It all begins with Story

I don’t want to film a “slice of life” because people can get that at home, in the street, or even in front of the movie theatre. They don’t have to pay money to see a slice of life. And I avoid out-and-out fantasy because people should be able to identify with the characters.

Making a film means, first of all, to tell a story. That story can be an improbable one, but it should never be boring. It must be dramatic and human. What is drama, after all, but life with the dull parts cut out? — Alfred Hitchcock, Director

 THE ELEMENTS OF A GOOD STORY
Dividing film into its various parts for analysis is artificial for the elements of any art form never exist in isolation. It is impossible, for example, to separate plot from character. Events influence people and people influence events; the two are always intertwined in any fictional, dramatic or cinematic work.

However, in film analysis you look at different parts as separate things to make it convenient to study them. But, don’t forget a film’s success depends on all its components fitting together with creative precision to make the finished work greater than the sum of its parts.

It won’t matter if a director has the best script ever written, if the actors do a lousy job of interpreting their lines. It won’t matter if a producer can afford the best actors in Hollywood if the script they must follow is poorly written.

And even with a great script and talent, a film won’t be good if the director does a poor job of shooting the scenes or the cinematographer doesn’t match the lighting design to the mood of the film.

But without a good story, the rest of the talent working on a film is wasting their time and creative energy. An effective script is first, last and everything in the process of making a movie that will please an audience.

So, you ask, “what makes a good story?”

 A GOOD STORY IS UNIFIED IN PLOT:
The structured film has some broad underlying reason or is unified around a central theme. Regardless of the nature of the theme — plot, emotional effect, character, style or texture, or idea — a fictional film generally has a story line that contributes to the development of the theme.

A unified story concentrates on a single thread of action where one event leads to another naturally and logically. Usually a strong cause-and-effect connection ties these events together and the outcome seems to be, if not inevitable, at least probable.

In a good plot, nothing can be changed or removed without significantly affecting or altering the entire project.

Think what would happen, for example, if we chopped the shower scene from Hitchcock’s suspense masterpiece “Psycho.” Without the murder of Janet Leigh, the whole movie wouldn’t make any sense.

A good way to get a sense of whether a specific scene, bit of action or character is a vital part of a well-designed plot is to imagine the movie without it. If the story would still make sense and be just as emotionally or intellectually satisfying, then you have probably discovered an element that should be have discarded to strengthen the story line. A good plot does not introduce out of nowhere some kind of chance, coincidental or miraculous event, or some superhuman force that swoops down to save the day.

Consider, for example, a scene from a western. Outlaws attack a wagon train. Luckily, a cavalry troop just happens to be camped on the other side of the hills, hears the shooting, and saves the travelers.

Now it is true that coincidences happen in real life, but in fiction we spot them as the work of a lazy writer who can’t come up with a clever or creative way to get his characters out of a threatening situation.

If the writer had given us a good reason earlier in the movie for the cavalry to be close at hand during the attack on the wagon train, such as trying to track down the outlaws, we would be more inclined to accept the coincidence.

Although plot unity is a general requirement, there are exceptions. In a film whose focus is to create a portrait of a unique character, clear-cut connections between events in the movie are not that important. In fact, such plots may be made up of past and present events in the character’s life that seem to have no direct relationship to each other.

An excellent example of this type of structure is found in “The Pawnbroker,” a film about a former Nazi death camp prisoner struggling to survive as the owner of a pawnshop in New York City.

Memories of the concentration camps are his constant companions as seen in rapid-fire flashbacks which are confusing interruptions in the story line until the climax of the movie shows why he is so troubled by his past.

A GOOD STORY IS BELIEVABLE:
For us to be fully involved in a movie, we must believe its true. A film can create “truth in a number of ways.

1. Externally Observable Truths: “The ways things really are.” The most obvious and common kind of truth in a movie reflects life the way we know it. This kind of truth is based on evidence from the world around us.

For example, we accept the basic truth found in such movies as “Rocky,” “Lethal Weapon,” “Grapes of Wrath,” “The Godfather,” “Rain Man,” “The Untouchables,” “The Passion of Christ,” “Fried Green Tomatoes,” or “Captain America: The First Avenger” because they mirror, in some way, our own experiences, our knowledge of the way things are, or how human beings behave.

2. Internal Truths of Human Nature: “The way things are supposed to be.” Another type of movie seems true or “real” because we want to or need to believe in what we are watching. Some of the greatest screen classics don’t even pretend to reflect the reality of life outside the movie theatre. Instead, they offer us a fairy-tale or happily-ever-after ending. The good guys always win and true love triumphs.

However, these movies are believable because they contain “internal truths;” beliefs in things we can’t see but that seem true because we want or need them to be. The notion that virtue will be rewarded and that evil punished is a timeless example of such a truth that can be found in thousands of fairy tales, folk legends, classic myths and, of course, contemporary plays, novels, TV shows and films.

A movie such as “Spiderman” could not happen in real life. A teenager would never get a spider bite that gives him super-human powers to fight evil. However, we are willing to suspend our sense of “disbelief” because the hero and his villains represent the “truth” of the eventual triumph of good over evil.

3. Artistic Truth: “The way things never were and never will be.”Filmmakers can create a special kind of truth that can only exist because of the magic of movies. Using special effects, editing tricks, and miniatures, Hollywood can create imaginary worlds that only exist on the screen, but while we watch we believe everything we see.

In such films (“Star Wars,” “The Matrix,” “Harry Potter,” “Alien,” “Batman,” “Superman,” “Indiana Jones,” “King Kong,” “The Wizard of Oz,” “E.T.”) truth depends on the film maker’s ability to convince us that what we are seeing and hearing is so real that we get caught up in the cinematic fantasy and no longer ask if what we are experiencing could actually happen.

If the fictional reality is successfully established and we are willing to suspend our sense of disbelief, we will come to believe that in such a situation almost anything is possible. By communicating this real sense of an unusual situation or environment, the film creates a new set of rules by which we judge the “truth” of the movie’s reality.

 A GOOD STORY IS INTERESTING:
A vitally important requirement of any movie that hopes to be a box office success is that it captures and holds our interest till the end. A script can be interesting in many ways. Few stories have equal appeal to all audiences, for whether or not a story is interesting is a personal judgement based on what we like or dislike in our cinematic entertainment.

However, regardless of what we expect from movies — whether it is to be entertained or informed — we never go to the movies expecting to be bored. Our tolerance for boredom is extremely limited especially in this age of remote controlled television, which gives us the freedom to instantly switch channels at the first hint of boredom.

While we will tolerate a movie that shocks, frustrates, puzzles or even offends, we will totally reject one that bores us with predictable plot or characters. We expect a film to give us a heightened sense of reality by doing away with the routine details of living. Why should we waste our time or money on the dull, monotonous, or the ordinary when our own lives provide plenty of these experiences for free?

Even those films which are based on a sense of everyday reality (“The Godfather,” “Matchstick Men,” “Boogie Nights“) create a fantasy version of real life by only presenting those moments that are dramatically interesting; the daily routine of the characters in such movies is left out so we are kept involved and interested in what will happen next.

Filmmakers use suspense and action to keep us interested. Most plots, regardless of what the story is about, are designed to make us want to know what will happen next; to care enough to be curious about how the story will turn out. Without this mystery or suspense, a story will leave us asking “who cares what happens?”

Besides arousing our curiosity, a good story also must contain action in the sense that change must occur from the beginning to the end. Action is not limited to physical activity such as fights, chases, and battles. Action may be internal, psychological or emotional.

In films like “Star Wars” or “Thor,” the action is external and physical; in “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” or “Inside John Malkovitch”, the action is in the minds and emotions of the characters.

Both types of plots have movement and change. The interest created by the exciting action in “The Punisher” is obvious and needs no analysis. However, the action in the mind and imagination of a human being is subtler. Nothing very extraordinary happens in “Punch Drunk Love,” but what takes place in the heart and mind of Adam Sandler is extremely interesting and exciting.

 A GOOD STORY IS BOTH SIMPLE AND COMPLEX:
A good script must be simple enough so that it can be communicated in about two hours. The idea that a short story should be capable of being read and enjoyed in a single sitting applies to a film.

Experiencing a film is less tiring than reading a book, but only the greatest films keep us from becoming restless if they are longer than about two hours. Thus, a movie’s theme must be compressed into a dramatic structure that can be told in 120 minutes.

In most cases, a limited, simple theme such as that in “Jurassic Park,” which focuses on the threat to a small group of people, is better suited for a movie than a story which spans centuries or presents thousands of characters. While the Bible is a magnificent book, it would be impossible to make it into a two hour movie and still be faithful to the depth and breadth of the Old and New Testaments.

However, within the limits of good story telling, an effective script must also have some complexity, at least enough to keep us interested. Although a good story may have a predictable ending, it must also present enough surprises along the way so we forget that we already how it will turn out.

A successful film must walk a fine line between simplicity and complexity. Some ideas must be presented in a straightforward fashion or we will get confused and frustrated. But, at the same time, other ideas or concepts should be more challenging to keep us from getting bored.

 A GOOD FILM USES RESTRAINT IN HANDLING EMOTIONAL MATERIAL:
A strong emotional element is found in almost every movie without which we wouldn’t respond to the characters or the situation. Filmmakers are masters at manipulating our emotions, but their attempts must be honest and appropriate to the story.

Usually, we will reject as sentimental or silly, those movies, which overuse emotional effects. Often we will laugh when we’re supposed to cry if the filmmaker doesn’t know how to restrain the level of emotion built into the film.

A well-designed emotional experience in a film presents a broad range of psychological stimulation that engages our entire spectrum of mental responses. Some scripts, such as “Saw,” or “Alien vs. Predator,” contain only elements that are designed to shock or frighten us. After awhile, this one-note approach gets predictably boring.

By comparison, in “Jaws” (which is also a “monster” picture), the emotional tone shifts from comedy, to terror, to love, to suspense, to shock. Perhaps this is why Spielberg’s film became a run-away box office blockbuster that attracted a broader audience than just thrill-seeking teenagers who are usually the major ticket-buyers for horror films.

This entry was posted in Papers. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a comment