Some final notes on the thirty-four common plot patterns of American
film listed in the two previous postings: Not all commercially and
critically successful feature films need strictly adhere to only one
of these patterns. It is not uncommon (in fact, it is becoming much
more common in recent years) for movie narratives to make use of two
(or possibly more) plot patterns in a single film.
First, we have movie narratives which employ Combo Patterns. With
a Combo Pattern, the story begins by following one pattern, but
then—typically at an end-of-act turning point—transitions over to
a completely different pattern. A well-known example (and one which I
frequently mention) can be found in Pixar’s Toy Story (1995).
Toy Story’s first act follows Type 7c: The Spoiler; focusing
on Woody’s jealousy following the arrival of Buzz Lightyear.
However, rather than keep Woody on that potentially dark and
self-destructive path, the film make a jump at the end of Act 1 to
Type 14a: The Odd Couple; a pattern where two characters of
conflicting personalities are thrust into a situation where they must
learn to cooperate. Another popular example of a Combo pattern can be
found in the 1987 Robocop. The original Robocop begins
as a Type 12: The Vengeance Narrative, as the protagonist Murphy is
victimized, left for dead, and then resurrected in altered form. Yet
rather than play out as a simple quest for revenge, the story instead
turns its criticism onto the corruption and callous indifference of
corporate America by switching the narrative over to Type 2b: The
Breakaway Hero after the end of Act 1.
Whereas Combo patterns cut-and-splice together two disparate patterns
at a major turning point, Hybrid Patterns freely mix two or
more patterns into a seamless blend. However, this hybridization only
occurs between subtypes WITHIN THE SAME FAMILY GROUP. For example,
2008’s Iron Man (as you may read in this article)
presents a hybrid Taking on the Mantle narrative. For reasons
explained in the article linked above, Iron Man largely
follows Type 3b: Crisis of Conscience for its plot, and Type 3a:
Crisis of Character type for its protagonist’s Character Arc. The
horror classic The Shining (1980) hybridizes two subtypes in
The Infecting Agent to accommodate its unique premise. While the
horror narrative develops principally in the style of an Infecting
Being subtype, the evil which inhabits the Overlook Hotel is
noncorporeal, and thus cannot directly influence the story
environment until it drives Danny’s father (Jack Nicholson) insane.
As such, The Shining borrows several plot points from Type 7b:
The Infecting Idea to bring about this crucial plot event. As yet
another example, The Sixth Sense (1999) is a film with two
lead characters: Dr. Malcolm Crowe (Bruce Willis) and Cole (Haley
Joel Osmet). Crowe’s narrative journey follows Type 4b: The Seeker
Wounded, while Cole follows Type 4a: The Resistive Wounded. These
interacting paths make The Sixth Sense a hybrid Healing
Narrative.
As shown by The Sixth Sense, a film narrative may contain dual
protagonists. While plot pattern groups 14-16 are tailor-made for
dual-protagonist stories, it is also possible to assign each lead
character a separate plot pattern. I have discussed in this previous article how this occurs in the movie Creed
(2015). Another good examples may be found in the (quite overlooked)
indie film In Bruges (2008). In this film, Colin
Farrell plays a hitman in inner turmoil after accidentally killing a
young boy. His character thus follows Type 4b: The Seeker Wounded.
His partner and co-protagonist (Brendan Gleeson) is given his own
line of action, following Type 3b: The Crisis of Conscience after he
is ordered by his employer to execute the Farrell character for his
mistake. It should be noted that this dual-protagonist strategy
requires a bit more skill on the part of the storyteller. Both
patterns must be compatible with the overall story premise and
contain sufficient points of intersection with one another to result
in a script that which appears to contain a singular, homogeneous
narrative. Also, films which use a multi-narrative structure, like
Magnolia (1999), Traffic (2000) or Crash (2004)
contain numerous protagonists, each their their own narrative thread.
As such, each protagonist may follow their own, separate plot
pattern. However, in these cases, the patterns will be grossly
simplified to accommodate for the limited screentime granted to each
narrative thread.
Some films represent prototypical examples of their plot pattern—that
is, they adhere to their patterns in clear, effective, and
recognizable ways and may thus be considered the most perfect
examples of that pattern. The Godfather is a prototypical
Reluctant Hero. The Terminator is a prototypical Destructive
Beast. Alien a prototypical Infecting Being. Because of this,
I use these films most often when explaining their pattern types.
Plot patterns, however, contain a certain degree of flexibility. A
wider analysis using a larger pool of study films shows that films
may approach an equal level of success through acceptable deviations
or the use of certain alternatives paths found within each pattern. I
will discuss several of these deviant or alternative examples in my
next article.
Finally, I must stress that these are the thirty-four common plot
patterns of American cinema. If my theory is correct,
cinematic plot patterns are a cultural phenomenon. Using the
principles of mythic storytelling, these 34 patterns express core
psycho-social values and beliefs of contemporary American culture in
archetypal form. In other words, they are distinctively American
story types oriented around distinctively American sociocultural
ideals. However, since each world culture possesses its own unique
collection of core values and beliefs, each national cinema should
hypothetically develop its own unique collection of plot patterns. As
such, a foreign-made film may not conform to any of the 34 patterns I
have identified. For example, Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s
Labyrinth (2006), while quite successful with US audiences, is a
Spanish film, created by Spanish-born artists, set during a memorable
period of Spain’s history. Thus, not surprisingly, its plot
structure does not match any of the common patterns of American
films. However, if a scholar should engage in a thorough
investigation of the repeated story structures found in Spain’s
cinema, they may very well find Pan’s plot structure
repeated quite frequently in numerous other films. Additionally,
nations with cultural or historical affinities may share some plot
patterns—yet with certain clear discrepancies. For instance, Guy
Ritchie’s Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998),
popularly regarded as a British take on the style popularized by
Quentin Tarantino, loosely follows Type 9b: The Involuntary Snowball
of Complications. But only loosely. The general shape is there, but
the plot map itself differs from its American counterparts.
Of course, I must end this discussion on plot patterns with the same
questions I always use to conclude the subject: Does every Hollywood
or American Independent feature film follow one of the 34 common
patterns of plot? No, they do not. Does every successful American
film? From my investigations, all signs point to yes. I have found
that the more closely a film follows its plot pattern, the more
success it tends to have with audiences and critics. Films which only
vaguely adhere to a pattern or deviate too far from acceptable norms
tend to receive a lukewarm response. Films that contain no
identifiable pattern usually fare quite poorly with critics and
audiences. To illustrate in a simple manner: Are you a fan of The
Godfather? Your answer is likely yes. Most cinema fans are. As I
have said, The Godfather is a prototypical example of Type 1a:
The Reluctant Hero. Now, are you a big fan of Godfather III?
Stupid question. I doubt anyone is. Godfather III was widely
panned as one of the biggest cinematic disappointments of its decade.
At first, it seemed to me that the failure of the third Godfather
installment could be pinned on the complete lack of a plot pattern.
Then, under closer investigation, I found faint traces of Type 6c:
The Exploiter. Some of the Exploiter’s elements are there, but not
all. Those which are there are weak or deviant. Godfather III
is a narrative which aspired toward the Exploiter, but fell far short
due to its reactive protagonist, unclear character roles, and ragged
tapestry of convoluted story threads. Would Godfather III have
been a better film if it adhered more closely to the Exploiter
pattern? Possibly. One thing is for sure; the film definitely would
have had far more clarity in its plot and character motivations, and
would have located stable, focused path of escalating drama to lead
to a satisfying climax.
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