year the distinction was made between the Main Character and the Protagonist. It was met with varying degrees of interest and ridicule, the latter coming as a result of perhaps a failure to adequately describe the intricacies of a story that doesn't assume both are one and the same. There can be no argument that the commonly accepted definition of the Protagonist is “who the story is about.” Whether or not this understanding is beneficial for writers hoping to create something of import is quite another.
Once a writer understands the difference between Main Character and Protagonist, whole worlds of possible storylines open up to them. Why should a writer be confined to stories where the character the audience identifies most with is also one the leading the charge? Aren't there aspects of life where we aren't guiding the boat, where we aren't the ones in control? Don't those moments have meaning as well?
It would be great to tell a story about an innocent man trying to escape jail…from the perspective of another inmate who lost hope a long time ago. Wait, that's already been done–in The Shawshank Redemption. Or what about a story where a writer in East Germany tries to broadcast the plight of his people…from the perspective of the man forced to spy on him. Shoot, they did that one already with The Lives of Others (Des Leben der Anderen).
Well then, what about the story of a corporate litigator trying to maintain her company's globally friendly reputation…from the perspective of the man held responsible for keeping that company's nefarious backroom dealings a secret. Too late.
Tony Gilroy already did it with his masterful film, Michael Clayton.
One Doesn't Imply The Other
The difference between the two is simple: The Main Character represents the audience's eyes into the story, the Protagonist pursues the goal of the story. Sometimes they are played by the same character, as with Luke Skywalker in Star Wars or Clarice Starling in The Silence of the Lambs. Sometimes they are not, as with the examples above of Red in Shawshank and Wiesler in The Lives of Others. They key is in understanding that the assignment of the Protagonist comes as a result of a logical assessment, not an emotional one, as is the case with the Main Character.
Thus, the Main Character is not always the key focus of a story. Shawshank is about Andy Dufresne and his unjust imprisonment, yet we experience the film through Red's eyes. Amadeus is about Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, yet we see his wild antics through poor mediocre Salieri. A character may be the subject matter of a piece without also being the one we receive intimate personal insight into. Empathy dictates Main Character, not sympathy.
The Protagonist is not always the one who changes in the story. Clarice doesn't change. Salieri doesn't. Jake Gittes in Chinatown doesn't, yet each one of these characters is driven to solve their story's individual problems - the key definition of a story's Protagonist. Clarice endeavors to stop Buffalo Bill. Salieri wants to be remembered. And Jake leads the investigation to figure out what really happened all those years ago.
It is apparent that there too are big problems happening in Michael Clayton and that there are efforts being made to resolve them. But what isn't as straightforward is what the outcome of it all means. Discovering that requires a closer look at the meaning behind the ending of the film.
Bittersweet Endings
Without a doubt, Michael Clayton has a bittersweet ending. Even though the good guys have won, there is no Throne Room sequence like there is in Star Wars and there aren't fighter pilots jumping up and down with glee like there are in Top Gun. This victory is much more personal.
And it isn't the kind of bittersweet ending one finds in films like Silence of the Lambs or Chinatown. In contrast to Clarice or Jake, Michael is in a much better place at the end of his story. He has resolved his issues with his family, grown closer to his estranged brothers, and, going on, one can imagine Michael will improve his superficial relationship with his son. That masterfully acted scene in the cab is proof of this emotional state of peace–it ends with a slight smile on his face, recognition that he has come through the other side a better man.
For a story to have that bittersweet ending there needs to be a juxtaposition between the Main Character's emotional state at the end of the film and the outcome of the headline, or main story line. That's the very definition of bitter and sweet. In the case of Silence or Chinatown, both Main Characters are left with unresolved feelings, yet their respective cases have been solved. Jake still doesn't get it and Clarice still hears crying lambs. Michael Clayton has and therefore requires that the main story line must end in failure.
But the good guys won? How can this be…
The Pursuit of the Goal
Who in Michael Clayton is most driven to get what they want? Who is driven to pursue this goal at any cost, regardless of who must be disposed of in order to accomplish it?
Karen.
From a purely objective context, which is where a writer must sit during the construction of a story's structure, the character who is driven to Pursue the Goal is the Protagonist. This motivation to pursue must be present within every act otherwise the story will breakdown (as was the case in Zombieland). If that motivation wanes or “dies” somehow, then the story will slow down and meander aimlessly.
Michael Clayton does not suffer from this problem.
That is why Arthur cannot be the Protagonist and why, by proxy, Michael himself can't foot the bill once his best friend finds greener pastures. Michael could care less about uNorth until ¾ of the way through when they finally take a shot at his life. Arthur? Sure Arthur would like to take them down, but he is more like the fly in the ointment rather than the one actively pursuing a clear goal from the very beginning. In this respect, he is acting more like the Antagonist, trying to prevent a negative goal from happening.
It is Karen who is driving the story towards the goal of having uNorth escape this lawsuit unscathed. As an audience we may find this act reprehensible, but objectively–without preconceptions of right or wrong–it becomes clear that this is what is truly going on. This construct is what makes Michael Clayton seem so complex and why it feels more sophisticated than most of the typical Hollywood blockbusters.
There are no cats to save in this film.
Negative Goals
While the Goal of the story is purely an objective concept, the Author's own preconceived notions about what is right or wrong often find their way into it. This is why, for the most the part, the difference between Protagonist and Antagonist lies within who is the “good guy” and who is the “bad guy.” When this isn't the case, and the Author constructs a story where the bad guy is leading the charge to resolve the story's problem, the story is said to have a Negative Goal.
A Negative Goal is one many in the audience might find detestable or immoral. In Reservoir Dogs, the bad guys– Mr. White (Harvey Keitel) et. al.–work to escape from their bungled jewelry heist while simultaneously trying to identify who “the rat” is. While outside of the world of the story it may be difficult to side with vicious jewelry thieves with an affinity for ear removal, the problems that Quentin Tarantino constructed for these characters placed these crooks at the head of the charge to resolve them. They become sympathetic as we naturally root for those attempting to conquer inequity.
As mentioned before in the article Determining Your Protagonist's Goal, the key word here is Pro-tagonist. This character is for something, this character is working towards solving the problem at hand. And because stories are about solving problems, it only makes sense that audiences would typically cheer for someone working diligently to solve that problem.
From the very beginning, Karen represents the drive to pursue in the larger context of the story. In fact, another quality of an Archetypal Protagonist, that of being driven to weigh the pros and cons of a situation, can also be applied to her. Whether it is in front of the mirror practicing her speeches or out on the street corner debating whether or not to give the “green light” for Arthur's systematic removal, Karen is the one character faced with the heavy decisions related to the story's larger problem.
Karen's failure is what makes Michael Clayton feel bittersweet.
It is also helpful to note that the concept of the Protagonist does not exist in a vacuum; there are many different aspects of a story's structure that are tied to it. In the same way that the Protagonist's success or failure helps to determine the eventual outcome of a story, the kind of pressures the Protagonist faces also aids in determining the scope of a story. Knowing who the real driver of a story is can help in identifying the limits that keep a story from wandering around pointlessly.
Reining In The Story
Arguments can go on forever if there aren't limits placed on them. It is the same with stories. Some stories are limited by time, some by the number of options left open to the Protagonist. High Noon is an example of the first. Michael Clayton is an example of the second. Stories that meander often don't have this limit clearly set for the audience. This can often happen when there is confusion over who the real Protagonist is.
With Karen in place as the Protagonist, it becomes very clear what the options in the story are: There are only so many ways she can deal with a mad rogue attorney running around with damning evidence. She has to get rid of everyone who had contact with it (including the attorney himself) and destroy any proof of it before the story can come to its rightful conclusion. Once that final option has been dealt with (Michael in his car), Karen can meet with the members of the board at that convention center and tell them confidently that everything is going to be hunky-dory.
This final scene would be the climax of the story–that moment in a story when the limit has been reached and the Main Character must come to a decision regarding their resolve. As the smoke from his flamed-out Mercedes recedes, Michael finally decides to call his brother for help (something he never would have done at the beginning of the story) and captures Karen's bribe on tape–ending the story.
If it were Michael or Arthur as the Protagonist it becomes less clear as to what the options would have been. They perhaps could have been to meet with the girl affected by uNorth's products or maybe even to get the copies of the evidence out for the world to see. But these seem weak and murky, and are interpretations of what could be there rather than what is there. The limits help to solidify the story into one meaningful piece.
A Structural Understanding of Story
Determining who the real Protagonist is and understanding their role in the telling of a story helps to point out to a writer where they may be problems in his or her story. A majority of popular story paradigms might call for a rewrite of Michael Clayton because Michael is not a “willful protagonist” or because his “external needs” do not conflict properly with what he really “internally wants.” This advice, while well intentioned, would only lead to murkier drafts and more disappointment.
Besides, does anyone really think Michael Clayton needs to be rewritten?
The story works. And the reason it works so well and seems so unique in its complexity is because, structurally, it differs from everything else out there. Predictability goes out the window as the patterns set up to establish the story are unfamiliar to those who can now download a movie to their phone in under thirty minutes.
Michael Clayton's relatively minor box-office success could be more attributed to a lack of marketing expertise in much the same way that The Iron Giant disappeared without a trace, or how it took ten years for The Shawshank Redemption to finally find its place in history. Perhaps the same fate lies in wait for this Gilroy and Clooney collaboration, for if one thing is for sure, the film calls for repeated viewings which in turn, result in even greater moments of appreciation for what was accomplished.
Great well-told stories always have this effect on audiences.
Advanced Story Theory for this Article
One of the greatest contributions to the world of storytelling comes from the Dramatica theory of story and its understanding that the concepts of Main Character and Protagonist are not one and the same. This appreciation of what is really going on in a story is one of those things that makes the theory so special. Instead of becoming a reductive mandate like so many other rules espoused by gurus and experts of story, this concept opens up so many more creative avenues–giving the writer a chance to produce things as yet unseen.
As far as Michael Clayton goes the Story Outcome is a Failure and the Story Judgment is Good. Then corresponds with that “bittersweet” feeling the film has at the end. As explained above, the other bittersweet ending–the Success/Bad scenario–doesn't quite fit in here as Michael has clearly overcome his personal issues and at the end of the cab ride has found a relative place of peace. The climax is brought about by a Story Limit of Optionlock.
With Karen as the Protagonist (driven by Pursuit and Consider), Arthur becomes the Antagonist (Prevent and Reconsider), though his presence is more about trying to get others to question their actions based on new information than it is actually trying to Prevent something from happening.
Michael's place in the Objective Story Throughline becomes less of a slam-dunk which also speaks to the complexity of this film. This isn't Avatar–the characters within are rich and unique not only in their presentation but also within their roles structurally. Yet another reason why this film becomes one of the cherished few by fans of great storytelling.
This article originally appeared on Jim's Narrative First website. Hundreds of insightful articles, like this one, can be found in the Article Archives. Jim will be leading a 2-day Introductory Dramatica Writers Workshop this September 19-20. Put story theory to work! Learn more
The Actual and Apparent Nature of Story
July 2015
When seen in its entirety, a story maintains a certain nature. Whether something external the Main Character needs to work through or something they themselves need to personally work through, the resolution of the story's central inequity carries a code of greater understanding.
In the exploratory article Work Stories vs. Dilemma Stories :Dramaticapedia, Dramatica co-creator Melanie Anne Phillips posits the idea of Work Stories and Dilemma Stories.
If the problem CAN be solved, though the effort may be difficult or dangerous, and in the end we DO succeed by working at it, we have a Work Story. But if the Problem CAN’T be solved, in the case of a Dilemma, once everything possible has been tried and the Problem still remains, we have a Dilemma Story.
Defined now as Story Nature, this is one of those Dramatica concepts that has developed over time. Chris and Melanie are geniuses when it comes to story,1 but they didn't necessarily get everything right the first time around. Articles like this are compelling because you can sense the seed of some better understanding of story within the ideas. Through the years their understanding has improved and the definitions of the theory improved.
Dramatica defines the Nature of a story as:
the primary dramatic mechanism of a story
Which makes it sound super important. The truth is, like the Crucial Element, the Nature of a Story is one of those story points that is only important in so much as it informs the Author as to what kind of a story they are telling. You don't need to know it to write a good story or to make sure you don't have any story holes, but it is an interesting way to appreciate the kind of story you are telling.
Defining the Nature of a Story The current version of Dramatica describes Apparent Work stories, Actual Work stories, Apparent Dilemmas, and Actual Dilemmas. The differentiator between Actual and Apparent lies in whether not the Main Character was on the right course or not when it comes to solving the story's inequity. 2
The Steadfast Dilemma In reality, both sets of stories have the Main Character faced with that dilemma-type decision whether overtly or subtle, conscious or subconscious. You can have Steadfast characters who waver at the end and Main Characters who are on that path to Change their resolve from the very beginning.
William Wallace faced a pretty real dilemma at the end of Braveheart (“confess …”) even though by definition his was an Actual Work story. And Dr. Malcolm Crowe never really faced a dilemma in The Sixth Sense; he basically rode a straight path to having his resolve changed even though by definition he was in an Actual Dilemma story.
These terms Apparent and Actual help clarify the story's engine for the Author. They might be something the Audience eventually “gets” from the storyform, but it won't be a conscious consideration. The story point is simply there to make it easier for the Author to stay consistent with the story's purpose.
Locating the Nature of a Story All four of these story points, or story appreciations, are available in Dramatica Story Expert. You can't pick them specifically–the program identifies for you what kind of story you have based on other choices you have made. You can find this story point in the Audience Appreciation section either in the Query System or the Story Points section.
July 2015
When seen in its entirety, a story maintains a certain nature. Whether something external the Main Character needs to work through or something they themselves need to personally work through, the resolution of the story's central inequity carries a code of greater understanding.
In the exploratory article Work Stories vs. Dilemma Stories :Dramaticapedia, Dramatica co-creator Melanie Anne Phillips posits the idea of Work Stories and Dilemma Stories.
If the problem CAN be solved, though the effort may be difficult or dangerous, and in the end we DO succeed by working at it, we have a Work Story. But if the Problem CAN’T be solved, in the case of a Dilemma, once everything possible has been tried and the Problem still remains, we have a Dilemma Story.
Defined now as Story Nature, this is one of those Dramatica concepts that has developed over time. Chris and Melanie are geniuses when it comes to story,1 but they didn't necessarily get everything right the first time around. Articles like this are compelling because you can sense the seed of some better understanding of story within the ideas. Through the years their understanding has improved and the definitions of the theory improved.
Dramatica defines the Nature of a story as:
the primary dramatic mechanism of a story
Which makes it sound super important. The truth is, like the Crucial Element, the Nature of a Story is one of those story points that is only important in so much as it informs the Author as to what kind of a story they are telling. You don't need to know it to write a good story or to make sure you don't have any story holes, but it is an interesting way to appreciate the kind of story you are telling.
Defining the Nature of a Story The current version of Dramatica describes Apparent Work stories, Actual Work stories, Apparent Dilemmas, and Actual Dilemmas. The differentiator between Actual and Apparent lies in whether not the Main Character was on the right course or not when it comes to solving the story's inequity. 2
- If their Resolve is Changed and they solve the story's problem then it is an Actual Dilemma
- If their Resolve is Changed and they fail to solve the story's problem then it was an Apparent Dilemma
- If the Main Character's Resolve remains Steadfast and they solve the story's problem then it is an Actual Work story
- If the Main Characters Resolve remains Steadfast and they fail to solve the story's problem then it was an Apparent Work story
The Steadfast Dilemma In reality, both sets of stories have the Main Character faced with that dilemma-type decision whether overtly or subtle, conscious or subconscious. You can have Steadfast characters who waver at the end and Main Characters who are on that path to Change their resolve from the very beginning.
William Wallace faced a pretty real dilemma at the end of Braveheart (“confess …”) even though by definition his was an Actual Work story. And Dr. Malcolm Crowe never really faced a dilemma in The Sixth Sense; he basically rode a straight path to having his resolve changed even though by definition he was in an Actual Dilemma story.
These terms Apparent and Actual help clarify the story's engine for the Author. They might be something the Audience eventually “gets” from the storyform, but it won't be a conscious consideration. The story point is simply there to make it easier for the Author to stay consistent with the story's purpose.
Locating the Nature of a Story All four of these story points, or story appreciations, are available in Dramatica Story Expert. You can't pick them specifically–the program identifies for you what kind of story you have based on other choices you have made. You can find this story point in the Audience Appreciation section either in the Query System or the Story Points section.
- Chris Huntley and Melanie Anne Phillips, co-creators of the Dramatica theory of story. ↩
- If you're new to Dramatica you might want to learn more about the Main Character Resolve and the Story Outcome, the two story points Story Nature depends on. ↩
On the Need for Plot Points
June 2015
Some cry contrivance. Others lament convention. And even more bemoan the influence of the ideologue. Writers will do anything, it seems, to avoid understanding what it is they are really doing.
As my story consultancy grows, I begin to witness patterns in behavior. Writers act like other writers. They safeguard themselves from the pain of unraveling what they know about story by hiding behind Aristotle, claims of artistic integrity, or the stifling weight of an outline. Their most consistent mistake rests in the assumption that the main plot of a story (or "A" story line) is simply the framework that all the really important stuff hangs from; that character and relationships reign supreme.
It’s all important stuff.
True, some writers emphasize character over the machinations of the story world at large, but in the end both still need to be present in order for the Audience to make sense of what has happened.
The Interlocking of Character and Plot
Character cannot claim prominence over plot as both exist simultaneously within a piece of narrative, regardless of Author’s intent. Character represents a subjective context on the matters at hand, while plot portrays an objective context. One can’t simply cast the other unimportant because they find it unnecessary any more than they can disavow general relativity because stars are pretty. A subjective context presupposes an objective one.
The Dramatica theory of story exposes the difference between the objective view and subjective with its concept of the four throughlines. The Main Character Throughline and the Relationship Story Throughline manage the subjective view of the narrative while the Overall Story Throughline and the Influence Character Throughline handle the objective. Writers who write from the heart often leave out these last two. They may pay lip service to an Overall Story Throughline by casting the Main Character into the role of Protagonist and claiming the events "his" story, but by doing so fail to properly explore this throughline by centering on one character’s point-of-view.1
That’s not objective.
Objective sees Goals and Consequences. It sees Protagonist and Antagonists and Limits and Plot Points.2 Requirements, Forewarnings, Costs and Dividends. Success or Failure determine its Outcome and each and every character holds itself at arm-length, described only by its function within this view.
Many writers consider this larger perspective to be "unnecessary" or just the "MacGuffin" or mechanical" or "too limiting" to their work. Writing this perspective offers little in terms of emotional expressionism. The fun part of writing—the reason many take to pen in the first place-lies in jumping into the character’s heads, becoming them, feeling what they’re feeling and working towards communicating the emotions they feel inside. Writers such as these wish to express their fanciful associations to the text.
That’s the fun stuff.
Objective, overall-these are not the words of a writer who wears his heart on his sleeve or one who wears his heart on the page. But they are the words of a writer who enjoys mastery over his or her own text.
An Objective Look at Things
Conflict arises as a result of inequity. Everything before the story = equity. Everything after the story starts = inequity. The first "event" upsets the equity of things and compels one or another to bring about resolution.3 If that person is successful then the story has resolution and equity returns. If that person fails, then the story ends with inequity.
That person is the Protagonist of the story.
The concept of the Protagonist exists as a shorthand term to describe the character pushing for this resolution. The Antagonist operates as a shorthand term for character(s) preventing this resolution. One works for the Goal and successful resolution. One works against the Goal and would prefer the Consequences instead. Stories without these two forces lack narrative drive.
The Slice of Life Cop-Out
Stories that fail to provide these two alternative views cannot claim to be stories. Whether a slice-of-life tone poem (The Tree of Life) or a simple tale designed to satiate the senses (any Transformers movie), narrative that offers one offers offers only a part. From the perspective of an artist living present within the spirit with which gives him or her rise, this approach fulfills. Understand, though, that Audiences desire more and may not be as forgiving or appreciative of only one-half of the story. They expect and deserve a complete story.
Every audience member brings with them a mind to interpret and interpolate the narrative in question. Every mind operates under the same biological and biochemical process. Though our individual capabilities might fluctuate, our mechanism of problem-solving functions the same. Conflict resolution requires context and an appreciation of the difference between subjective and objective. If a story only provides one side of the story, the mind rebels, walks out muttering something about "story holes" or "false characters" or simply "a bad story." Audiences expect some greater context to appreciate the relationships between the characters.
The Great Models of Narrative
All great narratives work this way. The external conflict generated by the inequity of the story reflects itself in the juxtaposition between the smaller inter-personal relationship between two characters and the larger objectified relationships between all the characters.
In Pride and Prejudice you have Elizabeth and Darcy and their romantic relationship set against the social challenges of 19th century England’s upper class values tow marriage and choice. One can see the problems of the Wickhams, the Collins, the Bingleys, and, of course, the Bennets more than simply backdrop for romance. Their actions compliment and inform the conflict between the choices and actions taken by the two beginning a new love. Where would Elizabeth’s struggle with first impressions and temptation be were it not for her youngest sister giving in to the same?
Comparable conflicts lie within Romeo & Juliet. The interpersonal relationship between the two takes center stage, but Shakespeare also manages to weave in the war between the Capulets and the Montagues. Misplaced expectations and a rush to resolve intolerable circumstances describe the personal as well as the extra-personal. Friar Lawrence, Tybalt, Lord Capulet and Mercutio need be present for the relationship between the star-crossed lovers to carry with it some greater meaning.
And then finally we have the greatest novel of the 20th century-To Kill a Mockingbird. Here one can see the prejudice and racism that comes with the Southern murder trial of a black man reflected in the interpersonal prejudice between a young girl and the boogeyman across the street. The genius of that novel lies in the positioning of these two views. One sees Atticus the Protagonist trying to resolve the inequity perpetuated by Antagonist Bob Ewell and others: the false accusation of rape against Tom Robinson. But one also gets to experience racism and prejudice from the inside by taking the journey with Scout and her shedding of preconceptions in regards to Boo Radley.
Audiences need both the subjective and the objective to emotionally understand and ultimately make sense of the conflict presented to them.
The objective view of a story sounds mechanical and boring and formulaic and prescriptive. It is. And it is so because it is, in fact, OBJECTIVE. This view is mechanical and boring and prescriptive.4 The writer must assume an objective view of conflict resolution and ask Who are the players? What are they motivated by? How does it all play out in the end?
Key Questions to Ask When Writing this Perspective
Those who don’t only have themselves to blame for a story that lacks direction or fails to capture and engage the minds of their Audience.
The Search for Meaning in the Meaninglessness
Great narrative grants us both a subjective experience and an objective experience simultaneously. Stories give us something we can’t find in real life. One can’t be simultaneously inside their own head while also hovering high above watching the actions unfold. The juxtaposition between these two views provides the meaning of the experience-a synthesis that exists between the words and between the individual frames of film. Real life, unfortunately, has no meaning. Until we create some objective context from which to appreciate it (religion, nationalism, or any -ism for that matter), everything means nothing.
Stories offer more.
A writer makes his or her story fuller by adding this all-important layer of the objective view. Fear not heart-driven writer, for undertaking this approach does not take away from the very important relationship story. Stories require both character AND plot. Audiences need that greater context that includes the two principal characters AND the rest of the cast in order to make sense of what it is they feel. Writers want their characters and the relationship between them to mean something; providing an objective view and a greater understanding of when things happen and how they resolve grants an Audience an answer as to why they should experience the story.
June 2015
Some cry contrivance. Others lament convention. And even more bemoan the influence of the ideologue. Writers will do anything, it seems, to avoid understanding what it is they are really doing.
As my story consultancy grows, I begin to witness patterns in behavior. Writers act like other writers. They safeguard themselves from the pain of unraveling what they know about story by hiding behind Aristotle, claims of artistic integrity, or the stifling weight of an outline. Their most consistent mistake rests in the assumption that the main plot of a story (or "A" story line) is simply the framework that all the really important stuff hangs from; that character and relationships reign supreme.
It’s all important stuff.
True, some writers emphasize character over the machinations of the story world at large, but in the end both still need to be present in order for the Audience to make sense of what has happened.
The Interlocking of Character and Plot
Character cannot claim prominence over plot as both exist simultaneously within a piece of narrative, regardless of Author’s intent. Character represents a subjective context on the matters at hand, while plot portrays an objective context. One can’t simply cast the other unimportant because they find it unnecessary any more than they can disavow general relativity because stars are pretty. A subjective context presupposes an objective one.
The Dramatica theory of story exposes the difference between the objective view and subjective with its concept of the four throughlines. The Main Character Throughline and the Relationship Story Throughline manage the subjective view of the narrative while the Overall Story Throughline and the Influence Character Throughline handle the objective. Writers who write from the heart often leave out these last two. They may pay lip service to an Overall Story Throughline by casting the Main Character into the role of Protagonist and claiming the events "his" story, but by doing so fail to properly explore this throughline by centering on one character’s point-of-view.1
That’s not objective.
Objective sees Goals and Consequences. It sees Protagonist and Antagonists and Limits and Plot Points.2 Requirements, Forewarnings, Costs and Dividends. Success or Failure determine its Outcome and each and every character holds itself at arm-length, described only by its function within this view.
Many writers consider this larger perspective to be "unnecessary" or just the "MacGuffin" or mechanical" or "too limiting" to their work. Writing this perspective offers little in terms of emotional expressionism. The fun part of writing—the reason many take to pen in the first place-lies in jumping into the character’s heads, becoming them, feeling what they’re feeling and working towards communicating the emotions they feel inside. Writers such as these wish to express their fanciful associations to the text.
That’s the fun stuff.
Objective, overall-these are not the words of a writer who wears his heart on his sleeve or one who wears his heart on the page. But they are the words of a writer who enjoys mastery over his or her own text.
An Objective Look at Things
Conflict arises as a result of inequity. Everything before the story = equity. Everything after the story starts = inequity. The first "event" upsets the equity of things and compels one or another to bring about resolution.3 If that person is successful then the story has resolution and equity returns. If that person fails, then the story ends with inequity.
That person is the Protagonist of the story.
The concept of the Protagonist exists as a shorthand term to describe the character pushing for this resolution. The Antagonist operates as a shorthand term for character(s) preventing this resolution. One works for the Goal and successful resolution. One works against the Goal and would prefer the Consequences instead. Stories without these two forces lack narrative drive.
The Slice of Life Cop-Out
Stories that fail to provide these two alternative views cannot claim to be stories. Whether a slice-of-life tone poem (The Tree of Life) or a simple tale designed to satiate the senses (any Transformers movie), narrative that offers one offers offers only a part. From the perspective of an artist living present within the spirit with which gives him or her rise, this approach fulfills. Understand, though, that Audiences desire more and may not be as forgiving or appreciative of only one-half of the story. They expect and deserve a complete story.
Every audience member brings with them a mind to interpret and interpolate the narrative in question. Every mind operates under the same biological and biochemical process. Though our individual capabilities might fluctuate, our mechanism of problem-solving functions the same. Conflict resolution requires context and an appreciation of the difference between subjective and objective. If a story only provides one side of the story, the mind rebels, walks out muttering something about "story holes" or "false characters" or simply "a bad story." Audiences expect some greater context to appreciate the relationships between the characters.
The Great Models of Narrative
All great narratives work this way. The external conflict generated by the inequity of the story reflects itself in the juxtaposition between the smaller inter-personal relationship between two characters and the larger objectified relationships between all the characters.
In Pride and Prejudice you have Elizabeth and Darcy and their romantic relationship set against the social challenges of 19th century England’s upper class values tow marriage and choice. One can see the problems of the Wickhams, the Collins, the Bingleys, and, of course, the Bennets more than simply backdrop for romance. Their actions compliment and inform the conflict between the choices and actions taken by the two beginning a new love. Where would Elizabeth’s struggle with first impressions and temptation be were it not for her youngest sister giving in to the same?
Comparable conflicts lie within Romeo & Juliet. The interpersonal relationship between the two takes center stage, but Shakespeare also manages to weave in the war between the Capulets and the Montagues. Misplaced expectations and a rush to resolve intolerable circumstances describe the personal as well as the extra-personal. Friar Lawrence, Tybalt, Lord Capulet and Mercutio need be present for the relationship between the star-crossed lovers to carry with it some greater meaning.
And then finally we have the greatest novel of the 20th century-To Kill a Mockingbird. Here one can see the prejudice and racism that comes with the Southern murder trial of a black man reflected in the interpersonal prejudice between a young girl and the boogeyman across the street. The genius of that novel lies in the positioning of these two views. One sees Atticus the Protagonist trying to resolve the inequity perpetuated by Antagonist Bob Ewell and others: the false accusation of rape against Tom Robinson. But one also gets to experience racism and prejudice from the inside by taking the journey with Scout and her shedding of preconceptions in regards to Boo Radley.
Audiences need both the subjective and the objective to emotionally understand and ultimately make sense of the conflict presented to them.
The objective view of a story sounds mechanical and boring and formulaic and prescriptive. It is. And it is so because it is, in fact, OBJECTIVE. This view is mechanical and boring and prescriptive.4 The writer must assume an objective view of conflict resolution and ask Who are the players? What are they motivated by? How does it all play out in the end?
Key Questions to Ask When Writing this Perspective
- When does the story actually start? When does inequity upset the balance of things?
- What sort of goal would resolve this inequity and bring everything back into balance?
- Who works towards this resolution? Who works against it?
- How does the conflict resolve itself?
Those who don’t only have themselves to blame for a story that lacks direction or fails to capture and engage the minds of their Audience.
The Search for Meaning in the Meaninglessness
Great narrative grants us both a subjective experience and an objective experience simultaneously. Stories give us something we can’t find in real life. One can’t be simultaneously inside their own head while also hovering high above watching the actions unfold. The juxtaposition between these two views provides the meaning of the experience-a synthesis that exists between the words and between the individual frames of film. Real life, unfortunately, has no meaning. Until we create some objective context from which to appreciate it (religion, nationalism, or any -ism for that matter), everything means nothing.
Stories offer more.
A writer makes his or her story fuller by adding this all-important layer of the objective view. Fear not heart-driven writer, for undertaking this approach does not take away from the very important relationship story. Stories require both character AND plot. Audiences need that greater context that includes the two principal characters AND the rest of the cast in order to make sense of what it is they feel. Writers want their characters and the relationship between them to mean something; providing an objective view and a greater understanding of when things happen and how they resolve grants an Audience an answer as to why they should experience the story.
- The Mini-Movie Method takes this approach. By collapsing character and plot into one context, the central character must undergo a series of "plans" regardless of the true problem at hand. «
- Dramatica refers to Plot Points as Story Drivers as they claim responsibility for driving the plot from one Act to the next. «
- This first "event" need not be an action. It could be a series of actions OR it could be a decision or series of deliberations. The Inciting Incident of a story is not something that simply happens to the characters. «
- Well, it doesn’t have to be boring. But from a writer’s perspective, actually writing it can be. «
The Fallacy of the Two Hander
May 2015
When it comes to the reception of a story, the receiver, or Audience member, can often mistake the elements of story for something else. In the same way one finds difficulty estimating the ingredients of their favorite dish when they only have the meal, looking at story from the outside leads to misinterpretations of the meaning, or meat, of the story. The problem deepens when accompanied by confidence.
As misleading as the MacGuffin, the concept of the “two-hander” spawns many errors in the construction of a story. Led to believe that these are two “main” characters rather than characters who share a unique relationship, Authors create narratives that breakdown under the weight of their own schizophrenia. In the same way that mixing and swapping the terms Protagonist and Main Character results in a confusion between personal goals and objective goals, the term “two-hander” leaves the impression that the story might contain two stories.
It doesn't.
In a Scriptnotes podcast last year entitled Making Things Better by Making Things Worse, professional screenwriters John August and Craig Mazin dished out something they usually rally against–namely, rules and education:
A two-hander is a story with two important characters, where basically both characters are roughly equally important in the progress of the story . . . generally each of the characters have something that he or she wants. And sometimes they have a shared goal, but they each have their own individual goals.
So each of these characters has something they want? Insightful. More illuminating would be the understanding that what these characters want are connected in a very deep and meaningful way, far beyond simple wants and needs. Comprehending this connection allows writers to develop strong and powerful stories.
Confidently Vague John August's screenwriting.io site gives an even simpler definition of this concept:
A two-hander is a movie where there are two main characters of roughly equal importance to the story, and whose arcs are given roughly equal screen-time.
Sweet and simple. Elsewhere he elaborates:
Romantic comedies and buddy cop movies are often two-handers, but almost all genres have their examples. The Sixth Sense is a thriller two-hander, for instance.
So The Sixth Sense, 48 Hours, and presumably The Shawshank Reemption all function as two-handers. The list could go on and on and on.
Only it doesn't explain what is really going on.
The films listed above do not feature two “main” characters with the their own “arcs” who roughly share “equal screen-time.” Well, the last might be accurate, but how is that a measurement of the meaning of a story?
Structure is the machine that communicates the Author's meaning, a framework for what the story is about, rather than what happens. In the Dramatica theory of story this structure is called the storyform. Determining the ingredients or elements of this structure makes it easier for Authors to construct a machine that works.
The Real Difference Between the Two Consider the Dreamworks animated film Over the Hedge. Under the definition above, this tale of animals vs. suburbia claims the name two-hander. Both Verne the turtle (Gary Shandling) and RJ the raccoon (Bruce Willis) vie for “equal screen-time”, both come off similarly important.
Unfortunately both find their resolves changed by the end of the film.
For a story to make sense and to convincingly make a case for its message, one of these “main” characters will steadfastly hold on to their resolve while the other will find their resolve changed. In Dramatica, this observable reality of story falls under the concept of the Main Character Resolve: Changed or Steadfast?1 The Resolve of the Influence Character (what two-handlers call the other “main” character) will share an inverse relationship with the Main Character's Resolve. One is changed, one is steadfast.
If you have one character arguing position A and he or she comes into conflict with another character arguing position B, you can't then write both characters changing their positions. Doing so undermines everything that came before, tossing out any thematic arguments made along the way. If you argue for neither A nor B, but rather some form of you are in essence undermining the foundation of story you built.2
Show character A adopting character B's approach or character B assuming character A's position and then inform the Audience of the results. That is how an Author uses story to make an argument. That is how the machine of story works.
Screenwriter Jim Barker explains it well In his article Demystifying the Two-Hander:
the story's theme -- what the author has to say about about the value of hope (and not just “hope” itself) -- is explored by means of an argument. In other words, story is a form of persuasion, and the best means of being persuasive is to explore multiple sides of the argument. Having two characters with their own perspectives is part of the means in which the theme and argument is explored, one character ultimately forcing the other to see their differing point of view and forcing them to either remain steadfast in their approach or change.
Similar Troubles Referencing August's definition of a two-hander, the relationship between the two “main” characters runs deeper than simply one based on relative “importance.” The reason these two characters even find themselves faced off against each other is because they share a bond of conflict. They see this conflict from two different points-of-view, but there is enough shared material between them that they find it almost impossible not to butt heads.
This is where that clichéd line “You and I are both alike” comes from. The two principal characters recognize a commonality of conflict, but see it differently. One comes at it externally, the other internally.
The Well Considered Story Giving credence to vague terminology leads to disappointing drafts and broken stories. The process might begin with little complication, but will eventually bog down as the Author finds their structure undermined by superficial notions of story.
The Dramatica theory of story seeks to make conversations like this a thing of the past. For years I have endeavored to communicate the strength of this perspective through carefully considered and thoughtful articles. Unfortunately the culture seems determined to ignore the measured approach, preferring tweet-sized understandings of story like “two-hander” to get them through their day. Rarely does anyone spend more than a minute and a half reading a 2000 word article that took dives deep into the reason why an element of story exists.
The purpose of this site has always been to improve the quality of storytelling to the point where filmmakers don't spend the last few months of a production trying to salvage a badly structured story. I've been there before several times, and it isn't pretty. And it can be avoided. We don't have to blindly trust the process. But if no one is listening, does this site even exist?
Understanding the relationship between the Main and Influence Character is only one of the many ways Authors and filmmakers can improve their craft. Dramatica offers so much more. If there is a better, quicker, perhaps more culturally acceptable way of communicating this knowledge then perhaps the time has come to try something new.
The promise of a fully functioning story endures. Time to tell the world.
May 2015
When it comes to the reception of a story, the receiver, or Audience member, can often mistake the elements of story for something else. In the same way one finds difficulty estimating the ingredients of their favorite dish when they only have the meal, looking at story from the outside leads to misinterpretations of the meaning, or meat, of the story. The problem deepens when accompanied by confidence.
As misleading as the MacGuffin, the concept of the “two-hander” spawns many errors in the construction of a story. Led to believe that these are two “main” characters rather than characters who share a unique relationship, Authors create narratives that breakdown under the weight of their own schizophrenia. In the same way that mixing and swapping the terms Protagonist and Main Character results in a confusion between personal goals and objective goals, the term “two-hander” leaves the impression that the story might contain two stories.
It doesn't.
In a Scriptnotes podcast last year entitled Making Things Better by Making Things Worse, professional screenwriters John August and Craig Mazin dished out something they usually rally against–namely, rules and education:
A two-hander is a story with two important characters, where basically both characters are roughly equally important in the progress of the story . . . generally each of the characters have something that he or she wants. And sometimes they have a shared goal, but they each have their own individual goals.
So each of these characters has something they want? Insightful. More illuminating would be the understanding that what these characters want are connected in a very deep and meaningful way, far beyond simple wants and needs. Comprehending this connection allows writers to develop strong and powerful stories.
Confidently Vague John August's screenwriting.io site gives an even simpler definition of this concept:
A two-hander is a movie where there are two main characters of roughly equal importance to the story, and whose arcs are given roughly equal screen-time.
Sweet and simple. Elsewhere he elaborates:
Romantic comedies and buddy cop movies are often two-handers, but almost all genres have their examples. The Sixth Sense is a thriller two-hander, for instance.
So The Sixth Sense, 48 Hours, and presumably The Shawshank Reemption all function as two-handers. The list could go on and on and on.
Only it doesn't explain what is really going on.
The films listed above do not feature two “main” characters with the their own “arcs” who roughly share “equal screen-time.” Well, the last might be accurate, but how is that a measurement of the meaning of a story?
Structure is the machine that communicates the Author's meaning, a framework for what the story is about, rather than what happens. In the Dramatica theory of story this structure is called the storyform. Determining the ingredients or elements of this structure makes it easier for Authors to construct a machine that works.
The Real Difference Between the Two Consider the Dreamworks animated film Over the Hedge. Under the definition above, this tale of animals vs. suburbia claims the name two-hander. Both Verne the turtle (Gary Shandling) and RJ the raccoon (Bruce Willis) vie for “equal screen-time”, both come off similarly important.
Unfortunately both find their resolves changed by the end of the film.
For a story to make sense and to convincingly make a case for its message, one of these “main” characters will steadfastly hold on to their resolve while the other will find their resolve changed. In Dramatica, this observable reality of story falls under the concept of the Main Character Resolve: Changed or Steadfast?1 The Resolve of the Influence Character (what two-handlers call the other “main” character) will share an inverse relationship with the Main Character's Resolve. One is changed, one is steadfast.
If you have one character arguing position A and he or she comes into conflict with another character arguing position B, you can't then write both characters changing their positions. Doing so undermines everything that came before, tossing out any thematic arguments made along the way. If you argue for neither A nor B, but rather some form of you are in essence undermining the foundation of story you built.2
Show character A adopting character B's approach or character B assuming character A's position and then inform the Audience of the results. That is how an Author uses story to make an argument. That is how the machine of story works.
Screenwriter Jim Barker explains it well In his article Demystifying the Two-Hander:
the story's theme -- what the author has to say about about the value of hope (and not just “hope” itself) -- is explored by means of an argument. In other words, story is a form of persuasion, and the best means of being persuasive is to explore multiple sides of the argument. Having two characters with their own perspectives is part of the means in which the theme and argument is explored, one character ultimately forcing the other to see their differing point of view and forcing them to either remain steadfast in their approach or change.
Similar Troubles Referencing August's definition of a two-hander, the relationship between the two “main” characters runs deeper than simply one based on relative “importance.” The reason these two characters even find themselves faced off against each other is because they share a bond of conflict. They see this conflict from two different points-of-view, but there is enough shared material between them that they find it almost impossible not to butt heads.
This is where that clichéd line “You and I are both alike” comes from. The two principal characters recognize a commonality of conflict, but see it differently. One comes at it externally, the other internally.
The Well Considered Story Giving credence to vague terminology leads to disappointing drafts and broken stories. The process might begin with little complication, but will eventually bog down as the Author finds their structure undermined by superficial notions of story.
The Dramatica theory of story seeks to make conversations like this a thing of the past. For years I have endeavored to communicate the strength of this perspective through carefully considered and thoughtful articles. Unfortunately the culture seems determined to ignore the measured approach, preferring tweet-sized understandings of story like “two-hander” to get them through their day. Rarely does anyone spend more than a minute and a half reading a 2000 word article that took dives deep into the reason why an element of story exists.
The purpose of this site has always been to improve the quality of storytelling to the point where filmmakers don't spend the last few months of a production trying to salvage a badly structured story. I've been there before several times, and it isn't pretty. And it can be avoided. We don't have to blindly trust the process. But if no one is listening, does this site even exist?
Understanding the relationship between the Main and Influence Character is only one of the many ways Authors and filmmakers can improve their craft. Dramatica offers so much more. If there is a better, quicker, perhaps more culturally acceptable way of communicating this knowledge then perhaps the time has come to try something new.
The promise of a fully functioning story endures. Time to tell the world.
This article originally appeared on Jim's Narrative First website. Hundreds of insightful articles, like this one, can be found in the Archives. Jim will be leading a 2-day Advanced Dramatica Writers Workshop this May 16-17. Put story theory to work! Learn more.
The Secret Behind Great Character Relationships
April 2015
What we know simply marks the beginning. While comprehensive and enlightening, our understanding of story today will seem simple and elementary ten twenty years from now. Our responsibility as writers lies in excavating the truth beneath our superficial grasp on reality and applying that to the characters we bring to life.
The Relationship Throughline of a story consists of two unique perspectives. Typically we describe these two points of view, held by the Main Character and Influence Character, as coming into conflict over the best way to solve the story's central problem. They argue over the appropriate way until finally one gives over to the other.
The reality of this coupling speaks of so much more.
Some relationships grow. Others dissolve. The presence of two perspectives naturally encourages comparisons of unity or sameness, while at the same time fostering division and differences.
The Dramatica theory of story circa 2014 touches lightly on this fascinating aspect of narrative. Assuming the bias towards Overall Story Throughline and Main Character Throughline, the model tends to sketch rather than enscribe the various forces at work within this more Subjective view.* When delving into this area of a story, one senses the need for more to work with, more to explain and illuminate the intricacies of intimate engagement.
Same or Different
Bearing witness to the oft-used line of "You and I are Both Alike", one sees how the notion of "Two Sides of the Same Coin" work within narrative. One side feels they are the same, the other sees only difference. This happens because in one context the two competing perspectives exhibit similar properties, in another they differ.
Aligned diagonally across from each other when assigned their prospective domains, these Throughlines both exist as either states or processes. If Situation and Fixed Attitude, then they share a static (state) commonality of conflict. "You and I are both alike, we're both stuck," would describe the perspective that sees these similarities. If Activity and Way of Thinking then they share a procedural (process) commonality of conflict. "You and I are both alike, we just can't stop ourselves, can we?"
The other context sees these Domains in terms of external or internal. Situation and Activity tell of external conflict. Fixed Attitude and Way of Thinking describe internal struggles. If set in Situation and Fixed Attitude one character might say "we are both alike, we're stuck" whereas the other would retort, "We're nothing alike. I know where I stand (external), you don't even know yourself (internal)".
When caught up within the turmoil of a relationship, one character will see the forces driving them towards a shared sameness while the other will only see apparent differences. Neither claims accuracy: they're both right, and they're both wrong. The direction of their relationship determines how close to unity they ultimately will reach.
Growing or Dissolving
At the heart of every Relationship sits a motivating source of inequity. Dramatica refers to this disparity as the Relationship Story Problem. Whether a lack of faith or trust, an inability to accept or a longing for something more, this Problem motivates the Relationship forward.
Problems naturally call for Solutions. You can't have one side of the equation without the other, you can't have inequity without equity. The "problem" with the term Solution lies in the assumption that this resolution brings the two characters together. Naturally one would assume that if there was a problem, then the solution must heal their differences.
But what about relationships on the decline?
Relationships rely on tidal forces. Ebbs and flows. Directions and tides. When situated on the path for dissolution, a relationship turns to the Solution to end it all, once and for good. Whether together or not, the resolution of the inequity in their lives ends the conflict between them. Contrast this with the Solution for a Relationship on the rise. Here resolution brings two hearts together, ending conflict by bringing two together.
Neither approach claims superiority over the other. The responsibility for determining the direction of the Relationship and the proper application of the Solution lies within the writer. They must appreciate this reality of narrative for themselves and for their story.
In Ernest Lehman's Sweet Smell of Success (1957) Main Character Sidney Falco (Tony Curtis) joins fellow Hunsecker pawn Susan Hunsecker (Susan Harrison) in a somber display of a relationship in decay. Tasked with ruining Susan's relationship with Steve Dallas (Martin Milner), Sidney uses their friendship to slither in close enough to gather the information he needs. Whether great friends or simple acquantences prior to the story's start, the two slowly move apart. The banter between them, centering around inferences of the other's weakness in the presence of J.J. (Induction), drives their relationship towards its inevitable end. Once Susan concludes her brother's involvement and Sidney's part in it (Deduction), the friendship dies. Having learned how to play the game herself, Susan moves past Sidney and moves on.(2)
Contrast this with the growing relationship between Christian (Ewan McGregor) and Satine (Nicole Kidman) in Baz Luhrman's Moulin Rouge!. Driven to torment by Satine's apparent ease with which she gives into lustful desires (Temptation), Christian begs, argues, and ultimately insults his love on the public stage for all to see. Only by mutually refusing to take the easy way out and forgoing their own egos (Conscience) do they finally find a place where they can come together. While death tempers this synthesis, resolution completes the Relationship's positive development.
A Greater Truth to our Work
The Relationship Throughline whispers something more than simply the presence of two alternate perspectives. The growth and development of this kinship in conflict calls for an appraisal of its direction and a nod to their similarities and differences. The Dramatica theory of story represents a watershed moment in the history of our understanding of narrative. However what we know now and appreciate as reality only scratches the surface of effective and lasting storytelling. Delving into the forces at work opens our minds and encourages greater breadth to our own writing.
April 2015
What we know simply marks the beginning. While comprehensive and enlightening, our understanding of story today will seem simple and elementary ten twenty years from now. Our responsibility as writers lies in excavating the truth beneath our superficial grasp on reality and applying that to the characters we bring to life.
The Relationship Throughline of a story consists of two unique perspectives. Typically we describe these two points of view, held by the Main Character and Influence Character, as coming into conflict over the best way to solve the story's central problem. They argue over the appropriate way until finally one gives over to the other.
The reality of this coupling speaks of so much more.
Some relationships grow. Others dissolve. The presence of two perspectives naturally encourages comparisons of unity or sameness, while at the same time fostering division and differences.
The Dramatica theory of story circa 2014 touches lightly on this fascinating aspect of narrative. Assuming the bias towards Overall Story Throughline and Main Character Throughline, the model tends to sketch rather than enscribe the various forces at work within this more Subjective view.* When delving into this area of a story, one senses the need for more to work with, more to explain and illuminate the intricacies of intimate engagement.
Same or Different
Bearing witness to the oft-used line of "You and I are Both Alike", one sees how the notion of "Two Sides of the Same Coin" work within narrative. One side feels they are the same, the other sees only difference. This happens because in one context the two competing perspectives exhibit similar properties, in another they differ.
Aligned diagonally across from each other when assigned their prospective domains, these Throughlines both exist as either states or processes. If Situation and Fixed Attitude, then they share a static (state) commonality of conflict. "You and I are both alike, we're both stuck," would describe the perspective that sees these similarities. If Activity and Way of Thinking then they share a procedural (process) commonality of conflict. "You and I are both alike, we just can't stop ourselves, can we?"
The other context sees these Domains in terms of external or internal. Situation and Activity tell of external conflict. Fixed Attitude and Way of Thinking describe internal struggles. If set in Situation and Fixed Attitude one character might say "we are both alike, we're stuck" whereas the other would retort, "We're nothing alike. I know where I stand (external), you don't even know yourself (internal)".
When caught up within the turmoil of a relationship, one character will see the forces driving them towards a shared sameness while the other will only see apparent differences. Neither claims accuracy: they're both right, and they're both wrong. The direction of their relationship determines how close to unity they ultimately will reach.
Growing or Dissolving
At the heart of every Relationship sits a motivating source of inequity. Dramatica refers to this disparity as the Relationship Story Problem. Whether a lack of faith or trust, an inability to accept or a longing for something more, this Problem motivates the Relationship forward.
Problems naturally call for Solutions. You can't have one side of the equation without the other, you can't have inequity without equity. The "problem" with the term Solution lies in the assumption that this resolution brings the two characters together. Naturally one would assume that if there was a problem, then the solution must heal their differences.
But what about relationships on the decline?
Relationships rely on tidal forces. Ebbs and flows. Directions and tides. When situated on the path for dissolution, a relationship turns to the Solution to end it all, once and for good. Whether together or not, the resolution of the inequity in their lives ends the conflict between them. Contrast this with the Solution for a Relationship on the rise. Here resolution brings two hearts together, ending conflict by bringing two together.
Neither approach claims superiority over the other. The responsibility for determining the direction of the Relationship and the proper application of the Solution lies within the writer. They must appreciate this reality of narrative for themselves and for their story.
In Ernest Lehman's Sweet Smell of Success (1957) Main Character Sidney Falco (Tony Curtis) joins fellow Hunsecker pawn Susan Hunsecker (Susan Harrison) in a somber display of a relationship in decay. Tasked with ruining Susan's relationship with Steve Dallas (Martin Milner), Sidney uses their friendship to slither in close enough to gather the information he needs. Whether great friends or simple acquantences prior to the story's start, the two slowly move apart. The banter between them, centering around inferences of the other's weakness in the presence of J.J. (Induction), drives their relationship towards its inevitable end. Once Susan concludes her brother's involvement and Sidney's part in it (Deduction), the friendship dies. Having learned how to play the game herself, Susan moves past Sidney and moves on.(2)
Contrast this with the growing relationship between Christian (Ewan McGregor) and Satine (Nicole Kidman) in Baz Luhrman's Moulin Rouge!. Driven to torment by Satine's apparent ease with which she gives into lustful desires (Temptation), Christian begs, argues, and ultimately insults his love on the public stage for all to see. Only by mutually refusing to take the easy way out and forgoing their own egos (Conscience) do they finally find a place where they can come together. While death tempers this synthesis, resolution completes the Relationship's positive development.
A Greater Truth to our Work
The Relationship Throughline whispers something more than simply the presence of two alternate perspectives. The growth and development of this kinship in conflict calls for an appraisal of its direction and a nod to their similarities and differences. The Dramatica theory of story represents a watershed moment in the history of our understanding of narrative. However what we know now and appreciate as reality only scratches the surface of effective and lasting storytelling. Delving into the forces at work opens our minds and encourages greater breadth to our own writing.
- Point of fact, earlier iterations of Dramatica referred to the Relationship Throughline as the Subjective Story Throughline. The switch was made to encourage engagement from Western writers who prefer the individual and logic over the couple and holism. ↩
- For a complete analysis of this film see the Dramatica Users Group analysis of Sweet Smell of Success ↩
This article originally appeared on Jim's Narrative First website. Hundreds of insightful articles, like this one, can be found in the Archives. Jim will be leading a 2-day Advanced Dramatica Writers Workshop this May 16-17. Put story theory to work! Learn more.
Story Consultants: The Snake-Oil Salesmen of Screenwriting?
March 2015
Treacherous waters await those who set out upon the seas of storytelling. While the tossing and turning of indiscriminate waves threaten stability, it is the the company kept within that calls for caution.
The act of writing requires only one. Whether with pencil in hand or keys beneath, writers write with the understanding that in the end, they only have themselves to rely on.
Yet, the process can overwhelm one to such a degree that they consider looking to others for help. Some turn to professional screenwriters kind enough to log their experience and know-how in podcasts and blog posts. Others turn to story consultants and gurus familiar with narrative and its ability to bridge the gap between Author and Audience.
Confusions sets in once one discovers that the former don’t look too kindly upon the latter.
Consultants Who Can’t Do
In a blog post written several years ago, screenwriter Craig Mazin attacks script consultants:
What is NOT a smart move is listening to the people who DON’T do the job. And who are they? Oh, you know who they are. They’re selling books. They’re selling seminars. They’re “script consultants.” And for a small fee, or a medium fee, or a goddamned flat-out ridiculous fee, they’ll coach you right into the big leagues!
This inspired screenwriter John August (and Mazin’s co-host on the Scriptnotes Podcast) to chime in with his own version of Those who can’t do, teach:
I don’t endorse any of them. I haven’t found any I’d recommend to readers.
The two posts generated hundreds of comments (sadly those from August have been lost) both for and against, with the majority siding with August and Mazin. Why pay for someone to help write a better story when they themselves haven’t done it? If these “so-called experts” have all the secrets, why aren’t they sitting on a pile of money and critically-acclaimed screenplays instead of how-to books and blog posts?
Because story can be so much more than simple self-aggrandizement.
August keys in on the ulterior motive for these consultants with his sports analogy:
Many of the best coaches were never star players. Rather, the top coaches have the ability to extract the best efforts from the athletes they train. They recognize weakness and focus attention. It’s conceivable that the same could hold true for screenwriting. There might be individuals with a remarkable sense of both the broad narrative form and the precise on-the-page details.
To put it another way–those who can, do; those who care, teach.
Setting Ego Aside
The truth of the matter is a consultant does what he does because he is more interested in helping others rather than himself. Why spend one’s relatively short time on Earth marking territory and building shrines when one can turn the tide far beyond the boundaries of self-indulgence?
Story-telling, and in particular feature film screenwriting, needs fixing. Epic battles and latex-clad heroes can only last for so long before Audiences will finally give up what little faith they have in movies. How else can one explain the increase in acclaim for episodic television like Game of Thrones, Breaking Bad, or Mad Men if not superior storytelling?
The majority of feature films today lack a strong structural foundation. They tell tales, not stories. Following the muse works great as a step one; steps two and beyond require organizing that creative impulse into something more meaningful.
The Flimflammer’s Approach
In a recent Scriptnotes podcast screenwriter Mazin resumes his attack on consultants by echoing the oft-heard complaint against a structural approach to writing:
This whole “plot point one,” “pinch point,” blah, blah, blah, you’ve been suckered like so many before you into thinking that there is a calculator through which you can run ideas and out comes a screenplay and you just simply calculate your way to success. There is no faster, easier, simpler way to arrive at failure then attempting to calculate the process of screenwriting.
Many who struggle with Dramatica (narrative science theory) decry its apparent attempt to turn writing into a “calculated” endeavor. They see the boxes, they run into dead-ends trying to fit their convoluted story into its comprehensive paradigm, and they easily discount it as yet another in a long line of com-men eager to separate writers from their precious pennies.
They [script consultants] are flimflamming you, buddy. They’re flimflamming you.
Or it could be that the flimflammers have grown tired of incomplete and pointless stories. It could be that they have discovered a better, more comprehensive way of understanding why stories seem to require certain structural precepts (more on this later).
It could be that they simply want to share this information with as many people as they can.
The books that have been written are being written by people who have failed at screenwriting, possibly because they were over calculating, and now they offer you the gift of the very process that failed them. I am not a fan of this nonsense.
Thank God some of them have failed at screenwriting! If they hadn’t, they wouldn’t have taken the time to ask why. They wouldn’t have spent decades looking into the psychology of story and discovered its analogous relation to the mind’s problem-solving process. They wouldn’t have moved us beyond Aristotle’s ridiculous “beginning-middle-end” tripe.
Chris Huntley and Melanie Anne Phillips developed their brand of narrative science (Dramatica) after writing and directing a really bad movie–a movie influenced in part by established screenwriters and university professors. Instead of developing bad habits accumulated from years of capitulating to producers and studio executives who truly have no idea how to construct a proper narrative, these two “flimflammers” set out on their own and discovered something quite unique–an understanding of story we all know instinctively to be true, yet previously have been unable to quantify.
Truth Behind the Con
In the very same podcast in which he calls out consultants for subterfuge, Mazin pitches the importance of a structural approach to story and an understanding of narrative science:
One of them is the protagonist. The idea of the protagonist, traditionally, is that our capacity for drama as humans and such that we prefer — we prefer — that once character is the focus of internal change. One character is going to have an epiphany and a catharsis and a transformation. But, another character with them can be instrumental to that. Another character with them can change, also. Another character can change in such a way that changes the protagonist.
Dramatica refers to these two characters as the Main Character and the Influence Character (the term protagonist–commonly mistaken or substituted for the Main Character–features elsewhere within the theory). Isolating the concept of Resolve between these two characters, one will experience a 180 degree “flip” or change in their point-of-view while the other will grow in his or her resolve by remaining steadfast to their personal paradigm (See the series Character and Change).
The protagonist sometimes isn’t the biggest one, or the most heroic one, but they’re just the one that changes. So, think about it that way. And just remember, we will be trying to — we will be connecting with somebody’s change. And if two people are changing we want to know which one is primarily changing. It’s just sort of ingrained in the way we experience story.
Exactly!
Dramatica (and narrative science theory) isn’t an elaborate scheme to swindle amateur writers; it’s an attempt to quantify and qualify this “ingrained experience” that we all instinctively understand to be true. Those engaged in its ongoing-development and education simply wish to pass on what they’ve found.
It’s a very… — You just have to know this stuff when you’re doing it, and you have to figure it out, but you can’t divide your attention. You have to actually — you have to know.
Writers have to know this stuff, yet they can’t seek help from those who know. Why can’t they seat both professional screenwriters and theoreticians/consultants in captain’s cab along with them?
A Synergy for Story
For the very best example of this needed collaboration in action, one need only look to the real world example of animation directors Dean DeBlois and Chris Sanders. The former, a member of Blake Snyder’s Save the Cat! Writers Group excels at structure. The latter, a creative powerhouse, brings the unexpected and touching character moments to the table. Together they create heartfelt stories full of purpose and meaning. Apart, not so much. Lilo and Stitch and How to Train Your Dragon, products of mutual collaboration, showcase stories that satisfy the head as much as they fulfill the heart. The Croods–directed without the assistance of DeBlois’ attention to structure–meanders aimlessly, ending only because animated films last 90 minutes–not because an actual story had been told.
The Croods may be heartfelt and inventive, but without something greater to pull it all together–something more than the sum of its parts–the film falls into insignificance. Years from now the majority will be hard pressed to remember even a little of The Croods. Contrast that with the legions of fans who count Lilo or Dragon one of their very favorite animated films and one can begin to see the importance of having both.
Purpose and heart can and must co-exist. One can glean all the experience and industry know-how from August and Mazin while at the same time benefit from the enlightenment and wisdom of those outside of the system like Phillips and Huntley. Want to know how to conduct yourself in a meeting or how best to receive and respond to those notes you’ll inevitably run into? Listen to the former. Want to understand the connection between your Main Character’s personal issue and the larger thematic issue affecting everyone in the story while at the same? Partake in the latter. Regardless, taking both along for the ride ensures a pleasant and purposeful experience.
Someone to Talk To
A recent article from screenwriter/consultant Erik Bork sums it up nicely:
Certainly it’s true that many writers who succeed never hired “script consultants”. But I would say virtually all of those writers had access to their equivalents at some point, as I did — to augment their ardent self-study.
Access to those who know. The certified consultants featured on Dramatica’s Story Consultant page understand narrative science better than anyone else in the world. They might not have a clue how to conduct themselves within a meeting or how to avoid the dreaded air duct clam, but they do know how to use character, plot, theme and genre to construct a convincing and solid story. They do understand the commonality of the almost 300 films, novels and plays (yes, even Shakespeare understood that ingrained experience!) featured on the site’s Analysis pages. And they understand how to work with writers to give their work gravitas–to make those words count for something more than yet another on the pile of disdained and forgotten films.
Yes, the seas ahead promise turbulent violence. Crews may lose hope or find themselves lost without trusted companions there to help navigate the waters of story. But with the assistance of hardened screenwriters and inquisitive theoreticians, the voyage can continue with confidence. One to set the course. One to keep the boat steady.
Safe harbor awaits those brave enough to set sail.
This article originally appeared on Jim's Narrative First website. Hundreds of insightful articles, like this one, can be found in the Archives.
March 2015
Treacherous waters await those who set out upon the seas of storytelling. While the tossing and turning of indiscriminate waves threaten stability, it is the the company kept within that calls for caution.
The act of writing requires only one. Whether with pencil in hand or keys beneath, writers write with the understanding that in the end, they only have themselves to rely on.
Yet, the process can overwhelm one to such a degree that they consider looking to others for help. Some turn to professional screenwriters kind enough to log their experience and know-how in podcasts and blog posts. Others turn to story consultants and gurus familiar with narrative and its ability to bridge the gap between Author and Audience.
Confusions sets in once one discovers that the former don’t look too kindly upon the latter.
Consultants Who Can’t Do
In a blog post written several years ago, screenwriter Craig Mazin attacks script consultants:
What is NOT a smart move is listening to the people who DON’T do the job. And who are they? Oh, you know who they are. They’re selling books. They’re selling seminars. They’re “script consultants.” And for a small fee, or a medium fee, or a goddamned flat-out ridiculous fee, they’ll coach you right into the big leagues!
This inspired screenwriter John August (and Mazin’s co-host on the Scriptnotes Podcast) to chime in with his own version of Those who can’t do, teach:
I don’t endorse any of them. I haven’t found any I’d recommend to readers.
The two posts generated hundreds of comments (sadly those from August have been lost) both for and against, with the majority siding with August and Mazin. Why pay for someone to help write a better story when they themselves haven’t done it? If these “so-called experts” have all the secrets, why aren’t they sitting on a pile of money and critically-acclaimed screenplays instead of how-to books and blog posts?
Because story can be so much more than simple self-aggrandizement.
August keys in on the ulterior motive for these consultants with his sports analogy:
Many of the best coaches were never star players. Rather, the top coaches have the ability to extract the best efforts from the athletes they train. They recognize weakness and focus attention. It’s conceivable that the same could hold true for screenwriting. There might be individuals with a remarkable sense of both the broad narrative form and the precise on-the-page details.
To put it another way–those who can, do; those who care, teach.
Setting Ego Aside
The truth of the matter is a consultant does what he does because he is more interested in helping others rather than himself. Why spend one’s relatively short time on Earth marking territory and building shrines when one can turn the tide far beyond the boundaries of self-indulgence?
Story-telling, and in particular feature film screenwriting, needs fixing. Epic battles and latex-clad heroes can only last for so long before Audiences will finally give up what little faith they have in movies. How else can one explain the increase in acclaim for episodic television like Game of Thrones, Breaking Bad, or Mad Men if not superior storytelling?
The majority of feature films today lack a strong structural foundation. They tell tales, not stories. Following the muse works great as a step one; steps two and beyond require organizing that creative impulse into something more meaningful.
The Flimflammer’s Approach
In a recent Scriptnotes podcast screenwriter Mazin resumes his attack on consultants by echoing the oft-heard complaint against a structural approach to writing:
This whole “plot point one,” “pinch point,” blah, blah, blah, you’ve been suckered like so many before you into thinking that there is a calculator through which you can run ideas and out comes a screenplay and you just simply calculate your way to success. There is no faster, easier, simpler way to arrive at failure then attempting to calculate the process of screenwriting.
Many who struggle with Dramatica (narrative science theory) decry its apparent attempt to turn writing into a “calculated” endeavor. They see the boxes, they run into dead-ends trying to fit their convoluted story into its comprehensive paradigm, and they easily discount it as yet another in a long line of com-men eager to separate writers from their precious pennies.
They [script consultants] are flimflamming you, buddy. They’re flimflamming you.
Or it could be that the flimflammers have grown tired of incomplete and pointless stories. It could be that they have discovered a better, more comprehensive way of understanding why stories seem to require certain structural precepts (more on this later).
It could be that they simply want to share this information with as many people as they can.
The books that have been written are being written by people who have failed at screenwriting, possibly because they were over calculating, and now they offer you the gift of the very process that failed them. I am not a fan of this nonsense.
Thank God some of them have failed at screenwriting! If they hadn’t, they wouldn’t have taken the time to ask why. They wouldn’t have spent decades looking into the psychology of story and discovered its analogous relation to the mind’s problem-solving process. They wouldn’t have moved us beyond Aristotle’s ridiculous “beginning-middle-end” tripe.
Chris Huntley and Melanie Anne Phillips developed their brand of narrative science (Dramatica) after writing and directing a really bad movie–a movie influenced in part by established screenwriters and university professors. Instead of developing bad habits accumulated from years of capitulating to producers and studio executives who truly have no idea how to construct a proper narrative, these two “flimflammers” set out on their own and discovered something quite unique–an understanding of story we all know instinctively to be true, yet previously have been unable to quantify.
Truth Behind the Con
In the very same podcast in which he calls out consultants for subterfuge, Mazin pitches the importance of a structural approach to story and an understanding of narrative science:
One of them is the protagonist. The idea of the protagonist, traditionally, is that our capacity for drama as humans and such that we prefer — we prefer — that once character is the focus of internal change. One character is going to have an epiphany and a catharsis and a transformation. But, another character with them can be instrumental to that. Another character with them can change, also. Another character can change in such a way that changes the protagonist.
Dramatica refers to these two characters as the Main Character and the Influence Character (the term protagonist–commonly mistaken or substituted for the Main Character–features elsewhere within the theory). Isolating the concept of Resolve between these two characters, one will experience a 180 degree “flip” or change in their point-of-view while the other will grow in his or her resolve by remaining steadfast to their personal paradigm (See the series Character and Change).
The protagonist sometimes isn’t the biggest one, or the most heroic one, but they’re just the one that changes. So, think about it that way. And just remember, we will be trying to — we will be connecting with somebody’s change. And if two people are changing we want to know which one is primarily changing. It’s just sort of ingrained in the way we experience story.
Exactly!
Dramatica (and narrative science theory) isn’t an elaborate scheme to swindle amateur writers; it’s an attempt to quantify and qualify this “ingrained experience” that we all instinctively understand to be true. Those engaged in its ongoing-development and education simply wish to pass on what they’ve found.
It’s a very… — You just have to know this stuff when you’re doing it, and you have to figure it out, but you can’t divide your attention. You have to actually — you have to know.
Writers have to know this stuff, yet they can’t seek help from those who know. Why can’t they seat both professional screenwriters and theoreticians/consultants in captain’s cab along with them?
A Synergy for Story
For the very best example of this needed collaboration in action, one need only look to the real world example of animation directors Dean DeBlois and Chris Sanders. The former, a member of Blake Snyder’s Save the Cat! Writers Group excels at structure. The latter, a creative powerhouse, brings the unexpected and touching character moments to the table. Together they create heartfelt stories full of purpose and meaning. Apart, not so much. Lilo and Stitch and How to Train Your Dragon, products of mutual collaboration, showcase stories that satisfy the head as much as they fulfill the heart. The Croods–directed without the assistance of DeBlois’ attention to structure–meanders aimlessly, ending only because animated films last 90 minutes–not because an actual story had been told.
The Croods may be heartfelt and inventive, but without something greater to pull it all together–something more than the sum of its parts–the film falls into insignificance. Years from now the majority will be hard pressed to remember even a little of The Croods. Contrast that with the legions of fans who count Lilo or Dragon one of their very favorite animated films and one can begin to see the importance of having both.
Purpose and heart can and must co-exist. One can glean all the experience and industry know-how from August and Mazin while at the same time benefit from the enlightenment and wisdom of those outside of the system like Phillips and Huntley. Want to know how to conduct yourself in a meeting or how best to receive and respond to those notes you’ll inevitably run into? Listen to the former. Want to understand the connection between your Main Character’s personal issue and the larger thematic issue affecting everyone in the story while at the same? Partake in the latter. Regardless, taking both along for the ride ensures a pleasant and purposeful experience.
Someone to Talk To
A recent article from screenwriter/consultant Erik Bork sums it up nicely:
Certainly it’s true that many writers who succeed never hired “script consultants”. But I would say virtually all of those writers had access to their equivalents at some point, as I did — to augment their ardent self-study.
Access to those who know. The certified consultants featured on Dramatica’s Story Consultant page understand narrative science better than anyone else in the world. They might not have a clue how to conduct themselves within a meeting or how to avoid the dreaded air duct clam, but they do know how to use character, plot, theme and genre to construct a convincing and solid story. They do understand the commonality of the almost 300 films, novels and plays (yes, even Shakespeare understood that ingrained experience!) featured on the site’s Analysis pages. And they understand how to work with writers to give their work gravitas–to make those words count for something more than yet another on the pile of disdained and forgotten films.
Yes, the seas ahead promise turbulent violence. Crews may lose hope or find themselves lost without trusted companions there to help navigate the waters of story. But with the assistance of hardened screenwriters and inquisitive theoreticians, the voyage can continue with confidence. One to set the course. One to keep the boat steady.
Safe harbor awaits those brave enough to set sail.
This article originally appeared on Jim's Narrative First website. Hundreds of insightful articles, like this one, can be found in the Archives.
The End of the Three-Act Structure
February 2015
The time has come to obliterate Aristotle’s stranglehold on narrative fiction. With the amount of information and different perspectives available to Audiences today, a simplified beginning-middle-end approach simply doesn’t cut it anymore.
Complete stories consist of four major movements, not three. Sure, it seems simple enough to assume that because a story has a beginning, middle, and end that there must be three movements to define these sections. But is that all there is to an Act? A superficial take on the events within a story based upon their moment in time?
Perhaps there could be something more there, something more closely related to the thematic substance buried deep within the story itself.
2A, 2B or Not 2A, 2B Unlike Hamlet, the answer presents itself clearly.
The standard in modern screenwriting paradigm calls for splitting up the Second Act into two halves, labeling them 2A and 2B. For all intents and purposes, as long as everyone on the production agrees with this naming convention, there isn’t anything about this approach that could prevent the successful conclusion of a film. The question becomes if the final product finishes with a glorious and well-celebrated run or peters out over the first weekend, adding weight to the already great discarded landfill of pointless stories.
How to avoid this unfortunate result?
Don’t assume that both halves are dealing with the same thematic stuff. Don’t assume that this “Special World” somehow carries with it some intrinsic meaning because of its position between the beginning and the end.
Because it doesn’t.
Why the Act? In a recent article on The Myth of the Three-Act Structure film critic Hulk defines the true end of an Act as something that creates propulsion, something that changes narrative value and has the characters moving towards some new reality/situation (loosely translated from the Hulkspeak–you’re welcome).
This is good stuff.
But something more important lies further down. Diving even deeper into what that new reality or situation is, one eventually discovers that this dramatic movement showcases a shift in focus–a different context from which to appreciate the central problem of a story.
Examining All Sides of an Issue One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter. This familiar understanding offers an excellent starting point for any discussion surrounding the thematic makeup of Acts within a story.
A story begins with the creation of an inequity–a problem needing resolution. If one were to simply follow one perspective, one point-of-view on how to solve the issue at hand, one would simply see the terrorist. Great stories, and the Authors who write them, take in all the different ways of looking at a problem. Using the different perspectives offered both objectively in the main plot and subjectively within the Main Character, these Authors offer a greater understanding of the conflict in question.
But it’s not enough to simply include those different points-of-view, they must be laser-focused on what that problem truly is. One perspective will see the problem as an activity. Another will see it as a situation. Another a fixed attitude, like a prejudice or a biased opinion. And yet another will see it as a problem of psychology. Together, these perspectives unite to offer that better understanding, that appreciation of who is the terrorist and who is the freedom fighter.
Four Sides to Every Problem With the individual perspectives defined, the attention shifts towards how each will explore their own take on the problem at hand. Take for instance the perspective of the problem as an activity. There are four separate areas an activity can fall into. Obtaining something, like a map or a new country. Doing something, like swimming the English Channel or writing a dissertation. It can fall under the category of Understanding, like appreciating the motives of a serial killer or why an alien race fights for survival. And finally, an activity find definition in Learning–gathering information or educating the next generation of lion hunters. Regardless of what that problematic activity is, it will always fall into one of those four categories. One cannot think of an activity that does not fall along one of these four lines.
The purpose of an Act is to explore one of these four areas. Once it has been significantly examined, that perspective shifts into the next area and a new Act begins. When speaking of changing “narrative value”, these are concrete occurrences of what that value truly is. Once a new area, or Act, has been thoroughly exhausted (that feeling of “we get it already”), the next one takes over. This is why there is that sensation that the characters cannot go back–they won’t because they’ve already covered that area.
Four areas for each perspective. Four acts per story.
Any more Acts would simply be a rehash of a old contexts. That’s why stories end when they do. All sides, all contexts explored.
How to Train Your Dragon begins with the dragons and Vikings at odds with another, one side stealing and the other side hunting (Doing). It then shifts into an examination of the problems found in training the next generation of dragon killers (Learning). That movement exhausts itself when they discover the presence of an even bigger threat and Hiccup reveals his new relationship (Understanding). His father responds and that final Act revolves around good and bad battling for survival (Obtaining). At that point the story ends because it has to. Nothing more to cover, all perspectives of an activity examined.
Same with The Terminator. Problems begin when a robot from the future arrives and mistakingly shoots the wrong Sarah Connor (Understanding). These misunderstandings persist (trust the police, trust the scary guy in the overcoat?) until Sarah has no other choice but to take Kyle at his word. From there it’s a race to see how quickly Kyle can convince Sarah of her importance and the reality of their situation (Learning). The second half of the film focuses on the chase–beginning with the shootout at the police station and ending with the destruction of the Terminator (Doing and then Obtaining). It almost feels like one Act because Doing and Obtaining are so closely related, but it’s not. There is a meaningful shift from the running away (Doing) to the purposeful effort to destroy (Obtaining). That final movement becomes essential in a story exploring problems of activity. Leave that final Act out and the story would feel incomplete. The reason the story works rests in the fact that the Author explored all sides. Sarah rises to the occasion and defeats the robot menace once and for all.
Why the Need for an Act There may be some who see more Acts within a story–some say five, some say twenty, some forty-two–but most likely what they are seeing is something other than the true function of an Act. When seen within the context of a well-balanced argument, the reason why Acts exist becomes clear. Regardless of how an Author decides to divvy up their work, psychologically speaking the story can only function as the result of four movements.
Four acts. Four ways to explore a single point-of-view.
Advanced Story Theory for This Article Dramatica presents Authors with the tools necessary to explore all sides of an argument. By infusing their work with the meaningful utilization of distinct throughlines, an Author can create thematic balance, both objectively and subjectively. Modern audiences know better than simply black or white. They deserve stories that respect that wisdom.
February 2015
The time has come to obliterate Aristotle’s stranglehold on narrative fiction. With the amount of information and different perspectives available to Audiences today, a simplified beginning-middle-end approach simply doesn’t cut it anymore.
Complete stories consist of four major movements, not three. Sure, it seems simple enough to assume that because a story has a beginning, middle, and end that there must be three movements to define these sections. But is that all there is to an Act? A superficial take on the events within a story based upon their moment in time?
Perhaps there could be something more there, something more closely related to the thematic substance buried deep within the story itself.
2A, 2B or Not 2A, 2B Unlike Hamlet, the answer presents itself clearly.
The standard in modern screenwriting paradigm calls for splitting up the Second Act into two halves, labeling them 2A and 2B. For all intents and purposes, as long as everyone on the production agrees with this naming convention, there isn’t anything about this approach that could prevent the successful conclusion of a film. The question becomes if the final product finishes with a glorious and well-celebrated run or peters out over the first weekend, adding weight to the already great discarded landfill of pointless stories.
How to avoid this unfortunate result?
Don’t assume that both halves are dealing with the same thematic stuff. Don’t assume that this “Special World” somehow carries with it some intrinsic meaning because of its position between the beginning and the end.
Because it doesn’t.
Why the Act? In a recent article on The Myth of the Three-Act Structure film critic Hulk defines the true end of an Act as something that creates propulsion, something that changes narrative value and has the characters moving towards some new reality/situation (loosely translated from the Hulkspeak–you’re welcome).
This is good stuff.
But something more important lies further down. Diving even deeper into what that new reality or situation is, one eventually discovers that this dramatic movement showcases a shift in focus–a different context from which to appreciate the central problem of a story.
Examining All Sides of an Issue One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter. This familiar understanding offers an excellent starting point for any discussion surrounding the thematic makeup of Acts within a story.
A story begins with the creation of an inequity–a problem needing resolution. If one were to simply follow one perspective, one point-of-view on how to solve the issue at hand, one would simply see the terrorist. Great stories, and the Authors who write them, take in all the different ways of looking at a problem. Using the different perspectives offered both objectively in the main plot and subjectively within the Main Character, these Authors offer a greater understanding of the conflict in question.
But it’s not enough to simply include those different points-of-view, they must be laser-focused on what that problem truly is. One perspective will see the problem as an activity. Another will see it as a situation. Another a fixed attitude, like a prejudice or a biased opinion. And yet another will see it as a problem of psychology. Together, these perspectives unite to offer that better understanding, that appreciation of who is the terrorist and who is the freedom fighter.
Four Sides to Every Problem With the individual perspectives defined, the attention shifts towards how each will explore their own take on the problem at hand. Take for instance the perspective of the problem as an activity. There are four separate areas an activity can fall into. Obtaining something, like a map or a new country. Doing something, like swimming the English Channel or writing a dissertation. It can fall under the category of Understanding, like appreciating the motives of a serial killer or why an alien race fights for survival. And finally, an activity find definition in Learning–gathering information or educating the next generation of lion hunters. Regardless of what that problematic activity is, it will always fall into one of those four categories. One cannot think of an activity that does not fall along one of these four lines.
The purpose of an Act is to explore one of these four areas. Once it has been significantly examined, that perspective shifts into the next area and a new Act begins. When speaking of changing “narrative value”, these are concrete occurrences of what that value truly is. Once a new area, or Act, has been thoroughly exhausted (that feeling of “we get it already”), the next one takes over. This is why there is that sensation that the characters cannot go back–they won’t because they’ve already covered that area.
Four areas for each perspective. Four acts per story.
Any more Acts would simply be a rehash of a old contexts. That’s why stories end when they do. All sides, all contexts explored.
How to Train Your Dragon begins with the dragons and Vikings at odds with another, one side stealing and the other side hunting (Doing). It then shifts into an examination of the problems found in training the next generation of dragon killers (Learning). That movement exhausts itself when they discover the presence of an even bigger threat and Hiccup reveals his new relationship (Understanding). His father responds and that final Act revolves around good and bad battling for survival (Obtaining). At that point the story ends because it has to. Nothing more to cover, all perspectives of an activity examined.
Same with The Terminator. Problems begin when a robot from the future arrives and mistakingly shoots the wrong Sarah Connor (Understanding). These misunderstandings persist (trust the police, trust the scary guy in the overcoat?) until Sarah has no other choice but to take Kyle at his word. From there it’s a race to see how quickly Kyle can convince Sarah of her importance and the reality of their situation (Learning). The second half of the film focuses on the chase–beginning with the shootout at the police station and ending with the destruction of the Terminator (Doing and then Obtaining). It almost feels like one Act because Doing and Obtaining are so closely related, but it’s not. There is a meaningful shift from the running away (Doing) to the purposeful effort to destroy (Obtaining). That final movement becomes essential in a story exploring problems of activity. Leave that final Act out and the story would feel incomplete. The reason the story works rests in the fact that the Author explored all sides. Sarah rises to the occasion and defeats the robot menace once and for all.
Why the Need for an Act There may be some who see more Acts within a story–some say five, some say twenty, some forty-two–but most likely what they are seeing is something other than the true function of an Act. When seen within the context of a well-balanced argument, the reason why Acts exist becomes clear. Regardless of how an Author decides to divvy up their work, psychologically speaking the story can only function as the result of four movements.
Four acts. Four ways to explore a single point-of-view.
Advanced Story Theory for This Article Dramatica presents Authors with the tools necessary to explore all sides of an argument. By infusing their work with the meaningful utilization of distinct throughlines, an Author can create thematic balance, both objectively and subjectively. Modern audiences know better than simply black or white. They deserve stories that respect that wisdom.
This article originally appeared on Jim's Narrative First website. Hundreds of insightful articles, like this one, can be found in the Archives. Jim will be leading a 2-day Weekend of Dramatica introductory workshop this March 21-22. Introduce yourself to this wonderful and powerful theory of story!. Learn more.
Heroes Who Don't Change
January 2015
It would be irresponsible to suggest that one could craft a story without character development. Stories without this growth fail in the delivery of the Author's intended message. What of stories that have at their core a character who does adopt a new way of seeing the world?
When exposed to the polarizing concepts of the changing Hero and the steadfast Hero, many Authors make the mistaken assumption that the latter does not grow, that they don't “learn” anything. It is clear the former fits into the accepted notions of character-arc, Protagonists and development, but the latter lends itself to confusion. After all, characters who view the world with consistency end up uninteresting and lifeless, right?
Without Growth a Story Reaches Us Stillborn Stories fall flat without character development. Having sat through screenings of Iron Man 2 and The Informant, I can attest to the veracity of the rule. This failure does not come as a result of the Hero failing to learn something as much as it does from a lack of growth. Without proper growth, structural integrity collapses and the argument of the story breaks.
The act-by-act transitions that are a natural occurrence within great stories exist because the efforts to solve the problems at hand must adapt to new and ever-changing contexts. This is The Reason for Acts. They signify the end of exploring problem-solving in one area; time to move on to a new one. If the Hero did not grow and adapt to these new circumstances the whole purpose of the story would come into question.
Steadfast Heroes grow the same way.
Evolving by Standing Resolute Contrary to its imposing title, a Steadfast Hero grows. With the passing of each Act, this kind of character digs their heels in deeper and deeper, bolstering their stance in response to the rising tension. The Steadfastness refers to their final Resolve in the moment of crisis: do they change the way the way they are doing things or do they maintain the course? In other words, it has more to do with the final result rather than the process that brought them there. Getting there means as much personal change and adaptation as witnessed in their Changed cousin.
Structure Offers a Clue to the Author's Intent In How to Train Your Dragon where would Hiccup be if he continued to sit and stew about his unfair situation when all around him there were Vikings who were adapting to their new training and to the discovery of a big bad dragon? Beyond being a boring movie, there would be no point to the visceral three-dimensional action/adventure. But he did grow. He took a stance to protect these dragons and act-by-act he put more and more of his back into that controversial stance. He managed to find a way to overcome the bad reputation everyone had of him and managed to resolve his own personal problems.
What about Ray Kinsella (Kevin Costner) in Field of Dreams? That baseball field in Iowa would still be a cornfield, Terrence Mann (James Earl Jones) would still be hiding out in his apartment, Archibal ‘Moonlight' Graham (Burt Lancaster) would never have had the chance to hit one in the majors, and Ray himself would never have had a teary-eyed catch with his father (sorry for the spoiler) if he didn't trust those voices he was hearing in his head. Act-by-act (four to be precise), Ray has his approach challenged. Act-by-act Ray rises to the challenge. Even at the end, faced with the dual fruits of his folly–foreclosure and bankruptcy–Ray refuses to sell his farm. And as a result he heals the real problem of the relationship with his long since past father.
In both films, the Authors told us the right way to solve a problem. Hiccup promised to protect, Ray refused to question voices from beyond. While both were on the right track, not every Steadfast Hero is. Ask Randy the Ram in The Wrestler, Jake Gittes in Chinatown or Romeo in Romeo and Juliet. While each of these found a way to solve the problems at hand in their individual stories, personally they were taking the wrong approach.
The Audience's Interpretation Tarnishes a Story There is no way around it: Audiences will draw meaning from the story presented and there is nothing anyone can do to change that. While Authors have something to say, it is the Audience who must finish the transmission by interpreting the story's events. This is where the problem comes for those who fear Heroes who don't “learn” something.
What a Hero “learns” is something an audience creates themselves upon finishing a story. Assuming the story is whole and the Hero has grown (a big assumption in an era when all Hollywood asks of its heroes is that they have a built-in audience, preferably the type that nurtures a fetish for spandex), the audience will interpret the difference between where the Hero ends and where they began as the adoption of some sort of knowledge. When Authors create a story they need not concentrate on developing something that is beyond their reign.
Heroes do NOT Have to Learn Something Last week's article made the distinction between Heroes who grow by learning and Heroes who grow by teaching. That article proved the purpose of story not to be to teach the central character something revelatory, but rather to argue that a particular way of solving a problem is either right or wrong. Offering an audience the chance to experience problem-solving and its results from within the eyes of this character and from without is the power of complete stories. It gives an Author the opportunity to argue their unique perspective in a way that can't exist in real life.
This is the power of great stories.
Authors should worry less about what the audience interprets from their story and more about making sure their message is as succinct and as clear as possible. Make sure that the character's growth in approach moves with each act. Leave the interpretation–and notions of learning and teaching–to the Audience.
Advanced Story Theory for This Article In Dramatica, this growth that a Main Character undergoes, whether they are Change or Steadfast, appears as the Main Character Growth. Once the Main Character's Direction, this appreciation describes the course a Main Character will take on their way to their final Resolve. Whether Stop or Start, more detail on this story point lives within the article Applying Pressure to the Main Character.
Solving the problems within the big picture story while failing personally (as in the examples of The Wrestler, Chinatown, and Romeo and Juliet) exemplify the need to differentiate between the Overall Story Throughline (the big picture part) and the Main Character Throughline (the personal part). Success in one end doesn't necessarily mean a resolution in the other, and vice versa. The combination between the two offers a story's Meaningful Ending.
January 2015
It would be irresponsible to suggest that one could craft a story without character development. Stories without this growth fail in the delivery of the Author's intended message. What of stories that have at their core a character who does adopt a new way of seeing the world?
When exposed to the polarizing concepts of the changing Hero and the steadfast Hero, many Authors make the mistaken assumption that the latter does not grow, that they don't “learn” anything. It is clear the former fits into the accepted notions of character-arc, Protagonists and development, but the latter lends itself to confusion. After all, characters who view the world with consistency end up uninteresting and lifeless, right?
Without Growth a Story Reaches Us Stillborn Stories fall flat without character development. Having sat through screenings of Iron Man 2 and The Informant, I can attest to the veracity of the rule. This failure does not come as a result of the Hero failing to learn something as much as it does from a lack of growth. Without proper growth, structural integrity collapses and the argument of the story breaks.
The act-by-act transitions that are a natural occurrence within great stories exist because the efforts to solve the problems at hand must adapt to new and ever-changing contexts. This is The Reason for Acts. They signify the end of exploring problem-solving in one area; time to move on to a new one. If the Hero did not grow and adapt to these new circumstances the whole purpose of the story would come into question.
Steadfast Heroes grow the same way.
Evolving by Standing Resolute Contrary to its imposing title, a Steadfast Hero grows. With the passing of each Act, this kind of character digs their heels in deeper and deeper, bolstering their stance in response to the rising tension. The Steadfastness refers to their final Resolve in the moment of crisis: do they change the way the way they are doing things or do they maintain the course? In other words, it has more to do with the final result rather than the process that brought them there. Getting there means as much personal change and adaptation as witnessed in their Changed cousin.
Structure Offers a Clue to the Author's Intent In How to Train Your Dragon where would Hiccup be if he continued to sit and stew about his unfair situation when all around him there were Vikings who were adapting to their new training and to the discovery of a big bad dragon? Beyond being a boring movie, there would be no point to the visceral three-dimensional action/adventure. But he did grow. He took a stance to protect these dragons and act-by-act he put more and more of his back into that controversial stance. He managed to find a way to overcome the bad reputation everyone had of him and managed to resolve his own personal problems.
What about Ray Kinsella (Kevin Costner) in Field of Dreams? That baseball field in Iowa would still be a cornfield, Terrence Mann (James Earl Jones) would still be hiding out in his apartment, Archibal ‘Moonlight' Graham (Burt Lancaster) would never have had the chance to hit one in the majors, and Ray himself would never have had a teary-eyed catch with his father (sorry for the spoiler) if he didn't trust those voices he was hearing in his head. Act-by-act (four to be precise), Ray has his approach challenged. Act-by-act Ray rises to the challenge. Even at the end, faced with the dual fruits of his folly–foreclosure and bankruptcy–Ray refuses to sell his farm. And as a result he heals the real problem of the relationship with his long since past father.
In both films, the Authors told us the right way to solve a problem. Hiccup promised to protect, Ray refused to question voices from beyond. While both were on the right track, not every Steadfast Hero is. Ask Randy the Ram in The Wrestler, Jake Gittes in Chinatown or Romeo in Romeo and Juliet. While each of these found a way to solve the problems at hand in their individual stories, personally they were taking the wrong approach.
The Audience's Interpretation Tarnishes a Story There is no way around it: Audiences will draw meaning from the story presented and there is nothing anyone can do to change that. While Authors have something to say, it is the Audience who must finish the transmission by interpreting the story's events. This is where the problem comes for those who fear Heroes who don't “learn” something.
What a Hero “learns” is something an audience creates themselves upon finishing a story. Assuming the story is whole and the Hero has grown (a big assumption in an era when all Hollywood asks of its heroes is that they have a built-in audience, preferably the type that nurtures a fetish for spandex), the audience will interpret the difference between where the Hero ends and where they began as the adoption of some sort of knowledge. When Authors create a story they need not concentrate on developing something that is beyond their reign.
Heroes do NOT Have to Learn Something Last week's article made the distinction between Heroes who grow by learning and Heroes who grow by teaching. That article proved the purpose of story not to be to teach the central character something revelatory, but rather to argue that a particular way of solving a problem is either right or wrong. Offering an audience the chance to experience problem-solving and its results from within the eyes of this character and from without is the power of complete stories. It gives an Author the opportunity to argue their unique perspective in a way that can't exist in real life.
This is the power of great stories.
Authors should worry less about what the audience interprets from their story and more about making sure their message is as succinct and as clear as possible. Make sure that the character's growth in approach moves with each act. Leave the interpretation–and notions of learning and teaching–to the Audience.
Advanced Story Theory for This Article In Dramatica, this growth that a Main Character undergoes, whether they are Change or Steadfast, appears as the Main Character Growth. Once the Main Character's Direction, this appreciation describes the course a Main Character will take on their way to their final Resolve. Whether Stop or Start, more detail on this story point lives within the article Applying Pressure to the Main Character.
Solving the problems within the big picture story while failing personally (as in the examples of The Wrestler, Chinatown, and Romeo and Juliet) exemplify the need to differentiate between the Overall Story Throughline (the big picture part) and the Main Character Throughline (the personal part). Success in one end doesn't necessarily mean a resolution in the other, and vice versa. The combination between the two offers a story's Meaningful Ending.
This article originally appeared March 03, 2011 on Jim's Narrative First website. Hundreds of insightful articles, like this one, can be found in the Archives. Jim will be leading a 2-day Weekend of Dramatica Workshop this March 21-22. Introduce yourself to this wonderful and powerful theory of story!. Learn more.
The Science of Storytelling
December 2014
Monumental leaps in understanding herald the progress of man. Fire. The wheel. Indoor plumbing. Dramatica. The latest development in our understanding of narrative has the potential to improve things far better than the ability to cook our meat.
Some, however, would prefer to stay in the past. Author and USC Adjunct Professor Gene Del Vecchio had this to say in his article on "The LEGO Movie and The Science of Storytelling":
The success of The Lego Movie is science first and foremost, masterfully brought to life with artistic flair. How do we know this? Because Aristotle told us so over two thousand years ago.
Yes, Aristotle started this whole narrative as a science gig. And yes, Campbell and Vogler built upon that foundation with their interest in Hero's Journeys. McKee and Snyder took it one step further by making all that palpable and marketable to an otherwise distracted culture. But what of the next evolutionary step?
Del Vecchio fails to mention the Dramatica theory of story. Billed on its website as the "Next Chapter in Story Development", Dramatica surpasses these rather introductory examinations of narrative. If Aristotle was Kindergarten (and really, it is), and if the Hero's Journey was elementary school and Save the Cat! junior high, then Dramatica is the PhD of storytelling. Steeped in human psychology rather than observed movie references and audience research, this giant leap forward in our collective understanding can significantly improve the quality of storytelling.
Junk Science
Examine, if you will, this Periodic Table of Story Elements:
December 2014
Monumental leaps in understanding herald the progress of man. Fire. The wheel. Indoor plumbing. Dramatica. The latest development in our understanding of narrative has the potential to improve things far better than the ability to cook our meat.
Some, however, would prefer to stay in the past. Author and USC Adjunct Professor Gene Del Vecchio had this to say in his article on "The LEGO Movie and The Science of Storytelling":
The success of The Lego Movie is science first and foremost, masterfully brought to life with artistic flair. How do we know this? Because Aristotle told us so over two thousand years ago.
Yes, Aristotle started this whole narrative as a science gig. And yes, Campbell and Vogler built upon that foundation with their interest in Hero's Journeys. McKee and Snyder took it one step further by making all that palpable and marketable to an otherwise distracted culture. But what of the next evolutionary step?
Del Vecchio fails to mention the Dramatica theory of story. Billed on its website as the "Next Chapter in Story Development", Dramatica surpasses these rather introductory examinations of narrative. If Aristotle was Kindergarten (and really, it is), and if the Hero's Journey was elementary school and Save the Cat! junior high, then Dramatica is the PhD of storytelling. Steeped in human psychology rather than observed movie references and audience research, this giant leap forward in our collective understanding can significantly improve the quality of storytelling.
Junk Science
Examine, if you will, this Periodic Table of Story Elements:
This is not Dramatica. Combining ridiculous "tropes" like the MacGuffin and Adventurer Archaeologist into a single chart, this chart attempts to pass popularity as science.1 The chemical "base" and position of each item on the chart identifies nothing more than the number of links pointing to the element. Disregarding the relative cynicism and uselessness of a trope itself, what value does the commonality of a storytelling device hold? Is one supposed to insert a Genre Savvy character because it carries more "kilowicks" than the Jerk with a Heart of Gold? Or is one supposed to avoid this character because everyone is doing it?
The chart is pointless.
Compare this with Dramatica's Table of Story Elements:
The chart is pointless.
Compare this with Dramatica's Table of Story Elements:
Not as pretty, but 5,000 times more useful to a writer. And less cynical. The Dramatica theory of story doesn't say it has all been done before. The Dramatica theory of story says there are thousands of different ways to craft a story's argument. Pick one and let your creativity determine how to present it, regardless of what has come before. Leave tropes for the less imaginative.
Dramatica's chart helps a writer balance out their argument so it doesn't feel one-sided. The position of each and every element holds significant meaning, especially in relation to the elements around it. It's no coincidence that the relationship between The Past and Situation matches the physical relationship between Memories and Fixed Attitude. One can find comparisons like this throughout the entire chart because high level math exists beneath all of them. Tangent, co-tangent and secant? Dramatica relies on real science and real math like to help pull these appreciations of story together.
Contrast the sophistication of Dramatica's understanding to that of the Hero's Journey:
The narrative should begin, they say, by immersing the audience into the hero's world, having the hero receive a call to adventure, making him first refuse the call, allowing him to then meet a mentor who convinces him to follow the call, and so forth.
Storytelling conventions masquerading as science. No relationship from one beat to the next and no explanation as to why they operate.
Act One runs 30 minutes...Act Two should run 60 minutes...Act Three should ideally run another 30 minutes...This time-based storyline blueprint has proven over time to be critical because each Act is segmented in a way that keeps the audience's attention, making the story not too long nor too short.
Audience attention? That's a highly subjective analysis and open to all kinds of interpretation. Dramatica, on the other hand, has a very objective and reasoned explanation why stories have four major movements, or Acts.
Referring to the chart above you'll see on one level the story appreciations of Obtaining, Doing, Learning and Understanding. Each of these represents a different way of examining an Activity. When making an argument (or delivering a "message"), competent writers need to address all the different ways their characters can go about solving their problems. Once each has been dealt with, the story is over. Why go back and cover ground that has already been covered?
That's why there are four Acts.
It has nothing to do with audience attention, and everything to do with delivering a balanced and complete argument.
Evolutionary Understanding
In a recent radio interview, physicist Brian Greene had this to say about his particular area of research:
physics...many people think of it as some subject that they are forced to take in high school and they're so thrilled when they finish it because then they can forget about the whole thing,...but that's a sort of tragic perspective...physics is a way of understanding reality, of engaging with the world, of making sense of your own existence in the deepest possible way.
This is what I personally love about Dramatica. I love great stories. I love those stories that sit with you long after you've left the theater. I love those stories that haunt you all weekend long when you're caught up in a great novel. I love that feeling.
Dramatica makes sense of that feeling by giving an understanding of the dynamics at work in "the deepest possible way."
A lot of times I'm asked "Oh, how can I fit my story into the Dramatica template?" or "I don't know if I can come up with the 28 scenes Dramatica says has to be in every story." First of all, Dramatica theory doesn't say every story has to have 28 scenes–thats a misunderstanding from the theory book. Secondly, and more importantly, there is no real Dramatica "template". Stories don't fit into beat sheets or waypoints along a journey–it's the other way around. Dramatica gives us the chance to look at story and understand what is truly there.
In that same radio interview, Brian Greene had this to say about evolutionary understanding:
even Einstein himself knew he was taking an incremental step forward, giving us a deeper understanding of space and time and gravity. But he knew it wasn't the end of the story because the way physics and science in general works, people understand something in one era and then in a later era they expand the understanding. They typically don't wipe out what happened in the past. Newton is still with us..and its good...because its a close approximation to the truth...but Einstein did a better job....and ten, hundred years, somebody else is going to do a better job still.
This evolution was the point of Del Vecchio's article, but instead of detailing the latest and greatest, he relied the well-traveled. Aristotle was a close approximation, nothing more. Analyze the Greek's groundbreaking concept of "beginning, middle and end" against Dramatica's Main Character Unique Ability. One illustrates a key ingredient for matching character to plot, the other only aids in writing the Table of Contents.
Why This Main Character?
Do you ever wonder why a Main Character is even in a story? Was it some random decision the Author made? It could be. But the only way that character becomes an integral part of a story is through the employment of their Unique Ability. This concept ties the Main Character into the larger Overall Story that everyone is concerned with. It gives him or her the ability to bring a successful conclusion to all the problems everyone is facing.
As a deeply connected man in possession of letters of transit, Rick finds himself in the unique position of being the only one able to bring the problems of Casablanca to an end. This Unique Ability of Closure ties him into the story, making him the Main Character. And what of Batman/Bruce Wayne's Unique Ability of Threat in The Dark Knight? The only way someone could save a city like Gotham would be if they represented an even greater danger than the psychotic criminals they hope to overcome.
Now, knowing that this concept of narrative exists, do we really want to return to the Stone Age granted to us by Aristotle??
A Call for Progress
One last quote from Brian Greene in regards to math:
Math is a language that many of us are less familiar with. [It's a] language optimally suited for analyzing a certain class of problems
Bad stories exist. Trust me, I've worked on more than one. They're a real problem for many who work in the film industry because so many give their life and soul to what ultimately is a forgettable and pointless story.
Dramatica presents a language optimally suited for analyzing the problems inherent in story. What's more, it provides a scientific framework for quickly and adequately resolving those problems. It can be frustrating and overwhelming at first, but after years of study and the gaining of familiarity one begins to see story in an entirely new light. In a way, learning Dramatica helps authors develop their story sense.
The Weekend of Dramatica assists this process: helping writers from all walks, whether they be filmmakers or actors or writers, to better understand narrative and condition themselves to spot those problem areas.2 Knowing Dramatica is like having a powerful and prescient tool to help cut through the murk of constant rewrites and disappointing drafts.
Like most foreign languages Dramatica can be quite a challenge at first. There will be moments here and there where things will make more sense and seem familiar, and then there will be those times when you want to quit altogether and proclaim "I don't need Dramatica." That would be like saying "I don't need gravity" or "I don't need oxygen." These are things that bind us together in the physical world regardless of our affinity for them. Real, demonstrable scientific facts.
You can ignore it all you want, but like gravity and oxygen, there comes a time when you need to know what holds a story together and what gives it motivation. That's the only way to truly move forward. The concepts and theories of Dramatica bind us together in our collective appreciation of narrative. By introducing the world to real narrative science, Dramatica helps writers develop their story sense and move beyond the trappings of prehistoric times.
Dramatica's chart helps a writer balance out their argument so it doesn't feel one-sided. The position of each and every element holds significant meaning, especially in relation to the elements around it. It's no coincidence that the relationship between The Past and Situation matches the physical relationship between Memories and Fixed Attitude. One can find comparisons like this throughout the entire chart because high level math exists beneath all of them. Tangent, co-tangent and secant? Dramatica relies on real science and real math like to help pull these appreciations of story together.
Contrast the sophistication of Dramatica's understanding to that of the Hero's Journey:
The narrative should begin, they say, by immersing the audience into the hero's world, having the hero receive a call to adventure, making him first refuse the call, allowing him to then meet a mentor who convinces him to follow the call, and so forth.
Storytelling conventions masquerading as science. No relationship from one beat to the next and no explanation as to why they operate.
Act One runs 30 minutes...Act Two should run 60 minutes...Act Three should ideally run another 30 minutes...This time-based storyline blueprint has proven over time to be critical because each Act is segmented in a way that keeps the audience's attention, making the story not too long nor too short.
Audience attention? That's a highly subjective analysis and open to all kinds of interpretation. Dramatica, on the other hand, has a very objective and reasoned explanation why stories have four major movements, or Acts.
Referring to the chart above you'll see on one level the story appreciations of Obtaining, Doing, Learning and Understanding. Each of these represents a different way of examining an Activity. When making an argument (or delivering a "message"), competent writers need to address all the different ways their characters can go about solving their problems. Once each has been dealt with, the story is over. Why go back and cover ground that has already been covered?
That's why there are four Acts.
It has nothing to do with audience attention, and everything to do with delivering a balanced and complete argument.
Evolutionary Understanding
In a recent radio interview, physicist Brian Greene had this to say about his particular area of research:
physics...many people think of it as some subject that they are forced to take in high school and they're so thrilled when they finish it because then they can forget about the whole thing,...but that's a sort of tragic perspective...physics is a way of understanding reality, of engaging with the world, of making sense of your own existence in the deepest possible way.
This is what I personally love about Dramatica. I love great stories. I love those stories that sit with you long after you've left the theater. I love those stories that haunt you all weekend long when you're caught up in a great novel. I love that feeling.
Dramatica makes sense of that feeling by giving an understanding of the dynamics at work in "the deepest possible way."
A lot of times I'm asked "Oh, how can I fit my story into the Dramatica template?" or "I don't know if I can come up with the 28 scenes Dramatica says has to be in every story." First of all, Dramatica theory doesn't say every story has to have 28 scenes–thats a misunderstanding from the theory book. Secondly, and more importantly, there is no real Dramatica "template". Stories don't fit into beat sheets or waypoints along a journey–it's the other way around. Dramatica gives us the chance to look at story and understand what is truly there.
In that same radio interview, Brian Greene had this to say about evolutionary understanding:
even Einstein himself knew he was taking an incremental step forward, giving us a deeper understanding of space and time and gravity. But he knew it wasn't the end of the story because the way physics and science in general works, people understand something in one era and then in a later era they expand the understanding. They typically don't wipe out what happened in the past. Newton is still with us..and its good...because its a close approximation to the truth...but Einstein did a better job....and ten, hundred years, somebody else is going to do a better job still.
This evolution was the point of Del Vecchio's article, but instead of detailing the latest and greatest, he relied the well-traveled. Aristotle was a close approximation, nothing more. Analyze the Greek's groundbreaking concept of "beginning, middle and end" against Dramatica's Main Character Unique Ability. One illustrates a key ingredient for matching character to plot, the other only aids in writing the Table of Contents.
Why This Main Character?
Do you ever wonder why a Main Character is even in a story? Was it some random decision the Author made? It could be. But the only way that character becomes an integral part of a story is through the employment of their Unique Ability. This concept ties the Main Character into the larger Overall Story that everyone is concerned with. It gives him or her the ability to bring a successful conclusion to all the problems everyone is facing.
As a deeply connected man in possession of letters of transit, Rick finds himself in the unique position of being the only one able to bring the problems of Casablanca to an end. This Unique Ability of Closure ties him into the story, making him the Main Character. And what of Batman/Bruce Wayne's Unique Ability of Threat in The Dark Knight? The only way someone could save a city like Gotham would be if they represented an even greater danger than the psychotic criminals they hope to overcome.
Now, knowing that this concept of narrative exists, do we really want to return to the Stone Age granted to us by Aristotle??
A Call for Progress
One last quote from Brian Greene in regards to math:
Math is a language that many of us are less familiar with. [It's a] language optimally suited for analyzing a certain class of problems
Bad stories exist. Trust me, I've worked on more than one. They're a real problem for many who work in the film industry because so many give their life and soul to what ultimately is a forgettable and pointless story.
Dramatica presents a language optimally suited for analyzing the problems inherent in story. What's more, it provides a scientific framework for quickly and adequately resolving those problems. It can be frustrating and overwhelming at first, but after years of study and the gaining of familiarity one begins to see story in an entirely new light. In a way, learning Dramatica helps authors develop their story sense.
The Weekend of Dramatica assists this process: helping writers from all walks, whether they be filmmakers or actors or writers, to better understand narrative and condition themselves to spot those problem areas.2 Knowing Dramatica is like having a powerful and prescient tool to help cut through the murk of constant rewrites and disappointing drafts.
Like most foreign languages Dramatica can be quite a challenge at first. There will be moments here and there where things will make more sense and seem familiar, and then there will be those times when you want to quit altogether and proclaim "I don't need Dramatica." That would be like saying "I don't need gravity" or "I don't need oxygen." These are things that bind us together in the physical world regardless of our affinity for them. Real, demonstrable scientific facts.
You can ignore it all you want, but like gravity and oxygen, there comes a time when you need to know what holds a story together and what gives it motivation. That's the only way to truly move forward. The concepts and theories of Dramatica bind us together in our collective appreciation of narrative. By introducing the world to real narrative science, Dramatica helps writers develop their story sense and move beyond the trappings of prehistoric times.
- No concept of story has been proven to be more useless than the MacGuffin. If George Lucas relies on the MacGuffin, you know it has to be a busted notion. The MacGuffin is a Joke ‹--
- The Weekend of Dramatica is a 2-day deep dive into the murky and exciting waters of story theory. Spacing limited, so reserve now. ‹--
This article originally appeared on Jim's Narrative First website. Hundreds of insightful articles, like this one, can be found in the Archives.
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James Hull is an animator by trade, avid storyteller by night. He also teaches classes on Story at the California Institute of the Arts (CalArts). You can find more articles like this on his site dedicated to all things story at...
NarrativeFirst.com For past articles for Screenplay.com by James Hull, click here. |
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