The Ultimate Story Checklist: The Farewell

Billi is broke Chinese-American would-be writer in New York, who finds out that her beloved grandma Nai Nai back in China is dying, and, according to Chinese custom, the family has chosen not to tell her of her own illness, but the family has contrived a wedding that will give them an excuse to visit grandma one last time.  Billi decides to tell grandma but gets talked out of it, eventually joining in on the deception.  In the end, Nai Nai doesn’t find out and is still alive when the movie is made. 

PART #1: CONCEPT 15/19
The Pitch: Does this concept excite everyone who hears about it?
Is the one sentence description uniquely appealing?	A young Chinese-American woman returns to China to see her dying grandma one last time, but nobody will let her tell her grandma the truth.
Does the concept contain an intriguing ironic contradiction?	Lying for an honorable reason, withholding aggressive medical care with the idea that it would do more harm than good because of the fear it would cause
Is this a story anyone can identify with, projected onto a bigger canvas, with higher stakes?	Wang says that the more specific she made it to her culture the more universal it become.  We’ve all told lies to family to make them feel better, but not usually with life or death stakes.
Story Fundamentals: Will this concept generate a strong story?
Is the concept simple enough to spend more time on character than plot?	Yes, there’s very little plot.
Is there one character that the audience will choose to be their “hero”?	Yes, Billi
Does the story follow the progress of the hero’s problem, not the hero’s daily life?	Yes, we see little of her life outside this problem.
Does the story present a unique relationship?	Yes, a girl and her grandmother when the girl is hiding from the grandmother that she’s dying.
Is at least one actual human being opposed to what the hero is doing?	Everyone in the film is opposed to Billi’s wish to tell her grandma.
Does this challenge represent the hero’s greatest hope and/or greatest fear and/or an ironic answer to the hero’s question?	It represents her greatest fear: That’s she’s too American for China but too Chinese for America.
Does something inside the hero have a particularly volatile reaction to the challenge?	On the inside, she’s having a volatile reaction, but she suppresses it all the way through the end of the movie, which is very non-western.
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)?	Lying is easy enough to do, but it’s hard to want to do.  (In the end, it becomes hard to do as well when she must go to great lengths to fake the medical report.)
In the end, is the hero the only one who can solve the problem?	Not at all.  She’s the only one who can stop this, but she chooses not to. And ultimately submitting to the will of the group seems to work.
Does the hero permanently transform the situation and vice versa?	No, she chooses not to transform the situation at all, but it does transform her.
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?	Just slightly.  It intentionally doesn’t deliver the drama it promises because the dam never breaks and the truth never comes out, but along the way it makes us laugh and cry.
Does this story show us at least one image we haven’t seen before (that can be used to promote the final product)?	Not really.
Is there at least one “Holy Crap!” scene (to create word of mouth)?	Not really.  The crazy-wedding-seated-dance-game thing is great trailer-fodder though.
Does the story contain a surprise that is not obvious from the beginning?	Well, the big surprise is that the dam never breaks.
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 19/22
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?)	On the phone with her grandma, she lies that she’s wearing a hat to stay warm enough.  Her grandma then warns her that in New York criminals will rip your earrings right out of your ears.  She signs a petition on the street to save marine life just out of pity for the woman asking for signatures, then has a friendly conversation about how she used to have that job, and admits she quit before she could be fired.
Is the hero defined by ongoing actions and attitudes, not by backstory?	Yes, we never learn much backstory
Does the hero have a well-defined public identity?	Her family has great hopes for her.
Does the surface characterization ironically contrast with a hidden interior self?	She’s hiding the fact that she didn’t get a Guggenheim fellowship and feels like a failure.
Does the hero have a consistent metaphor family (drawn from his or her job, background, or developmental state)?	Sort of, she sounds like a teenager, showing her arrested development.  “Are you always going to live like this?”  “Poor and sexy, I hope so.”  But that amount of personality is atypical.  For the most part, she has little verbal personality.
Does the hero have a default personality trait?	Glum, which is a very alienating trait
Does the hero have a default argument tactic?	Appeal to Western ethical reasoning.  Tell a lot of lies while insisting others tell the truth.
Is the hero’s primary motivation for tackling this challenge strong, simple, and revealed early on?	She loves her grandma and wants to tell her the truth, but ultimately chooses not to.
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 don’t understand, she doesn’t have a lot of time left, she should know, right?”
Does the hero have a false or shortsighted goal in the first half?	Tell her grandma the truth
Does the hero have an open fear or anxiety about his or her future, as well as a hidden, private fear?	She’s worried she’s going nowhere, she’s worried that she’s too Chinese for America and too American for China.
Is the hero physically and emotionally vulnerable?	Emotionally very much so.  The closest she comes to physical vulnerability is when she comes back to her New York apartment and finds a bird inside, despite the fact that no windows are open.  Later, the same thing happens in her China hotel room.
Does the hero have at least one untenable great flaw we empathize with? (but…)	Ultimately the movie flips in the final title card, revealing that her flaw was her self-centered, western urge to tell the truth (which we had perceived to be a strength)
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?	… and that her strength was her willingness to knuckle under (which we had perceived to be a flaw)
Is the hero curious?	Right away, she’s trying to figure out where her Nai Nai really is.  She keeps demanding to know why they’re doing this, trying to understand Chinese logic.
Is the hero generally resourceful?	Not really, but when she finally chooses to act, to fake the medical report, she does manage to summon the resources to do it.
Does the hero have rules he or she lives by (either stated or implied)?	Truth is better than lies, action is better than inaction, the American way is better than the Chinese way.
Is the hero surrounded by people who sorely lack his or her most valuable quality?	No one around her wants to tell the truth.
…And is the hero willing to let them know that, subtly or directly?	Many times
Is the hero already doing something active when we first meet him or her?	Sort of, she’s walking through the streets talking on the cell phone with her grandma.
Does the hero have (or claim) decision-making authority?	Just a bit, in that she chooses to fly to China against their wishes.
Does the hero use pre-established special skills from his or her past to solve problems (rather than doing what anybody would do)?	Not really.  I mean, you could say she uses her writing skills to fake the document, but not really.
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)?	She does not feel at home in America and misses her grandma.
Does this problem become undeniable due to a social humiliation at the beginning of the story?	She gets a letter denying her a fellowship, confirming her fear that she’s not making it on her own.
Does the hero discover an intimidating opportunity to fix the problem?	She finds out that she can to visit China and her grandma, but only on the condition that her hide her grandma’s cancer.
Does the hero hesitate until the stakes are raised?	Her parents try to convince her to not to come, sure that she can’t lie convincingly.
Does the hero commit to pursuing the opportunity by the end of the first quarter?	She buys her own ticket and surprises everybody.
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?	Well, it’s not really unforeseen, but her grandma immediately asks her what’s wrong.  Her grandma tries to teach her a Chinese exercise routine but she resists.
Does the hero try the easy way throughout the second quarter?	She puts on a fake smile and tries to keep quiet.
Does the hero have a little fun and get excited about the possibility of success?	Not really. She tries to relax at a spa, but without much success.
Does the easy way lead to a big crash around the midpoint, resulting in the loss of a safe space and/or sheltering relationship?	Grandma gets sicker and goes to the hospital.
3rd Quarter: Does the hero try the hard way in the third quarter?
Does the hero try the hard way from this point on?	She confronts Grandma’s doctor and tries to convince the family to tell her, but the doctor and her family talk her out of it.
Does the hero find out who his or her real friends and real enemies are?	Her father switches to her side, but is still outvoted.  She feels betrayed by Nai Nai herself, when Nai-Nai’s sister tells her that Nai Nai lied to her husband about his cancer.
Do the stakes, pace, and motivation all escalate at this point?	Sort of.  She confronts her uncle, convinced he’s the ringleader.
Does the hero learn from mistakes in a painful way?	Her uncle convinces her she would have to stay in China to take care of Nai Nai, and she decides to do so…
Does a further setback lead to a spiritual crisis?	…but her mother quickly disabuses her of that notion.  (She can’t cook, clean, or write Chinese.)
4th Quarter: Does the challenge climax in the fourth quarter?
Does the hero adopt a corrected philosophy after the spiritual crisis?	You would think she would say something subtly showing that she’s coming around during her wedding speech, but her speech is unmemorable.  (The closest thing she gets to a corrected statement of philosophy is her final line of the movie where she comes home and shouts “Ha!” using her grandma’s exercise mantra.)
After that crisis, does the hero finally commit to pursuing a corrected goal, which still seems far away?	She happily joins in a drinking game with her family, no longer feeling disconnected from them.
Before the final quarter of the story begins, (if not long before) has your hero switched to being proactive, instead of reactive?	Yes, when…
Despite these proactive steps, is the timeline unexpectedly moved up, forcing the hero to improvise for the finale?	She finds out that her grandma has sent the maid for her test results and goes running out to intercept the maid.  She doctors the results to further the deception.
Do all strands of the story and most of the characters come together for the climactic confrontation?	Very much not.  They all gather to watch the grandma read the faked results, but nobody confronts anybody.
Does the hero’s inner struggle climax shortly after (or possible at the same time as) his or her outer struggle?	She finally tells her Nai Nai one piece of truth, that she didn’t get the fellowship.  They bond as much as they can without the truth of the diagnosis coming out.
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 returns home to New York, feels overwhelmed, then stops on the street and shouts “Ha!”, which she refused to do before.  We then find out that the grandma is still alive six years later.
PART #4: SCENEWORK 15/20 (Finding out about Nai Nai’s diagnosis from her parents)
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 thinks that she’ll find out her dad is sick or drunk.
Does the scene eliminate small talk and repeated beats by cutting out the beginning (or possibly even the middle)?	Not really.  It starts at the beginning.
Is this an intimidating setting that keeps characters active?	She’s just said to her mom, “Mom, if you’re going to give me shit every time I come home, I’m not coming home anymore,” so she feels intimidated there.
Is one of the scene partners not planning to have this conversation (and quite possibly has something better to do)?	The dad doesn’t want to discuss it.
Is there at least one non-plot element complicating the scene?	No.
Does the scene establish its own mini-ticking-clock (if only through subconscious anticipation)?	No.
The Conflict: Do the conflicts play out in a lively manner?
Does this scene both advance the plot and reveal character through emotional reactions?	Yes.
Does the audience have (or develop) a rooting interest in this scene (which may sometimes shift)?	We identify with Billi and want her to find out the truth.
Are two agendas genuinely clashing (rather than merely two personalities)?	Yes.
Does the scene have both a surface conflict and a suppressed conflict (one of which is the primary conflict in this scene)?	Surface: Let me go visit grandma.  Suppressed: I’m not too American for China, or if I am, it’s because American values are better.
Is the suppressed conflict (which may or may not come to the surface) implied through subtext (and/or called out by the other character)?	No, it’s all plainly stated.
Are the characters cagy (or in denial) about their own feelings?	The parents pretend not to be too upset.
Do characters use verbal tricks and traps to get what they want, not just direct confrontation?	Her mom references her dad’s joke, which Billi laughed at before, to mock Billi’s position, which Billi has no response to.
Is there re-blocking, including literal push and pull between the scene partners (often resulting in just one touch)?	There’s reblocking, but nobody touches each other.
Are objects given or taken, representing larger values?	No.
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?	Not yet.  They convince her not to go, but not for long.
Does the outcome of the scene ironically reverse (and/or ironically fulfill) the original intention?	She finds out the truth but humiliates herself in the process, admitting to her powerlessness.
Are previously-asked questions answered and new questions posed?	Answered: What’s going on?  Asked: What will Billi do about it?
Does the scene cut out early, on a question (possibly to be answered instantly by the circumstances of the next scene)?	Ends on: ”If you go now, she will find out right away.”  Is that true?
Is the audience left with a growing hope and/or fear for what might happen next? (Not just in the next scene, but generally)	We wonder if Billi will be able to keep the secret.
PART #5: DIALOGUE 16/16
Empathetic: Is the dialogue true to human nature?
Does the writing demonstrate empathy for all of the characters?	Yes.
Does each of the characters, including the hero, have a limited perspective?	Yes, very much.  Both Nai Nai and Billi have a very limited perspective, in different ways.
Do the characters consciously and unconsciously prioritize their own wants, rather than the wants of others?	It’s about learning to tell the difference.
Are the characters resistant to openly admitting their feelings (to others and even to themselves)?	Very much so.
Do the characters avoid saying things they wouldn’t say and doing things they wouldn’t do?	Yes.
Do the characters interrupt each other often?	Yes.
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?	The two cultures are contrasted in their language.
Are there additional characters with distinct metaphor families, default personality traits, and default argument strategies from the hero’s?	Nai Nai: Metaphor family: chirpy-but-hectoring grandma, personality trait: wants things her way but also wants to keep things pleasant, argument strategy: tell white lies to get what she wants.
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?	Just a bit.
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?	They’re all three-dimensional.  To a certain extent, the mom is head, the father is gut and Billi is heart, but they’re ultimately more complex than that.
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?	Her Nai Nai perceptively sees her problems, and her uncle sees her flaws.
Is exposition withheld until the hero and the audience are both demanding to know it?	There’s no exposition.
Is there one gutpunch scene, where the subtext falls away and the characters really lay into each other?	Sort of with her uncle.
Part #6: Tone 10/10
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?)	Dramedy
Is the story limited to sub-genres that are compatible with each other, without mixing metaphors?	Big-lie family gathering
Does the ending satisfy most of the expectations of the genre, and defy a few others?	It majorly defies expectations.  We’re totally expecting the lies to come out.  But it satisfies a few as well, with heartfelt scenes and laughs.
Separate from the genre, is a consistent mood (goofy, grim, ‘fairy tale’, etc.) established early and maintained throughout?	Unfortunately, like too many indie films, it has a blue filter on it, literally and figuratively.  I guess you could say the mood is “indie.”  Mood is the movie’s biggest flaw.
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?	Well, we’re primed for the lie to come out, and, whether or not it does, for her to die, but neither comes.  But the movie is structured around the trip and does end when the trip ends.
Does the story use framing devices to establish genre, mood and expectations?	We begin with an intercut phone call between Nai Nai and Billi, establishing the worlds.  The first shot is a picture of a beautiful Chinese landscape, but then we realize it’s just a picture in a hospital, establishing the idea of lies and masking illness.
Are there characters whose situations prefigure various fates that might await the hero?	Yes, some of the family members seem to have found success either by leaving or staying in China and others seem to have failed by doing one or the other, so lots of possible fates.
Does foreshadowing create anticipation and suspense (and refocus the audience’s attention on what’s important)?	The doctor says that they lied to his mother about her cancer but she died shortly thereafter.
Are reversible behaviors used to foreshadow and then confirm change?	She switches to joining in the deception, she switches to telling the truth about her fellowship.
Is the dramatic question answered at the very end of the story?	Yes, we see that the lie doesn’t come out, Billi doesn’t tell the truth, and Nai Nai doesn’t die.
PART 7: THEME 13/14
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?	Is it better (and healthier) to live a happy lie or an unhappy truth?
Is a thematic question asked out loud (or clearly implied) in the first half, and left open?	”She should know, right?”
Do the characters consistently have to choose between goods, or between evils, instead of choosing between good and evil?	She keeps being put in moral dilemmas in China.
Grounded: Do the stakes ring true to the world of the audience?
Does the story reflect the way the world works?	Yes, it’s a true story.
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)?	Very much so, it’s based on a true story of the filmmaker’s visit to China and shows many authentic things she noticed.  (I mean, it certainly never comes up that this is a dictatorship, and they probably wouldn’t have been able to shoot there if they had mentioned that, but it still has a lot to say about the nature of modern China without mentioning that very big elephant in the room)
Does the story include twinges of real life national pain?	Hints of it for both countries.
Are these issues and the overall dilemma addressed in a way that avoids moral hypocrisy?	Well, not really, because dictatorship is never mentioned.
Do all of the actions have real consequences?	Yes, but not what we expect.  Inaction ends up with positive consequences.
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?	There are dozens of little lies that both Nai Nai and Billi tell that are counterpointed with the big lie that the other family members are telling Nai Nai.
Are one or more objects representing larger ideas exchanged throughout the story, growing in meaning each time?	When she chooses to join the lie, it’s in the form of an object she has to forge with difficulty.
Untidy: Is the dilemma ultimately irresolvable?
Does the ending tip towards one side of the thematic dilemma without resolving it entirely?	Happy lie is seemingly better, but we’re not sure of that.
Does the story’s outcome ironically contrast with the initial goal?	She doesn’t achieve her original goal of telling the truth and decides it was better not to.
In the end, is the plot not entirely tidy (some small plot threads left unresolved, some answers left vague)?	It’s very untidy.  We never find out if Billi finds a way to make it in NYC, etc.
Do the characters refuse (or fail) to synthesize the meaning of the story, forcing the audience to do that?	Yes.

Final Score: 106 out of 122

Episode 21: Franchise Finales with Jonathan Auxier

The Secrets of Story Podcast · Episode 21: Franchise Finales

Hi guys! We will get back to non-podcast related material soon, but first let’s do another episode, featuring returning guest Jonathan Auxier, who wanted to stop by and talk about franchise finales, because he’s preparing to write one himself. It’s another long one!

By the way, I can’t believe I failed to bring up “Avatar: The Last Airbender” at any point! Definitely one of the all-time great American sagas with one of the all-time great finales, very much in the same vein as Return of the Jedi in terms of rising above the idea of killing the bad guy. It’s funny that “Game of Thrones” has so much sex and violence but is ultimately a pretty juvenile series, while ATLA is appropriate for four year olds, but is 10x more emotionally mature and sophisticated than GOT.

UPDATE: Jonathan wanted to add this, which, as you’ll see why, I’m more than happy to include:

• After we finished recording, I realized that Matt had made a pretty genius observation on this topic that passed without much comment. Matt is 100% right that beheading Thanos in the first 5 minutes of ENDGAME was an attack on unhealthy audience appetites. The moment was especially jarring because virtually every other installment in the Avengers franchise had basically ended with “punch the villain into submission” as the final solution (which might explain why I haven’t liked earlier installments in the series). ENDGAME changes everything. It serves up violence right at the beginning ... but instead of solving things, it makes everything worse! That single move accomplishes so much in terms of plot and theme. It’s a huge escalation -- suddenly our heroes are encountering a problem that violence can't solve. It creates enormous uncertainty in both the audience and characters. AND it’s retraining our palates to crave deeper truth (what we need) rather than simplistic fighting (what we want). In the big finale, the movie is smart enough to give us some epic fighting. But all of that noise falls away for the true climax: Tony Stark's sacrifice. Killing off such a beloved character should incite riot -- but we accept it because we’ve seen where the simplistic solution lands us. Even better, Tony Stark in that moment is really reflecting the growth that the audience has experienced over the course of the movie. We’re right there with him as he realizes that this is not a problem he can laser-blast his way out of. The climax of ENDGAME isn’t happy; but it is deeply satisfying. And in the long run, that’s much more important.  

I agree with Jonathan: I’m awesome. 

I especially like in Endgame how Thanos is about to make some profound moral ruminations on his genocide and we in the audience are thinking “fuck this guy and his profundity!  He killed billions of people!”  Then Thor just chops his head off before he can finish his point and we’re like “Oh hell yeah” ...but then it’s instantly unsatisfying. 

Oh, and Jonathan, one more piece of advice: Don't overdo the loss-for-loss’s-sake in the final book.  The one thing I really hate about the Harry Potter books is that they killed off Fred in the finale, which felt like “final book sense of loss” just for the sake of “final book sense of loss”.  I think Rowling felt like “I’m killing off many beloved characters, but I need one that’ll really hurt even more than the others” and it was just too much.  It ruins the other books as you reread then, knowing how tragically things will turn out for Fred and even moreso for George, losing his twin.  You don’t kill off the comic relief!

(When I read the books to my daughter, I meant to cut out that death, but it snuck up on me.  Now that I’m reading them to my son, I’ll figure out how to snip it out.)

Episode 20: The Man Who Won the War

The Secrets of Story Podcast · Episode 20: The Man Who Won the War

Oh dear god, people, it’s a new episode of the podcast just one week after the last one! Is this new normal? No, it isn’t! There almost certainly won’t be a new episode next week. But hey, it’s kinda fun, isn’t it?

In this episode we ask a basic question: Do writers lose something when they actually learn to write like a professional?  To answer it, we delve into my tragic origin story.  We spend this episode discussing my 2004 biopic-script about Alan Turing, The Man Who Won the War, and comparing it to the unrelated 2014 biopic that actually got made, The Imitation Game. If you want to read my script, you can download it here, but I think you can enjoy the episode just fine whether or not you do so.

Meanwhile, let me say a word about the ads. I joined the IFH podcast network with the understanding that we would have two ads at the very beginning and two ads at the very end, but the deal has unfortunately changed. It’s not Alex’s fault: just this week, he was as surprised as I was when our host Spreaker announced that, from now on, they’ll demand one ad for every ten minutes of podcast! For our shorter episodes, those ads at the beginning and end have it covered. For most of our episodes, which are 50-something minutes, I’ve added an ad between the ending music and the closing spiel, but for our longest episodes, like Laika, I’ve had to add a ton of ads interrupting me and James. I’m sorry about this and Alex is sorry about this. This was not supposed to happen.

(This is why they were inserting a random ad interrupted us at the 2 minute mark on some epsiodes. Well, those ads are gone, but only because I’ve replaced them elsewhere.)

Right away, this is an issue, because this episode is 74 minutes, and I really don’t want the ads to interrupt us. So I recorded a version of this spiel at the beginning and then pause for two more ads before we get started.

Episode 19: Alienation and Identification

The Secrets of Story Podcast · Episode 19: Alienation and Identification

Hey, guys, check it out, it’s our first episode on the IFH Podcast Network! New Music! New Art! An Ending Spiel! And easily skippable ads at the very beginning and end! James and I discuss “Believe, Care, Invest” vs. “Connect, Care, Commit” and quickly find ourselves discussing the weightier topic of whether authors overvalue identification and neglect the value of alienation. And, of course, James adds an 8th and 9th “E”.

Update: An extra ad is playing two minutes into every episode, interrupting us, but I’m trying to fix that!

Connect Care Commit: Sunset Boulevard

Our final movie! Next up: TV. I’ve realized that “Convince” doesn’t work because it’s referring to what the writer does, but not what the reader is supposed to do.

Why it might be hard to identify with Joe:

• He’s miserable and maybe just doesn’t have what it takes. We believe Betty that he really doesn’t deserve the living he’s trying to make. In many ways, it’s only his self-deprecating voice-over that makes him sympathetic. Without it, he’d be pretty unbearable.

Connect

• The details of the business are convincing: “Pretty simple to shoot, lots of outdoors stuff.”

Care

• In the present, he’s been murdered. In the past, he’s broke and rejected by the world. He hears what Betty thinks of his script when she doesn’t realize he’s in the room. “It’s from hunger…A rehash of something that wasn’t very good to begin with.” When she meets him she says, “I’d always heard that you had some talent.” He replies, “That was last year, this year I’m trying to earn a living.”

Commit

• He’s got a funny voice-over. He says of his own dead body, floating in a pool: “Poor dope, he always wanted a pool.” As he calls around for money, he tells us “I talked to a couple of ‘yes men’ at Metro. To me, they all said no.” He gets in a car chase to save his car (and livelihood), so that’s always likeable.

Five Es

• Eat: No.
• Exercise: No.
• Economic Activity: He’s desperately trying to get a job.
• Enjoy: No.
• Emulate: He tries talking like a producer around the producers, to no avail.

Rise above

• He’s desperate for any job. Even when he finally starts trying to get out from under his new boss, at the midpoint, it’s so he can work on a spec script with Betty. Only at the end does he decide to move back home and try to get his old reporter job back ...but it’s too late. 

High five a black guy

• Nope

Kind

• Nope


Connect Care Commit: Star Wars

Why it might be hard to identify with Luke:

• We don’t meet him until 16 minutes in! (because his early scenes were deleted.) Then, when we do meet him, he’s whiny and petulant (though James Kennedy disagrees: 1, 2, 3)

Connect

• The first 16 minutes are all about creating a thoroughly convincing world with its own bizarre logic and a wealth of detail. The grime and focus on economic activity is convincing (Wait, should the first C be Convince?? That’s worth thinking about!)

Care

• We bristle for him when his uncle tells him, “You can waste time with your friends when your chores are done, now get to it.” We feel for him when he says, “If there’s a bright center on the universe, you’re on the planet it’s farthest from.” We agree with his aunt when she tries to tell his uncle that he should be a fighter pilot and not a farmer. Ultimately, we care the most when he looks off into the distance at the two suns with yearning on his face. That’s really a CCC moment.

Commit

• In the deleted scenes he was the only one on the planet monitoring the action above (Knowledge of above and below is always likeable), but that’s gone. In what we see, he knows what’s wrong with the red robot. He does a good job taking care of the droids. We admire his wiliness in negotiating with his uncle.

Five Es

• Eat: Blue milk!
• Exercise: Not really. He jogs a bit back and forth to the robots.
• Economic Activity: Tons of it.
• Enjoy: In the deleted scenes, we got to see him hang out with his friends
• Emulate: He plays with a toy plane.

Rise above

• Subconsciously, he knows he's putting his job at risk by removing the inhibitor bolt to see more of the princess. He ditches out on his job to chase after R2, but that’s still just to keep his boss/uncle happy. He doesn’t really rise above his job until everybody’s dead.

High five a black guy

• Nope

Kind

• He shows empathy toward the robots.

Connect Care Commit: The Silence of the Lambs

Why it might be hard to identify with Clarice:

• No reason. She’s very easy to identify with.

Connect

• She moves through several layers of FBI headquarters and it’s a very convincing world. Lecter notes many oddly specific things about her. He sniffs her and says, “Sometimes you wear L’Air du Temps, but not today.”

Care

• We feel for her when she has to ride in an elevator where everybody is taller than her, then when she’s ushered out of a room where they’re discussing Buffalo Bill. Chilton hits on her, humiliating her. She realizes that she’s been chosen because of her looks. Lecter insults her in lots of ways.

Commit

• She runs past signs that say Hurt, Agony, Pain, Love It, which is pretty bad-ass. We admire that she stands up to Crawford and Chilton in little ways. We admire her for doing a good job sparring with Lecter. Lecter calls her slippery, which is a nice compliment. We admire her for admitting what Miggs said to her.

Five Es

• Eat: Never
• Exercise: She’s running through a rigorous ropes course when we first meet her.
• Economic Activity: She’s never not working.
• Enjoy: Not really. She seems to enjoy her work well enough, but she’s pretty serious about it.
• Emulate: She’s trying to act like an experienced FBI agent.

Rise above

• She’ll break orders halfway in, but only so that she can do her job better than her boss.

High five a black guy:

• She does indeed high five a black girl we rarely see again. (We find out in the deleted scenes that it’s her roommate)

Kind

• “You grilled me pretty hard on the Bureau’s civil right record in the Hoover years.”

Connect Care Commit: Sideways

Why it might be hard to identify with Miles:

• He’s a drunk, a liar and a loser. When we first meet him, he realizes he’s late, calls someone and says, “I’m out the door right now,” then sits idly reading on the toilet. Then he does the New York Times crossword as he drives down the highway! When he finally arrives, he lies about the freeway being bumper to bumper. Then he drinks wine with Jack while driving. Then we get to the big one: He stops by his lonely mother’s house just to steal her cash, then sneaks away before the brunch she planned!

Connect:

• Okay guys, this has been brewing in the comments for a while, but I think it’s time to deal with it: There’s often a difference between Believe (the old version) and Connect (the new version), and I think they’re both valuable. The reasons we believe in Miles and the reasons we connect with him are different. Why do we believe in him? Well, for many of the reasons listed above. That wealth of despicable behavior creates a compelling and believable portrait of a pathetic person. (Boldly pathetic in some ways, which is oddly endearing.)
• But it feels odd to say that any of these are reasons to connect with him. We don’t connect with these horrible traits.
• There are some things he does that are less horrible that do make us connect. When he goes in to see his mother and signs the card and seals the envelope on his knee while he’s approaching the door, I thought, “Ah, I’ve done that, I connect with that.”

Care

• Jack’s new father-in-law congratulates Miles on publishing his novel when he hasn’t actually sold it, then says: “I like non-fiction. You read something someone just invented? Waste of time.”
• At his mom’s house, Miles is heartbroken to see that she still has a picture of him on his wedding day to his ex-wife. His mom then tells him: “You should get back together with Victoria. She was good for you. And so beautiful and so intelligent. I’m worried about you, Miles, you need somebody.” Jack tells him the next morning: “You have been officially depressed for two years now. You still seeing that shrink?” Miles replies, “I saw him on Monday. I spent most of the time helping him with his computer.”
• He gives Jack an expert wine tasting lesson, then realizes Jack’s been chewing gum the whole time. We share Miles’s exasperation.

Commit:

• We envy (and somewhat pity) his wine expertise. “I like all varietals, I just don’t generally like the way they manipulate Chardonnay in California, too much oak and secondary melolactic fermentation.”
• I think the #1 thing that makes us like Miles is when he’s sniffing the wine and holds his hand up to his ear so he can smell it better. It’s so absurd that it’s endearing.
• Miles has a somewhat healthier attitude towards hook-ups than Jack does: “It’s not worth it. You pay too big a price. It’s never free.” This causes us to commit to him, not Jack.

Five Es

• Eat: He eats and drinks a ton.
• Exercise: Not at all.
• Economic Activity: No, we don’t even know he’s a teacher until later. I suppose stealing from his mom counts as economic activity?
• Enjoy: He enjoys wine more than we’ve ever seen anyone enjoy wine before.
• Emulate: Not that I can see.

Rise above

• Well, he ditches out on his life for a week to go on vacation, but it’s not clear he had any way he would have been making money (He presumably has the summer off from teaching?)

High five a black guy

• Nope

Kind

• Not at all.

The Podcast is Updated!

Have you ever thought, “I love the Secrets of Story Podcast, but I wish it had ads”? Well, good news, now your dream has come true! But don’t worry, it’s just two 30 second ads at the beginning and two at the end, all easily skippable!

Don’t worry folks, this is good news for you. The ads are there because we’re now members of the IFH Podcast network. You may recall that I was recently a guest on Alex Ferrari’s “Bulletproof Screenwriting” Podcast. We got along great, and decided to pool our podcasting resources!

So how does this benefit you? Well, for one thing, Alex is going to want us to post more often, so you’ll get more of the podcast. Second, James agreed to go along with this plan on two conditions: He wanted new art and new music. Well, now we have both!

If you were reading last week, you saw my lame attempts at art, and then you saw in the comments that a commenter named Jessica Friday offered help. I shared the first art she did, which we loved, and which started a conversation. I can now share the art that ultimately resulted, which I am happy to announce is the new (and retroactive) art for this blog. We love it!

But wait, there’s more! How many times has James complained on air about our old music? I’ll tell you: It’s five times. I know because I just had to cut them all out, because I removed that music from all 18 podcasts and added our new amazing theme music. Big-deal composer Haddon Kime (who had already graciously donated a piece of music to my wife’s podcast) agreed to compose an original theme for us as well, and it’s great. Haddon asked what we wanted and James ambitiously asked for “John Williams meets Danny Elfman”. Well, Haddon was actually up to that monumental task, and knocked it out of the park.

Each episode now begins with two ads, then the “bump” announcing the podcast network, then us welcoming you to the show, then Haddon’s amazing theme! And each episode now ends with a final flourish of the theme and then a spiel about liking and subscribing, etc.

Oh, and if you listen to the bit at the end, you’ll see that I did get the show an accursed Twitter handle. We’re @SecretsOfStory1. Which I will probably never use.  Check it all out here:
Listen to "Episode 1: Channeling Master Thespian" on Spreaker.

Connect Care Commit: The Shining

Why it might be hard to identify with these heroes

• It’s unclear who the hero is. We meet Jack and Danny separately. Jack seems insincere (but we all do in job interviews). He doesn’t seem to genuinely care if his wife or son will like living there. Jack enjoys telling his son about the Donner Party in a sadistic way. Danny, meanwhile, is five and lacks agency.

Connect

• Danny’s imaginary friend Tony in his finger is fascinating and something we haven’t seen before. We’ve also never seen a family in this situation before, and the copious details of the job interview makes this extreme situation believable.

Care

• We always feel sympathy for kids who are being forced to move. Then, of course, Danny has a flash of blood pouring out of elevators and creepy little girls, so now we’re terrified for everybody.

Commit

• Tony knows that Jack is about to call and say he got the job, so we can see that he has magic powers, which we know will come in handy. We kind of admire Jack for quitting drinking, I guess, but for the most part we don’t trust or commit to him, which makes the movie alienating because he’s pretty clearly the main character.

Five Es

• Eat: Jack accepts coffee in the job interview. Danny is eating a sandwich.
• Exercise: Never for Jack. We eventually see Danny pedaling around the hotel on his Big Wheel, but not for a while.
• Economic Activity: Jack is in a job interview.
• Enjoy: Danny sort of enjoys big-wheeling around, but not much. He seems to enjoy doing the hedge maze with his mom. Jack never seems to enjoy himself.
• Emulate: Jack is pretending to be a family man. Danny is pretending to be normal.

Rise above

• Jack will eventually abandon his responsibilities in the name of a, um, higher calling.

High five a black guy

• They eventually meet a friendly cook.

Kind

• No, neither Jack nor Danny.

Connect Care Commit: Rushmore

So what do we think about the new language? I’m kinda digging it.

Why it might be hard to identify with Max

• He’s dorky. He’s an asshole to his only friend (and only really friends with him because he has the hots for the kid’s mother.)

Connect

• We always bond with people when a vainglorious fantasy is contrasted with a humble reality. He imagines himself as a beloved math class hero, then wakes up to his unpopular status.  It’s always easier to believe in heroes with consistent tactics: He’s told he’ll be kicked out of the school if he fails another class and his friend asks him what he’s going to do. He replies, “The only thing I can do: try to pull some strings with the administration.”

Care

• He’s naïve, with idealistic delusions of grandeur, which can be touching. He’s getting kicked out of his beloved school. He briefly loses his bluster when he weakly asks, “Couldn’t you just let me float by, for old times’ sake?”, only to hear “Can’t do it, Max.”

Commit

• Only he claps for Mr. Bloom’s “Take down the rich kids” speech. We admire his drive: He’s part of a dozen clubs, most of which he founded or leads. He’s adorably precocious: He got into Rushmore in 2nd grade by writing a play, “a little one-act about Watergate.” 

Five Es

• Eat: No.
• Exercise: He’s on the track team and we see him running.
• Economic Activity: He’s disconnected from economics.
• Enjoy: He enjoys his clubs, but not wildly. He always looks a little stoic. He really enjoys the speech.
• Emulate: He wants to be Herman.

Rise above:

• Just the opposite: He considers himself above economics until late in the movie when he learns to respect that his father has to work for a living. (And realizes how valuable his scholarship was.)

High five a black guy:

• Nope.

Kind:

• Not really.

Connect Care Commit: Selma

Why it might be hard to identify with MLK:

• He never really has that “I thought that person was waving at me but they’re really waving at someone else” moment. We never break through his monumental edifice. It’s hard to take a figure like King and say, “No, he’s just like us, folks!”, and the movie opts not to do that. It has to get us to Connect, Care and Commit without asking us to fully identify with him.

Connect

• He starts out giving his Nobel speech, then we see that he’s practicing in a mirror and getting annoyed by his ascot. “Wait till the brothers back home see me like this, they’ll have a good laugh.” Prep moments always help us connect.

Care

• He talks about his retirement but we know he won’t get to do that. We then get intimate glimpses of the horrors he’s fighting: We bond with four little girls talking about hair before they get blown up, then we experience the indignity of Annie Cooper being turned away from voting. (“How many county judges in Alabama? Name them.”) LBJ subtly belittles him. We get snippets of FBI reports on him. He gets cold-cocked as soon as he arrives in Selma.

Commit

• He gives a hell of a speech. He bravely confronts the president and refuses to be cowed. We quickly realize that he’s much more cunning than he lets on. “Big speech lined up for these folks tonight, doc?” “We need to see what’s what first, big fella. We’re just here to test the waters.” After he’s hit, he slyly smiles and says to his lieutenants, “This place is perfect.”

Five Es

• Eat: He lets LBJ pour him some tea or coffee, but he doesn’t drink it.  He later sits down for a good meal when he arrives at a volunteer’s house. 
• Exercise: Never. I think it would have been good to see some, but it might have been ahistorical to include it.
• Economic Activity: No, we’re never sure where the money’s coming from. We never see him preach to his own congregation.
• Enjoy: We get to see from afar him playing football with his kids in his yard, but we’re with Coretta who is upset while watching them. I’d rather be there with him as he does it. Later, he calls Mahalia Jackson and asks her to sing to him, but he doesn’t really seem to enjoy it. We find out from Hoover halfway through King’s been committing adultery, but the movie never shows us that onscreen.
• Emulate: He feels like he’s playing dress-up when he wears an ascot to accept his Nobel.

Rise above

• His job is saintly, so it’d be pretty hard to rise above it! There’s certainly never an “I quit” moment.

High five a black guy

• Not an issue.

Kind

• He is goodness personified (or seems to be until we hear that tape), but there’s not really a moment of him doing a specific act of compassion to a specific person.

Connect Care Commit: Raising Arizona

Why it might be hard to identify with Hi:

• He’s a loser. He’s a baby-stealer.

Connect

• He’s got a scar, which always helps us believe in the reality of a character. He wears distinctive Hawaiian shirts. He has a unique, unexpected metaphor family right away, telling Ed, “You’re a flower, a desert flower.” Later he uses the unique word “motherscratcher.” He certainly has opinions, “Wasn’t easy with that sumbitch Reagan in the White House”

Care

• Hi keeps getting arrested. We feel for him when an inmate snarls at him. When he falls in love, he can say he “finally felt the pain of imprisonment.” Even when he gets out and gets a job, he says “Most ways, the job was a lot like prison.” When he finds out he can’t have children, the gynecologist showing them female anatomy smiles at them, showing no sympathy for their pain. He says, “I preminisced no return of the salad days. The pizazz had gone out of our lives.” We share his exasperation and embarrassment when he can’t keep control of the babies. We feel for him when Ed tells him, “Don’t you come back here without a baby.”

Commit

• During a robbery, he cocks a shotgun like a badass. We admire his brazenness hitting on Ed while she’s booking him. At his job, he’s drilling holes in sheet metal, which is always bad-ass.   

Five Es

• Eat: Not at all
• Exercise: Well, he runs into and out of stores.
• Economic Activity: “Sometimes your career’s gotta come before family.”
• Enjoy: Has a lot of sex with Ed.
• Emulate: He tries to emulate a clean-living family man. He tries to take the place of Nathan Arizona.

Rise above

• He decides to put family ahead of his crime career after all. “I couldn’t help thinking at a brighter future lied ahead.” “That ain’t me anymore.”

High five a black guy

• He bonds enough with his cellie to hear, “When there was no meat, we ate fowl, when there was no fowl, we ate crawdads…”

Kind:

•  He’s very caring towards Ed.

Connect Care Commit: The Fugitive

Yes, I’m trying out Connect Care Commit instead of Believe Care Invest, just to see how it feels! I can’t decide.

Why Richard might be hard to identify with:

• He’s dour socially, and that’s never the most likable trait. He’s naïve and hapless in dealing with the police. He gives a fellow doctor advice on his golf swing, which is kinda Trumpy. He’s mumbly and never shows a lot of verbal skill in the movie. His wife is rich and he has a maid.

Connect

• He feels human when he says about himself in a tux: “I always feel like I look like a waiter or something.” When he realizes they’re accusing him of killing his wife, Ford gives a great, very human reaction of “How dare you?” (but a lesser actor could have given a bad reading of that line.)
• When he comes home, and doesn’t know his wife is dying upstairs, he calls out, “Honey I’m home—Who won the game?” Always have them planning to have another conversation.
• The way the 911 call goes down, we can see how it would naturally create the false impression that he did it. This is a believable miscarriage of justice.
• I love that even though we get a quick precis of the trial, we see more than one prosecutor, which is how it would be with a major case.

Care

• He has to work when he’d rather go home with his wife.
• Always the ultimate “misunderstood” moment: He gets false accused, arrested, and sentenced to execution.

Commit

• Just a bit. He certainly behaves heroically in the prison escape and train accident, but we don’t have much opportunity to commit before that.

Five Es

• Eat: Not really. Gets some wine out of the fridge and brings it up to his wife.
• Exercise: Not until chased, then nothing but.
• Economic Activity: He’s at a work function, then he’s called in to the hospital on the way home. The news reporter tells us he’s a “respected vascular surgeon.”
• Enjoy: He’s at a party, but doesn’t enjoy it. Nevertheless, he tells his wife, “You look beautiful tonight.”
• Emulate: Not that I can tell. James?

Rise above

• Well, he gets fired, but he never stops thinking like a doctor and relying on the hospital.  He pointedly never rises above his job.

High five a black guy

• He saves a black guard’s life. “Give me a hand with this man!”

Compassion

• He tries to save the guard. He lets another convict escape along with him, but he says, “Hey Copeland, be good.”

Storyteller's Rulebook: Create a False Mystery

I haven’t mentioned it in years, but one of the two screenplays I got that won some money and got me signed by a big-deal manager was my biopic of Alan Turing. It had a lot of big fans in Hollywood but they said they couldn’t make it because Turing was gay, so my manager gave up on it. A few years later, social mores had changed, and another Turing script went out, which sold for a million dollars and won an Oscar. Oh, well.

When I was structuring the script, I decided to play a trick. My script covered many years and ended with my hero’s suicide, which is kind of a bummer. I decided to begin with the discovery of his body and have a government investigator suspect foul play and reconstruct the story of Turing’s life. In the end: Nope, it was just a suicide. But the false mystery provided more structure than the script would have had otherwise.

“Little Fires Everywhere” does a similar thing. The Richardson house has burned down and everybody naturally suspects daughter Izzy, who has disappeared.

• “What’s so funny?” Lexie said.
• “Just picturing Izzy running around striking matches everywhere.” He snorted. “The nutcase.”
• Moody drummed a finger on the roof rack. “Why is everybody so sure she did it?”
• “Come on.” Trip jumped down off the car. “It’s Izzy. And we’re all here. Mom’s here. Dad’s on his way. Who’s missing?”
• “So Izzy’s not here. She’s the only one who could be responsible?”
• “Responsible?” put in Lexie. “Izzy?”
• “Dad was at work,” Trip said. “Lexie was at Serena’s. I was over at Sussex playing ball. You?”
• Moody hesitated. “I biked over to the library.”
• “There. You see?” To Trip, the answer was obvious. “The only ones here were Izzy and Mom. And Mom was asleep.”
• “Maybe the wiring in the house shorted. Or maybe someone left the stove on.”
• “The firemen said there were little fires everywhere,” Lexie said. “Multiple points of origin. Possible use of accelerant. Not an accident.”
• “We all know she’s always been mental.” Trip leaned back against the car door.
• “You’re all always picking on her,” Moody said. “Maybe that’s why she acts mental.”
• Across the street, the fire trucks began to reel in their hoses. The three remaining Richardson children watched the firemen set down their axes and peel away their smoky yellow coats.
• “Someone should go over and stay with Mom,” Lexie said, but no one moved.
• After a minute, Trip said, “When Mom and Dad find Iz, they are going to lock her up in a psych ward for the rest of her life.”
• No one thought about the recent departure of Mia and Pearl from the house on Winslow Road.

We already sense that Moody is, in some ways, smarter than his brother and sister, and he has his doubts about Izzy. Then Ng points out that nobody has connected the fire yet to the disappearance of two more people: Mia and Pearl. The implication is clear: Izzy probably didn’t do it, and the reader is invited to spend the book trying to guess the real culprit.

And in the end, we find out the culprit is… Izzy, working alone, who went around the house starting little fires everywhere, just as Lexie and Trip assumed. It was a false mystery, tricking us into reading avidly. 

 
But ultimately it’s fair, for the same reason my own false mystery was fair, because Turing ultimately was sort of murdered by a larger conspiracy, and lots more people were ultimately responsible for the complex chain of events that led Izzy to start the fires. It turns out to be worthwhile, in both stories, to closely examine the events leading up to this tragedy to discover the complex web of ill-will that led up to it. 

 
Both stories are fairly diffuse, and brought into sharper relief by beginning with a flash-forward and a false mystery. It’s a devious trick, but I recommend it with some stories.