[Journal] The Sort of Story I Want To Tell
I’ve been reflecting, following the Lost premiere last night, about why some stories are so captivating while others are so forgettable. Lost is just one of a series of stories that have managed to build up an impressive following despite being complex and different. In the 1990s, The X-Files experienced a similar phenomenon. I’ve also realized that the Harry Potter books, the first Matrix film, the first season of Twin Peaks and even the original Star Wars trilogy have managed to achieve similar success.
But what is it about these stories that has made them so popular? It boils down to the following common elements:
1) The presence of an overpowering element. In Lost, it’s the frustration of trying to get off an island populated by seemingly evil forces. In Star Wars, it’s the evil galactic empire and the dark side of the Force. In The Matrix, it’s the presence of the enslaving machines. In The X-Files, it’s the government. In Harry Potter, it’s Voldemort. All of these stories have not just a great villain, but a real sense that this villain (or evil power) cannot be defeated without great perseverance.
2) Everyman heroes. In each of these stories, the heroes are just normal people who are trying to stand up against a great force. By persevering, these heroes can achieve some sort of power (or knowledge), but they are never strong enough, on their own, to defeat the evil power entirely. These heroes also tend to be morally good, though that is not necessarily a requirement.
3) A secret world. Even in a fantasy world (such as the fantasy galaxy of Star Wars), some secret sub-world must exist. In Lost, the secret world revolves around the cult of the Island. In Star Wars, it revolves around the Jedi and Sith. In The X-Files, it revolves around those who have some knowledge of “truth”. In The Matrix, it revolves around hackers who are jacked out of the central network. The sub-world is what the story is able to use to not only reveal key elements of the story, but also what the story uses to elevate the heroes above their everyman status.
4) Unknown story elements that result in mystery. These might be secrets that are being intentionally kept from the characters, or they might be knowledge of the villain’s motivation, the nature of the evil force, or the true power of the secret world. Revealing these secrets must be done in a careful, metered way, though the longer the mystery exists, the more effective it will be at keeping the reader hooked.
5) Plot twists that change the audience’s perception of the story. Plot twists, when employed correctly, can give a story new life. Lost has been notable in that it has introduced plot twists in every season that have changed the very nature of the show. The original Star Wars trilogy offered one major plot twist per episode that changed the face of how the characters would react: Obi-Wan Kenobi’s death, the revelation that Darth Vader was Anakin Skywalker, and the revelation that Luke was fighting not just for his noble cause, but also to protect his secret sister. The X-Files had plot twists that would confirm Mulder and Scully’s quest, only to frustrate them even more when the evidence vanished. The audience was left with a deeper understanding of the story while the characters were bolstered in their attempts to uncover the truth.
6) A very deliberate structure that never allows the heroes to triumph until the very end. This is, perhaps, the most important aspect of telling this sort of story, and it’s actually the reason why the Star Wars prequel trilogy, the two Matrix sequels and the second season of Twin Peaks and the resulting movie weren’t able to achieve the same sort of success as their predecessors.
The structure is very similar to what you see in the original Star Wars trilogy, and it can be remembered by considering the titles of the film. The first film, Star Wars: A New Hope introduces the element of conflict with some glimmer of optimism. The second film, The Empire Strikes Back, results in the overpowering force defeating the heroes and preventing them from prevailing. The final film, The Return of the Jedi, puts the heroes in a last-ditch effort to overcome incredible odds so that they can finally defeat the villain and the evil power behind him.
Now, look at the prequel trilogy and you can see how this structure was employed incorrectly. The first film was titled The Phantom Menace, indicating that the evil power had yet to become overpowering or dangerous. The second film was titled Attack of the Clones, but the third was titled Revenge of the Sith. The conflict of these two films should have been reversed. George Lucas would have been much better off to ditch the first film, begin the new series in the midst of the Clone Wars, have the Sith return and overpower the Republic in the second episode, and then be defeated by the tragic figure of the ends-justify-the-means Anakin Skywalker, who becomes Darth Vader in the process of putting the evil Palpatine (himself a Sith) in greater power.
The Matrix told its story incorrectly as well. The correct structure would have been to kill Neo at the end of the second film and then have him return in the third with a greater knowledge of who he was, allowing the humans and machines to fight the greater menace of Agent Smith. Instead, the second Matrix film decided to info-dump the audience and remove the magic of the story with a bewildering scene that gave answers no one was ready to hear.
Even Lost, which has managed to string its story along so well, has struggled with story arcs that waste characters and provide unneeded information. Charlie, a fan favorite, is probably one of the most wasted characters in the series. He was made into a pseudo-villain during the second season, and then killed off in a meaningless sacrifice in the third. Other characters, such as Sayid, were changed later in the series in the name of plot twists, but these twists were neither necessary nor appealing to most viewers.
Anyhow, the story with the elements above — that is the sort of story I want to write. Three times, to be precise — on three different projects I’ve been working on. Now that I’ve been able to identify these elements, I think I’m in much better shape to incorporate them. The next step is to work on my revisions.
Journal, Non-Fiction | SeanJJordan | 
February 4, 2010 12:28 am
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By Collin Voyles, February 4, 2010 @ 7:17 am
Now I disagree that Charlie’s death was pointless. By that point in the series they had basically explored everything that they could with that character and his death was an interesting if not noble death to a redeemed person. In a series like LOST where you have a lot of different characters, their stories have to be in flux or else the audience loses interest. Once you know all that there is to know about Hurley he kind of becomes boring, so something has to change. Sometimes all it takes is putting the character into a new position and see how their personality reacts to it. All I’m saying is that writing for an episodic television story is different than writing for a book or a movie.
By SeanJJordan, February 4, 2010 @ 11:01 am
There are certainly many challenges to writing for TV, chief among them the fact that actors have agendas and careers of their own (which was the case with the actor who plays Charlie).
But, from a narrative point of view, Charlie was only occasionally used properly. Remember those dreadful episodes where he decided that he and Locke were now enemies because of some stupid altercation involving Clare’s baby? Right. And there were also those bizarre sequences where Desmond was trying to keep Charlie from dying for… what purpose, exactly? Pretty much just to add to the artificial drama needed to keep the third season going while an end date was set. Even Charlie’s death didn’t make much sense in the context of the narrative. If you go back and watch the scene, you really have to ask yourself why he couldn’t have just let the place flood and swam out with Desmond. It was a wasted opportunity.