Category Archives: Craft & Skills

Storytelling Across Platforms

The first stories were told orally, in the light of flickering fires.  Over the centuries, storytelling has continued to evolve into a wide variety of formats.  One of these formats–movies–has been our topic this past month.  Another format will be our focus in August.

Storytellers-both ancient and modern-often act out parts of their stories.  Dramatization evolved into theatrical arts, such as stand-up comedy and plays.  The widespread use of home radio created radio dramas.  The invention of film evolved plays into movies.  The creation of television evolved plays into TV shows.   Or, consider cave paintings.  Sometimes, when viewed in sequence, they depict events, such as hunts.  When images are married to the written word, comic books, manga, and graphic novels are their descendants.

Yet TV didn’t kill plays, and comic books didn’t eliminate novels.  Radio dramas might be rarer today, but audiobooks continue to sell.  All these different forms of storytelling have survived and thrived side by side.  The reason for their proliferation is that different forms of storytelling appeal to different people.

We all have different learning styles:  visual, auditory, tactile, or some mixture of methods.  I have a friend, vision impaired and legally blind, who finds it much easier to enjoy television-listening to the story and watching the screen through a special magnifier-than to read a printed book with his devices.   I have another  friend-a published novelist-who doesn’t read novels for entertainment.  She learned her storytelling skills from movies and television and applied them to the written word.  Personally, I have prosopagnosia-the inability to distinguish between faces-which makes TV and movies challenging for me, since I often struggle to tell the characters apart.  As a result, my novel and comic book library vastly outstrips my DVD library.

Or, sometimes we want a specific experience with our story.  There’s the summer popcorn spectacle of going to see a movie with a group of friends.  There’s the dinner and the theatre date that marks a special occasion.  There’s curling up under the covers with a good book on a stormy winter day.  There’s the sick day spent in a video game marathon.   None of these experiences are the same, but all of them are centered around a story.

The keys to good storytelling are common across all these different forms.  These keys include:  suspense, strong characterization, eliciting emotion from the audience, interesting plots, conflict and resolution, theme, mood, and more.  Techniques vary – for example, in a novel, the author can write out the character’s thoughts, whereas in a movie, the director must choose between using camera work and the actor’s gestures to convey those thoughts, or using a voice-over narration to relate the thoughts to the audience-but story elements remain.  That’s why the lessons we learn from other forms of media can be applied to novel and short story writing.  That’s also why people are hired to write scripts that become movies, TV shows and video games; because you can’t just turn a group of actors and a camera crew loose and expect a coherent story to create itself.

This past month we’ve talked about storytelling lessons we’ve learned from movies.  Next month, we’ll be taking a look at storytelling in one of its newest forms:  games, both video and otherwise.  We’re fortunate to live in an era where we have so many different options for enjoying, and creating, our stories.

Ratatouille – A Recipe for Success

RatatouilleIf you’re going to name a food, you should give it a name that sounds delicious. Ratatouille doesn’t sound delicious. It sounds like “rat” and “patootie”. Rat patootie. Which does not sound delicious. (Linguine talking to Chef Skinner)

Aye, that’s the secret of success for the movie Ratatouille. Something ordinary, something that doesn’t sound delicious is made special, quintessential in fact,  through its treatment. This ordinary dish, with extraordinary treatment saves the day for our heroes. And it is this simple story, with its simple theme and simple circumstance, with attention to detail and character which makes an ordinary tale an extraordinary one.

Dear, sweet, innocent Remy is an ordinary rat with an extraordinary dream and a talent that only he believes in. As many writers and artists know, there’s a little Remy in all of us for coming of age isn’t just about teenagers – it’s about all who struggle to follow their hearts when no one else sees, let alone believes in the dream. This is the life lesson in Ratatouille and it is one which has been told countless times in books and movies but never as poignantly or memorably. Released in 2007, Pixar’s eighth film it grossed $623M, won an Academy Award for Best Animated Feature and garnered other honours.

What makes this movie it so appealing? It is its ability to take the ordinary and make it extraordinary. It does this in terms of craft and emotional appeal. It’s a simple coming of age story told well with setbacks, physically dangerous moments (shotguns, sewer rapids, poison), emotional highs and lows and quintessential characters who aren’t overdone. Take the “bad guy’ Chef Skinner. He’s not an evil monster, just someone who has perverted Chef Gusteau’s dream for his own dreams of wealth. Emotionally, Remy’s passion to cook is something we can all relate to on a very basic level (we all like to eat) unlike fanciful dreams of having super strength, special powers or conquering evil demons. We all aspire to live our simple dreams, to have our talents grow so we can live them fully.

We are told that what seems extraordinary really is ordinary and the dream is within everyone’s reach. This happens when Colette tells Linguine, the garbage boy turned Chef with Remy’s help, that “People think haute cuisine is snooty. So chef must also be snooty. But not so.” She then gives Linguine the sordid bios of everyone cooking in the kitchen.

The movie also gives the option for settling – subverting the dream to do what others find acceptable. When his keen sense of smell saves his father from eating poisoned food, his talent is used sniff-check all food for poison before the pack eats it. Remy is now destined to suppress his desire to become a chef and to do work that benefits the pack. But settling isn’t an option when passions are followed and that’s when break out moments happen and that’s when Pixar plays to our deepest fears of rejection.

Unable to still his passion, Remy finds a piece of cheese and tries to cook it but he’s struck by lightning. Now, he needs some saffron and he knows it’s in the old woman’s house. While there, we learn that he reads and watches TV, something that rats don’t do. When the old woman she sees him, she grabs her shotgun and in the ensuing melee shoots down the roof, revealing the rat colony. In the ensuing escape, Remy is separated from his family. This is the ultimate break out point – alone, separated from his family emotionally and physically by his passion. Yet, this isn’t the only break out moment. The others happen when Remy and later when Linguine risk everything when they reveal themselves and share their secrets. Remy makes himself known in Chef Gusteau’s kitchen and is nearly drowned for it. Linguine reveals that he isn’t a chef, Remy the rat is and he loses his staff. Linguine and Remy reveal themselves to the food critic at the risk of losing all.

And though these trials and tribulations, the recipe for success is given for life and for the artist. When Colette is teaching Linguine about working in the kitchen, she tells him the golden rule: It was Chef Gusteau’s job to have something unexpected in every dish but it is their job to follow the recipe. That is the lesson every writer is told – learn the rules, master them and then only break them when you know what you’re doing and why. Incompetent Linguine can barely follow a recipe and is destined for disaster when Chef Skinner has Linguine cook Chef Gusteau’s worst dish ever. But it’s his mentor, Remy, who has studied food forever, who saves the day by breaking Colette’s golden rule.

Ratatouille is a beautiful movie that appeals to people of all ages, all walks of life and to everyone with a desire to follow a dream. It is a movie where the glamorous is made ordinary (French haute cuisine) and the ordinary is made glamorous (ratatouille, an ordinary stew becomes a signature dish) as the downtrodden (rat and orphan garbage boy) succeed. And it does this with grace, humour and wit without skirting the consequences of the journey.

When we make the ordinary extraordinary we indeed are masters of our craft.

The Hunger Games Dissected

Hunger Games

You may have liked or disliked The Hunger Games, but nobody can dispute that the movie did well in the theaters. Why does it matter? Because we want our stories to sell well, to a wide audience.

Now, you can study the book, look at the plot points, try to understand what made it compelling to readers, but a well-received movie can do almost the same thing in a much shorter amount of time. I didn’t actually watch movies all that much until I went to a David Farland workshop where he sat with us and pointed out the story elements of Hunger Games and why they work for an audience.

Now, before I get into some of those details, a caveat: I am very good at turning off my internal editor when I watch a movie, and as such, I may be the worst person for this post. But because learning to analyze movies in this way has helped me, I felt the need to pass the information along. Some of what you’ll read came from David Farland’s workshop, and some of it is my own opinion. Doesn’t matter. You’ll get the idea.

Inciting Incident: On the Scribe Meets World blog, this is described as, “the event which sparks the fuse of your plot.” I argue that the fuse is lit in the very first scene, when Prim wakes up screaming because she dreamed she was chosen in the Reaping lottery for the Hunger Games. This is where Katniss makes her promise to Prim. “Your name’s only in there once. They’re not going to pick you.” Up until this point, Katniss has cared for her family, but the change, the initial incident, is the fact that Prim is in the lottery for the first year ever.

Takeaway: What good storytellers know, you don’t want to wait too long for this inciting incident to take place, within the first ten minutes for a movie. I’ve heard different numbers for books, but as in The Hunger Games, as soon as possible works best for most audiences.

Turning Point (s)/Try-Fail Cycles: We often think only of the main turning points and  climax, but one of the aspects of Hunger Games that I thought was done exceptionally well, was  weaving the multiple story lines: Katniss’  need of being there for Prim, her desire to be left alone by the government, Gale’s wish that he could lash out at government control, Peeta wanting Katniss to live, for her to care for him, and that he can come away from the whole ordeal unchanged. (You’ll notice we never see him kill anybody, though eventually Katniss does.) Even Cato’s story, as he goes from confident contestant, to charismatic leader, to a broken, bitter boy, is given to us in poignant flashes. “One more kill. It’s the only thing I know how to do…to bring pride to my district. Not that it matters.” (Cato’s last scene)

Much of what kept the audience engaged was the almost continual spike of these multiple stories hitting their own turning points, even to the relationship between the President and the game-maker, shown to us in brief, increasingly-threatening, scenes.

Takeaway: As in movies, writers need to make every scene count; consider every character, their goals, and how those goals fit in with the main story and then weave those elements into alternating peaks of tension so the reader is continually engaged.

Escalate: This brings us to the next point. To fully engage an audience, the conflicts have to escalate throughout the story. As if Katniss’ situation isn’t bad enough, we discover the game controllers are willing to interfere–through mechanical observation, acts of nature, and then manufactured beasts. As they arrive in the city, it seems that Peeta is at an advantage.

Haymitch: “You really want to know how to stay alive? You get people to like you….And right now, sweetheart, you’re not off to a real good start.”

But the paradigm shifts and Katniss becomes the favorite even as we realize Peeta is in love with her. Shortly after she receives the high score from the judges, Peeta reveals his feelings to the world and she accuses him of making her appear weak.

Haymitch: “He made you look desirable, which in your case, can’t hurt, sweetheart.”

Throughout the movie, every success brings another problem, escalating the conflicts. Katniss gets a backpack of supplies, only to get targeted by her  personal nemesis–Clove, the knife-thrower. Winning a bow requires her first act of violence and leaves her hallucinating and vulnerable. The list goes on, and every moment of the movie is turning points and escalations of conflict.

Takeaway: As Brandon Sanderson says, “Escalate, escalate, escalate.”

Resonance: I don’t think I would have caught on to the following examples without David Farland’s workshop. I understood genre resonance, but didn’t get visual resonance until then. He pointed out things like the heart shape on Effie’s lips and visual similarities between her and the Queen of Hearts, giving us an automatic dislike of the woman. The enforcers visual similarity to Star Wars storm troopers gives us that automatic sense of oppression and the presence of a domineering empire. District 12 is Depression-era bordertown, lending the feel of starvation and desperation. Even Katniss’ clean-up in the city increases the Oz feel already rendered by the citizens’ outlandish dress. I have too many of these to list, and we’ve already had a post on resonance, but I never realized before how Hollywood uses visual references between iconic films to influence our perceptions.

Takeaway: As was said by Nancy in her Star Trek post, resonance matters. Finding ways we can make small details,  genre language, and even outside references, familiar and yet new and interesting gives flavor to our stories as much as it lends flavor to a film.

Hunger Games takeaway: Taking the time to dissect popular movies and finding the elements of plot structure and resonance that make it work for the audience is a valuable tool in improving our own work.

 

Pirates of the Caribbean – The Curse of the Black Pearl

Pirates - IMDB imageI love this movie!  What an enjoyable tale.  Of course it’s a pirate movie and, like most people, I like pirate movies.  There’s something that stirs the blood at the mention of pirates, and this one delivers all the tropes we expect in a pirate flick:  tall ships, great battle sequences, swashbuckling heroes, a kidnapped governor’s daughter, and lots of pirate treasure.

But this movie rises above other pirate films for several reasons.  First, I love the fact that the treasure is cursed, and the pirates’ mission is more than just pillage, plunder, and loot.  They are seeking redemption, looking to undo the terrible curse that’s befallen them.  That’s a great twist that deepens the plot tremendously.

More importantly, this movie has something none of the others did:  Captain Jack Sparrow.

This fantastic character, brilliantly played by Johnny Depp, drives the movie into uncharted territory, and rightly earned him many awards.  Captain Jack is not the hero, he’s not the character the story hangs on, and yet he steals center stage in every scene he appears in.  Jack Sparrow is a pirate, but it’s often hard to decide which side he’s on.  He’s crafty, clever, and usually obtains his goals without having to fight, although he’s an accomplished fighter when required.

Jack Sparrow is the spice in the movie that allows the serious, epic tale to contain a solid thread of comedy without becoming silly, but the story could only work if he had straight-men characters like Will Turner to play off of.  As Director Gore Verbinsky stated, “You don’t want just the Jack Sparrow movie.  It’s like having a garlic milkshake.”

In the IMDB Top 100 movie characters of all time, Jack Sparrow is rated 32.

And in EmpireOnline, he’s voted number 8.

Pirates of the Caribbean would not have worked nearly so well without Jack Sparrow, just like Star Wars would not have been so great without Han Solo.

The main swashbuckling hero, the blacksmith Will Turner, is the character we want to succeed, but we’re drawn to Jack Sparrow.  His complexity, his murky agenda, his fresh quirkiness, fascinate us.  He represents the carefree outlaw, epitomizing freedom from responsibility and any constraints.  It’s a powerful draw to audiences looking for escape.  Jack Sparrow can do anything, with no limits, while other characters are constrained by their employment, social status, or lack of confidence.

So, what are some things we can learn from this iconic figure?

First, a healthy dose of humor is possible even in an otherwise serious story, but it needs to be approached carefully and woven in as a secondary thread.

Second, great characters are complex, multi-faceted figures that require planning and care and a dash of brilliance to bring to life.  Without the actor pushing the limits beyond the initial parameters laid out by the writers, Jack Sparrow never would have taken flight like he did.

Third, people are drawn to larger-than-life characters that struggle sometimes to decide their moral code, sometimes falling on the side of good, and sometimes on the side of not-so-good.

Fourth, great characters often don’t choose the easy, expected path.  For example, when Jack duels Will the first time, he refrains from shooting him.  We’re left wondering about the cryptic reference to the bullet, and whether or not he really didn’t want to hurt the dumb kid who got in his way, or if something else is going on.

Take Away:  When crafting your characters, look for figures who can embody more than their limited role originally suggests.  Work hard, with attention to detail, and leave room for flashes of inspiration that can leap from the foundation you’ve laid, and imbue your character with greatness.

What are some other iconic characters you can think of, and what makes them special?

(References from Wikipedia and IMDB)