Tony McFadden's Blog, page 14

Story Structure – Act Two (Part One)

Act Two is the middle chunk of the story. It’s a good half of the story and character arc. We’ll talk about the first half of Act Two — up to the Midpoint turn — this week, and the second half next week.

As you read in the post about Act One (you did read it, right? No problem. I’ll wait. No rush. I just poured a fresh whiskey), the setup and status quo in Act One is ruptured by the First Plot Point, throwing our hero into a status that is distinctly not quo.

Think about how you would react. And that’s the key word: React. Out hero is in response mode, reacting to the event (the First Plot Point), that threw him into the mess he’s currently in. Look at Liar, Liar. Act One ends when Jim Carrey’s character, Fletcher Reede, discovers in the most embarrassing and painful way possible that he can’t lie. His appearance in court the next morning (which appears to be Jim Carrey vamping and the editors taking the “best” bits) is a complete and utter disaster, from a lawyer’s point of view. He can’t lie. And he can’t win unless he does.

Then the office. A parade of abusive (and truthful) one-liners, culminating in a battle with a “royal blue pen”. He has, at this point, no idea why this is happening to him. He’s wandering through the minefield of “not lying” and it’s killing him. It’s 100% reaction to the situation that’s been forced upon him.

Somewhere between the First Plot Point (end of Act One/start of Act Two) and the Midpoint is a Pinch Point. The PPs are used to let the reader and (sometimes) the hero know the magnitude of trouble they’re up against. If your story is crime fiction, this is a good point to show how bad the villain can be.

In Liar, Liar the villain/antagonist is the truth. Or rather, Fletcher’s inability to lie. And at the point where you’d expect to see a Pinch Point, one occurs. Fletcher runs a light and when pulled over by the motorcycle cop and is asked “Do you know why I pulled you over”, responds with:

: Here goes: I sped. I followed too closely. I ran a stop sign. I almost hit a Chevy. I sped some more. I failed to yield at a crosswalk. I changed lanes at the intersection. I changed lanes without signaling while running a red light and *speeding*!

: Is that all?

: No… I have unpaid parking tickets. Be gentle.

The end of the first half of Act Two is the Midpoint, the part of the story where new evidence is revealed that changes the story for our hero.

The Midpoint of Liar, Liar is when Fletcher discovers that the source of his inability to lie is the wish his son made at the birthday party Fletcher missed. Of course he then reveals to his PA, Greta (the awesome Anne Haney) that he was incapable of lying (and the partner, Miranda, overhears and tries to exploit it). Until this point, he has no idea why it’s happening. Now he knows, and he transitions to Attack mode — the second half of Act Two, which we’ll talk about next week.

 

The 1-Minute Structure Lesson

Still looking for the original video of this commercial, but this will do for now. (If you have a link to the original, please post in the comments and I’ll be forever grateful.)

This is, without doubt, the best and fastest example of story structure I’ve ever seen. In sixty seconds. Set up, reaction and resolution neatly tied up with a little bow. And the only dialog is spoken by the dog (the hero of the story)

Take a minute (literally) and watch this.

Okay. From this, we know that there are four roughly equal quarters to a story. Act One, the first half of Act Two (to the Midpoint), the second Half of Act Two (to the Second Plot Point) and Act Three. The proportions can be a little loose in a book (the midpoint will work anywhere around page 200 of a 400 page book). In a movie, the transitions will be within a minute or two of the appropriate points.

In a one minute commercial it has to be to the second.

In a 60 second commercial, the four quarters will be transitioned at 15, 30 and 45 seconds.

Act One, the first 15 seconds. We need the setup and the inciting incident. Dog and the Lady are having the time of the Dog’s life. Jogging makes dog happy. Life is perfect. Then the Lady (at 7 seconds) sees the Jeep. Inciting incident. So far, not a problem for Dog, since riding in a Jeep is almost as fun as jogging. Just Dog and Lady, splashing through puddles, head out the window. Status quo is awesome for dog.

The end of Act One in a sixty second “story” should be at 15 seconds.

Act Two starts at 16 seconds. Lady meets Man. Lady likes Man. Lady goes jogging with Man and Dog stays at home. Talk about a serious hit to the status quo.

The Midpoint (thirty one seconds of the sixty second bit) changes everything. A woman pushes a baby stroller in front of the Jeep. Man and Lady look at it, then at each other. Dog knows his life will be over if they go through with that thought. Dog goes into action. At the end of Act Two he’s gone through the Lady’s lingerie drawers and at 43 seconds Man wakes up in bed with Dog decked out in Lady’s finest.

Act Three starts at exactly 45 seconds, just where it should. Lady comes home from a jog and at exactly 45 seconds, she walks by the bedroom and sees Man in bed with Dog. A little bit of implied Zoophilia will tank pretty much any relationship. There’s a couple of seconds of Lady’s gobsmacked reaction to Man in bed and then Dog is happy again, in the passenger seat of the Jeep, going for a ride with Lady. Man is history.

Those Jeep ad guys really know what they’re doing.

 

Story Structure – Act One

It was Chekov who said:

If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it’s not going to be fired, it shouldn’t be hanging there.

I’m pretty sure he didn’t say it in English, but whatever. It’s the thought that counts. The message he was trying to impart was to have only the essentials in the story. But the opposite is just as true.

So it will be Tony who said:

Whatever the hell you do, don’t produce a rifle in Act Three that wasn’t at least hinted at in Act One.

Act One is your foundation. All of your main characters need to be introduced in Act One. An introduction can be a mention in passing, but that’s still an introduction. Character traits critical to the resolution need to be referenced, again, even if just in passing. If your hero has the ability to whip a 98 mph fastball and does so to bean a baddie in the head to bring him down in the last act, there better be a mention of his baseball experience in Act One. Seriously.

If you recall in the broad overview of story structure, Act One ends with the First Plot Point, the thing which pushes our hero out of their status quo. So we need, in Act One, to establish exactly what that status quo is.

Act One is also where your Inciting Incident lives.

(Some places call what *I* call the First Plot Point the Inciting Incident. For clarity, I always call the incident early in Act One that sets up the First Plot Point, the Inciting Incident. That’s probably confused you all as much as it has me. Anywho, back to it.)

Best way to explain the Inciting Incident is to give a few examples:

Witness: The Inciting Incident is when young Samuel (a still not ugly Lucas Haas) witnesses the murder in the bathroom at the train station. It sets up the discovery of the identity of the killer. The First Plot Point is Book (Harrison Ford) discovering that the killer is a cop.

Hanna: It’s a pretty cold status quo for Hanna, learning how to survive for one sole purpose. The Inciting Incident is Hanna flipping the switch on the beacon, luring Marissa Wiegler (for reasons that become clear – to some – closer to the end of the movie). Lured she is, and Hanna is held in a secure facility and bam, the first plot point, when she meets Marissa Wiegler for the first time. And kills her (and anybody who gets in her way).

A final one for now,

Knight and Day: Key to this exercise is knowing who’s story it is. In Knight and Day, it’s June Haven’s story (Cameron Diaz). She’s the one with the arc, and she’s the one who in the end saves the day. Her status quo has her getting on a flight to her sister’s wedding. The Inciting Incident is the fight on the plane (which she isn’t even aware of, since she’s in the loo at the time). She then becomes the target of the black hats and when she’s in the SUV (and is “safe”), her life is thrown off-kilter (and out of her status quo) when the shooter targets the vehicle. That’s her First Plot Point. Up to then, everything that happened was something she could adjust her world view to.

More on the first half of Act Two later. Happy writing!

Story Deconstructions – Coming Soon

The best way to learn how to put a good story together is to tear a good one apart. Reverse engineering. Deconstruct books you’ve read or movies you’ve seen. I’m going to tackle some movies, and to a lesser extent, some books.

Movies are easier, so, since I’m chronically lazy, I’ll start with them.

Classics like “How to Steal a Million” and “The In-Laws”. And “Dirty Dancing”.

Crappy movies like “Chappie”. (Great premise, dialog that makes me cringe every single time I watch it.) And maybe “The Interview”. (Not that bad, if you recognise that it’s 100% Seth Rogan’s baby.)

Kids’ movies like “Despicable Me” and “Matilda”.

Action adventure flicks like “Knight and Day”, “Spy”, “Limitless” and take your pick of the “Mission Impossible” movies.

I’ll start with one of these (probably “Spy”, since it’s my current favourite) and over the course of a few posts take apart the structure and the character arc.

Oh, yeah. Books. I think a Michael Robotham psychological thriller or two and a couple of Jack Reacher books, and Andy Weir’s “The Martian”. (If I get my hands on the movie, “The Martian”, I’ll do a side-by-side comparison.)

All in due course.

If there are any movies (or books, for that matter) you’d like to see me tear apart, let me know in the comments below.

 

Well, Hello

A strange thing happened on the way to the archives.

There weren’t any.

After a glitch on my site I was helpfully restored to mid-2012. Not ideal, but life’s too busy to fret about it. Over the coming weeks and months I’ll be rebuilding the Story Structure series. From scratch.

I tell myself that it’s a good thing, but I’ve been drinking, so I may be lying to myself.

So kick back, crack open a book and relax.

I’ll be back.