He’s an asshole. He’s a merchant of death. He’s a trust fund baby. His womanizing has not aged well.
Believe
He’s so disarming and relaxed in the back of the Hum-V that he feels real. (“I don’t want to see this on your MySpace page”) He has distinct metaphor family and attitudes. Later, I love that he’s listening to “Institutionalized” by Suicidal Tendencies (“I just wanted a Pepsi!”) while he’s working. He’s not a stereotype of a rich guy or engineer. He feels like you could have a beer with him.
Care
But we would despise him if his Hum-V caravan wasn’t blown up by terrorists. Then a bomb with his own name on it explodes and his shirt fills up with blood. Then he wakes up in a cave where terrorists are seemingly making a blackmail video of him. Then he finds out that his weapons are being used on innocent people. He has a bad day.
Invest
Everyone is amazed and intimidated by him. “You’ve been called the Da Vinci of our time.” He asks, “Feared or respected, is it too much to ask for both?”, and he does get both.
The ultimate bad-ass shorthand: Cool guys don’t look at explosions. Yes, I will share the video again:
Five Es
Eat: He’s drinking alcohol.
Exercise: Not really.
Economic Activity: He’s closing a big sale when we first meet him.
Enjoy: He’s very much enjoying himself, no matter what he does.
Emulate: He’s emulating his father a bit, but also refusing to do so.
Rise above
He doesn’t show up to get a business award because he’s playing in a casino instead. Then he gives the award away to a casino girl.
High five a black guy
A black guy says that Tony is his friend and mentor (but it’s a fully-realized character, so it’s not bad.)
This is another one where I had to cut a question from the checklist that elicited an interesting answer, so I’ll preserve it here for posterity:
Are set-up and pay-off used to dazzle the audience (and maybe
distract attention from plot contrivances)?
Yes and no: some plot contrivances
could have been covered up better with set-up and payoff: At the end, why is
Pepper standing in the same spot 10 minutes later? Why doesn’t Pepper call
Tony earlier? On the other hand: The icing problem is nicely set-up as a
problem, so that we don’t realize that it’ll be a solution later, and Tony
giving away his heart, and getting it back, is set up as a character beat, so
we don’t realize that it’ll be a plot solution later. Also: Coulson always
being around pestering Tony is seen as a problem, so we buy it when it turns
into a solution later.
So I’m hoping that the “Breaking Bad” checklist finally looked good on everybody’s computer, whether desktop or mobile. I’ve been fooling around with the format on these things forever, but I feel like I actually have it down. To celebrate, I’ll be reposting most of the old ones, all of which I’ve updated for Checklist v5. As I do so, I’ll revisit some of them, starting with Iron Man…
Why does Pepper wait until the sun has gone down (a minute too late) to call Tony and warn him about Stane?
During Tony’s big fight with Stane, why is Pepper standing in the same spot 10 minutes after the fight began, insuring that she’ll be in danger again when they crash back down to Earth?
But upon re-examining the movie, I decided that I’d been too hard on it. The fact is that plotting action is extremely hard. You don’t just have to work out the story beats, you also have to time them precisely to all the other beats, because of the urgent nature of the situation, and, of course, you have to keep endangering the love interest without making her/him stupid or making the hero seem callous for endangering her/him.
If you’ve ever written action, you know how nearly impossible this is, and it’s all the more frustrating because nobody notices your accomplishment. Nobody ever walked out of an action movie saying, “Wow, they did a great job keeping the intelligent love interest constantly in danger for believable reasons!” They only notice if that isn’t true.
Keeping that in mind, the plotting in Iron Man is actually really elegant, and it demonstrates one trick that I’ve never highlighted before…
When you write an action movie, you have to constantly create impossible death traps and then have the hero get out of them anyway. That’s where the adrenaline rush kicks in. If the problem is within the scope of the hero’s standard skill-set, then it’s not exciting to watch him or her triumph. If, on the other hand, the hero utilizes an escape that’s never even been hinted at, the audience will feel cheated. So the whole job is to quietly set-up a future solution, then trick the audience into forgetting about it just long enough to freak them out about the next big danger…only to have the pre-planted solution unexpectedly pay off.
This is really hard to do, but Iron Man shows how it’s done: If you’re going to plant a solution, make it seem like a problem at the time, so that it won’t occur to the audience that this might come in handy later.
One example is the rescue of Pepper, when Stane catches her downloading files in Tony’s office. Let’s look at the potential ways Pepper could get away…
Let her slip away easily? No, this lacks suspense, and makes the villain look dumb.
Have her suddenly busts out some kung-fu moves? I suppose, but it strains credibility when everyday people have fighting skills. Audiences want realistic characters, even in action movies. Not every woman needs to be a fighter in order to be a strong female character. (In fact no character in this movie, male or female, displays any unaided hand-to-hand skills, which is refreshing for an action movie)
So that means she has to benefit from outside intervention. (Yes, it’s okay for a female character to get rescued every now and then, especially if she got into this by doing something heroic, and she’ll do something heroic as a result.) So who should rescue her? Tony? No, this violates another rule: you have to limit the number of direct confrontations between your hero and your villain, because, we all know that these will be inconsequential confrontations until the end of the movie, and the audience only has so much tolerance for those. Even an action movie can’t be one long direct confrontation.
So that leaves one option: an unexpected rescuer.
But we can’t have that rescue be totally unexpected, because that would feel like a cheat. So how do you set it up surreptitiously? By introducing the solution as a problem. In addition to dealing with Tony’s outlandish needs throughout the movie, Pepper also has to run interference for him, putting off people like Mr. Coulson, a government agent who keeps meekly requesting a moment of Tony’s time. By making Coulson a persistent annoyance, we don’t notice that he’s being set up to be there to rescue Pepper when the time is right.
(…and even then, it feels like she’s rescuing herself, because she uses her special skill to solve this life-threatening situation: scheduling access to Tony. It just goes to show that any special skill can have a nice pay-off!)
The movie does this again with issue of icing. At the end, when Iron Man fights Iron Monger, it has to be clear that Stane’s armor is more powerful than Tony’s so that we’ll feel that adrenaline rush, but Tony has to defeat Stane anyway in a way that makes sense. Once again the solution was established as a problem: When Tony was first testing out his armor he took it too high and almost died when it iced over. This felt like its own harrowing moment, not a set-up for a later rescue, but it’s the perfect solution to his later problem
(And, yes, this taps into Tony’s special skill: Stane may be able to steal and max-out Tony’s original plans, but he doesn’t have Tony’s insatiable urge to endanger himself and then tinker around to solve the problems he encounters while doing so. Thus Tony has solved the icing problem and Stane hasn’t.)
I said we’d move on to another movie today, but no, I think that, from now on, for every Road Test, I’ll also include at least one Rulebook Casefile, focusing in more on one of the rules the movie did a particularly good job of exemplifying.
This time, let’s look at how nicely Iron Man showed the exchange of an object representing larger values: Tony’s heart device.
Ambushed in Afghanistan, Tony Stark’s heart is injured when his own bomb pierces the armor provided by the army.
He finds out that that the shrapnel is lodged in his chest, aimed at his heart, and can’t be removed. He can only hold it back with magnets. The person telling him this knows what’s going on because he’s seen that this is how Tony’s bombs kill children in his village. (Hearing that he’s being stabbed in the heart stabs him in the heart.)
He and his new third-world friend devise a glowing device to keep his heart alive and fill a hole in his chest.
His friend dies and tells Tony not to waste what he’s given him.
Tony gets home and invents a sleeker device using his superior technology. He doesn’t trust doctors, so he gets his executive assistant Pepper take it out and put the new one in. She does so by reaching deep into his chest cavity. She asks about the old one, but he forcefully waves it away and says “Destroy it, incinerate it. I’ve been called many things, but never a sentimentalist.” Nevertheless, she takes it with her.
What do you get for the man who has everything? Pepper gives him the device encased in glass, set in a metal ring that says “Proof that Tony Stark has a Heart.”
Stane, Tony’s faithless partner, builds his own armor, but can’t figure out how to build the heart of it.
Stane rips the device out of his chest, and leaves him to die.
Tony crawls down to his lab and busts the glass on Pepper’s gift at the last second. He gave his heart to the right person!
The final battle can be seen as Pepper’s heart vs. Stane’s heart, or as the authentic third-world-built heart vs. the stolen first-world heart.
A lot of this sounds heavy-handed when I spell it out, but that’s the beauty of it: the movie doesn’t have to spell it out. We would reject these messages if we heard them, but we’re simply feeling them instead.
Think of all the dialogue exchanges that this object’s exchange has replaced. Tony doesn’t have to talk anywhere near as much about how he feels about his weapons killing innocents, about how he feels about Pepper, about how she feels about him, about how it feels to be betrayed, etc. It allows Tony to remain the happy-go-lucky guy we want him to be, because we have this object to tell us a lot of the things he doesn’t want to say.
This also allows the film to discuss the politics less openly, which allows it to subconsciously make political points that its audience might not want to hear.
Okay, next we’ll finally move on to a very different movie...
Just one real problem I see, but it was potentially disastrous...
Deviation: The scene we looked at (from the 2nd quarter) didn’t really flow from the previous scene or into the next scene, indicating a lack of momentum.
The Potential Problem: This signals a much bigger problem. The hero takes it very easy in the 2nd quarter. He spends the whole time making the armor while his enemies move against him without his knowledge. But wait, if he’s unaware of the threat, then why is he making the armor? The implication is that he intends to use it to retrieve his errant weaponry, but he seems to think he’s already taken care of the problem, because he’s shocked at the midpoint to discover that the terrorists still have his weapons, and his bosses are still selling them. When he uses the armor, he’s reacting to new information, not a pre-established plan. (In fact, there are implications that he decides to weaponize the armor against his better judgment at this point.)
Does the Movie Get Away With It? Remarkably, yes ...more or less. I suspect most viewers don’t really spot this massive motivation hole until subsequent viewings. Why? Partially because the process scenes are so much fun. We’re focused on the step-by-step how-to of building the armor, so we never step back and ask why.
Still, this problem could have been eased if we had something like, “next time I find out that people are dying because of me, I’ll be ready”. Also, it would good to add a scene that made it clear that Tony didn’t trust the US Army to find and/or confront terrorists using his weapons. Superhero movies should always have an element of “It’s up to me now”.
Tony
Stark is a reckless billionaire arms manufacturer who gets kidnapped by Afghan
terrorists that are using his own weapons. They force him to build them a new
weapon, but instead he creates high-tech armor for himself. After he gets away,
he perfects the armor with the help of his loyal assistant, Pepper, just in
time to fight his own partner, Stane, who hired the terrorists in the first
place and still wants him out of the way.
PART
#1: CONCEPT 19/19
The Pitch: Does this concept excite everyone who
hears about it?
Is the
one sentence description uniquely appealing?
A humbled arms dealer becomes a high-tech armored superhero
to confront the enemies foreign and domestic that he himself has armed.
Does
the concept contain an intriguing ironic contradiction?
Many: He thinks his products are making everyone free, but
they’re in the hands of his evil captors. He has an impervious shell but a
weak heart. An arms merchant wants to disarm the world.
Is this a story anyone can identify with, projected onto
a bigger canvas, with higher stakes?
A universal tale of overcoming hypocrisy and taking
responsibility for one’s actions, but with lives on the line.
Story Fundamentals: Will this concept generate a
strong story?
Is the
concept simple enough to spend more time on character than plot?
There’s actually relatively little plot, especially for a
super-hero movie.
Is
there one character that the audience will choose to be their “hero”?
Tony.
Does
the story follow the progress of the hero’s problem, not the hero’s daily
life?
Yes. We zip through a lot of story
quickly.
Does
the story present a unique relationship?
An arms dealing billionaire and his
military liaison
Is at
least one actual human being opposed to what the hero is doing?
First the warlord, then Stane.
Sometimes Pepper as well.
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, and ironic answer to
rhetorical questions he asks about when he’d stop making weapons.
Does
something inside the hero have a particularly volatile reaction to the
challenge?
Everybody is shocked by how strongly
he reacts to his captivity.
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)?
He has to endanger everything he has,
put his fortune, company and friends at risk, go against his lifelong
philosophy.
In the
end, is the hero the only one who can solve the problem?
Sure. Pepper and SHIELD are helping,
but they’re overpowered by Stane.
Does
the hero permanently transform the situation and vice versa?
He can’t go back to his comfortable
life at the end.
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?
Very much so.
Does
this story show us at least one image we haven’t seen before (that can be used
to promote the final product)?
Very much so.
Is
there at least one “Holy Crap!” scene (to create word of mouth)?
The first fight in Afghanistan in the
new armor. The first flight. Her removing his heart is harrowing.
Post-credits scene with Sam Jackson.
Does
the story contain a surprise that is not obvious from the beginning?
Stane hired the terrorists.
Is the
story marketable without revealing the surprise?
Yes.
Is the
conflict compelling and ironic both before and after the surprise?
Yes.
PART
#2: CHARACTER 20/22
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?)
Funny and kind: he cracks jokes in the
jeep with the soldiers, knows their names, jokes about them throwing up gang
signs in pictures. (In on the joke despite high status)
Is the
hero defined by ongoing actions and attitudes, not by backstory?
We meet him in Afghanistan and love
his behavior there before we get any history, which is then dealt with
quickly. No flashbacks, no baggage. Compare to the sequel.
Does
the hero have a well-defined public identity?
Maverick billionaire playboy
Does
the surface characterization ironically contrast with a hidden interior self?
Somewhat: people pretty much have his
number, but he’s more down to earth than you would think. You could argue
that he always had a conflicted guilty conscience underneath, but you could
also make the case that he hasn’t had any qualms until this disaster.
Does
the hero have a consistent metaphor family (drawn from his or her job,
background, or developmental state)?
Developmental state: friendly-frat.
“Is that so hard? That was fun, right?” Talking to his machines: “Dummy,
you’re on standby for fire safety, you: roll it.” “Thrill me.” To himself:
“Yeah, I can fly.”
Does
the hero have a default personality trait?
Cockiness, charm
Does
the hero have a default argument tactic?
Sarcastic direct assault, “what are
you going to do about it”-style. Cuts the other person off with a quick,
witty, withering line, then smirks while they try to answer.
Is the
hero’s primary motivation for tackling this challenge strong, simple, and
revealed early on?
Just trying to stay alive at first, then
trying to get his weaponry away from his captors.
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)?
“My old man had a philosophy: Peace
means having a bigger stick than the other guy.”
Does
the hero have a false or shortsighted goal in the first half?
Sell the missiles to the army.
Does
the hero have an open fear or anxiety about his or her future, as well as a
hidden, private fear?
Open, only slightly: that he won’t
close this deal. Hidden: That he’s a death merchant.
Is the
hero physically and emotionally vulnerable?
A literal weak heart and a figurative
weak heart.
Does
the hero have at least one untenable great flaw we empathize with? (but…)
He’s arrogant, sleazy, naïve, etc.
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?
He’s brilliant, charming, ultimately
principled.
Is the
hero curious?
About scientific things, but not
enough about his own life until it’s almost too late.
Is the
hero generally resourceful?
Very much so.
Does
the hero have rules he or she lives by (either stated or implied)?
Live well, be smarter, be cool
Is the
hero surrounded by people who sorely lack his or her most valuable quality?
Nobody is as laid back as him. They’re
all somewhat uptight, even Pepper and Rhodey.
…And
is the hero willing to let them know that, subtly or directly?
Very much so. He verbally humiliates
friends and enemies alike.
Is the
hero already doing something active when we first meet him or her?
Yeah, he gives a great presentation.
Does
the hero have (or claim) decision-making authority?
Very much so.
Does
the hero use pre-established special skills from his or her past to solve
problems (rather than doing what anybody would do)?
Very much so. Even in the final fight,
he uses his engineering skills to figure out the right part to rip out of
Stane’s suit (“that looks important”)
PART
#3: STRUCTURE (If the story is about the solving of a large problem) 20/21
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)?
If we ignore the flashforward and take
things in order, then not really, or at least Tony pretends not to be troubled by the criticisms he gets, or to have
any qualms. His protests to the reporter seem genuine, but we and he realize
that, deep down, he really knew better when…
Does
this problem become undeniable due to a social humiliation at the beginning
of the story?
He gets blown up by one of his own
bombs in the hands of terrorists, almost killed, finds out his bombs kill
kids frequently in the same way, forced to make more weapons for evildoers.
(Notably, this guy was so arrogant that they had to use a flashforward
structure to preview the
humiliation before we get an
in-depth look at his personality, pre-assuring us that, don’t worry, he’ll
get his comeuppance)
Does
the hero discover an intimidating opportunity to fix the problem?
He builds the armor.
Does
the hero hesitate until the stakes are raised?
He wants to just die, but Yinsen
convinces him to do it.
Does the hero commit to pursuing the opportunity by the
end of the first quarter?
He builds the armor and escapes.
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?
Stane isn’t happy about his new direction.
For that matter, neither are Pepper or Rhodey.
Does
the hero try the easy way throughout the second quarter?
He lets Stane play interference with
the company, waits for Pepper and Rhodey to come around.
Does
the hero have a little fun and get excited about the possibility of success?
He loves flying around with the armor.
He goes to the party, hits on Pepper, starts to boast again.
Does the
easy way lead to a big crash around the midpoint, resulting in the loss of a
safe space and/or sheltering relationship?
He finds out that his weapons have
been used again, Stane comes out against him. Then Stane takes his company,
invades his house.
3rd
Quarter: Does the hero try the hard way in the third quarter?
Does
the hero try the hard way from this point on?
Goes and disarms the guys himself,
then comes to deal with Stane, but it’s too late.
Does
the hero find out who his or her real friends and real enemies are?
Stane tries to kill him, Pepper and
Rhodey back him up, Agent Coulson goes from annoyance to ally.
Do the
stakes, pace, and motivation all escalate at this point?
Yes.
Does
the hero learn from mistakes in a painful way?
He literally has his heart ripped out
by Stane, has to put in the heart that Pepper gave him.
Does a
further setback lead to a spiritual crisis?
He has several spiritual crises in
this movie, but yes, he does have an ultimate one here when he has to crawl
to claim his old heart back.
4th
Quarter: Does the challenge climax in the fourth quarter?
Does
the hero adopt a corrected philosophy after the spiritual crisis?
“I’m going to find my weapons and
destroy them. I’m not crazy, Pepper, I just finally know what I have to do,
and I know in my heart that it’s right.”
After
that crisis, does the hero finally commit to pursuing a corrected goal, which
still seems far away?
Defeat Stane, save Pepper.
Before
the final quarter of the story begins, (if not long before) has your hero
switched to being proactive, instead of reactive?
Finally cares where Stane is and what
he’s up to.
Despite
these proactive steps, is the timeline unexpectedly moved up, forcing the
hero to improvise for the finale?
Pepper is already confronting Stane
when he finds out.
Do all
strands of the story and most of the characters come together for the
climactic confrontation?
Only Rhodey isn’t there, but that’s
fine (there’s a deleted scene where he shows up to help and it’s ridiculous)
Does
the hero’s inner struggle climax shortly after (or possible at the same time
as) his or her outer struggle?
Afterwards, when he finally decides
who he is.
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)
He tries again with Pepper, but fails,
and then tells the world who he is.
PART
#4: SCENEWORK (Random example: Tony has built a
better chest-device to keep shrapnel out of his heart, so he calls Pepper in
to reach into his chest and replace the old one with a new one.) 17/20
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?
She’s just been watching Jim Cramer
talking about his business tanking, so she’s worried about her job, so she
feels she has to do this.
Does
the scene eliminate small talk and repeated beats by cutting out the
beginning (or possibly even the middle)?
Sort of, it goes from her entrance to
her exit, but he’s already very far along before he invites her down.
Is
this an intimidating setting that keeps characters active?
Somewhat, she’s been told she’s not
welcome there before.
Is one
of the scene partners not planning to have this conversation (and quite
possibly has something better to do)?
Yes, she was otherwise occupied before
he called her in.
Is
there at least one non-plot element complicating the scene?
He yells at his robots about his desk
Does
the scene establish its own mini-ticking-clock (if only through subconscious
anticipation)?
She pulls out the magnet and he starts
to go into cardiac arrest.
The
Conflict: Do the conflicts play out in a lively manner?
Does this scene both advance the plot and reveal
character through emotional reactions?
Seems entirely like a character scene
at the time, later we realize that it serves the plot. This is a classic
example of a small scene that generates an unexpectedly volatile amount of
emotion for both parties.
Does
the audience have (or develop) a rooting interest in this scene (which may
sometimes shift)?
We’re on her side: we don’t know
what’s going on, feel this is too much to ask. (later, when she gets too
grossed, out, we switch to his side somewhat, and share his lack of
patience.)
Are
two agendas genuinely clashing (rather than merely two personalities)?
She wants him to get medical help but
he just wants to rely on her.
Does
the scene have both a surface conflict and a suppressed conflict (one of
which is the primary conflict in this scene)?
Surface: he needs her to replace his
heart, Suppressed, they each want to admit that they’re in love.
Is the
suppressed conflict (which may or may not come to the surface) implied
through subtext (and/or called out by the other character)?
Very much so.
Are
the characters cagy (or in denial) about their own feelings?
He finally admits “I don’t have anyone
but you.” But she doesn’t respond and he quickly says “Anyway.”
Do
characters use verbal tricks and traps to get what they want, not just direct
confrontation?
He suddenly gives her much-needed
compliments to get her to do it, playing on her suppressed feelings.
Is
there re-blocking, including literal push and pull between the scene partners
(often resulting in just one touch)?
She actually reaches into him, after
barely having touched him before this.
Are
objects given or taken, representing larger values?
His old heart, his new heart.
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 gets her to take his heart out, she
gets him to he admits his feelings for her briefly.
Does
the outcome of the scene ironically reverse (and/or ironically fulfill) the
original intention?
He saves his heart and loses it.
Are
previously-asked questions answered and new questions posed?
Previous: How does the device work?
New: What will she do with the old heart? (We see a thought occur to her.)
Does
the scene cut out early, on a question (possibly to be answered instantly by
the circumstances of the next scene)?
No. The transition to the next scene
is actually really abrupt and awkward.
Is the
audience left with a growing hope and/or fear for what might happen next?
(Not just in the next scene, but generally)
Not really. Things haven’t gotten much
better or worse for the hero in this scene.
PART
#5: DIALOGUE 16/16
Empathetic:
Is the dialogue true to human nature?
Does
the writing demonstrate empathy for all of the characters?
Very much so. The army guys who are
about to be killed are nicely humanized. The air force guys aren’t buffoons
just because they oppose Tony. When Tony sleeps with the reporter and Pepper
sneers at her, we’re on Pepper’s side, but the reporter gets to come back and
prove herself right all along! We actually agree with Stane for most of the
movie. We see how the terrorists feel justified.
Does
each of the characters, including the hero, have a limited perspective?
Very much so. Even Pepper has moral
blind spots, and everybody else has tons.
Do the
characters consciously and unconsciously prioritize their own wants, rather
than the wants of others?
Very much so. Everyone’s motivation
tracks.
Are
the characters resistant to openly admitting their feelings (to others and
even to themselves)?
Very much so. It takes huge events to
get Pepper and Tony to admit how much they need each other, and then they
won’t admit they’ve said it later.
Do the
characters avoid saying things they wouldn’t say and doing things they
wouldn’t do?
Stane never boasts about his plans,
nor do the terrorists. There’s no awkward exposition.
Do the
characters interrupt each other often?
Very much so. Tony never listens,
period.
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?
Both the military
setting and the tech company setting. A good portrayal of how research and
development of new technology actually works, and how corporate takeovers
happen.
Are
there additional characters with distinct metaphor families, default
personality traits, and default argument strategies from the hero’s?
Metaphor family: Rhodey: military, Pepper: a gently scolding mom, Stane: CEO
Boosterism, Default personality trait: Pepper is professional. Stane is phony concern (“He left part of
himself back in that cave. Breaks my heart.” “I wish you had left Pepper out
of this. I would have liked to let her live”),
Argument strategy: Pepper: nail you with one surgical
question that will shut down your argument. (“What’s your social security
number?”)
Heightened:
Is the dialogue more pointed and dynamic than real talk?
Is the
dialogue more concise than real talk?
Exchange with reporter outside his car
packs a huge amount of character work and big theme ideas into quick sexy
banter.
Does
the dialogue have more personality than real talk?
Very much so. “I also take out his
trash,” Pepper says to the reporter.
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?
Even the over-educated ones.
Are
the non-3-dimensional characters impartially polarized into head, heart and
gut?
Partial polarization: Tony is head and
gut, no heart. Pepper is head and heart, no gut. Jarvis is all-head,
obviously.
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?
At the
party
Is
exposition withheld until the hero and the audience are both demanding to
know it?
We’ve gotten to like him and then seen
him suffer before we find out who he is, so now we care enough to find out.
Is
there one gutpunch scene, where the subtext falls away and the characters
really lay into each other?
Late at night with Tony and Pepper.
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?)
Consistently mixes action and
conspiracy.
Is the
story limited to sub-genres that are compatible with each other, without
mixing metaphors?
Super-hero and terrorism-thriller,
mixed well.
Does
the ending satisfy most of the expectations of the genre, and defy a few
others?
Villain is defeated, girl is lost
(which is common for this genre), but secret identity is rejected, which is
shockingly new.
Separate
from the genre, is a consistent mood (goofy, grim, ‘fairy tale’, etc.) established
early and maintained throughout?
Light (even in terrorist captivity),
zippy, brash.
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?
Not really. The movie kind of ends
halfway through, then fires back up again. Finally, it becomes, “Can Stane be
stopped?”
Does the story use framing devices to establish
genre, mood and expectations?
A flashforward establishes the genre
and assures us that we can like this jerk we’re about to meet because he’ll
soon get his comeuppance.
Are
there characters whose situations prefigure various fates that might await
the hero?
Co-inventor who dies shows him that he
will eventually have to choose, Stane represents what he’s afraid he’ll
become.
Does
foreshadowing create anticipation and suspense (and refocus the audience’s
attention on what’s important)?
We keep cutting back to Ten Rings,
getting us wondering when they’ll come back, and distracting us from Stane as
the big bad.
Are reversible behaviors used to foreshadow and then confirm
change?
Encases his heart in glass, then
smashes the glass. He keeps lying when he’s supposed to tell the truth, then
finally tells the truth when he’s supposed to lie.
Is the dramatic question answered at the very end of the story?
Yes, Stane is stopped.
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?
Individual achievement vs. societal
responsibility.
Is a
thematic question asked out loud (or clearly implied) in the first half, and
left open?
“A lot of people would call that being
a hero.” “And a lot of people would also call that war profiteering.” Of
course, the slideshow begins “Who is Tony Stark”, which is answered by the
final line, when he announces, “I am Iron Man”
Do the
characters consistently have to choose between goods, or between evils,
instead of choosing between good and evil?
He escapes even though it means his
mentor will be killed, destroys his own business even though his friends
depend on it.
Grounded:
Do the stakes ring true to the world of the audience?
Does
the story reflect the way the world works?
The army isn’t happy about the idea of
a super-hero, terrorists have believable motivations and economics. Compare
to Nolan’s Batman movies where terrorism is merely motivated by a love of
chaos, and billionaires are an abstract ideal.
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)?
Believable portrayal of an inventor’s
rhythms, thought process. The firefight feels like a real firefight.
Does
the story include twinges of real life national pain?
Very much so: America’s corrupt
adventure in Afghanistan, war profiteering.
Are
these issues and the overall dilemma addressed in a way that avoids moral
hypocrisy?
Tony doesn’t come up with some clever
guarantee that makes sure that his arms won’t go to bad guys. The thorniness
remains.
Do all
of the actions have real consequences?
Lots of suffering on Tony’s part,
women and friends truly resent his treatment of them even though they find
him charming.
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?
Relationship with reporter ties his
treatment of the third world to his treatment of women.
Are
one or more objects representing larger ideas exchanged throughout the story,
growing in meaning each time?
The exchange of the heart devices tell
the whole story.
Untidy:
Is the dilemma ultimately irresolvable?
Does
the ending tip towards one side of the thematic dilemma without resolving it
entirely?
Societal responsibility is clearly
better, but Individual achievement is still pretty cool.
Does
the story’s outcome ironically contrast with the initial goal?
He earns the right to be a super-hero
and then immediately breaks the first rule.
In the
end, is the plot not entirely tidy (some small plot threads left unresolved,
some answers left vague)?
In the truly terrible deleted scenes,
everything is explained in much more details, and as a result the story feels
leaden and meaningless.
Do the
characters refuse (or fail) to synthesize the meaning of the story, forcing
the audience to do that?
