Tuesday, March 1, 2011

FORCED DECISIONS and DILEMMAS (and lack of narrative free will)


Throughout this blog, I have made frequent references to characters making choices. At every turning point of your narrative, an obstacle forces characters to choose a new direction of action in order to circumvent the obstacle and continue onward. But the word choose is not entirely accurate. In a well-written cinematic story, these decisions are never much of a choice. In reality, the character has only two options: 1. Escalate the conflict, or 2. Accept failure.

In a well-written cinematic story, there is really no such thing as FREE WILL. Every single thing a character does during his or her pursuit of the Story Goal is not really done by choice -- not done because the character wants to take these actions -- but because the story situation has forced them to. The story situation has painted them into a corner, and the only way out is to take on more risk and more danger with an action they would NEVER take under regular circumstances. The best story actions are those someone would have to be crazy to take if it weren't for the extraordinary forces bearing down on the protagonist. Would a sane person jump off a skyscraper with nothing but a firehose tied around their waist? Of course not. But that is what John McClane is forced to do in Die Hard. Not because he is crazy, but because this has become his only option due to the extraordinary circumstances he finds himself within.

These are called FORCED DECISIONS. Forced decisions are the most common, and often the most effective way to advance a plotline while keeping actions plausible and maintaining character integrity.

To explain:

Human beings naturally seek the path of least resistance. If an easier, simpler, less risky way to do things is known, we will always choose it. This is part of our survival mechanism. Why take a larger risk than we have to? Why expel more energy than needed? If one option has a potential for unnecessary conflict, we will try to avoid it. If something may result in a negative outcome, we avoid that too. That is called common sense.

Since following the path of least resistance is natural human behavior, a character who has the path of least resistance open to him/her and chooses not to take it will not be considered believable. People often mock horror movies where the victim being chased chooses to run up the stairs instead of out the front door to safety. This is because there was an easier, more common sense option open to the character; but instead, the character willingly chose to riskier, more dangerous path. The audience then turns their back on the character for being stupid.

However, here's the thing about the path of least resistence: It makes boring cinema. Nothing could be less exciting than watching people stick to the least risky, most conflict-free options.

Forced decisions help the storyteller reconcile the contradiction between the natural human instinct to avoid conflict (found in believable characters), and the necessity for situations filled with conflict to create an exciting story.

The goal of the writer must be to take away the path of least resistance in order to force the character into riskier choices. If the horror movie victim was being chased by one killer, and a second killer arrives to block the front door, then running up the stairs would become the character's only option. In this case, no one in the audience can say a word to criticize the character's actions.

Quite often, a story requires characters to take risky or dangerous actions simply to move the story to where the writer wishes it to go. Forced decisions are often the only way to make such actions plausible. In Star Wars, when Luke, Obi Wan, and the rest first encounter the Death Star, the story requires them to go onto the Death Star so they might find and rescue Princess Leia. However, only a fool would do this voluntarily. At this point in the story, the heroes have no pressing reason to take on the risk of infiltrating an enemy base. The common sense decision would be to get out of there as fast as possible and alert the Rebel Army. But instead, the story FORCES the heroes onboard when a tractor beam locks onto their ship. They now have no choice but to come on board and find a way out of the corner they have been painted into. Likewise, Back to the Future's Marty McFly does not choose to jump into the time machine and travel back to 1955. It happens as a result of Marty being forced to use the Deloreon to escape from the Libyan terrorists.

Any time a character needs to take action, the storyteller must be constantly aware of all alternative options available to the character. If the storyteller does not realize easier options exist, the audience definitely will, making the audience lose faith in the storyteller's capability. If the protagonist chooses to confront the bad guys in a one-on-one gun battle when he could have simply solved things by calling the police, it creates a LOGICAL HOLE in the story. Logical holes make both you, the storyteller, and your characters look stupid. It becomes hard to keep the audience on your side once this has happened.

To plug potential logical holes, the storyteller should first recognize all available options, and then force the character down the most dramatic road by providing physical evidence as to why the easier paths cannot be followed. If a character does not take a more reasonable option, there should be a good reason why. There must be an obstacle blocking the way, or at least a darn good (and plausible) character reason.

The invention of cellular phones has become somewhat of a bane to screenwriters. Before cell phones became ubiquitous, all a writer needed to do to keep a character in jeopardy was put him or her in a place where the character could not reach a phone to call for help. But now, in the twenty-first century, all someone needs to do to get help is reach into their pocket. Because of this, modern scripts are filled cell phones that get lost, broken, or have dead batteries, as evidence to the audience as to why the character cannot follow the path of least resistance when in danger.

To avoid logical holes, the rule is CYA (“cover your ass”). Look over your script and try to find all the logical actions your character could have taken, but chose not to. Then, make sure you have provided good logical evidence as to why not. There is a lot of CYA going on in Hans Gruber's first sequence in Die Hard. Before the villains even make their presence known, we see them cutting phone lines, shutting down elevators, eliminating security guards, etc. The audience needs to be shown this evidence in order for them to understand that the hero John McClane does not have the traditional methods available for help. He is forced to do something more extreme. If storytellers do their jobs correctly; by forcing characters down paths of action that escalate the conflict (by necessity, not choice), and providing physical evidence along the way as to why these are the characters' only choices; the storyteller will create narratives where, no matter what happens in the story, no matter how crazy or far-flung the premise, all events will appear inevitable and necessary. The path to the climax must seem like the only possible path, thanks to all the obstacles that blocked every alternative.

THE EXCEPTION (but not really)

One caveat must be made. Often, the most dramatic story moment arises when the character DOES have a choice between more than one option. However, this a choice the character does not want, because no matter what the character chooses, it will make the situation worse. This is called the DILEMMA – a forced choice between two or more equally undesirable outcomes. You're damned if you do, and you're damned if you don't. No matter what the hero chooses, he/she loses.

A common (and cliched) example can be found in countless action films. The hero has something the villain wants. The hero must keep this thing out of the villain's hands. But, the villain grabs the hero's friend/lover/child/etc, and puts a gun to their head. The hero is offered a dilemma. Either give the villain what he/she wants, or allow the villain to kill the friend/lover/child. Both options are undesirable. The hero does not want either outcome. But, the hero MUST decide. He/she must pick the lesser of two evils and give the villain what its wants. (Or maybe the hero allows the villain to blow the innocent person's brains out. Wouldn't that be a surprise?)

The dilemma is the worst choice you could ever force upon a character (from the character's perspective, that is). In a regular forced decision, the character still has hope that the risky and undesirable path may still lead to success. With a dilemma, the character knows they are screwed no matter what. Yet still, the choice must be made. It is usually the most important decision the character will make. Everything hinges on this moment. Choose right, and the character may still find a way to overcome the conflict find success. Choose wrong, and the character will doom themselves to utter failure.

The Matrix features a classic dilemma at the end of its second act. Neo and Trinity have just escaped from the matrix, but their mentor Morpheus has been captured by evil agents. They know that, given enough time, the agents will “hack into” Morpheus's brain to retrieve a code that will mean an end to humanity's hopes for freedom. Neo faces a dilemma: he can either let that happen, or he can unplug Morpheus, killing him before he can be cracked. The idea of killing his mentor is unthinkable, but if he does not do it, he will doom them all. Neo and Trinity must choose the lesser of two evils. However, at the last moment, Neo discovers a third option to the dilemma. They could go back into the matrix and rescue Morpheus. This option is no more appealing than the other two. Two fighters against a building full of agents is suicide. And if they can't reach Morpheus before he surrenders the code, it all will be for nothing. All three options are unappealing, yet Neo chooses the third. The rest of the story hinges on whether Neo chose correctly.

Dilemmas over what action to take can make extremely powerful turning points. In addition, a good ethical dilemma can work wonders to communicate character and theme. Captain Miller in Saving Private Ryan faces an ethical dilemma at the story's midpoint when his squad captures a German machine gunner. Most of the squad want to execute the German, but the Corporal considers it murder. It is up to the Captain to decide. Both sides make strong arguments, and no matter what the Captain chooses, he will lose the respect of his men. Captain Miller decides to let the German go, communicating information on his inner character and providing evidence on the story's theme.

Dilemmas are not found in every story. A story can do fine and dandy without one. However, if dilemmas are used, they should be used sparingly. One or two per story is enough, ideally at the end of the second act, or just prior to the climax. Dilemmas are one of the most powerful tools at the storyteller's disposal, so overuse results in overkill. Anything of power loses its ability to shock and surprise if used too much. Save your big bombs for when you need them the most.

CONCLUSION

Dilemmas and forced decisions allow the storyteller to naturally advance the plot while retaining the integrity of the characters. A storyteller naturally wants to put characters into more and more extreme situations as the story advances, but the characters, being sensible people, would rather not put themselves at risk. By creating forced decisions and dilemmas, the storyteller manipulates the character's universe so the character is forced down roads they do not wish to travel, leading them ultimately to the dramatic climax. Looking back, the story's climax should seem necessary and inevitable, since there was never any other option along the way.

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