Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Reinventing genres
In an article about Steven Spielberg's new release, War of the Worlds, Newsweek describes how screenwriter David Koepp (pronounced: Kep) created a list of genre-specific cliches he did not want in the $135 million movie:
David Koepp is the screenwriter behind the blockbuster movies Spider-Man, Jurassic Park, and Panic Room. Four of his movies have opened at number one in theatres. His most successful stories reinvented the action/adventure genre.
The conventions of a genre are what make it recognizable and satisfying to audiences (and readers). What's a cozy mystery without an amateur sleuth? What's a romance without a happily-ever-after ending? At the same time some situations and events in a specific genre have shown up repeatedly enough to become cliche. These cliches are what drag a story down, sapping it of the freshness that could elevate it above similar stories and even cross genre boundaries. When audiences (or readers) stumble across a cliche, their brains go on autopilot. "Been there, done that." They aren't engaged in the story any longer, trying to figure out what comes next, because they've already seen the same thing too many times.
So, how does a writer distinguish between conventions (which are good) and cliches (which are bad)?
First, make a list like Koepp. What events/situations have been repeated in similar stories? What are the kinds of scenes most likely to occur in stories in this specific genre? What's been done before?
Second, check the author's motivation for each item on the list. What is the writer trying to accomplish in the story by having this event/situation happen? Is there a fresher way to accomplish the same thing? Check off the items that absolutely cannot be done any differently.
Third, check the story motivation behind each item. Are the characters involved in these events/situations strongly motivated? Or, do these events happen just because they are vaguely expected to in this type of story? Check the items off the list that have strong character motivation driving them.
Fourth, review the list again. Is there any item absolutely necessary in order to recognize the story as a [name the genre] story? For instance, a scene where the body is discovered is necessary to a murder mystery. Check those items off the list.
Now that all the genre conventions have been identified and marked, the remaining events/situations are probably all cliches to be avoided. By mapping out these potholes in advance, the writer's journey to "The End" will be much smoother--and more imaginative.
"One: no destruction of famous landmarks.
Two: no unnecessary beating up of New York City.
Three: no politicians or scientists or generals as main characters.
Four: no shots of military leaders pushing ships around on a big map with sticks.
And five: no shots of world capitals."
David Koepp is the screenwriter behind the blockbuster movies Spider-Man, Jurassic Park, and Panic Room. Four of his movies have opened at number one in theatres. His most successful stories reinvented the action/adventure genre.
The conventions of a genre are what make it recognizable and satisfying to audiences (and readers). What's a cozy mystery without an amateur sleuth? What's a romance without a happily-ever-after ending? At the same time some situations and events in a specific genre have shown up repeatedly enough to become cliche. These cliches are what drag a story down, sapping it of the freshness that could elevate it above similar stories and even cross genre boundaries. When audiences (or readers) stumble across a cliche, their brains go on autopilot. "Been there, done that." They aren't engaged in the story any longer, trying to figure out what comes next, because they've already seen the same thing too many times.
So, how does a writer distinguish between conventions (which are good) and cliches (which are bad)?
First, make a list like Koepp. What events/situations have been repeated in similar stories? What are the kinds of scenes most likely to occur in stories in this specific genre? What's been done before?
Second, check the author's motivation for each item on the list. What is the writer trying to accomplish in the story by having this event/situation happen? Is there a fresher way to accomplish the same thing? Check off the items that absolutely cannot be done any differently.
Third, check the story motivation behind each item. Are the characters involved in these events/situations strongly motivated? Or, do these events happen just because they are vaguely expected to in this type of story? Check the items off the list that have strong character motivation driving them.
Fourth, review the list again. Is there any item absolutely necessary in order to recognize the story as a [name the genre] story? For instance, a scene where the body is discovered is necessary to a murder mystery. Check those items off the list.
Now that all the genre conventions have been identified and marked, the remaining events/situations are probably all cliches to be avoided. By mapping out these potholes in advance, the writer's journey to "The End" will be much smoother--and more imaginative.
Monday, June 27, 2005
Genre fiction
What is genre fiction and why should writers care?
Genre fiction most often focuses on a central protagonist involved in conflict with another character over a specific goal or decision. Some genres are most often plot-driven (for instance, action-adventure stories), while some genres are most often character-driven (for instance, women's fiction). But even character-driven stories in genre fiction have a plot.
If fiction was fruit, then genres would be specific types of fruit: grapes, oranges, apples, etc. Some readers enjoy certain genres better than others, just like they enjoy certain fruits better than others. Picking a certain genre to write in has the built-in benefit of a potential readership. Plus, editors and agents appreciate submissions that intelligently fit the genres they specialize in and marketing committee's "menu plans."
Also, genres are easy for bookstores to classify. That means your book (should you choose to write within a genre) will be shelved in the most likely place for readers interested in similar stories to find it. This holds true for brick-and-mortar stores as well as popular online retailers. Genres can be broken down into smaller categories, resulting in hundreds of subgenres from which a writer can choose. Here's a short list of some the genres and subgenres classified by Amazon.com and BarnesAndNoble.com:
Action & Adventure
Fairy Tales
Family Saga
Historical
Horror
Movie Tie-Ins
Mystery
Political
Religion & Spirituality
Romance
Sea Adventures
Science Fiction & Fantasy
Sports
Thrillers
War
Western
Women's Fiction
Genre fiction most often focuses on a central protagonist involved in conflict with another character over a specific goal or decision. Some genres are most often plot-driven (for instance, action-adventure stories), while some genres are most often character-driven (for instance, women's fiction). But even character-driven stories in genre fiction have a plot.
If fiction was fruit, then genres would be specific types of fruit: grapes, oranges, apples, etc. Some readers enjoy certain genres better than others, just like they enjoy certain fruits better than others. Picking a certain genre to write in has the built-in benefit of a potential readership. Plus, editors and agents appreciate submissions that intelligently fit the genres they specialize in and marketing committee's "menu plans."
Also, genres are easy for bookstores to classify. That means your book (should you choose to write within a genre) will be shelved in the most likely place for readers interested in similar stories to find it. This holds true for brick-and-mortar stores as well as popular online retailers. Genres can be broken down into smaller categories, resulting in hundreds of subgenres from which a writer can choose. Here's a short list of some the genres and subgenres classified by Amazon.com and BarnesAndNoble.com:
Action & Adventure
Fairy Tales
Family Saga
Historical
Horror
- Ghost stories
- Gothic Horror
- Inner Demons
- Lost, Abandoned, and Alone
- Sacred and Profane
- Supernatural
- Vampires
- Werewolves & Other Beasts
Movie Tie-Ins
Mystery
- Crime
- Detective
- Multicultural Detectives
- Police Stories
- Women Detectives
Political
Religion & Spirituality
- Biblical
- Historical
- Mystery
- Romance
- Science Fiction & Fantasy
- Visionary Fiction
Romance
- African American & Multicultural
- Anthologies
- Contemporary Christian Romance
- Contemporary
- Fantasy, Futuristic & Ghost
- Gothic
- Historical
- Historical Christian Romance
- Regency
- Religious
- Romantic Suspense
- Sagas
- Series
- Time Travel
Sea Adventures
Science Fiction & Fantasy
- Alternate Realities
- Fantasy
- High Tech and Hard Science Fiction
- Social Science Fiction
- Space Exploration
Sports
Thrillers
- Action
- Africana
- Aviation
- Christian
- Espionage
- Financial
- Legal
- Medical
- Men's Action and Adventure
- Military
- Mob
- Political
- Psychological Suspense
- Pulp Adventure
- Assassin & Terrorist Thrillers
- Conspiracies & Cover-Ups
- Nail-Biters
- Stalkers & Serial Killers
- Supernatural & Strange Science
War
Western
- Adventure
- Christian
- Coming of Age
- Contemporary
- Native American
- Religious & Inspirational
- Cowboys and Ranchers
- Explorers
- Family Sagas
- Frontier
- Gunslingers
- Historical and Legendary Figures
- Humorous and Parodies
- Lawmen and Bounty Hunters
- Love Conquers All
- Lust in the Dust
- Mountain Men, Trackers, Hunters, and Trappers
- Outlaws, Vengeance and Vigilante Justice
- Pioneers and Homesteaders
- Prospectors, Mines, and Gold Rushes
- Soldiers and Warfare
- Women of the West
Women's Fiction
- Divorce
- Domestic Life
- Friendship
- Mothers & Children
- Single Women
- Sisters
Friday, June 24, 2005
INTO THE WEST: "showing" instead of "telling" character goals
Year: 2005
Genre: Western miniseries, made for television
Cast: Matthew Settle, Tonantzin Carmelo, Beau Bridges, Keri Russell
Director: Simon Wincer
Teleplay: Cyrus Nowrasteh
Story: William Mastrosimone
Into the West: Manifest Destiny continues the story of Jacob Wheeler and his family. Jacob moves his growing family back east to live with his parents, but his attempt to plant roots withers rapidly beneath the unrelenting restlessness blazing in his soul. Soon Thunder Heart Woman and their children find themselves trekking to California, accompanied by Jacob's brother and three female cousins. Hardships, accidents, and Indian attacks take their toll on the family, until those who aren't killed are left shattered and hopelessly separated.
Meanwhile, the Lakotas wrestle with internal divisions. Rival tribes become more aggressive with new firearms obtained from white traders. Some Lakotas fear extinction at the hands of their ancestral enemies unless they "fight fire with fire" by also adopting the white men's weapons. Loved By the Buffalo's brother, Dog Star, struggles to unite the remainder of the Lakotas and keep them true to the old ways.
In the second episode of Into the West, the balance of the story focuses on Jacob. Loved by the Buffalo, a major character in the first episode, makes few appearances here. Instead, the Lakota plotline is carried by his brother, Dog Star, and concerns cultural and political conflicts. While the principal characters visibly suffer doubt and disillusionment, the external cause-and-effects are more vivid than in the first episode. This improved balance between internal and external makes this storyline more interesting than it was before, and easier to follow.
In this episode, Jacob develops a clearer external goal than before. He wants a place to build a home and settle down with his family. That's what he says he wants. It's the type of clear goal an audience can latch onto and measure the story's pace by as the protagonist pursues it.
The problem is Jacob has another goal, which is unstated and largely unconscious to him. His inner goal is to wander through the west until he finds himself. This goal is in direct opposition to his stated external goal of building a place to settle down with his family.
Jacob's internal and external goals, when combined, contain the ingredients for great conflict, because the internal goal works against and undermines his efforts to attain his external goal. It's building toward self-realization and a moment of meaningful character growth. Which is a vital thing to have working in a story.
But something happens in this episode of Into the West that undermines the promise of Jacob's plotline: the ingredients are measured disproportionately. Jacob's external goal is told to the audience, but he is never shown pursuing it. For instance, only through narration is it learned that Jacob and his family spend three years building houses and cultivating farms on their way to meet up with a California wagon train. The building and cultivating would have shown Jacob pursuing his external goal. Instead, the audience is shown his pursuing his internal goal, which is constantly moving, moving, moving. The key scenes between him and Thunder Heart Woman involve her trying to get him to settle down in one place, and his stubbornly rejecting sound advice in favor of launching them on yet another migration.
When the family is separated, Jacob speaks with urgency about facilitating their reunion. However, the actions backing up his claim are only told, while the ones shown to the audience demonstrate a peculiar lack of initiative.
The episode culminates with a surprise twist guaranteed to emotionally impact the audience. Entire stories have been built around the same kind of traumatic situation. Enoch Arden by Tennyson and Beneath a Southern Sky by Deborah Raney leap to mind as heartrending examples from classic and modern fiction.
However, because the audience sees Jacob only pursuing his internal goal to remain a rolling stone, his final sacrifice in the end doesn't feel like as much of a sacrifice as it should. He tells himself he's making a noble sacrifice and experiences sadness over it, but it feels to the audience more like he's getting exactly what he's wanted all along. His internal goal triumphs, but without his external goal making much of a show in the story, the final decision feels like it was a fixed fight.
Genre: Western miniseries, made for television
Cast: Matthew Settle, Tonantzin Carmelo, Beau Bridges, Keri Russell
Director: Simon Wincer
Teleplay: Cyrus Nowrasteh
Story: William Mastrosimone
Into the West: Manifest Destiny continues the story of Jacob Wheeler and his family. Jacob moves his growing family back east to live with his parents, but his attempt to plant roots withers rapidly beneath the unrelenting restlessness blazing in his soul. Soon Thunder Heart Woman and their children find themselves trekking to California, accompanied by Jacob's brother and three female cousins. Hardships, accidents, and Indian attacks take their toll on the family, until those who aren't killed are left shattered and hopelessly separated.
Meanwhile, the Lakotas wrestle with internal divisions. Rival tribes become more aggressive with new firearms obtained from white traders. Some Lakotas fear extinction at the hands of their ancestral enemies unless they "fight fire with fire" by also adopting the white men's weapons. Loved By the Buffalo's brother, Dog Star, struggles to unite the remainder of the Lakotas and keep them true to the old ways.
In the second episode of Into the West, the balance of the story focuses on Jacob. Loved by the Buffalo, a major character in the first episode, makes few appearances here. Instead, the Lakota plotline is carried by his brother, Dog Star, and concerns cultural and political conflicts. While the principal characters visibly suffer doubt and disillusionment, the external cause-and-effects are more vivid than in the first episode. This improved balance between internal and external makes this storyline more interesting than it was before, and easier to follow.
In this episode, Jacob develops a clearer external goal than before. He wants a place to build a home and settle down with his family. That's what he says he wants. It's the type of clear goal an audience can latch onto and measure the story's pace by as the protagonist pursues it.
The problem is Jacob has another goal, which is unstated and largely unconscious to him. His inner goal is to wander through the west until he finds himself. This goal is in direct opposition to his stated external goal of building a place to settle down with his family.
Jacob's internal and external goals, when combined, contain the ingredients for great conflict, because the internal goal works against and undermines his efforts to attain his external goal. It's building toward self-realization and a moment of meaningful character growth. Which is a vital thing to have working in a story.
But something happens in this episode of Into the West that undermines the promise of Jacob's plotline: the ingredients are measured disproportionately. Jacob's external goal is told to the audience, but he is never shown pursuing it. For instance, only through narration is it learned that Jacob and his family spend three years building houses and cultivating farms on their way to meet up with a California wagon train. The building and cultivating would have shown Jacob pursuing his external goal. Instead, the audience is shown his pursuing his internal goal, which is constantly moving, moving, moving. The key scenes between him and Thunder Heart Woman involve her trying to get him to settle down in one place, and his stubbornly rejecting sound advice in favor of launching them on yet another migration.
When the family is separated, Jacob speaks with urgency about facilitating their reunion. However, the actions backing up his claim are only told, while the ones shown to the audience demonstrate a peculiar lack of initiative.
The episode culminates with a surprise twist guaranteed to emotionally impact the audience. Entire stories have been built around the same kind of traumatic situation. Enoch Arden by Tennyson and Beneath a Southern Sky by Deborah Raney leap to mind as heartrending examples from classic and modern fiction.
However, because the audience sees Jacob only pursuing his internal goal to remain a rolling stone, his final sacrifice in the end doesn't feel like as much of a sacrifice as it should. He tells himself he's making a noble sacrifice and experiences sadness over it, but it feels to the audience more like he's getting exactly what he's wanted all along. His internal goal triumphs, but without his external goal making much of a show in the story, the final decision feels like it was a fixed fight.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
INTO THE WEST: trying to balance internal & external plotlines
Year: 2005
Genre: Western miniseries, made for television
Cast: Matthew Settle, Simon R. Baker, Will Patton, Josh Brolin, Tonantzin Carmelo
Director: Robert Dornhelm
Writer: William Mastrosimone
Into the West: Wheel to the Stars begins the story of Jacob and Loved By the Buffalo, two very different young men whose paths finally intersect at the end of part one (of six). Jacob is the restless dreamer among a Christian family of wheelwrights in the American east. He runs away from home and joins up with Jedediah Smith, a fearless Christian mountain man leading the first American expedition into California.
Meanwhile, Loved By the Buffalo grows up among his Lakota family as a different kind of dreamer: a holy man. The visions he sees are scoffed at, and those among his people who feel threatened by his predictions turn into bitter enemies. As he becomes more and more socially isolated, he begins to doubt his visions and question his sanity.
The two men's stories basically represent two separate plotlines. Jacob's journey is more external and clearly carries the action as he battles hunger, imprisonment, and Indians on his quest deep into the west. His characterization, however heroic, feels a little thin. This is probably because his is a coming-of-age tale plunked down into an action plot, which is a slightly awkward pairing. He doesn't have a specific goal after he joins up with Smith, which happens relatively early in the story, and specific goals are absolutely necessary for an action plot. He winds up having plenty of adventures, but for the most part they are disconnected segments of action strung together on a shoestring of developing maturity. Since his internal development is what connects the plot events, it would have helped to spend a little more time fleshing out his doubts and fears. The time that could have been used to color in Jacob's internal landscape instead goes to Loved By the Buffalo...
Whose plotline in almost totally internal, and thus slides perilously close to boredom. The audience learns a great deal about Lakota spirituality (provided Hollywood is accurate in its portrayal), since that's what nearly every scene with Loved By the Buffalo is about. It's challenging for a writer to translate internal conflicts and doubts into visual symbols the audience (or readers) can hang their emotions onto. Into the West makes a bold attempt to accomplish this by materializing the spiritual realm Loved By the Buffalo is concerned with. A deceased mentor shows up often to counsel him in the physical form of a buffalo or wolf.
I can't help wondering what the viewer response would have been if Jacob's Christianity were visualized in the same fashion. Talking with light beings while crossing the Sierras, like the apostle Paul on his journey to Damascus... or communicating with a bush that's on fire but doesn't burn... or speaking in his native tongue while the listeners hear him in their own different language. All these things are documented in the Bible to have happened to believers. Why would these things seem strange for a Christian to experience in a prime time movie, but not so for practitioners of other religions, spiritual traditions, or ways of life?
Ultimately, Loved By the Buffalo's story would have benefited from an injection of action so the audience could better understand the external repercussions of his internal struggle. Jacob's story faired slightly better, and one may hope the next installment in the series will better balance both plotlines. (Though, I'm not holding my breath waiting for a burning bush.)
Genre: Western miniseries, made for television
Cast: Matthew Settle, Simon R. Baker, Will Patton, Josh Brolin, Tonantzin Carmelo
Director: Robert Dornhelm
Writer: William Mastrosimone
Into the West: Wheel to the Stars begins the story of Jacob and Loved By the Buffalo, two very different young men whose paths finally intersect at the end of part one (of six). Jacob is the restless dreamer among a Christian family of wheelwrights in the American east. He runs away from home and joins up with Jedediah Smith, a fearless Christian mountain man leading the first American expedition into California.
Meanwhile, Loved By the Buffalo grows up among his Lakota family as a different kind of dreamer: a holy man. The visions he sees are scoffed at, and those among his people who feel threatened by his predictions turn into bitter enemies. As he becomes more and more socially isolated, he begins to doubt his visions and question his sanity.
The two men's stories basically represent two separate plotlines. Jacob's journey is more external and clearly carries the action as he battles hunger, imprisonment, and Indians on his quest deep into the west. His characterization, however heroic, feels a little thin. This is probably because his is a coming-of-age tale plunked down into an action plot, which is a slightly awkward pairing. He doesn't have a specific goal after he joins up with Smith, which happens relatively early in the story, and specific goals are absolutely necessary for an action plot. He winds up having plenty of adventures, but for the most part they are disconnected segments of action strung together on a shoestring of developing maturity. Since his internal development is what connects the plot events, it would have helped to spend a little more time fleshing out his doubts and fears. The time that could have been used to color in Jacob's internal landscape instead goes to Loved By the Buffalo...
Whose plotline in almost totally internal, and thus slides perilously close to boredom. The audience learns a great deal about Lakota spirituality (provided Hollywood is accurate in its portrayal), since that's what nearly every scene with Loved By the Buffalo is about. It's challenging for a writer to translate internal conflicts and doubts into visual symbols the audience (or readers) can hang their emotions onto. Into the West makes a bold attempt to accomplish this by materializing the spiritual realm Loved By the Buffalo is concerned with. A deceased mentor shows up often to counsel him in the physical form of a buffalo or wolf.
I can't help wondering what the viewer response would have been if Jacob's Christianity were visualized in the same fashion. Talking with light beings while crossing the Sierras, like the apostle Paul on his journey to Damascus... or communicating with a bush that's on fire but doesn't burn... or speaking in his native tongue while the listeners hear him in their own different language. All these things are documented in the Bible to have happened to believers. Why would these things seem strange for a Christian to experience in a prime time movie, but not so for practitioners of other religions, spiritual traditions, or ways of life?
Ultimately, Loved By the Buffalo's story would have benefited from an injection of action so the audience could better understand the external repercussions of his internal struggle. Jacob's story faired slightly better, and one may hope the next installment in the series will better balance both plotlines. (Though, I'm not holding my breath waiting for a burning bush.)
Monday, June 20, 2005
New Article: Balancing Plot and Character
Writing for the DenverPost.com, novelist and Colorado State University professor David Milofsky facetiously translates euphemisms bandied around by agents/editors. On his list, "plot-driven" equals "superficial" and "character-driven" means "no story." Unfortunately, Professor Milofsky's tongue-in-cheek glossary is an all-too-true commentary on many manuscripts.
An all-or-nothing approach to plot or characterization produces stories either immediately forgettable or popular among a minuscule audience. A writer is only fooling herself, not readers, if she thinks, I'm writing a plot-driven story. I don't have to learn all that complicated character stuff. Or, I'm writing a character-driven story. My fascinating characters shouldn't be bound by an artificial formula...
Continue reading the new article: "Balancing Plot and Character"
An all-or-nothing approach to plot or characterization produces stories either immediately forgettable or popular among a minuscule audience. A writer is only fooling herself, not readers, if she thinks, I'm writing a plot-driven story. I don't have to learn all that complicated character stuff. Or, I'm writing a character-driven story. My fascinating characters shouldn't be bound by an artificial formula...
Continue reading the new article: "Balancing Plot and Character"
Friday, June 17, 2005
THE NAKED SPUR: keeping the antagonist busy
Kemp is the protagonist of this story, and James Stewart portrays him with honor and intensity. But the real star of the show is Robert Ryan's character, Ben.
Because, as someone once said, a story is only as strong as its villain.
Ben is ruthless, cunning, and unprincipled. He has no pride, at least not enough to risk his life for. He has the soul of a psychiatrist, and the heart of a rattlesnake.
But what makes Ben a great villain--besides the fact he's strongly motivated--is he uses every available means at his disposal to defeat the protagonist. When his hands are tied, literally, in Act One, he doesn't give up, cave in, and quit until he gets hold of a gun again in Act Three. He stays busy. He doesn't only look for ways he can personally make trouble for Kemp, such as pitching him off a horse into steep ravine and crippling him. He works to create ways that other characters can make trouble for Kemp, too. Trouble that directly or indirectly still relates to Ben's own goal. For instance, using Lina to bait Roy's lecherous impulses, thus playing Roy and Kemp against each other. By using other characters' goals, motivations, and weaknesses to further his own purposes, Ben expands the conflict throughout Act Two, and in so doing immunizes it against "sagging middle syndrome."
Because, as someone once said, a story is only as strong as its villain.
Ben is ruthless, cunning, and unprincipled. He has no pride, at least not enough to risk his life for. He has the soul of a psychiatrist, and the heart of a rattlesnake.
But what makes Ben a great villain--besides the fact he's strongly motivated--is he uses every available means at his disposal to defeat the protagonist. When his hands are tied, literally, in Act One, he doesn't give up, cave in, and quit until he gets hold of a gun again in Act Three. He stays busy. He doesn't only look for ways he can personally make trouble for Kemp, such as pitching him off a horse into steep ravine and crippling him. He works to create ways that other characters can make trouble for Kemp, too. Trouble that directly or indirectly still relates to Ben's own goal. For instance, using Lina to bait Roy's lecherous impulses, thus playing Roy and Kemp against each other. By using other characters' goals, motivations, and weaknesses to further his own purposes, Ben expands the conflict throughout Act Two, and in so doing immunizes it against "sagging middle syndrome."
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
THE NAKED SPUR: allies and enemies
There are a total of five characters in Naked Spur--
The protagonist, Kemp.
The antagonist, Ben.
The romantic interest, Lina.
Secondary character, Jesse.
Secondary character, Roy.
The relationships between these characters change back and forth during the course of the story. Loyalties are courted and shift. Circumstances force uneasy and temporary alliances. The motives for alliances change. This keeps a relatively stagnant cast of characters dynamic and interesting. This is absolutely vital when the main characters are isolated in a "pressure cooker" situation, like in Naked Spur or 12 Angry Men. But it can layer added depth to any kind of story.
It works this way: the protagonist has a motivated goal. The antagonist has a motivated goal that is in direct opposition to the protagonist's. Right away you have two enemies. Both start the story with allies on their sides. Kemp has Jesse and Roy. Ben has Lina.
This dynamic remains fairly unchanged until the revelation of the bounty on Ben's head inflames Jesse's and Roy's self-interest. When that happens, they become not so much Kemp's allies as their own. They haven't defected to Ben's side, but the development of their self-interest is clearly a victory for the antagonist because it complicates Kemp's goal.
Later, Roy develops immoral designs on Lina. It turns him into Kemp's enemy as far as the romantic subplot is concerned. But he remains Kemp's conditional ally in the main plot. When Indians threaten attack because of Roy's assault upon an Indian girl, he becomes a danger to Kemp in both plot lines, and Kemp tries to get rid of him. But Roy refuses to go.
Jesse's position as Kemp's ally undergoes similar changes. He remains a neutral figure on the romantic journey, but eventually turns into Ben's ally in the main plot.
These ally/enemy positions are fairly clear and forthright. Still, they make the characters' relationships realistically complex and multidimensional. The protagonist doesn't simply trust or distrust the other characters, because then the audience's attention would wane as they took for granted the secondary characters' purposes in the story. Instead, the protagonist simultaneously trusts AND distrusts the other characters on various plot levels--and so the audience stays riveted, watching the scales constantly rise and fall.
One of the more complex examples of this concerns the romantic interest in this story. Lina begins as Ben's fiercest ally, believing in his innocence. But as she comes to understand his enemy (and by extension, her enemy), she develops sympathy for Kemp and eventually falls in love with him. Ben can no longer trust her as an ally because her loyalties are divided: she still wants to help Ben escape, but she refuses to let him hurt Kemp in the process. Naturally, this creates intense internal conflict for her that cannot be sustained long without boiling over into the main plot. Ben plays on her new loyalty to Kemp to trick her into doing his bidding. The disastrous results are the same as if she were still Kemp's enemy, but the emotional payoff for the audience is exponentially bigger.
It's this kind of complexity that can help elevate an essentially simple, straightforward story to the level of a classic.
The protagonist, Kemp.
The antagonist, Ben.
The romantic interest, Lina.
Secondary character, Jesse.
Secondary character, Roy.
The relationships between these characters change back and forth during the course of the story. Loyalties are courted and shift. Circumstances force uneasy and temporary alliances. The motives for alliances change. This keeps a relatively stagnant cast of characters dynamic and interesting. This is absolutely vital when the main characters are isolated in a "pressure cooker" situation, like in Naked Spur or 12 Angry Men. But it can layer added depth to any kind of story.
It works this way: the protagonist has a motivated goal. The antagonist has a motivated goal that is in direct opposition to the protagonist's. Right away you have two enemies. Both start the story with allies on their sides. Kemp has Jesse and Roy. Ben has Lina.
This dynamic remains fairly unchanged until the revelation of the bounty on Ben's head inflames Jesse's and Roy's self-interest. When that happens, they become not so much Kemp's allies as their own. They haven't defected to Ben's side, but the development of their self-interest is clearly a victory for the antagonist because it complicates Kemp's goal.
Later, Roy develops immoral designs on Lina. It turns him into Kemp's enemy as far as the romantic subplot is concerned. But he remains Kemp's conditional ally in the main plot. When Indians threaten attack because of Roy's assault upon an Indian girl, he becomes a danger to Kemp in both plot lines, and Kemp tries to get rid of him. But Roy refuses to go.
Jesse's position as Kemp's ally undergoes similar changes. He remains a neutral figure on the romantic journey, but eventually turns into Ben's ally in the main plot.
These ally/enemy positions are fairly clear and forthright. Still, they make the characters' relationships realistically complex and multidimensional. The protagonist doesn't simply trust or distrust the other characters, because then the audience's attention would wane as they took for granted the secondary characters' purposes in the story. Instead, the protagonist simultaneously trusts AND distrusts the other characters on various plot levels--and so the audience stays riveted, watching the scales constantly rise and fall.
One of the more complex examples of this concerns the romantic interest in this story. Lina begins as Ben's fiercest ally, believing in his innocence. But as she comes to understand his enemy (and by extension, her enemy), she develops sympathy for Kemp and eventually falls in love with him. Ben can no longer trust her as an ally because her loyalties are divided: she still wants to help Ben escape, but she refuses to let him hurt Kemp in the process. Naturally, this creates intense internal conflict for her that cannot be sustained long without boiling over into the main plot. Ben plays on her new loyalty to Kemp to trick her into doing his bidding. The disastrous results are the same as if she were still Kemp's enemy, but the emotional payoff for the audience is exponentially bigger.
It's this kind of complexity that can help elevate an essentially simple, straightforward story to the level of a classic.
Monday, June 13, 2005
THE NAKED SPUR: playing sleight-of-hand with the protagonist's motivation
Year: 1953
Genre: Western
Cast: James Stewart, Janet Leigh, Robert Ryan, Ralph Meeker, & Millard Mitchell
Director: Anthony Mann
Writers: Sam Rolfe & Harold Jack Bloom
Howard Kemp (James Stewart) is on the trail of a man wanted for murder. He's followed Ben (Robert Ryan) all the way from Kansas to the Colorado Rockies. When down-on-his-luck miner Jesse (Ralph Meeker) tips him off to the fresh trail, Kemp hires him to help find Ben's camp in the mountains. Discharged cavalryman Roy throws in with them, much to Kemp's chagrin. When they finally apprehend Roy, they find the daughter (Janet Leigh) of a dead outlaw has thrown in with him.
When Kemp meets Jesse, the miner assumes he's a lawman with altruistic motives for Ben's capture and return. Kemp allows the assumption to ride, even when Jesse talks with Roy about convincing Kemp to deputize them so they can pick up some extra money. It's not until the trio captures Ben they learn Kemp's true motives. Ben knows Kemp is not a lawman at all, but a bounty hunter. Kemp needs the money on Ben's head to buy back the ranch stolen from him by an unfaithful fiancee during the Civil War.
This revelation, along with Ben's capture, turns the story in a new direction. As long as Jesse and Roy believed Kemp was a lawman, it confined their personal stakes in taking Ben back to Kansas. Once they discover Kemp is after the reward--that is, once his real motivation is revealed--their goals change and their personal stakes increase. Now they want equal shares of the reward, and make it impossible for Kemp to prevent their accompanying him, Ben, and the girl.
Delaying the revelation of the protagonist's real need and motive until after the Inciting Incident works because--
1): His presumed motive is strong enough to be credible. Finding a lawman on the trail of a murderer is not unusual in a western story.
2): The writers play fair with the audience by giving them clues all is not quite as it seems. Jesse comments that Kansas is a long way away for a lawman to track a criminal, and Roy is also suspicious.
3): The protagonist contributes to the deception by his silence. It's okay for misunderstandings to get a protagonist into trouble, but not to keep him there or get him out. Kemp takes over the "misunderstanding" by actively adapting it for his own best interest.
4): The protagonist maintains his "likeability" connection with the audience by struggling with the deception. Internal conflict. Despite his need for the misunderstanding, there are some compromises he won't make with his honor. He refuses to lie.
5): The revelation of his real motive changes the dynamics of the protagonist's relationships with the other characters.
6): The revelation kicks the story into high gear by heightening the stakes.
Genre: Western
Cast: James Stewart, Janet Leigh, Robert Ryan, Ralph Meeker, & Millard Mitchell
Director: Anthony Mann
Writers: Sam Rolfe & Harold Jack Bloom
Howard Kemp (James Stewart) is on the trail of a man wanted for murder. He's followed Ben (Robert Ryan) all the way from Kansas to the Colorado Rockies. When down-on-his-luck miner Jesse (Ralph Meeker) tips him off to the fresh trail, Kemp hires him to help find Ben's camp in the mountains. Discharged cavalryman Roy throws in with them, much to Kemp's chagrin. When they finally apprehend Roy, they find the daughter (Janet Leigh) of a dead outlaw has thrown in with him.
When Kemp meets Jesse, the miner assumes he's a lawman with altruistic motives for Ben's capture and return. Kemp allows the assumption to ride, even when Jesse talks with Roy about convincing Kemp to deputize them so they can pick up some extra money. It's not until the trio captures Ben they learn Kemp's true motives. Ben knows Kemp is not a lawman at all, but a bounty hunter. Kemp needs the money on Ben's head to buy back the ranch stolen from him by an unfaithful fiancee during the Civil War.
This revelation, along with Ben's capture, turns the story in a new direction. As long as Jesse and Roy believed Kemp was a lawman, it confined their personal stakes in taking Ben back to Kansas. Once they discover Kemp is after the reward--that is, once his real motivation is revealed--their goals change and their personal stakes increase. Now they want equal shares of the reward, and make it impossible for Kemp to prevent their accompanying him, Ben, and the girl.
Delaying the revelation of the protagonist's real need and motive until after the Inciting Incident works because--
1): His presumed motive is strong enough to be credible. Finding a lawman on the trail of a murderer is not unusual in a western story.
2): The writers play fair with the audience by giving them clues all is not quite as it seems. Jesse comments that Kansas is a long way away for a lawman to track a criminal, and Roy is also suspicious.
3): The protagonist contributes to the deception by his silence. It's okay for misunderstandings to get a protagonist into trouble, but not to keep him there or get him out. Kemp takes over the "misunderstanding" by actively adapting it for his own best interest.
4): The protagonist maintains his "likeability" connection with the audience by struggling with the deception. Internal conflict. Despite his need for the misunderstanding, there are some compromises he won't make with his honor. He refuses to lie.
5): The revelation of his real motive changes the dynamics of the protagonist's relationships with the other characters.
6): The revelation kicks the story into high gear by heightening the stakes.
