Beating the Story Read online

  Ensemble Dramas

  Dramatic stories may grant roughly equal weight to a number of characters, all torn between their own sets of poles. They may be closely linked, as in a family saga, or appear in disconnected vignettes, which perhaps begin to converge as the narrative concludes. Uncertainty as to which characters the narrative privileges over others may remain until the climax. Those whose poles resolve in the big final scene have clearly been the true protagonists all along. The others, with poles resolving either before then or in quick moments during the coda or denouement, have clearly been playing supporting roles—as are those whose stories fade out without clear resolution.

  Supporting Characters

  In addition to the primary protagonist or protagonists of your story, you are probably already envisioning at least some of its other key figures, who may aid or impede them as they restore order, pursue their tactical goals, or move toward emotional resolution. Defining these characters’ roles in the narrative allows you to refine them and build incidents in which they feature.

  Antagonists

  Antagonists stand between:

  iconic heroes and the restoration of order

  transformational heroes and their tactical goals

  dramatic protagonists and the beneficial resolution of their poles

  They divide into three main types: adversaries, alazons, and rivals.

  Adversaries

  Adversaries take a key role in hero stories. They place procedural obstacles between heroes and their goals. In the climaxes of most hero stories, success hinges on the hero achieving a decisive defeat over the adversary. The comeuppance dished out depends largely on genre. The adversary might be killed, imprisoned, humiliated, impoverished, or subjected to some other much-desired punishment. In stories aimed at a forgiving audience he may instead be reformed or redeemed.

  Strong adversaries have clear reasons for pursuing courses of action that place them at loggerheads with the hero. They often pursue a counter-goal, which the hero attempts to thwart. A simple, readily understandable counter-goal builds momentum and suspense. A convoluted or opaque one kills them. You also want to ensure that the plan conforms to an internal logic; without this, you’ll either throw viewers out of the story as it progresses, or cause them to downgrade it after the fact. (Hitchcock called the process of retroactively figuring out that a plot makes no sense “refrigerator logic.” He argued that this didn’t matter so long as the viewer stayed engaged during his film. But he said this before the advent of consumer video, and besides, he was Alfred Hitchcock.) To start with a strong general goal will suffice; we’ll return to the details of the adversary plan in the section Adversary Plan.

  A transformational hero’s adversary threatens or contradicts the hero’s identity. The adversary might be portrayed as a sinister alter ego or mirror image of the hero. The adversary might embody what the hero will become if the hero makes the wrong choice and fails to complete his transformation. You can afford to have the two characters mirror one another because you only need to do it once. A transformational hero doesn’t go through an open-ended series of adventures featuring a series of different adversaries.

  Frodo, who must preserve his innocence from temptation, faces Sauron, a force of pure evil who is temptation incarnate.

  The Bride, who quit the assassination business to embrace life, must seek vengeance against Bill, who continues to embrace death.

  Fixer Michael Clayton, utterly poised and unencumbered by moral qualm, must turn the tables on sweaty functionary Karen Crowder, who, in her lack of confidence, orders a hit on him instead of simply trying to buy him off.

  The iconic hero may have a privileged adversary who stands out against all the others, and can therefore follow the sinister alter ego pattern.

  Sherlock Holmes uses his advanced intellect to solve crimes. Professor Moriarty deploys his similar genius to commit them.

  Batman uses criminals’ fear of him to defeat them. The Joker spreads fear and madness for its own nihilistic sake.

  The biggest threat to the Next Generation’s Enterprise crew, embodiments of self-actualizing liberalism, is the Borg, a dehumanizing cyborg collective.

  But for variety’s sake, all of the iconic hero’s many adversaries can’t do this. So instead each adversary initiates, in a slightly differing way, the disorder the iconic hero specializes in combating.

  The adversaries of a detective commit murders.

  The adversaries of a superhero go on costumed crime sprees.

  The adversaries of a mighty-thewed barbarian capture ingénues, consort with demons, and work magic spells.

  Adversaries almost always appear in procedural stories, but not always. A notable example appears in the man vs. nature survival genre, where the hero battles obstacles supplied by impersonal forces of landscape and weather.

  They generally command one or more underlings or allies to act as secondary adversaries. The hero must typically overcome them in a series of intermediate obstacles before tackling the main villain. Sometimes the writer throws in a twist by swapping the roles of main and secondary adversary in the late going.

  Adversaries who must be physically overcome sometimes appear as minor elements in otherwise dramatic works. Casablanca is a drama, ultimately hinging on whether Rick will embrace altruism and tell Ilsa to go with Laszlo. There’s still a Nazi officer for him to shoot at the end though.

  Alazons

  Alazons stand in the way of the reconciliations needed for dramatic protagonists to resolve their internal conflicts. Where adversaries thwart heroes, dramatic protagonists confront alazons who insist on thwarting them. Where the adversary must be defeated and perhaps destroyed, the alazon must be won over.

  In classic storytelling the alazon is the forbidding authority figure, often a father denying the marriage of the young lovers. At any rate, he may appear as a blustering, boastful, or domineering figure we want to see deflated.

  For beat analysis I’m expanding the definition to any figure of resistance who must be dealt with by emotional entreaty, as opposed to physical or external means.

  Neither Margot, Richie, nor Chas can free themselves from their paralyzing hang-ups until they come to terms with their alazon, their disruptive, narcissistic father Royal Tenenbaum.

  To move from oppression to liberation, Ada McGrath must free herself from her forbidding husband.

  In A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Egeus wants Hermia to marry Demetrius instead of Lysander.

  Dramatic narratives can include alazon figures but don’t require them to generate conflict. The characters can all stand in the way of each other’s positive resolution.

  Rivals

  A rival seeks the same goal as the hero, in a zero-sum situation where only one can succeed. Although the audience roots for rivals to lose, their transgressions do not inspire loathing or the desire for destruction or comeuppance. We may see them as sympathetic, but in the way of a character we care about more.

  The unsuitable suitor provides the clearest and most time-honored of rivals.

  As per the above A Midsummer Night’s Dream example, Demetrius is the father-approved suitor to Hermia, who we want to see paired with her true love, Lysander.

  In His Girl Friday, fast-talking editor Walter Burns (Cary Grant) fears the loss of top reporter Hildy Johnson (Rosalind Russell) to Bruce Baldwin, a sweet but slightly dim avatar of midwestern primness played by Ralph Bellamy. He played similar roles so often that the stock character of the square romantic rival came to be known as “the Ralph Bellamy part.”

  The irrepressible Susan Vance pursues straight-laced paleontologist David Huxley, proving herself more exciting than his apparently better match, dour colleague Alice Swallow.

  Iceman not only tries to prove himself a better fighter pilot than Maverick but also pursues his g
irlfriend.

  Although the archaeologist Belloq also wants the Ark of the Covenant in Raiders of the Lost Ark, he throws in with murderous Nazis and in this scheme is more adversary than rival. We don’t want to see him merely thwarted at the end, but rather are more than happy to see his face melted off.

  Competing Antagonists

  Adversaries often appear at the center of a web of allies, henchmen, and minions who assist them in the execution of their plans. Sometimes the heroes will overcome obstacles by turning lesser adversaries against the top dog. In any case, you can usually treat them as extensions and functionaries of the primary adversary—as procedural obstacles in and of themselves, basically.

  Intricately plotted procedurals—political thrillers, both naturalistic and science fictional come to mind—may feature true multiple antagonists who act at cross purposes, putting into action separate plans that place them in conflict not only with your protagonists but with one another. They may be overtly villainous adversaries, or, in a grayer moral scheme, rivals to the protagonists whose goals you portray as both worthy and incompatible with those of the main characters. To invoke the compromises and disappointments of real-world politics, you could give equal weight to these contending forces, granting equal sympathy to all, even though some will win and some will lose.

  Foils

  Foils throw light onto your main characters. They allow you to write scenes illuminating the thoughts and motivations of your protagonists.

  Sidekicks

  In procedurals, foils give pragmatic and moral assistance to your primary hero. Dialogue scenes with sidekicks and companions permit you to elucidate the hero’s plans, provide exposition, and depict your protagonist’s emotional state. During action sequences these foils provide abilities complementary to the main hero.

  Pulp hero Doc Savage relies on a team of sidekicks, the Fabulous Five, for specialized skills ranging from chemistry to the law.

  On the television series Arrow, the titular hero is assisted by John Diggle, who supplies security expertise and gun skills, along with a steady wisdom the hotheaded iconic hero lacks.

  Redemption-seeking warrior Xena goes into battle with her younger, initially less experienced ally, Gabrielle, who symbolizes her lost innocence.

  Companions

  A companion acts as a viewpoint character through which the audience relates to an alien, superhuman, or otherwise distant hero.

  We see the lofty, sometimes off-putting Sherlock Holmes via the narrative voice of his loyal friend Dr. Watson. Watson gives Holmes someone to explain his thinking to. Watson performs practical tasks with the competence of a military veteran with combat experience.

  Frodo starts The Lord of the Rings as an everyman figure but during the journey to Mordor undergoes a martyr-like tribulation that causes him to recede from the reader. We experience Frodo’s grueling journey through his friend Sam’s concern for him. By using Sam as an emotional foil, Tolkien can portray his hero’s suffering without having him directly complain about it.

  The Doctor’s countless companions offset his brilliance and inhuman perspective, becoming viewer identification figures.

  A foil to a hero might both be a sidekick (assisting the hero in overcoming procedural obstacles) and a companion (serving as an emotional conduit between reader and hero).

  Confidants

  In dramatic genres foils can act as contrasting friends and confidants. These allow you to write low-stakes, relatively upbeat scenes in which the confidant urges the protagonist toward one of her poles.

  Confidant characters appear most forthrightly in the modern romantic comedy, where often each of the prospective lovers gets advice, whether sage or misguided, from a friend or relative serving as an advocate for a character pole.

  In When Harry Met Sally, the Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal characters receive advice from confidant foils played by Carrie Fisher and Bruno Kirby, respectively.

  LeBron James, as himself, appears as a confidant to the Bill Hader character in Trainwreck.

  When supportive parents appear, they take a confidant role.

  Though dismayed by Juno’s teen pregnancy, her father (played by J.K. Simmons) sticks with her, serving as a confidant. As she moves from innocence to experience, he represents experience.

  You might choose to give your character two advisers who push her in opposed directions. The type specimen of this pattern occurs in the original Star Trek. Kirk’s ethos has him solving interstellar problems with boldness and humanity. Spock and McCoy push back against the boldness in different ways that also oppose one another: logic for Spock and skepticism for McCoy. McCoy argues for humanity against Spock’s alienness.

  Parallel Foils

  Foils need not act as confidants or advisers to the main character. Instead they may take on different roles in the narrative, crossing paths with the protagonist lightly if at all. The foil’s story parallels that of a transformational hero or dramatic character, but with a contrasting or opposite resolution.

  The parallel foil might be a cautionary figure, showing what will happen if the protagonist fails to move away from her negative pole or complete her transformational arc.

  Mary, a transformational hero, follows an arc from lone wolf to team leader. She meets and butts heads with another platoon leader, Lt. Willetts. Later Willetts gets ahead of his men when he should be sticking by them and gets himself blown up by an IED.

  Yasmin’s poles are oppression vs. liberation. Her bubbly, naive sister Rana encourages her to put up with her misery for the sake of the family. When her own husband turns abusive, her inner light dims.

  Don’s poles are swagger vs. self-loathing. Formerly nerdy underling Harry Crane advances to a position of influence in the firm and adopts an insufferable version of Don’s swagger, showing how much worse Don would be without his dark yearning for a better self.

  Less often, the parallel foil succeeds where the protagonist fails. This heightens pathos, provides a redemptive note in an otherwise grim conclusion, or both.

  Hamlet’s poles are action vs. contemplation. When he dies, Fortinbras, a distant figure who embodies action, takes the throne and joins his contemplative sidekick Horatio in eulogizing him.

  When the moment of contrast occurs earlier on in the narrative, it may spur the protagonist to do better.

  Budding superhero Janey Zap undergoes an arc from zero to hero. Because she has yet to control her powers, she fails to save the people in the runaway train. Famed hero Uberwoman shows up to rescue them and flies off without acknowledging her. Janey stumbles off in frustrated humiliation.

  Psychopomps

  Transformational heroes often meet older, more experienced if not preternatural figures who aid them in their movement from zero to hero with a mixture of information, philosophical guidance, and training. Their ranks include Yoda, Morpheus from The Matrix, the Burgess Meredith character in Rocky, and Sam Elliott in Roadhouse.

  The psychopomp roots itself not merely in narrative tradition but in myth. Merlin is a psychopomp, as is John the Baptist.

  Functionaries and Rude Mechanicals

  As you build your premise into the incidents that comprise your story, you’ll find you need other minor characters to make certain scenes or plot points work. You can create them and lend them the illusion of depth while outlining.

  In a story where you wish to portray a community or other social world, a group might function as a chorus commenting on the action, as a measure of the hero’s success, or as the stakes of the contest between her order and the adversary’s disorder. You might detail individuals within the group in advance, rough them out before the outline stage, or invent them as you need them. This convention has fallen out of favor, and like many older techniques can lure you into corniness if you’re not extra vigilant against clichéd portrayals. If you lo
ok at older pieces that do use it, they often paint the characters as broad comic types—rude mechanicals in Shakespearean parlance—while at the same time making them objects of Marxist sentimentality. The unexamined condescension of this juxtaposition may explain why you don’t see it much any more. Well, that and the general die-off of old-school Marxism.

  Foils as Narrators

  Some stories present the actions of a protagonist through the viewpoint of an observer character—a sidekick, companion, or confidant who describes the action. You may choose to do this either because:

  your protagonist won’t survive the story and can’t, in a realistic narrative, continue to describe it to the end

  or it would be out of character for the protagonist to tell the story, or communicate in a sufficiently literate voice

  Both reasons apply to The Great Gatsby, told by fiction’s most notable observer, Nick Carraway. Were Hamlet a novel instead of a play, it might be told in the first person by Horatio.

  Perhaps due to an increased belief in individual agency in the western world, this device is not as frequently resorted to as it once was. Current fashion favors the direct over the distanced.

  One issue to beware of is the protagonist who behaves like an observer, watching events swirl around him without constantly driving them by pursuing a strong, apparent goal. If your main character spends a lot of time watching other people do things, they are your real protagonists, and your putative hero likely one of their foils.

  Fleshing Out Underwritten Characters

  Heavily featured characters who never rise above foil status drain your story of emotional investment. Elevate them to protagonist status by giving them:

  dramatic poles (dramatic character)