Thoughts on characters as people

The following quote was posted on a local film networking site recently that had me thinking:
 

‎"Characters in scripts are people...not artifacts to be shuffled and manipulated like cards in a magic trick, to suit the contrivances of plot. I think that if filmmakers could approach characters more as if they were people, we'd have much better movies." 

~ Judith Weston, The Film Director's Intuition

It is a timely reminder as the discussion continues to rage over character motivation and actions in Prometheus. Yet there is an aspect that troubles me a little.

Simply this, characters aren’t people. I know this as a screenwriter because of this one essential truth – I DO manipulate them from above, God-like in what is known as the holy grail of screenwriting – STRUCTURE.

The moment you use words like “inciting incident”, “turning point”, “midpoint”, “reversal”, any screenwriting term, you are imposing your will on a character. Whether you use the three act structure, the Hero’s Journey, or any other structural template. Characters obey the rules of good storytelling craft; people do not.

That’s even before we discuss the requirements and expectations of genre and yes, the needs of the plot.

I’ve heard writers talk about characters not knowing that they’re in a movie or television show, not knowing that there is an audience. Then in the next breath tell me that a character has to do something interesting right before the first ad break so that the audience stays tuned in… huh? And my personal favourite – the script “that writes itself” where the writer supposedly lets the characters do as they will.

Well, firstly, scripts don’t write themselves, especially not feature screenplays. They are agonisingly hard to get right at the best of times and require more than their fair share of blood, sweat, tears, prescription medication, therapy, a healthy bar tab, an unhealthy level of bloody-mindedness and a singular focus on the task at hand.

Secondly, I simply don’t believe the mantra “I let the characters do what they want” – that leads to a three hour masterpiece (probably in French with subtitles) about a teenager deciding whether to get out of bed or not. People can be irrational, inconsistent, lazy, passive, unmotivated, goalless and maddeningly stupid. Characters can be all those things until they are propelled on a journey of some description with clear goals and stakes and forces of antagonism. That journey invariably has a shape and the characters an arc where they grow and learn some essential truth about themselves. Some people never learn (yes, you know exactly the sort of person I mean).

Sure, I absolutely agree that characters should act consistently based on the strengths, weakness, flaws, wants, needs and goals established within the context of the situation the writer puts them in. But if a character is left to his/her own devices I fear there would be a lot of “refusals of the call” because it’s rare that people are truly heroic. And isn’t that why we go to the movies? To see characters larger than ourselves do “heroic deeds” (however defined) that we can only dream of?

Aaron Sorkin was asked in an excellent article published in “On Writing” (February 2003, Volume #18) if one of his characters in The West Wing would “…react to a situation differently than [President] Bartlet?” This is his answer which I find most instructive: 

Possibly. But only when I want her to. When it suits my purposes. If I want to tell a story about a woman reacting to the severe oppression of women in a certain Middle Eastern dictatorship, then I’m purposefully having C.J. react differently than Bartlet would. But if I wasn’t interested in telling that story and I was interested in telling a different story about women in the Middle East, I would have no problem having C.J. and Bartlet react the exact same way. In other words, I don’t sit there and think, oh shit, C.J. wouldn’t do this. C.J. would do whatever I make C.J. do. Don Scardino directed A Few Good Men on Broadway, and there was this moment during rehearsal one time when an actor came up to him and said, “I don’t think my character would do this.” And he just said, “I think you’re playing the wrong character.” Of course he would do it—it’s right there in the script.

So what do you think? Character above all else and treated as people or a happy balance between character and structure? Thoughts? Rebuttals? Would love to hear people’s opinions…

A Paranoia of Screenwriters

I don't know if there is a collective noun for a group of screenwriters but if there isn't can I proffer 'A Paranoia of Screenwriters'?

Because (as every right thinking, decent, hard-working screenwriter knows) everybody is out to steal their ideas, screw them Toby Ziegler style with their pants on, and generally suck on the marrow of their creative genius like some vampiric nemesis writ large.

Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating... a little. I have come across those people and I am sure you have too. You just roll your eyes and head straight for the free wine.

So it was refreshing for two days to a) be in the presence of the redoubtable Simon van der Borgh who conducted his Genre Workshop in typical entertaining style and b) hear approximately 20 feature stories ideas as a result of Simon's devilishly simple writing exercises.

To those of you mailing copies of your scripts to yourself by registered post, yes I was recording every pitch on the iPhone 4 I don't have and I've been busily transcribing your genius as we, um, 'speak'.

Seriously though, I LOVE these sorts of workshops precisely because they are all about stories and creativity. Spending a couple of days discussing the history of genre, genre types and conventions, audience expectations, referencing films and watching clips, discussing character and story rather than templates. All brilliant stuff. And highly interactive.

It's always interesting listening to other people's story ideas and we had a wide range from horror, to supernatural, to a rom-com, action-adventures, family dramas, social justice, epic fantasy... and my little science fiction horror. You also get the benefit of feedback and thoughts from Simon and your screenwriting brethren which helps gauge if the story has potential.

Plus one key message that emerged from the workshop - the consistency of TONE. The knock on a lot of Australian films being that because they don't know what genre they want to be their tone is all over the place which alienates audiences as expectations are not met.

So thank you to Simon and kudos to all the talent in the room who contributed to making it an enjoyable and productive couple of days. Let's see how many of these ideas make it to the page and hopefully further...

Just don't tell anybody a group of screenwriters gathered together in the one place and freely gave of their time and ideas... we have a reputation to uphold!

The Horror, The Horror

Having watched a few horror movie/ghost stories over the last couple of weeks - for research purposes - it appears there are some unusual recurring themes:

1) Every child in America under the age of 12 can see dead people.

I mean, who knew? Has there been research conducted into this phenomenon given its prevalence? Can I get funding for such a study? Do the ghosts have their own think tank happening to counter this?

Damn Harry, if only that bratty six year old couldn't see us, we'd be scaring the bejesus out of the entire neighbourhood.

I'm working on it, Mildred. The kid's got some sort of supernatural x-ray vision thing that's foolproof.

Thank goodness the parents are as thick as two planks and have no idea of our existence.

Don't get complacent, dear. It always wears off in the Third Act.

Bugger!

2) When a child becomes a ghost it MUST have long black, seaweed like hair that covers its ENTIRE face.

Clearly, all hairdressers go to heaven when they die. Let's face it, the dripping wet, seaweed chic hairstyle is getting kind of old. Someone down in the fiery bowels must have at least done a TAFE course, no? It's not like they'd be short of hot air to do a little styling between hauntings.

3) Revenge is a dish best served... with dollops of confusion and lashings of misdirection.

Okay, so I find myself a ghost having been tragically ripped from my mortal life by some heinous act. What to do about the perpetrators of my violent demise? Find some innocent and confuse the shit out of them, of course! By presenting cryptic clues, hostile gestures, physical torment and general mayhem. Why I would do this when I am fully capable of taking care of business myself as demonstrated by said supernatural abilities is beyond me.

Take Gothika for example. The female ghost (disconcertingly BLONDE which was the biggest twist in the whole film) possesses Halle Berry (and who hasn't wanted to do that at some stage?) - who is innocent - so she can butcher her husband - who is decidedly not - and scrawl a cryptic message in blood on the wall that ultimately hints at a co-conspirator. Poor traumatised Halle eventually kills the second baddie after being locked up in her own mental institution, cut 30 something times by said ghost and generally had the shit kicked out of her. Oh, and she found another girl trapped in her husband's downstairs fun house.

My question is this? Why didn't said spook kill said bad guys itself and write Halle a polite note that was a bit more helpful re the trapped girl? If it had to be in blood so be it. But really, don't they have career counselling in Hell for vengeful spirits about how to gain a little closure?

4) The three scariest things in the entire universe are:

i) A telephone ringing - I suspect this is because people fear it could be the ghost of a long dead telemarketer ringing to see if you'd like to change your telephone service provider.

ii) A precocious child - because this clearly is a sign they have been possessed by Satan and are going to paint the rumpus room with your gizzards.

iii) Renee Zellweger in a horror film.

So I'm thinking I need to write a ghost story about a kid around the age of 12 who is bullied and ostracised by all the other kids because he CAN'T see ghosts... and when he eventually does, the ghost turns out to be Renee Zellweger - with a crew cut - who was killed in a freak telemarketing accident and uses a powerpoint presentation and flowcharts to explain that said kid's father, the CEO of the off-shore telemarketing company - who was once a precocious child - is still possessed by Satan and manufactured the whole thing.

That would work, wouldn't it...?