The first reason for this is that neither of these groups have ever been clearly or conclusively defined. What exactly makes a story “character-driven” rather than “plot-driven”? It is mostly open to subjective interpretation. To what degree is a story driven more or less by its characters to qualify it for one category or the other?
The second flaw comes from the fact that both groups are erroneously named. EVERY cinematic story is driven by plot. And at the same time, EVERY cinematic story is also driven by character. In all but the most experimental of art films there is some sort of plot that drives the story. As long as at some point one event is caused by the actions of a previous event, a plot is at play. Conversely, every film except the most abstract contains characters. It is the characters who perform the actions that create the plot. Plot and character are intertwined. One cannot exist without the other. In every cinematic narrative, both are driving the story.
These two groups can be better defined by looking at their story structures from a different perspective. This approach may seem strange at first glance, but with some thought it reveals itself as simple, logical, and far easier to judge than the old model. To define a story type, look at the script and ask,
Does this story have a god?
Now, I don't mean god in the traditional religious sense. This has nothing to do with any existing theology. It has nothing to do with you, the writer's, personal beliefs nor the personal beliefs of your characters. I mean it purely as a metaphor applied to narrative structure. What type of philosophical structure is at play in your story's universe?
Philosophical thought on human existence breaks down into two broad categories. In one, the theist philosophies, outcomes in life are to some degree decided by forces outside of human control (a benevolent/malevolent god, fate, evil spirits...). In the other, the nontheist human-centric philosophies, humanity is in complete control of its own fate and the individual's success or failure in life is based completely on his/her personal choices and actions.
To put this into screenwriting terms, look at your script and ask, where does the conflict which drives the story come from? Does it originate from sources outside of the protagonist? Or is the conflict created by the protagonist him or herself? We are talking about the MAIN CONFLICT here -- the conflict that kicks in at the inciting incident and disrupts the status quo. Is the protagonist FORCED into action? Or does he/she do it by choice?
It turns out, upon close inspection, that all cinematic stories can be broken down into these groups: Theist or Humanist. Humanity's ultimate philosophical argument continues to be battled out in the ways we tell our stories.
Category #1: YOU ARE A CRUEL GOD!
When people say a script is “plot-driven,” what they really mean is the story is driven by antagonism. Forces outside of the protagonist's control force the protagonist to act. And you, the “storyteller-god”, are the malevolent source of all antagonism.Your story is your own personal universe. You created it. You are its god. Whatever you will to happen, can happen. And your protagonist is forced to deal with it. Most action movies, comedies, and genre films are “theist-driven” films.
However, if you wish to create a dramatic, exciting, emotionally-compelling story, you cannot be a kind god. You must be a CRUEL god. It must be your job to rain down as much trouble, pain, and hardship on your protagonist that your story's universe can allow.
Think of your protagonist as a puny mortal who must be judged. It is your divine duty to test your protagonist's true character with a level of hardship so ridiculous that they must fight, and fight, and fight, until they finally prove themselves worthy of success, happiness, and a happy ending. You are the god of Odysseus, flinging him with wind and waves from one life-threatening situation to another, punishing him for past sins and making him prove himself worthy of returning home. You are the God of Job, smiting him with misery after misery in the ultimate test of Job's true character.
Coincidence seems to play a big part in these types of stories. A lot of things just seem to happen by pure luck. Sometimes good luck, but usually bad. But of course, these aren't really coincidences. They are all orchestrated by the story's creator and backed up in a plausible way so that they happen to intersect the hero's path at the right time and place.
To illustrate, let's take a look at a section of Raiders of the Lost Ark.
Indy's universe has a god. And his god HATES him! Indy's goal is to find and retrieve the Ark of the Covenant before the Nazis do. By the film's midpoint, Indy has managed to overcome the hoards of Nazis, thugs, and sword-wielding Arabs who have been put in his way, and through skill and perseverance he has finally located the Well of Souls, the Ark's keeping place.
So, all Indy and his ally Sallah have to do is go into the Well and get the Ark. Easy, right? NO! The Well just happens to be filled with SNAKES! Thousands and thousands of poisonous snakes – the one thing Indy hates most in the world. Now, the critical viewer has to wonder just how in the world thousands of snakes, from dozens of species from around the world, happen to be living in this sealed-off chamber in the middle of the lifeless desert, with no source of food, and no source of water? This, logically, couldn't be. The only real reason is that Indy's storyteller-god has put them there just to make Indy's life SUCK as much as possible!
Okay, Indy overcomes the chamber of snakes and finds the Ark. All he has to do is get the Ark out and bring it back home. Easy, right? But, who just happens to be waiting outside? The antagonist Belloq and an army of Nazis. We don't really know how they got there. They are just there. Indy's storyteller-god has screwed him again. The Nazis take the Ark, and seal him and Marion inside. Indy must now overcome yet another ridiculously-difficult test of his character. But Indy once again proves his worth and finds a way to escape.
Okay, Indy and Marion are out. They can just steal a plane and escape. Easy, right? Wrong. The biggest, meanest German in the whole camp just happens to see them and starts pummeling the hell out of Indy. And guess who decided to put him there? That's right. Indy's cruel god. But still, the storyteller-god doesn't think this is enough for Indy. So, he makes the pilot of the plane just happen fall dead on the controls, the hatch just happens to trap Marion inside, and the plane's wing just happens to scrape against a fuel truck, spilling an ocean of gasoline that threatens to explode any minute.
Indiana Jones manages to become a heroic character on the level of a modern myth or legend, not simply because he accomplishes his goal, but because he EARNS it by overcoming test after impossible test, proving his place in a pantheon of immortal heroes.
To make this type of story work, the writer must at all times look at their their puny mortal protagonist's situation, see him/her desperately struggling to reach his/her goal, and think, “Okay, my protagonist seems to be having a hard time, *evil laugh* now, how can I make it WORSE?!” Once you have given your protagonist this new challenge, come up with a way for them to prove their worth by overcoming it. But, you can't let your protagonist have any time to rest. They can't get cocky just yet. Even fresher hell needs to be right on their heels. And the next test of character needs to be even more impossible than the last. If your protagonist does not at some point want to look up to the sky and wonder “Why, god, WHY?” you haven't done enough yet!
But, the storyteller-god doesn't always have to be all bad. Every once in a while you can throw your characters a bone. On a number of occasions Indy is trapped in a situation that seems impossible, only to be given a little help. At one point in Cairo, the drunken Indy has been found by the Nazis and taken to Belloq. Surrounded by gun-wielding Arabs, Indy is backed into a corner and about to fight to his death-- only to be saved at the last moment by an mob of children. When Indy is trapped in the Well of the Souls, all seems lost. If the storyteller-god had not chosen to give him a hint by showing the snakes entering through holes in the walls, he would have never escaped.
Thus, here is the role of the writer in these antagonism-driven stories: The writer is a god, always making things harder when they are too easy, and to giving a helping hand when things become too hard.
Category #2: All is Chaos, Hope is an illusion
When one calls a film “character-driven,” that does NOT mean it must have a thin plot, or be filled with dialogue, or as some think of it, a dull film filled with “feelings.” Character-driven means exactly what is sounds like. The actions of the character are what push the film forward. There is no outside force making the character act. The character IS the force that creates change. These films are “Humanist” films.A "god" does not exist in this world. The whole of existence is a single solitary human struggling day in and day out in a cold, uncaring universe of randomness, filled with millions of others humans all desperately fighting to do the same. Nothing is going to step in and help them. If they want success and happiness, they will have to earn it themselves with their blood, sweat, and tears.
I am a great admirer of French author/philosopher Albert Camus. Camus's view of life was, in a nutshell, one of a constant conflict between the natural human desire for order, meaning, and control versus the cruel reality that the world is in fact random, chaotic, and uncontrollabl
e. Human misery comes when a person takes action with an expectation that the world will turn out the way he/she wants it to, only to have that expectation smashed by the true nature of a universe that refuses to conform – or even care about - such hopes and expectations. (Those of you who are familiar with Robert McKee's approach to plotting in his book Story will see some clear parallels.) Camus used the mythical figure of Sisyphus (pictured) as the metaphor of human existence. We are each forced to constantly push ahead against an immense uncaring burden that will never be lifted. Happiness can only be achieved by first recognizing the illusions we have created of our reality, and then working to find some personal freedom and achievement within reality's limits.The protagonists of "humanist" films are Sisyphean ones. Unlike the protagonists of the theist films, who lead fairly "normal" lives until an outside event forces them into action, these characters are unhappy from the start. Their life IS the motivating action. Something is making them unhappy and, one day, they find the motivation to start the long, hard task of pushing their boulder uphill.
In theist films, conflict occurs when the problem attacks the protagonist. In the humanist, the PROTAGONIST attacks the PROBLEM. Furthermore, in films of the former category, conflict comes from forces of antagonism that are actively trying to stop the protagonist (antagonists and the like). In the latter category, the conflict typically comes either from forces who are indifferent about the protagonist's plight (a bank that forecloses on the protagonist's house for lack of payment, a social institution that does not care about poverty or discrimination), OR the protagonist's own erroneous expectations or a lack of understanding about themselves and their world (a father who has grown apart from his daughter due to past failures, a character who can't find true love because he/she is ignorant of the faults that hold them back.)
Theist story types usually lean towards fantasy, adventure, and escapism. Humanist story types seem to mirror daily life with more authenticity, so you will find this type of structure most often in straight drama, biopics, stories that deal with social problems or injustice, naturalistic dramatic comedies such as Sideways, and even rise-and-fall type stories that are driven by the protagonist's ambition, such as Scarface or Wall Street. This type of structure is also often at play in any film that contains troubled protagonists with strong inner conflicts, stories where the source of the protagonist's problems do not come from the outside world, but from their own emotional or social flaws, such as Five Easy Pieces or Taxi Driver.
For a good example, let's look at Erin Brokovich (2000). The title character is down and out from the beginning of the story. She's a single mother of three, has no money, and has just unfairly lost a lawsuit over an auto accident that has left her injured. The world is indifferent and unkind to Erin. Through her own actions, Erin persuades her lawyer to give her a job as a file clerk. The inciting incident occurs when Erin stumbles upon some documents belonging to a corporate negligence case and decides to investigate further. Note that SHE has chosen the conflict. The conflict did not choose her. If she had chosen not to pursue the discrepancies in the case, the status quo of her life would most likely have continued unaffected.
The majority of story developments that follow are solely caused by Erin's voluntary actions, pushing forward against the conflict out of a desire to put wrong things right and create some sort of order in the uncaring universe. Erin encounters all the conflicts that a cold, uncaring universe can give: indifference, greed, corruption, poverty & desperation. The more she tries, the crueler she finds reality to be. Furthermore, her actions create new conflicts at home, as her children and boyfriend become unhappy with the time she spends on the case. She succeeds not through any divine help or coincidence, but by pluck and perseverance, gaining happiness from a small victory in a cold world.
To develop these types of stories, the writer must pay attention to their protagonist's desire and the character's expectations on how to achieve it. Then, constantly look for plausible, logically-valid ways for those expectations to fail. Then, have the protagonist pick up the pieces, get back up, and continue pushing forward in another direction. Or, if your protagonist is the deeply-flawed type who always creates his/her own conflicts by being his/her own worst enemy, constantly think of how the errors in the character's ways of thinking/behaving can keep rising up and destroying attempts at his/her goal.
If coincidence should occur in these stories, if the character should be in the right place at the right time and some benevolent or malevolent force should present them with something of benefit or ill, it may come off as phony and inconsistent. While in theist films this would feel completely plausible, the audience has a hard time accepting coincidence in these types of stories, and can see the the false Hollywood contrivances shining through. For instance, The Pursuit of Happyness (2006) is, for the most part, a humanist narrative, but at a certain point coincidence occurs. Will Smith's character sells portable bone scanners, worth about $300 in the era the film takes place. While running from an unpaid cab fare, Smith loses the scanner at the subway. A crazy homeless man whom Smith encountered in the movie's setup just happens to be there and takes it. Later in the film, at a point when Smith is the most hard-up for money, he happens to encounter the homeless man again and takes the scanner back. This coincidence becomes a weak spot of plausibility in an otherwise realist non-theist film. It is as if the film's god suddenly appears from nowhere to lend a hand.
Humanist-structured films are harder to pull off than theist-films. They demand a lot more out of both writer and audience, which is one reason they are rarely as commercially successful as films of the theist category. One could even argue that theist-structured films are so enjoyable because they give the illusion of an ordered, controlled universe we all desire; rather than revealing something closer to reality, as the humanist films do. However, when done well, humanist films have the potential to be masterpieces. They touch far closer to the audience's daily lives and experiences, allowing more emotional resonance and the ability to speak far more truth than a hundred Indiana Joneses.
