I wanted to write a new final chapter for my book, but I got sidetracked with Groundhog Day nostalgia. I'm not sure it fits. Let me know what you think.
It has been one crazy, honest, laugh out loud hilarious read so far. Can’t wait to see how he wraps this thing up. I was underlining so many things that I finally just gave up and focused on reading.
Excellent essay. Include it. Letting writers know clarity is the hallmark of writing well (not that ALL confusion is necessarily bad as long as the ending makes sense if not profound) is absolutely necessary.
Having watched (disinterestedly) Ground Hog Day, I had no idea why, at first, you said church people wrote to the film-maker and expressed thanks. I didn't see anything worth thanking about, but since you've explained it, it makes sense, I guess. In film, as with novels, I have to understand what's going on in order to see/read the theme (message?). I do not like Bill Murry as an actor. (Or Chevy Chase, Gilda Radner et. al. or any of the SNL crew because I never thought the program was funny. But, I didn't smoke weed, so ...) And Avatar sucked. All that hype for ... a reworking of the Star Trek episode where Captain Pike lives in virtual reality with his lady-love. As for special effects, impressive for the time, but Ray Harryhousen made his "monsters" personable. Cyclops was cute.
Back to your essay. You're right, if I'm understanding you correctly. All characters don't have to address the theme in film, although individually their interactions with the MC become part of his/her story. They are individual conduits for the MC's "roundness." I've always believed that even "flat" characters should have something to distinguish them. Why? Because everyone lives in his own consciousness. It reflects the randomness of existence with other souls, which makes life interesting albeit dangerous as well.
This was brilliant! It’s one of the clearest explorations of theme I’ve read. And also reader response theory!
I think the difference between the two movies is that the Avatar heroes get what they’ve wanted from the beginning (albeit with sacrifices) while Phil gets what he never knew he wanted when the day began. (That’s S.E.’s definition of how theme arises, BTW. The first Avatar might be better because the main character has no idea of going over to the indigenous side at the beginning.)
Aha! I think my point about the characters getting exactly what they want only applies to the second one. I always thought of the first one as “Dances with Wolves - in Space!”
I have no notes on this great essay other than I really liked Avatar, and I wish more movies were made with the same vigorous eye for awing the audience as James Cameron continues to do. Story-wise? Slightly better than by-the-numbers, if only for the sheer imagination on display. Not War and Peace, but few stories ever are. Film criticism ≠ literary criticism for me, but that's another ramble for another day.
My other comment was too long to include this, but I'm including this here in case you hadn't seen it, Thaddeus, and for anyone else. It's How to Write Groundhog Day, written by Groundhog Day screenwriter Danny Rubin: https://www.dannyrubin.com/book
Details the whole writing process, the near-endless changes from script to screen, and includes the original script! I wish this sort of artifact existed for all my favorite movies.
A lot of story-craft writing attempts to reverse engineer stories, which leads to ideas like "each character must represent a facet of the theme." I admit to having thought this way, and it's an especially easy conclusion in a movie with a clear system like Groundhog Day.
Another example that comes to mind is The Lobster, which also takes place in a closed environment with a set of strict rules, and each character seems to represent a different flavor of yearning and panicked effort to achieve the universal goal of connection (or at least a facsimile thereof). It's hard to know how much of this was explicit in the writing process—a need for concrete examples to teach specific rules to the audience—or the result of organic imaginative exploration. From the interviews I've seen, I'd say mostly the latter, but maybe a bit of one, and then a bit of the other in revision.
Thaddeus, you effectively confirm my suspicion (in a way I haven't seen elsewhere) that these reverse-engineering techniques are misleading. A more ubiquitous but less pernicious case is all the talk about three-act structure. Craft essays often use Coen Bros. movies as examples, but every single time the Bros. themselves are asked about three-act structure, they stare blankly and say, "No, we don't really think about it that way."
In my own work, thinking about theme at any point before finishing the first draft is a death sentence. It traps me in the tiny scope of what I think the story should be instead of discovering what the story could be. I'm convinced the only reason I finished my debut novel was because it's based on real experiences—I could focus on describing what actually happened without thinking about "what it all means." I also didn't think about structure until draft 2, and only then to keep myself from wandering too far afield from the vague guide hinted at in draft 1.
Conversely, if I'm writing something wholly imagined, it could be about anything, could be any pace/length, and so the desire for some semblance of a "unified vision" leads to a comforting (but poisonous) thematic/structural pareidolia.
My next book won't be so explicitly autobiographical, so I have to kick this habit if I ever want to finish anything else.
Three-act structure and characters-as-facets-of-theme are great ways to examine stories, but for many including me, they're clunky ways to tell stories.
I love your craft articles for this reason. A running theme is: "I've tried using [universally touted storytelling technique], but it may be fundamentally broken…"
So refreshing.
The question is: did you consciously decide to write each article as a different facet of this theme? 😉
Wild to learn that Kaufman wrote on Get a Life, but that tracks. I’m halfway through his Antkind now.
Great essay. It helps to be reminded of the primacy of theme.
What are your thoughts on what you've read so far?
It has been one crazy, honest, laugh out loud hilarious read so far. Can’t wait to see how he wraps this thing up. I was underlining so many things that I finally just gave up and focused on reading.
Excellent essay. Include it. Letting writers know clarity is the hallmark of writing well (not that ALL confusion is necessarily bad as long as the ending makes sense if not profound) is absolutely necessary.
Having watched (disinterestedly) Ground Hog Day, I had no idea why, at first, you said church people wrote to the film-maker and expressed thanks. I didn't see anything worth thanking about, but since you've explained it, it makes sense, I guess. In film, as with novels, I have to understand what's going on in order to see/read the theme (message?). I do not like Bill Murry as an actor. (Or Chevy Chase, Gilda Radner et. al. or any of the SNL crew because I never thought the program was funny. But, I didn't smoke weed, so ...) And Avatar sucked. All that hype for ... a reworking of the Star Trek episode where Captain Pike lives in virtual reality with his lady-love. As for special effects, impressive for the time, but Ray Harryhousen made his "monsters" personable. Cyclops was cute.
Back to your essay. You're right, if I'm understanding you correctly. All characters don't have to address the theme in film, although individually their interactions with the MC become part of his/her story. They are individual conduits for the MC's "roundness." I've always believed that even "flat" characters should have something to distinguish them. Why? Because everyone lives in his own consciousness. It reflects the randomness of existence with other souls, which makes life interesting albeit dangerous as well.
This was brilliant! It’s one of the clearest explorations of theme I’ve read. And also reader response theory!
I think the difference between the two movies is that the Avatar heroes get what they’ve wanted from the beginning (albeit with sacrifices) while Phil gets what he never knew he wanted when the day began. (That’s S.E.’s definition of how theme arises, BTW. The first Avatar might be better because the main character has no idea of going over to the indigenous side at the beginning.)
That expert’s concept seems too schematic.
Thank you! You’ve given me the confidence in the piece I needed.
Was he talking about the first or second Avatar? I was assuming the second one.
He was talking about the first one.
Aha! I think my point about the characters getting exactly what they want only applies to the second one. I always thought of the first one as “Dances with Wolves - in Space!”
I have no notes on this great essay other than I really liked Avatar, and I wish more movies were made with the same vigorous eye for awing the audience as James Cameron continues to do. Story-wise? Slightly better than by-the-numbers, if only for the sheer imagination on display. Not War and Peace, but few stories ever are. Film criticism ≠ literary criticism for me, but that's another ramble for another day.
My other comment was too long to include this, but I'm including this here in case you hadn't seen it, Thaddeus, and for anyone else. It's How to Write Groundhog Day, written by Groundhog Day screenwriter Danny Rubin: https://www.dannyrubin.com/book
Details the whole writing process, the near-endless changes from script to screen, and includes the original script! I wish this sort of artifact existed for all my favorite movies.
A lot of story-craft writing attempts to reverse engineer stories, which leads to ideas like "each character must represent a facet of the theme." I admit to having thought this way, and it's an especially easy conclusion in a movie with a clear system like Groundhog Day.
Another example that comes to mind is The Lobster, which also takes place in a closed environment with a set of strict rules, and each character seems to represent a different flavor of yearning and panicked effort to achieve the universal goal of connection (or at least a facsimile thereof). It's hard to know how much of this was explicit in the writing process—a need for concrete examples to teach specific rules to the audience—or the result of organic imaginative exploration. From the interviews I've seen, I'd say mostly the latter, but maybe a bit of one, and then a bit of the other in revision.
Thaddeus, you effectively confirm my suspicion (in a way I haven't seen elsewhere) that these reverse-engineering techniques are misleading. A more ubiquitous but less pernicious case is all the talk about three-act structure. Craft essays often use Coen Bros. movies as examples, but every single time the Bros. themselves are asked about three-act structure, they stare blankly and say, "No, we don't really think about it that way."
In my own work, thinking about theme at any point before finishing the first draft is a death sentence. It traps me in the tiny scope of what I think the story should be instead of discovering what the story could be. I'm convinced the only reason I finished my debut novel was because it's based on real experiences—I could focus on describing what actually happened without thinking about "what it all means." I also didn't think about structure until draft 2, and only then to keep myself from wandering too far afield from the vague guide hinted at in draft 1.
Conversely, if I'm writing something wholly imagined, it could be about anything, could be any pace/length, and so the desire for some semblance of a "unified vision" leads to a comforting (but poisonous) thematic/structural pareidolia.
My next book won't be so explicitly autobiographical, so I have to kick this habit if I ever want to finish anything else.
Three-act structure and characters-as-facets-of-theme are great ways to examine stories, but for many including me, they're clunky ways to tell stories.
I love your craft articles for this reason. A running theme is: "I've tried using [universally touted storytelling technique], but it may be fundamentally broken…"
So refreshing.
The question is: did you consciously decide to write each article as a different facet of this theme? 😉