I might be posting seven days a week for the next few months. Hmm, I wonder why...? No telling!
Why Annie Might Be Hard to Identify With:
We debated on the podcast whether having sex helped us identify with a character. I said that it doesn’t, because everybody in the world is basically sexually unsatisfied, either in terms of quality or quantity. In this case, our heroine gets to have sex with Jon Hamm. She’s living the dream! How could anyone identify with that?
Believe
…but the saving grace is that he’s a terrible lover, and she understandably doesn’t enjoy it. But c’mon, it’s Jon Hamm, so we can see why she would pretend to.
When she has breakfast with Lillian, one of her complaints is “He calls me ‘dude’ a lot,” which is nicely relatable.
Later, her boss at the jewelry store says to her, “The whole reason you have this job is because your mom’s my sponsor in AA and I’m doing you a favor”, which is nicely oddly specific.
Care
Jon Hamm says, “Wow, this is so awkward, I really want you to leave, but I don’t know how to say it without sounding like a dick.” She then has to climb over his gate to get out. Lillian tells her, “You hate yourself after you see him”
She has to walk by her shuttered bakery.
She’s losing her best friend.
Invest
We really come to BCI all at one time when she wakes up the next morning, sneaks out of bed to do her hair and make-up, then sneaks back in and pretends to wake up. Very resourceful and adorable. (Other than that she’s a fairly hapless characters, so it’s a bit hard to invest in her.)
Five Es
Eat: She and Lillian have a happy breakfast.
Exercise: She has energetic sex. She climbs over his gate. She and Lillian hide behind a tree to do sit-ups while listening to a personal trainer they didn’t pay for, then have to run away when he catches them.
Economic Activity: The personal trainer (Terry Crews) complains, “C’mon, it’s only 12 bucks.” She passes by her shuttered store: “I’m the genius who opened a bakery during the recession.” She now works at a jewelry store.
Enjoy: She and Annie are very funny and relaxed together, pretending to have horrible teeth, etc.
Emulate: Pretends to be a “cool girl”, telling Hamm, “I’m not looking for a relationship now either.” Her jewelry boss asks her to put on a “love is eternal” face.
Rise above
She says “I don’t want to go to work today.” At work, she tells a couple buying rings that love doesn’t last, putting her emotional need to vent over her professional duties.
High five a black guy
Her best friend is biracial, and a fully realized character, so it doesn’t apply.
I’ve updated the Checklist roadtest for Bridesmaids and you can check it out here. Now let’s look at one of the new answers in more depth:
Another new question on the checklist asks if the dialogue shows empathy for every character and this is something Bridesmaids excels at, as shown by the scene where Annie has an awkward lunch with her “nemesis”, Helen.
Many writers think that their hero has to “save the cat” in the first scene and continually save the cat throughout the entire story, but this just isn’t true. The scary truth is that your audience will give you about ten pages before they decide whether or not they like your hero. If they haven’t identified with the hero by then, they never will, but the upside is that once they’re onboard they will follow your hero anywhere.
Especially in a comedy, this is the point where you want to stop writing scenes that play up your heroes’ rightness and start yanking their certainties out from underneath them. This will test their self-image, and since we’ve chosen to identify with the hero, it will also test our own self-image, causing us to sweat along with the hero.
This is why you need to demonstrate empathy for all. Sacrificing the other characters, turning them into hypocrites or sniveling caricatures, does your hero no favors. If the initial certainties that your hero and audience formed turn out to be true, then they can both coast through the story smugly, untouched by events. But you do want to touch them: not all comedies need to touch our hearts, but they do at least have to poke us in the ribs. We laugh when we feel vulnerable.
Showing empathy for villains will always make your story more meaningful. This scene is funny, but it also makes Helen into a much stronger antagonist, because it makes it harder for Annie, and the audience, to dismiss her. Seeing this side of Helen also makes us understand more why Lillian would like both of these women, and might genuinely choose Helen over Annie, which amps up the jeopardy.
Instead of saying, “Ugh, we hate trophy wives, so we’ll show the world how terrible they are,” the writers of this movies said, “Sure, Helen’s terrible, but have you ever thought how much it would suck to be a trophy wife, attempting to be at-least-somewhat-maternal to kids who see you as an interloping vamp?”
Welcome to a new regular feature! First we’ll run a movie through the Ultimate Story Checklist, and then I’ll return the following day to look at where it “broke the rules” of classical storytelling, and try to figure out whether or not that’s really a problem. Bridesmaids is one of the best comedies of the last ten years, and it seems on first glance like a classically constructed story, but the checklist we ran yesterday shows some interesting deviations. Let’s look at two:
Deviation #1: The strands of the movie don’t come together at the end.
The Potential Problem: It’s really weird that the main plots never really intertwine—Yes, Helen briefly meets the cop, but he has little affect on the main story (Annie’s relationship with Lillian) and he doesn’t even attend the wedding.
Does the Movie Get Away With It? Eh, it bugged me a little bit. I would have like to see his storyline interwoven into the movie a little better. I kept wondering as I watched the movie, “Was this whole storyline added in post-production?” I’m still wondering. I love both storylines, but I think that they’re two great tastes that would have tasted great together.
But let’s move on to something that seems, on first blush, like a much bigger issue:
Deviation #2: On paper, Annie seems like a fairly uninspiring protagonist.
The Potential Problem: Let’s look at all the character ‘no’s on the checklist: She’s not good or clever at her job. She doesn’t have a strong self-image, or three rules she lives by. She’s largely buffeted by events and reacts as anyone would. She doesn’t just fail once at the mid-point—she suffers nine disasters in a row and becomes horribly depressed, which seems like a little much. She never becomes proactive: even when she pitches in to help at the end, she does so only because Helen asks her to. She never takes charge of the situation or gets out in front of her troubles.
Does the Movie Get Away With It? Surprisingly, it does. True, the third quarter is a downer, but the movie earns it by rooting Annie’s crisis to real-world pain: Annie extraordinary suffering is tied to America’s extraordinary suffering… Robert Kirkman famously created “The Walking Dead” to explore what happens after most zombie movies end. Likewise, Bridesmaids shows what happens after most romantic comedies end: she’s already had the traditional happy ending: her boyfriend helped her start her own business doing what she loved to do! But what happens when the economy crashes, the business fails and the boyfriend leaves? That horrible situation, reflecting the grim economic reality of so many Americans right now, fuels this movie, and allows it to go much darker than most romantic comedies dare to go. Ultimately, we are able to root for Annie throughout, despite her passivity and almost-bottomless depression. In fact, we totally love her, but the movie is walking a dangerous line, and it could have easily lost us.
Updated to the sixth and final version of the Checklist!
Annie Walker is a failed bakery-owner whose best friend Lillian is getting married to a man in another city. Annie is devastated, but agrees to be her maid of honor, only to find herself in competition with Lillian’s new friend, a brittle trophy wife named Helen. Annie’s whole life falls apart, but she attempts a new romance with a charming cop, and eventually makes friends with fellow bridesmaids Becca, Rita, and especially Megan, which gets her past her depression.
PART
#1: CONCEPT 17/19
The Pitch: Does this concept excite everyone who
hears about it?
Is the
one sentence description uniquely appealing?
A broke and broken-down bridesmaid gets into an epic feud with a
wealthy rival who wants to steal the position of maid of honor.
Does
the concept contain an intriguing ironic contradiction?
The bridesmaids are not maidenly. An attempt to plan a happy
celebration becomes a nasty conflict.
Is this a story anyone can identify with, projected onto
a bigger canvas, with higher stakes?
The stakes are only slightly higher than real life, but a
rivalry over a friendship results in plane being forced down, for instance.
Story Fundamentals: Will this concept generate a
strong story?
Is the
concept simple enough to spend more time on character than plot?
We all know the steps leading up to a wedding, so there’s almost
no time spent on setting up plot, it’s all character.
Is
there one character that the audience will choose to be their “hero”?
Annie.
Does
the story follow the progress of the hero’s problem, not the hero’s daily
life?
Yes, though this one problem
eventually spirals out to encompass most of her life.
Does
the story present a unique relationship?
Rivals for the title of maid of
honor.
Is at
least one actual human being opposed to what the hero is doing?
Helen.
Does
this challenge represent the hero’s greatest hope and/or greatest fear and/or
an ironic answer to the hero’s question?
Greatest fear: losing her friend.
Ironic answer: she wants to get married, but has to help someone else do it.
Does
something inside the hero have a particularly volatile reaction to the
challenge?
It triggers her suppressed rage and
self-loathing.
Does
this challenge become something that is the not just hard for the hero to do (an obstacle) but hard for the hero
to want to do (a conflict)?
She doesn’t want to give up on her
handsome but uncaring lover, doesn’t want her friend to get married. Also,
she’s afraid of flying.
In the
end, is the hero the only one who can solve the problem?
Sort of.Unlike in most movies, the hero is not working the hardest
to solve the problem, Helen is. Annie’s remarkably passive. Helen needs her
help because only Annie can talk to Lillian. And only Annie has the cop
connection.
Does
the hero permanently transform the situation and vice versa?
Transform
the situation: Only slightly. Annie talks Lillian into
going ahead with the wedding, but we’re not sure if she was really needed,
or, for that matter, if she herself wasn’t really the problem in the first
place. Transform the hero: She decides to be less depressed, more active,
date new guy, let go of friend.
The
Hook: Will this be marketable and generate word of mouth?
Does
the story satisfy the basic human urges that get people to buy and recommend
this genre?
Lots of raunchy laughs.
Does
this story show us at least one image we haven’t seen before (that can be
used to promote the final product)?
An unhappy bridal party with
attitude.
Is
there at least one “Holy Crap!” scene (to create word of mouth)?
The vomit and diarrhea-filled
dress-fitting scene.
Does
the story contain a surprise that is not obvious from the beginning?
No.
Is the
story marketable without revealing the surprise?
NA
Is the
conflict compelling and ironic both before and after the surprise?
NA
PART
#2: CHARACTER 21/22
Believe:
Do we recognize the hero as a human being?
Does
the hero have a moment of humanity early on? (A funny, or kind, or oddball,
or out-of-character, or comically vain, or unique-but-universal “I thought I
was the only one who did that!” moment?)
Bad sex, making herself up before
pretending to wake up, getting kicked out of the park, her penis impression,
putting food on her teeth when talking to her friend.
Is the
hero defined by ongoing actions and attitudes, not by backstory?
Mostly, though her backstory with the
bakery looms large.
Does
the hero have a well-defined public identity?
A funny baker with a hot boyfriend.
Does
the surface characterization ironically contrast with a hidden interior self?
A depressed, lonely person who no
longer bakes.
Does the
hero have a consistent metaphor family (drawn from his or her job,
background, or developmental state)?
Childhood: “Look at me, I’m [the
other person]”
Does
the hero have a default personality trait?
She’s an eye roller.
Does
the hero have a default argument tactic?
But not a good one. She gets brittle
and defensive, lies badly, makes promises she can’t keep. She also likes to
put up a false front.
Is the
hero’s primary motivation for tackling this challenge strong, simple, and
revealed early on?
She wants to do a good job to keep
Lillian as a friend.
Care:
Do we feel for the hero?
Does
the hero start out with a shortsighted or wrongheaded philosophy (or accept a
false piece of advice early on)?
“I’m not looking for a relationship
right now.” About being a bridesmaid: “I’m more than happy to do it and it’s
not too much.”
Does
the hero have a false or shortsighted goal in the first half?
Complete her maid of honor duties
without anyone knowing how broke or depressed she is.
Does
the hero have an open fear or anxiety about his or her future, as well as a
hidden, private fear?
Never getting married, that she’s
going to lose her friend.
Is the
hero physically and emotionally vulnerable?
Very much so.
Does
the hero have at least one untenable great flaw we empathize with? (but…)
She’s depressed, broke, and won’t let
things go.
Invest:
Can we trust the hero to tackle this challenge?
…Is that great flaw (ironically) the natural
flip-side of a great strength we admire?
The flip side of all three: She’s
funny in a self-deprecating way, a good improviser, and loyal.
Is the
hero curious?
She wants to find out about Helen,
wants to come up with creative solutions to problems.
Is the
hero generally resourceful?
She neaks out of bed in the morning
to freshen up, then pretends to wake up looking great. Climbs over gate.
Does
the hero have rules he or she lives by (either stated or implied)?
Not really. She doesn’t really
have much of a self-image, or self-esteem, or set of principles. Maybe: “I
deserve better.” (The most self-destructive rule one can have)
Is the
hero surrounded by people who sorely lack his or her most valuable quality?
She’s got more perspective about
life, more self-awareness. It’s like no one else can hear themselves talk.
…And
is the hero willing to let them know that, subtly or directly?
Yes, in a petulant-mumbled-aside kind of way.
Is the
hero already doing something active when we first meet him or her?
Yes,
having sex, then working out in the park.
Does
the hero have (or claim) decision-making authority?
She’s in charge of the bridal party.
Does
the hero use pre-established special skills from his or her past to solve
problems (rather than doing what anybody would do)?
Uses baking skills to get her man.
PART
#3: STRUCTURE (If the story is about the solving of a large problem) 18/21
1st
Quarter: Is the challenge laid out in the first quarter?
When
the story begins, is the hero becoming increasingly irritated about his or
her longstanding social problem (while still in denial about an internal
flaw)?
Doesn’t get to see enough of Lillian,
gets no respect from lover.
Does
this problem become undeniable due to a social humiliation at the beginning
of the story?
Finds out Annie is getting married,
fears that she’ll lose her.
Does
the hero discover an intimidating opportunity to fix the problem?
Gets offered the job of maid of
honor, a chance to secure her friendship.
Does
the hero hesitate until the stakes are raised?
She vacillates as she accepts the
job.
Does the hero commit to pursuing the opportunity by the
end of the first quarter?
Yes.
2nd
Quarter: Does the hero try the easy way in the second quarter?
Does
the hero’s pursuit of the opportunity quickly lead to an unforeseen conflict
with another person?
It turns out that there’s a rival for
the position: Helen.
Does
the hero try the easy way throughout the second quarter?
Takes them to a cheap restaurant,
insist on cheap dresses.
Does
the hero have a little fun and get excited about the possibility of success?
Bridesmaids bond somewhat, she tries
to get excited about Vegas trip.
Does the
easy way lead to a big crash around the midpoint, resulting in the loss of a
safe space and/or sheltering relationship?
The most epic lowest point ever: Gets everyone kicked off the
flight to Vegas, gets the bachelorette party cancelled, gets
fired as maid of honor, screws things up with the nice
guy, gets fired from job, gets kicked out of her apartment, disinvited from
wedding, car is wrecked, and loses handsome lover!
3rd
Quarter: Does the hero try the hard way in the third quarter?
Does
the hero try the hard way from this point on?
Barely. She mostly quits and cocoons,
except a half-hearted attempt to bake for the cop.
Does
the hero find out who his or her real friends and real enemies are?
Finds out Helen isn’t so bad, Megan
is a good friend.
Do the
stakes, pace, and motivation all escalate at this point?
Not at this point. The wedding is
approaching but she’s not going so it doesn’t matter. It’s only when finds
out Lillian needs her and there’s only a day left that this kicks in.
Does
the hero learn from mistakes in a painful way?
Very much so.
Does a
further setback lead to a spiritual crisis?
Megan stops by and set her straight.
4th
Quarter: Does the challenge climax in the fourth quarter?
Does
the hero adopt a corrected philosophy after the spiritual crisis?
“I’m not okay.” “Things are going to
change but they’ll be better.”
After
that crisis, does the hero finally commit to pursuing a corrected goal, which
still seems far away?
Fix everything.
Before
the final quarter of the story begins, (if not long before) has your hero
switched to being proactive, instead of reactive?
Somewhat, she still has to be asked to
help find Lillian, and doesn’t have any influence on the final wedding.
Despite
these proactive steps, is the timeline unexpectedly moved up, forcing the
hero to improvise for the finale?
Sort of, Lillian disappears, forcing
a last-minute crisis.
Do all
strands of the story and most of the characters come together for the
climactic confrontation?
Not really.The cop isn’t at the wedding, which is weird.
Does
the hero’s inner struggle climax shortly after (or possible at the same time
as) his or her outer struggle?
Yes.
Is
there an epilogue/ aftermath/ denouement in which the challenge is finally
resolved (or succumbed to), and we see how much the hero has changed
(possibly through reversible behavior)
She enjoys the wedding, bonds with
Lillian, accepts the cop’s love.
PART
#4: SCENEWORK 19/20 (Sample scene: Annie is driving angry after
feuding with Helen when she gets pulled over by a cute cop, who gives her his
number under the pretense of recommending a place to get her tail light
fixed.)
The
Set-Up: Does this scene begin with the essential elements it needs?
Were
tense and/or hopeful (and usually false) expectations for this interaction
established beforehand?
We see her look pissed when she’s
pulled over, expecting a hassle.
Does
the scene eliminate small talk and repeated beats by cutting out the
beginning (or possibly even the middle)?
It jumps from being pulled over to
the middle of the DUI test.
Is
this an intimidating setting that keeps characters active?
It’s a traffic stop, which is
inherently scary, it’s on the side of the road, which is unsafe, and he’s
making her walk the line.
Is one
of the scene partners not planning to have this conversation (and quite
possibly has something better to do)?
She just wants to get home.
Is
there at least one non-plot element complicating the scene?
The fact that the mechanic’s name is
Bill Cosby.
Does
the scene establish its own mini-ticking-clock (if only through subconscious
anticipation)?
Can she talk him out of it before he
puts the ticket in the system?
The
Conflict: Do the conflicts play out in a lively manner?
Does this scene both advance the plot and reveal
character through emotional reactions?
She’s too involved in her own pain to
realize that she’s meeting a guy. He’s smitten, she’s depressed to be
reminded about her bakery.
Does
the audience have (or develop) a rooting interest in this scene (which may
sometimes shift)?
It shifts: first we’re rooting for
her to beat the ticket, then we’re rooting for him to get her to go out with
him.
Are
two agendas genuinely clashing (rather than merely two personalities)?
She wants out of there, he wants a
date.
Does
the scene have both a surface conflict and a suppressed conflict (one of
which is the primary conflict in this scene)?
Surface: will her give her a ticket?
Suppressed: will she go out with him, will she learn to feel again?
Is the
suppressed conflict (which may or may not come to the surface) implied
through subtext (and/or called out by the other character)?
Debate about whether she’ll bake
again, baking = feeling.
Are
the characters cagy (or in denial) about their own feelings?
He won’t admit he’s asking her out,
she won’t admit her pain about losing the bakery.
Do
characters use verbal tricks and traps to get what they want, not just direct
confrontation?
He uses the tail-lights as an excuse
to give her his number. She at first tries charm, then pity to get out of the
ticket.
Is
there re-blocking, including literal push and pull between the scene partners
(often resulting in just one touch)?
She gets out of the car, back in, she
tries to flirt by dancing back and forth along the line. They don’t quite
touch, but they exchange pieces of paper.
Are
objects given or taken, representing larger values?
She gives him her license, which
forms a bond, he tears up the ticket to show his affection, he gives her a
card that doubles as giving her his number.
The
Outcome: Does this scene change the story going forward?
As a
result of this scene, does at least one of the scene partners end up doing
something that he or she didn’t intend to do when the scene began?
He is convinced to tear up the
ticket, she is convinced to take his number.
Does
the outcome of the scene ironically reverse (and/or ironically fulfill) the
original intention?
Being pulled over by a cop turns out
to be a good thing.
Are
previously-asked questions answered and new questions posed?
Who was her ex-boyfriend? What
happened to him? Will she call him? Will she get her tail-lights fixed?
Does
the scene cut out early, on a question (possibly to be answered instantly by
the circumstances of the next scene)?
No, plays out awkwardly to the end,
moves on to scene of emotional fallout, as she arrives home and looks at
evidence of her bakery.
Is the
audience left with a growing hope and/or fear for what might happen next?
(Not just in the next scene, but generally)
Yes, we’re happy to finally have a bit of a light
at the end of the tunnel, now that a new guy has appeared.But we’re also wary of the likelihood
that she will mess it up.
PART
#5: DIALOGUE 15/16
Empathetic:
Is the dialogue true to human nature?
Does
the writing demonstrate empathy for all of the characters?
Very much so, even Helen, when we
wince to see how her stepkids treat her.
Does
each of the characters, including the hero, have a limited perspective?
Very much so.
Do the
characters consciously and unconsciously prioritize their own wants, rather
than the wants of others?
There are two exceptions, but they
justify themselves. The cop becomes selflessly invested in cheering up Annie,
but it begins with a believable urge for sex and baked goods, then blossoms
into a more selfless level of concern.Likewise when Megan selflessly reaches out to cheer up Annie near the
end, it’s clearly shown to be a personal oddity that she can’t stand to have
depressed acquaintances.
Are
the characters resistant to openly admitting their feelings (to others and
even to themselves)?
Yes.
Do the
characters avoid saying things they wouldn’t say and doing things they
wouldn’t do?
Until external influences cause them
to blurt it out.
Do the
characters interrupt each other often?
Yes. Lillian doesn’t hear that Annie
doesn’t want to do it, etc.
Specific: Is the dialogue specific to this world
and each personality?
Does
the dialogue capture the jargon and tradecraft of the profession and/or
setting?
Not really
Are
there additional characters with distinct metaphor families, default
personality traits, and default argument strategies from the hero’s?
Metaphor family: Megan: macho man, Helen: wealth, etc., Default personality trait: Lillian:
Brittle, Megan: boisterous, Rita: weary, negative, etc., Argument strategy: Lillian: Shutting
you down with fact from past, Helen: passive aggressive, etc.
Heightened:
Is the dialogue more pointed and dynamic than real talk?
Is the
dialogue more concise than real talk?
Yes.
Does
the dialogue have more personality than real talk?
Yes.
Are
there minimal commas in the dialogue (the lines are not prefaced with Yes,
No, Well, Look, or the other character’s name)?
Yes.
Do
non-professor characters speak without dependent clauses, conditionals, or
parallel construction?
Yes.
Are
the non-3-dimensional characters impartially polarized into head, heart and
gut?
Annie and Helen are competing heads.
Heart: Lillian and Becca. Gut: Megan. Crotch: Rita.
Strategic: Are certain dialogue scenes withheld
until necessary?
Does
the hero have at least one big “I understand you” moment with a love interest
or primary emotional partner?
Yes,
with Lillian.
Is exposition
withheld until the hero and the audience are both demanding to know it?
The story of the bakery comes out
slowly.
Is
there one gutpunch scene, where the subtext falls away and the characters
really lay into each other?
Very much so, at the shower.
PART
#6: TONE 9/10
Genre:
Does the story tap into pre-established expectations?
Is the
story limited to one genre (or multiple genres that are merged from the
beginning?)
Raunchy comedy
Is the
story limited to sub-genres that are compatible with each other, without
mixing metaphors?
The wedding comedy.
Does
the ending satisfy most of the expectations of the genre, and defy a few
others?
Happy wedding, she gets guy, but he
doesn’t save the day and the villain is befriended instead of getting
comeuppance.
Separate
from the genre, is a consistent mood (goofy, grim, ‘fairy tale’, etc.)
established early and maintained throughout?
Framing:
Does the story set, reset, upset and ultimately exceed its own expectations?
Is
there a dramatic question posed early on, which will establish in the
audience’s mind which moment will mark the end of the story?
Will the wedding go well?
Does the story use framing devices to establish
genre, mood and expectations?
Nope, we jump right in.
Are
there characters whose situations prefigure various fates that might await
the hero?
The rest of the bridal party provide
examples of her concerns: one is unhappily married, one married naively, one
is a trophy wife, etc.
Does
foreshadowing create anticipation and suspense (and refocus the audience’s
attention on what’s important)?
Somewhat.We know that she’s bad on planes, see her rage building at
the shower, etc.
Are
reversible behaviors used to foreshadow and then confirm change?
She finally bakes again.
Is the
dramatic question answered at the very end of the story?
The story ends very quickly after the
wedding comes off well.
PART
7: THEME 14/14
Difficult:
Is the meaning of the story derived from a fundamental moral dilemma?
Can
the overall theme be stated in the form of an irreconcilable good vs. good
(or evil vs. evil) dilemma?
Friendship vs. romantic love
Is a
thematic question asked out loud (or clearly implied) in the first half, and
left open?
Implied by “I don’t want to lose
you.”Will Annie lose Lillian?
Do the
characters consistently have to choose between goods, or between evils,
instead of choosing between good and evil?
Fun vs. fiscal responsibility, for
instance.
Grounded:
Do the stakes ring true to the world of the audience?
Does
the story reflect the way the world works?
Very much so. Economic realities loom
large. Feelings are painful. Nothing is easy.
Does
the story have something authentic to say about this type of setting (Is it
based more on observations of this type of setting than ideas about it)?
A nice sense of Milwaukee vs.
Chicago.Lots of “I thought I
was the only one who noticed that” moments, about weddings, flights, jobs,
roommates, etc.
Does
the story include twinges of real life national pain?
The economic collapse of 2008 is
everywhere.
Are
these issues and the overall dilemma addressed in a way that avoids moral
hypocrisy?
The economic and emotional pain is
very real.
Do all
of the actions have real consequences?
Yes.
Subtle: Is the theme interwoven throughout so that
it need not be discussed often?
Do
many small details throughout subtly and/or ironically tie into the thematic
dilemma?
Each woman’s problems speaks to each
of the others.
Are
one or more objects representing larger ideas exchanged throughout the story,
growing in meaning each time?
Bill Cosby’s card, the baked goods, the shower
gifts, the nice dress.
Untidy:
Is the dilemma ultimately irresolvable?
Does
the ending tip towards one side of the thematic dilemma without resolving it
entirely?
It’s ultimately probably better to
prioritize finding a romantic life partner over holding onto a long-distance
friendship.
Does
the story’s outcome ironically contrast with the initial goal?
Helen helps Annie see that she’s the
problem, rather than vice versa. Her archenemy helps her get her guy.
In the
end, is the plot not entirely tidy (some small plot threads left unresolved,
some answers left vague)?
Somewhat. The romance certainly isn’t
tied up with a bow.
Do the
characters refuse (or fail) to synthesize the meaning of the story, forcing
the audience to do that?
There is no analysis of what she’s
learned after the wedding.