Even in serial movies (The Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, The Matrix) where the central story question isn’t settled until the last installment, each separate episode still requires the resolution of its own main issue.
So conceive your conflict with a finish line built in.
By the end of Ray, singer Ray Charles will either overcome his addiction to heroin or he won’t.
By the end of Working Girl, Tess McGill will either triumph over her evil boss and close her big business deal or she won’t.
By the end of Fargo, Police Chief Marge Gunderson (Frances McDormand) will either nail the kidnappers or she won’t.
A lack of resolution in screen stories leaves audiences emotionally unfulfilled. For true-life biographical films especially, this can present a problem unless the real person died dramatically or reached some other moment of resolution in their life.
Chaplin recounts the life and loves of one of the world’s most famous comic filmmakers, Charlie Chaplin (Robert Downey, Jr.). But commercially this picture did not do well, and I believe it’s because the story is episodic without reaching any larger resolution.
Chaplin follows Charlie’s quick rise to fame, riches, and creative control over all his films. The movie also dramatizes his many affairs with much younger women. An eventful, incredibly successful life is portrayed. But where’s the story and theme resolution?
The concept holding Chaplin together involves an interview with Charlie’s biographer (Anthony Hopkins) that’s conducted at Chaplin’s palatial estate in Switzerland during the twilight of the comic’s years. As questions are asked by the biographer, the movie flows back and forth in time to various episodes in Chaplin’s life.
At the end, the question finally comes up about what the comic star thinks his life has all meant.
Chaplin shrugs and says — I just cheered people up.
Any deeper point of the picture remains unknown. So the theme of Chaplin can only be: it’s nice when you’re born gloriously talented and then get filthy rich.
Compare this to biographical movies that do mean something like Braveheart or Gandhi, both of which did very well at the box office. The heroes of these films sacrifice their lives at the end for a greater human good. Historically accurate, they also present important themes through powerful story resolutions. And audiences flocked to see them.
Episodes in a life do not by themselves constitute a convincing conflict without some meaningful resolution.
SUMMING UP
• Conflict is the heart and soul of all screenwriting.
• Conflict develops from three story sources:
1. The power of the adversary — he should appear unbeatable;
2. How greatly the hero desires to achieve her goal — she should want victory more than anything;
3. How high the stakes are — stakes need to be physical or metaphorical life or death.
• In most good movies there are two levels of conflict that play out simultaneously:
1. A clash in the physical world as a hero struggles against the adversary in ways that can be seen;
2. Conflict inside the hero where she is forced to overcome some limiting emotional problem that’s stopping her from resolving the physical conflict.
• To solve the external physical conflict a hero must first resolve the emotional struggle within.
• The basic elements required to make dramatic conflict effective on the screen are:
1. The conflict must be strong;
2. The conflict must be seen;
3. The conflict must get nasty;
4. The conflict must develop, grow, and become ever more challenging to the hero;
5. The conflict must surprise the audience;
6. The conflict must be believable;
7. The conflict must be resolved in a meaningful way.
EXERCISE:
Make up three heroes, and give each a life pursuit. Examples:
1. Mack Henry — Big-rig trucker.
2. Gina Ferguson — Reality TV producer.
3. Ron Bishop — Corporate research & development scientist.
Give each hero a goal that is very important to them. Let’s say:
1. Mack wants to haul his last load before retiring.
2. Gina wants to make a film about an unjustly imprisoned man in Brazil.
3. Ron wants to present his research on a new food product.
Next, for each hero invent an adversary to oppose them. Something like:
1. For Mack: Jessie, a ride-along pal, wants to convince Mack not to retire.
2. For Gina: Torvold, her egomaniac director who opposes Gina’s every wish.
3. For Ron: Jill, a lab tech, who demands undeserved cocredit for Ron’s research.
Now, closely analyze the POWER that each adversary holds over the hero.
1. What power does Jessie hold over Mack? (None — Jessie’s just a loudmouth)
2. What power does Torvold hold over Gina? (None — Gina can fire Torvold)
3. What power does Jill hold over Ron? (None — Ron can fire Jill)
If needed, keep inventing new adversaries for each hero until they fulfill all requirements of an effective opposing force character. Keep testing the situational POWER that each new possible adversary holds over the hero — until you end up with something along these lines:
1. For Mac: Albert, who kidnaps Mack’s wife and forces Mack to haul cocaine.
2. For Gina: Prison Warden Degron, who schemes to keep the innocent man jailed in order to exploit this prisoner’s computer skills.
3. For Ron: Alice, the company CEO, who orders Ron “disappeared” when Ron discovers dangerous toxins in the new food product.
Don’t stop trying out new adversaries until the power ratio with the hero looks like this:
1. What power does Hector hold over Mack? (Total power)
2. What power does Warden Degron hold over Gina? (Total power)
3. What power does Alice hold over Ron? (Total power)
Keep testing and honing each adversary until they become believably unbeatable. With each new adversary you try out, the nature of the stories will change. Stay open to that change — and you will ultimately create several strong movie story possibilities.
part two Creating Your Characters
chapter five
ELEMENTS OF
CHARACTER
In order to take a hero through the 23 Hero Goal Sequences®, you must first know how all the other characters in your screenplay will function to serve that hero on