On Story Development

This week has been illuminating in several respects, and it's time to pick one and blog about it.

In Hollywood, there are two fundamental ways of looking at story. On the one hand, there's the question of what the story IS. Who is the protagonist, and what is the one overarching thing that person does from the beginning of the movie to the end? Once you know that, the twists and turns are determined by whatever it is that prevents the protagonist from just talking up to their goal and taking it.

In the eyes of an actor, that question is usually the most important thing to know about a movie. Personally, I'm in agreement. Cinema, in my eyes, is about action. Drama comes from the conflicting goals various actors are trying to reach in a scene. Whether that drama takes place in a courtroom, at the dinnertable, or in a downtown shootout is secondary to the need for it in the first place.

On the other hand, everyone thinks of certain images or scenarios when they hear a movie "idea". Some people look at a story in terms of how a screenplay meets or toys with those expectations. In a case like that, they're not looking at what a story IS. They're looking at what the story HAS.

For example, I might tell you that a given film is about the crew of a spaceship. Someone, somewhere, automatically assumes that the film has space battles in it, which it might not. Does that make the script bad, or mean that it doesn't deliver on the concept?

What about this? What if EVERYONE assumes the space battles?

In that case, not having space battles might be unfair. Yes, there is validity to considering what a story has. How a filmmaker plays with expectation, and how they satisfy it, is all part of the artistry.

With Sam Bailey, this has been an ongoing issue. When people read the script, they either love it or worry over the intimate scope. Some folks want flashbacks, and others would like to see some kind of action explosion towards the end, instead of the very intimate, personal resolution our team is moving towards.

My take on that process is that by focusing on what the movie is, we'll find other "things" for the movie to have. Our score is taking some interesting turns as a result of the quirky nature of the project, for example. Our DP is gifted at turning ordinary scenes into striking images, and our narrow scope gives the actors some strikingly unique moments.

By focusing on what the movie is, we may just be able to create a classic.

At the same time, if the audience feels as expectant over certain elements as some of our industry contacts do, they might be disappointed. We won't see Sam Bailey winning the Civil War - or even fleeing the Bolschevik Revolution. There will be no scene where Sam Bailey gets locked up for his hundred years of imprisonment inside the Vatican's torture chambers.

Because our company is the one introducing Sam to the world, I feel we can mitigate this risk by presenting him as a real person, more than as a myth. When we play with the myth, like we do with all the cults and the conspiracies we've been building, it helps to come off as crackpots. That way, the truth of his existence seems natural and reassuring.

On the other hand, I'm seeing this process from the other side as well. At this point in my career, I've witnessed and aided the development of a number of franchises based in rich mythology, and there's been plenty of discussion over what the film should "have in it".

Is the storyteller's job to tie those elements together, or to find the moments that are most honest to the story? In the end it depends on who's cutting the check, and which way of thinking they trust to see their investment through.

At the same time, developing a feature film seems to be more or less the tug-of-war between those two ideals.