Character Study

Screenwriting expert Julie Gray reveals her methods for ensuring that character remains the rightful focus of any screenplay.

Movies are arguably the most powerful, immersive and cathartic intersection of art and commerce that we humans have yet to produce. Even as film continues to evolve, entertain and delight us, as James Cameron demonstrates with Avatar, the possibilities are truly endless.

No matter how original, visually alluring or provocative a film might be, however, without compelling and organic characters it’s like staring at the pages of the Bon Appetit issue. The cakes, pies and tarts look tantalising but it’s all show and no full tummy. All sweet and no savoury. All cake and no supper. You can’t get no satisfaction. As audience members, we have become increasingly addicted to quick results, instant gratification and bigger and bigger spectacle. And it’s starving our souls.

Somewhere, right now, a screenwriter is getting an inspired idea while working out, sipping coffee or riding the subway. The inspired idea usually takes the form of an amazing scene or set piece that is neither the premise for, logical ending to, or substance of an entire story. There’s no reason to panic: the kid’s all right. Screenwriters, part of the tribe of dreamers, schemers, liars and thieves collectively known as ‘creatives’, should never be discouraged from brainstorming great moments for a film not yet produced.

But cakes must be pried from inky hands, and the screenwriters of today need to sit up straight and eat some vegetables. Writers have become plot obsessed and character deprived. Increasingly, they shove plots through prefab templates that dictate when and where things should happen, and write by number. They’ve lost the art of sculpting souls out of thin air. Story does not beget character; character begets story. Writers need to put down the cookie cutter and refocus on character as the heart and soul of story.

When we talk about character, we have to refer to our dear old friends The Rolling Stones, since they said it best: ‘You can’t get what you want til you get what you need’. A character has an external want at the beginning of the script, yes? Something they WANT.

Let’s look at some recent examples.

Avatar: Jake wants to do his job as a soldier and infiltrate the Na’vi in order to clear the planet for the humans.
District 9: Wikus wants to turn back into a human and get the hell out of the alien encampment.
The Lovely Bones: Susie wants to tell her parents who killed her.
Up: Carl wants to get to Paradise Falls.

Ah, but what was it the Stones said? You can’t get what you want until you get what you need. So what does each character then need?

• Jake needs to think like an individual, not a soldier.
• Wikus needs to see the aliens in a compassionate way.
• Susie needs to accept her death.
• Carl needs to let go of the past.

Until the need is met, the want cannot be fulfilled. Nor, in practical terms, can the movie end. Like the pressure along a fault line, the tension between the want and the need creates little earthquakes that we experience as the character’s flaw and—more importantly—symptoms of that flaw.

Say a character is vain. What does that look like, practically speaking? Character drives plot and flaw drives character, so what, exactly, about being vain does your character then act upon in a way that causes so many cascading problems? Symptoms of being vain might include: mirror preening and never being able to pass a reflection of oneself; putting down others; shopping compulsively; adjusting one’s clothes continually.

Any and all of those symptoms can easily create drama, conflict or comedy. If character drives plot and flaw drives character, symptoms are that which literally create the conflict. We can use the symptoms to check in on the strength and tension of your narrative and ensure your character is earning the biggest moments.

Now let’s look at how the matrix of these four quadrants of character flaw come together, using Avatar as our example.
• Jake WANTS to infiltrate the Na’vi as part of being a good .
• Jake NEEDS to think like an individual not a .
• Jake’s FLAW is that he carries out orders contrary to his true feelings.
• Jake’s SYMPTOMS are that he is short-temperedand reckless and betrays both humans and the Na’vi.

If the plot is the tossing sea, the character arc is the river far beneath the surface. It’s easy to see why screenwriters get so entranced by the storm up top; the sirens of explosions and sharks and bomb squads are the clarion call of adventure and a wide release. However, that’s the frosting, not the cake.

But here’s the good news. We can have our cake and our frosting too! And how do we do this? With the Ménage à Flaw Character Progression Method.

Step One: Establish Want, Need, Flaw, Symptoms
Having established the basic premise of your script, you must then establish the want, need, flaw and symptoms of your main character relative to the premise. In other words, because we are writers, deities creating from on high, we get to choose the worst possible situations and events for our character who happens to have x, y and z want, need, flaw and symptoms.

Many writers shrink from putting their characters through the wringer. But, writers—through adversity comes wisdom, change, catharsis and great word of mouth.

Step Two: The Dire Dozen
We know by having studied the art of drama that story revolves around the fundamental hinge points of ‘stasis, change, stasis’. First act, second act, third act. Set up, conflict, resolution. Or as more and more writers do today: first act, first half of second act, second half of second act and third act. Four acts by any other name: set up, conflict, complication, resolution. But don’t let that confuse you and don’t let the following intimidate you. Trust me, this turns out to be amazingly simple. Hang in there.

We might then divide the story into 12 10-page sequences thus: First Act:
1. Pages 1-10: set up, inciting incident.
2.
3. Pages 20-30: first plot point or break
into two.
First Half of Second Act:
4.
5.
6. Pages 50-60: midpoint complication
or reversal.
Second Half of Second Act:
7.
8.
9. Pages 75-80: second plot point or
break into three.
Third Act:
10. All is lost.
11. Battle scene.
12. Resolution.

Important note: as the story progresses, the sequences start to happen in quicker and quicker succession. So that you could beat out the Dire Dozen and wind up with a three page sequence 12. The sequences should start to shorten to under 10 pages, each right around sequence nine on.

Now. Without judging yourself, fill out as many of the sequences that you know right now. Most writers in the early stages know the first and ninth sequences only. Nothing wrong with that for now. Scribble away. Fill in the set pieces you imagined over your chai latte the other day. No worries; we’re not done here.

Step Three: Reverse Engineering
Got some pretty exciting stuff in step two there, right? Killer sharks and the like? Wonderful. Love it. Now, let’s go back to your main character. Hold that want/need/flaw/symptom chart you’ve made up next to the Dire Dozen. Did the symptoms of your character’s flaw show up actively in every sequence? What is the causal relationship between every sequence and the one that came before and after it, relative to the want, need, flaw and symptom of your main character? Aren’t sure? Reverse engineer it.

Say your sequence 11 is that the two women hold hands, put the pedal to the metal and drive their car off a cliff. It’s an unforgettable set piece. But, how did we get to that point? What happened in the low point of sequence 10? Thelma and Louise were surrounded by police. It was over. There was no way out. And how did they get to that point? Each time we rewind, we watch as their flaws and symptoms created a situation which grew more and more dire until they had no choice but to drive off that cliff.

Through the journey of your story, each sequence will test your character’s flaw. Slowly, the symptoms will lessen and evolve toward catharsis, redemption, sacrifice and rebirth. Now the arc of change is complete. Don’t let the cart pull the horse. Put character first and the story will (almost) write itself. l

This piece is an extract from Just Effing Entertain Me by Julie Gray, due for publication in late 2010. You can find Julie’s blog at www.justeffing.com
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This article first appeared in movieScope Magazine, Issue 16 (March/ April 2010)