wants and needs
You know, I remember once hearing my parents tell me that I needed to “go out of my comfort zone.” I needed to meet new people, try new things, and explore. While I’m not denying the wisdom in such a statement, I question the validity of revisiting those activities, those places, those experiences, after I’ve already decided that that’s not what I want to do.
I discovered, many moons ago, that I didn’t want to be a director. I love to write films, I love to work on films, and I’ve truly enjoyed all the opportunities and people that I’ve been able to meet as I’ve explored life making films. However, despite all of the curriculum of UVU trying to convert me, I have no desire to direct films.
Perhaps it’s something about the stigma that directors are where the filmmaking buck stops. If the film is a success, the director is a genius. If the film is a colossal failure, than again, it is the director’s fault. Which, of course, is discounting the hundreds of people who’s names appear on the ending credits, displaying exactly what each was responsible for during the making of the film. Instead, we hear things like “Ah, Spielberg must be losing his touch,” or “Nolan is a genius” or maybe “Bay just makes things blow up.”
And while it is true that directors determine much of the film, any good film will have many, many people working together to create it. It’s a collaborative art, one that requires the skills and talents of several individuals. But unfortunately, a lot of people who are near to the industry but not “in” it don’t seem to understand that.
When I tell people that I work as a grip, they have no idea what I’m talking about, and when I describe the job to them, they don’t seem very interested. (Which may actually bare truth to how boring I describe the career, but I’m willfully ignorant concerning that.) But whenever I would tell someone that I study film, invariably I would be asked if I was “gonna be the next Spielberg” or something like that. While I used to just laugh and shrug, now I find myself a little annoyed.
I don’t want to be the next Spielberg, Bay, Nolan, Columbus, Lucas, or anyone else. That’s not where my talent lies. I love to work with story, my craft is the written word. I enjoy acting, I enjoy getting down and getting my hands dirty in the trenches with the grips. I love to create the art of a scene, such as the real-looking faux press badges for a scene, or the file full of incriminating evidence. I would like to create a camera rig for a car, or figure out how to make a film-able car crash. I like the details that make things up, and I notice when something relatively small is out of place.
But there are no classes for such thing. There is no “Film Art Direction 101″ in my school. Instead, this “film program” is simply the study of writing for several semesters, a little bit of gripping, a little bit of camera work, and then a bunch of directing. I’m forced to direct films over and over, and I’m just so tired of it. I don’t need to do it anymore to realize that that isn’t the place where I need to be. I need to be behind the director, supporting him from out of the spotlight. He can count on me to get it done for him, and I don’t need to worry about the logistics of dealing with talent, acting as a producer, getting catering, and whatever else on top of actually directing the film.
This rant may seem a little nonsensical. After all, what aspiring filmmaker doesn’t want to be in the spotlight? Honestly, not me. For me, I try to pull people around me who can make up for my weaknesses, and I know that actually directing is one of those things. So director, you tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll have it done for you before you’re ready for it. But just don’t make me step out of that “comfort zone.” Because honestly, I’m sick and tired of being there.
- Karratti
8-Part Story Structure: Fourth Sequence
Sequence 4: No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
At the end of the third sequence, the protagonist has usually met his first failure. He naively made an attempt, but perhaps his whole heart wasn’t in it, or he didn’t really have a true understanding of what he should have been doing. He hadn’t yet figured out his goal.
But at the beginning of the fourth sequence, he knows what he should be doing. The antagonist has become clear, and by the end of the sequence, he knows where he should be heading. This sequence is all about making a more determined, thoughtful, educated, sophisticated, and all around difficult attempt, where he’s willing to put himself on the line, and honestly try. He’s not just playing around anymore, and it will show in his demeanor.
However, despite how heart-felt this attempt may be, and despite the sheer determination in our hero’s actions, this attempt is going to end in failure, and the failure is going to be grand. The end of this sequence will bring the protagonist to the lowest point of the story – which is to say, he is going to have a deep sense of hopelessness, of despair, and he may even question whether he should go on.
Let’s take a look at one of my all-time favorite films that illustrates this beautifully, the Spielberg/Zemeckis classsic, Who Framed Roger Rabbit?
After being introduced to the hard-drinking, toon-hating private eye Eddie Valiant, we watch as he quickly becomes involved, albeit unwillingly, in trying to figure out who framed Roger Rabbit for Marvin Acme’s murder, all the while venting repeatedly how much he dislikes toons, and adamantly refusing to go to Toon Town. While he makes several cursory attempts at solving Roger’s dilemma, and believes that he’s got the case figured out several times, it isn’t until he sees the connection between R. K. Maroon and Marvin Acme that he finds some real motivation to go after something, and he decides to confront Maroon, who he believes is behind Roger’s framing, and this is where the “fourth sequence” begins.
We watch Eddie make his way to Maroon, cautiously sneaking in through the back door, and surprising the armed man. Eddie is very confident, disarming Maroon and interrogating him, expecting to hear Maroon’s confession. But he’s surprised to find that it wasn’t Maroon who framed Roger, and that there’s a much larger scheme in the works than Eddie ever realized.
In a surprising twist of events, Jessica Rabbit conks Roger over the head, stuffing him in the trunk and kidnapping him. Eddie gets shot at through the window, but dodges out of the way, the bullets instead striking Maroon, killing him. Eddie makes his way to his car, chasing after Jessica Rabbit through the streets of Los Angeles.
Jessica Rabbit makes a sudden turn, and we see the sign “Toon Town” flash in the headlights. Eddie slams on the brakes as Jessica’s car disappears into the tunnel. Eddie curses, and steps out of the car, standing at the cusp of his greatest challenge – Toon Town. This is the place he’s been trying to desperately avoid for years, and finally he must face his past and, more importantly, face himself in order to figure out the case, and save his friend, Roger.
This is where we see Eddie at the lowest low, at his personal crossroads. He’s lost his best lead, (Maroon), he’s been shot at, and he’s rushing to save his Client, who’s already in mortal danger, and now is being taken to who-knows-where. And here he is at the entrance to Toon Town, and he doesn’t know if he can do it.
Just remember that this sequence must end with the character hitting his lowest point. He has to suffer an irreversible and powerful failure, loss, struggle, or whatever you want to call it. This will also act as a catalyst for the next sequence. We see that this is where the story has taken a more “serious” turn, where things aren’t necessarily just fun and games anymore. Even in a comedy, you’ll get a sense that the film is more sober, and while you may still be laughing, you can feel “weightier” subject matter in the dialog and pacing.
Summary
- This is the protagonist’s second attempt, with more planning and ambition than the first one.
- There should definitely be a more serious tone, despite whatever genre the film is in.
- The sequence should end with the protagonist hitting his lowest point. Do the worst possible thing you can do to this guy.
updating – story structure
I’ve received a number of comments from people in the past about the 8-Part Story Structure posts, either that it’s too hard to find the next post, or that I never finished the series. I’ll admit that I got a little caught up, and didn’t get a chance to fix them, but I’m going to try to remedy that, and hopefully have the series done by the end of the year.
(I’d try for something more ambitious, but until someone starts paying me to do this, I’ve got other things that I need to get done that have a little higher priority, unfortunately. )
I’ve added links at the bottom of each post, starting with the post “Introduction”, also linking from the Unfocused site for people who have found it on a search engine. Hopefully, that makes the series a little easier to navigate.
So, keep an eye out for sequence four, coming out as soon as I can.
- Karratti
