(If you're reading this part first, you're doing it backwards! Click HERE for Part 1.
Otherwise, on to Part 2!)
2. The story must have a SPINE.
The
Story Spine is one big secret I reveal in Screenwriting Down to the Atoms.
The Story Spine is not a recent invention. It is not some trick or
tool like a “beat sheet” formulated as a cheap and lazy shortcut.
The Story Spine is something that has been present in all good
storytelling since the beginning of time. Whether it be by instinct
or trial and error, great storytellers have always realized that
certain fundamental components must be contained in a story if the
audience is to care about it and stick with it to the end.
The Story Spine is the basic structure of all storytelling, whether
that story be in the form of a film, a novel, a folktale, an
anecdote, or even a dirty joke. It fulfills the four qualifications
of a story in a manner that gives the narrative focus, direction, and
drive. It is the lifeblood of drama. Without a Spine, a story will
fail to come together in anything but the weakest, most ineffectual
way. But sadly, no “gurus” teach this concept. Few developing
writers understand the Story Spine or even know of its existence.
This is unfortunate, since an overwhelming majority of the flawed
screenplays I have ever read can trace their most glaring problems
back to a simple ignorance of the Story Spine.
The Story Spine is a five-component structure that can be visualized
as so:
The Spine's five components are:
A.
The protagonist’s STORY
PROBLEM.
This problem is what incites the protagonist to act and originates
the story premise. This starts the story journey.
B.
The protagonist’s STORY
GOAL.
The protagonist chooses this goal out the the belief that reaching the goal
will solve the Story Problem and resolve the situation. Reaching it
will end the story journey.
C.
The protagonist’s PATH
OF ACTION.
This path is composed of all actions the protagonist takes in his or
her efforts to get to the Story Goal. This makes up the bulk of the
story action.
D.
The MAIN STORY
CONFLICT.
This is a force that resists the protagonist's efforts to reach the
Story Goal.
E.
The MAIN STORY
STAKES.
This is a counter-force that compels the protagonist onward, despite
the Main Conflict’s resistance.
All
five components must be present for the Story Spine to exist. If any
component is missing, the Spine will not function, just as an engine
will not function if one of its vital components were removed. This
matter deserves further explanation, but rather than take up space
here, I invite you to read the original article I wrote on the subject
back in 2009. It behooves you to take time to learn this. If a writer
should know only one thing about storytelling, it should be this.
3. Longer stories require some form of ADDITIONAL STRUCTURE
Very short forms of story, such as anecdotes and folktales, need only
a simple Story Spine to function. The main character encounters a
problem, takes a single set of actions towards a goal, and then
either reaches that goal or meets failure. The telling of these
stories take no longer than a few minutes. However, as storytellers
move on to longer story forms; such as novels, stageplays, or
feature films; they must deal with the issue of the audience’s
attention span. Even when strongly engaged, attentions will wane with
time. Often, this time frame is as short as five to ten minutes.
Unless the storyteller finds a way to continually renew attention, he
or she will not be able to retain the audience’s interest until the
story's end.
Take another look at the Story Spine diagram and notice
that the Path of Action takes up the majority of any narrative. While
an anecdote or folktale's Path of Action can be kept simple since it
lasts only a few minutes, a novel or feature film's Path may need to
stretch on for hours without end. How then does the storyteller keep
an easily-distracted audience engaged and attentive over such a long
period of time? The answer to create structure within the existing
story structure.
Long narratives must be broken up into STORY SEQUENCES. Story
sequences can be thought of as sub-narratives that directly relate to
and develop the main Story Spine. In them, the character deals with
some smaller issue directly related to the Main Story Problem. If the
character successfully manages this smaller yet related issue, he or
she moves one step closer to reaching the Main Story Goal. In other
words, the protagonist handles the story's narrative issues in pieces;
like a long journey taken one “leg” at a time. Rather than asking
the audience to swallow the entire long-form narrative as a whole,
story sequences deliver it to them in one short yet interesting
sub-story at a time, managing the limits of human memory and
attention while keeping them engaged in the over-arching narrative.
The story is not a marathon, but a series of sprints.
Novels and stageplays have obvious methods to break up their
narratives for easier ingestion. Novels have chapters that suggest
points where readers can start and stop. Plays close the curtain at
the end of each act or scene. However, since the action of a feature
film is continuous and expected to be enjoyed in one sitting, its
demarcations between sequences can seem invisible without a trained
eye. But whether you are currently able to notice them or not, trust
me, this structure exists in every competent film ever made. The
average feature film consists of nine to fourteen story sequences,
each running a consistent pace of eight to twelve minutes apiece
(though I have seen films with a pace as short as six minutes or as
long as sixteen). Each sequence focuses character action upon a
single, smaller objective that manages to advance the story situation
and move the protagonist closer to his or her Main Story Goal. Story
sequences are brought to an end with events known as TURNING
POINTS. As the name suggests, turning points literally turn the
course of the story in a new direction by providing some occurrence
that brings the action of the current sequence to an end and launches
the action of the next. Turning points are also essential for things such as development, momentum, and
escalation. Once again, this is a topic that requires more
explanation than can be provided here. For more, you may check out
this previous article or this one,
or even better, Chapter 5 of Screenwriting Down to the Atoms.
Why is sequence structure an absolute of cinematic storytelling? Read
some amateur screenplays that do not contain this structure and you
will see why. So many aspiring screenwriters struggle, falter, and
fail between inciting incident and climax because they do not know
how to sustain narrative momentum or provide the proper development and
escalation that comes naturally with sequence structure. These long,
structureless scripts then become lost, confused, lethargic, chaotic,
or simply boring as hell. Like the Story Spine, sequence structure is
a fundamental of good cinematic storytelling which most "gurus" never teach and many wannabes
fail to learn. Why? Because most “gurus” have the nasty habit of
skipping over structural Level #1 and #2, and blindly leaping
straight to Level #3. Gurus love Level #3. But it is not exactly the
magic pill some make it out to be. Of course, by "Level 3," I am talking about the
beloved 3-Act Structure.
What about 3-Act Structure?
Contrary to what some teach, the 3-Act Structure is not a method of
story creation. Nor is it the primary level of cinematic story
structure. If anything, it is the tertiary level – that is, the
third level (“tertiary” is just more fun word to say). There
is a certain folly to the fact that 3-Act Structure is what most
beginning writers are first taught. Equally foolish is how many begin
a new screenplay by focusing upon it. As the tertiary level of
narrative structure, this is like constructing a building by
starting with the third floor.
The
3-Act model is nothing more than a specialization
of the sequence structure, specifically adapted to the feature-length
narrative film. Its discovery came about through simple observation
and analysis. Narrative arts like literature and theater have used
sequence structure for centuries, producing tens of thousands of
works. Narrative cinema, on the other hand, is a young enough art
that its evolution could be observed from its beginnings to the
present day. In addition, there are few enough feature films produced
each year that one can come close to something resembling a
comprehensive analysis. Through historical observation of successes
and failures, especially cinema’s rocky trial-and-error period from
1910-1950, dramatists noticed that a large number of films found more
success when certain sequences and turning points performed certain
special duties at particular points within the narrative.
Modern films that emulated this pattern seemed to corroborate this.
All this evidence led those working in the industry to believe they
had discovered a roadmap to success, and to a certain degree they
were right.
However, what was originally perceived as simply smart business has
grown over the course of the last few decades into something considered screenplay law, and then into unquestionable dogma.
Because if there is a natural formula to write a money-maker every
time, why not use it, right? Right? But audiences have caught on.
3-Act Structure has gone from being a natural execution of the
story’s Spine to something forced upon any and every narrative
whether it fits its story's requirements or not. Remember from Part 1
of this article how each story has its own needs to which the
structure must adapt, not the other way around. The 3-Act model is
not a narrative absolute, yet many treat it as if it is. This is the
cause of much frustration and confusion among developing writers.
They are given valuable information, but the context in which it is
given is often false.
Is 3-Act Structure an absolute? Certainly not. One can create a
perfectly effective cinematic story with nothing but the Story Spine
and sequence structure. Is the use of 3-Act Structure a good idea? In
most cases, yes. Don’t reject something useful just for the sake of
rebellion. That is a false absolute of its own. The 3-Act model may
be exactly what your particular story needs. But don't force it upon
your story just because you think it is mandatory. No matter your
intentions or how you see yourself as a writer, Semper Gumby.
So in conclusion, the only absolutes in cinematic storytelling are
the same as those in any narrative. A story must exist. The story
must have a Spine. The long-form narrative must contain additional
structure. The rest is simply good advice that is often relevant to
your particular story, but may not always be so. Instructors on the
craft may give you the tools, but it is up to you. as an intelligent
and flexible-minded storyteller, to figure out when and how to use
them.
No comments:
Post a Comment