Sometimes the results are well worth the effort. Really really worth it, like The Dark Knight or The Incredibles. Sometimes the results are absolutely horrible, like Daredevil or the more recent Iron Man 2 movie. What gives? Clearly they cover the same material. What is it that sets The Incredibles apart from other comic-book style films like the original Superman or Jaws where defeating the bad guy was everything?

Some Pretty Incredible Storytelling

Is every superhero story really about beating the bad guy? Brad Bird wouldn't have you think so. In his masterful The Incredibles, Bob and friends pair off against the measly and less-than-incredible Syndrome. In the end, they defeat him, bringing the story to a resounding triumphant success. But does defeating him really solve their problems? Is the problem that there is this well-funded wannabe wrecking havoc across the city or is there perhaps something a little more sophisticated going on?

Stories Are About Solving Problems

The Inciting Incident brings an inequity into the lives of the characters within the story, creating an imbalance that begs for some sort of resolution. This is why stories exist in the first place ’Äî to grant us some greater meaning when it comes to solving problems in our own lives. The Inciting Incident is simply the first step in that process.

Sometimes those inequities are resolved, as with Inception or The Town, other times they are not. Films like Rain Man or Into the Wild are perfect examples of films where those efforts to resolve problems end in failure. Either ending is perfectly acceptable. All that matters is that the Author knows what it is they want to say, and is clear about saying it.

The Incredibles issues begin with Bob's loss in court against failed suicide-jumper Oliver Sansweet. Before then, everything in Bob's world was hunky-dorey; after that lawsuit, not so much. It forces he and his family and every one of his friends into hiding. This event spawned an inequity within the lives of the characters, an inequity that Syndrome had relatively little to do with it (yet). Defeating him would not correct things as he is not the source of the problems in their lives.

Superheroes Who Don't Get to Be Superheroes

This is the real problem at the heart of The Incredibles. With Bob's loss in court, the Supers were forced into hiding, unable to be what they feel they were born to be. Bob doesn't get to save the world, Helen has to pretend to be a happy housewife, and Dash has to act just like all the other kids in school. Those are some pretty hefty inequities at work there. Bob and his family have to do all these mundane activities because they can't live up to their potential. And they would continue to do so, if it weren't for the story working out the way it did.

Resolution and Defeating the Antagonist

Beating Syndrome's robot didn't resolve the story's issues. Neither did beating him back at home. If he really was the source of all problems in the story, then his unfortunate cape incident would have made everything better. It would have cleared the inequity.

However, it was only once Violet put up her shield and lived up to her full potential that the problems in the story were finally resolved. Bob's family, and by extension the rest of the Supers, found a way to be all that they can be. Sansweet's settlement was righted.

Meaning Within the Ending

This solution of fulfilling one's potential was what was really at stake in the film. By constructing the story this way, the Author (Brad Bird) says, Look, see, if you go about solving your problems this way, this is the kind of result you can expect.. And the images of Bob and his happy family were proof positive that they had taken the right approach.

Sophisticated goals come as a result of storytelling that doesn't focus on the same old obvious, tried and true treasure that lies at the end of the road. They revolve around unique and often unconsidered inequities that we as the Audience have dealt with at one time or another.

Different Minds, Different Stories

Regardless though of the similarities between how everyone is constructed, no two human lives are exactly the same. Everyone has their own idiosynchracies, their own way of going about things and their own take on the issues affecting them. Everyone is unique. The same can be said of complete stories.

The psychotic mind at the center of Se7en is completely different than the pop princess mind that is The Little Mermaid. Both operate under the same process and the same dynamic forces, yet their personalities and the way they go about solving problems couldn't be more different. The reason they both found success with their individual audiences is because they both honored the analogy between story and mind.

The Analogy Revealed

What good can come from classifying stories as an analogy to the human mind? Well, for starters, the reason why Character, Plot, Theme, and Genre ever came into existence becomes clear.

Characters were developed as a means of expressing the motivations within the human mind. Just as there are motivations within a single mind to solve a problem, delay it, or avoid it all together, so too are there characters within a story who exemplify the same motivations.

Plot came about as a natural representation of the methodologies that the human mind explores in solving problems. The various strategies and approaches taken within a story perfectly mimic the actions and reactions the mind employs.

Theme, often seen as the measuring stick with which to judge the characters and the actions they take, was developed as a need to express the evaluations the human mind undergoes. Determining whether the process is worth continuing or whether or not to trust how things are changing are natural processes everyone experiences in their own lives millions of times a day. In a story, Theme assumes that mechanism.

And finally, Genre was created as a way of expressing the purpose behind a mind's attempt to solve a problem. Typically Genre is viewed in light of its category on Netflix or in iTunes - Romantic Comedy, War Drama, Action/Adventure, and so on. But seen in the context of the human mind solving a problem it becomes apparent that these genres are really aiming at a specific purpose: Action/Adventures aim to entertain and delight with explosions and fast-paced editing, Period Pieces aim to inform while also exploring human relationships over the centuries. The Genre specifies the purpose.

Put together, each part combines to create a meaningful model of the human mind at work. Each part combines to create a complete story.

Slicing the Short Story

But when it comes to stories that are shorter in length, it becomes impossible to explore the whole thing. There simply isn't enough time to go down every avenue and accurately depict the entirety of the human mind at work.

But Authors can take a slice.

The key is to give the audience just enough of the taste of the ’Äúmind’Äù of a story that they become hooked, seeing an Author as someone they can trust to give them the kind of meaning they go to stories for. Authors could simply focus on Character, insuring that the central character develops over time, growing to an eventual meaningful resolution. Or they could simply offer up a slice of Plot, constructing a story that ends meaningfully or naturally develops through four Acts. They could even cross-cut their piece, taking a bit of Character, Plot, Theme and Genre with it in an attempt to provide a glimpse of something greater just beyond.

This latter approach is taken in John August's wildly entertaining story, The Variant. In the short span of 23 pages, August delivers a combination of all four aspects of story that hints at something deeply meaningful. In essence, it is the final set piece of a potentially engaging complete story. Take for example, this one Amazon review, typical of many:

That desire for more, that need to fill in the rest of puzzle comes as a result of expert craftsmanship. The hints of natural character growth and a clear-cut ending that actually means something, tantalizes the human mind into desiring even more.

Another great example of this slicing occurs in Scott Frank's short story, The Flying Kreisslers. Here, Frank focuses on delivering four very clear Acts, a slice of Plot that delivers the feeling of a complete story. Because there isn't enough fictional real estate to explore every aspect of the human mind at work, Frank chooses to fixate his narrative on the Main Character's throughline, tracking the development of Ivan's journey from manipulated to manipulator. In less than 2000 words, he delivers a sense of completeness, a savory morsel that honors the mind's natural problem-solving process.

One Bite and You're Hooked

Audiences crave meaning. In the case of the short story, they want an Author to respect them by sampling just enough of that greater picture that they get the idea that there could be something greater at work here, some intelligence that more closely resembles their own. Audiences leave insulted when there is no attempt at crafting something worthwhile. If Authors wish their short stories to become cherished works they would do well to investigate how to apply the mind's problem-solving process through Character, Plot, Theme and Genre.

The Difference Between Neo and Luke Skywalker

As with the article last week regarding why Everything Is Not a Hero's Journey, there also exists a certain group of people that seem to think many popular Protagonists are really just carbon-copies of one another. To them, every central character in a story is simply another evolution of Gilgamesh.

Now, to a certain extent, they are right.

Luke is more than just a Protagonist.

Both Neo (Keanu Reeves) in The Matrix and Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamil) in Star Wars fulfill the role of the classic Archetypal Protagonist; that is, they are the ones who are pursuing the successful resolution of the story's primary goal. In this purely objective context they do resemble each other. But where their similarity breaks down is in the deeper investigation of what is really going on inside of them personally.

Many central characters find themselves faced against apparently insurmountable odds. Many grow to a point where they fundamentally have to change the way they see the world. And many find emotional relief from their personal issues at the end of a story - many reach a catharsis where they overcome that which held them back.

When using the above as touch points for examining a story, sure, it looks like every Protagonist is the same. Both Neo (Keanu Reeves) in The Matrix and Luke Skywalker in Star Wars easily fit into these generalized observations regarding story. But that's just it - they lack specificity. Not only are these concepts of story useless to a writer in figuring out exactly what to do with their story, they also prove to be ultimately detrimental because of their blatant inaccuracies.

Constructing a story - a meaningful story - is a hard and demanding process. There can be no room for best guesses or gross generalities.

Both The Matrix and Star Wars, while similar at face value, really are quite different. One concerned itself with faith, the other with trust.

What Motivates a Character

Every Main Character comes to a story ripe with personal baggage. Whether it be some deep psychological issue from when they were a child, or something that just happened to them yesterday, this personal issue - or problem - is what motivates them to participate in the larger entity that is a story.

Mr. Andersen has a hard time believing.

In The Matrix, Thomas Andersen (Neo) suffers from a preponderance of disbelief, both in himself and in the world around him. When asked by Morpehus to climb out on the ledge in order to escape Agent Smith, Thomas doesn't get very far before turning around. "I can't do this" - he claims as he cowers back inside. It is this idea that he is so unpersuadable, both inside and outside of the Matrix, that sits at the heart of Neo's personal struggle.

In Star Wars, Luke Skywalker consistently gets into trouble because of his relentless need to test himself. When R2 goes missing, he leaps at the chance to prove his mettle and promptly gets his ass handed to him by the local natives. This flaw haunts him at every turn. In earlier drafts, there was even a sci-fi take on the classic 50's drag race, complete with the requisite scene of Luke pushing his dragster beyond the limits of safety in order to test his abilities against his fellow desert delinquents. This drive to test himself at every turn was Luke's major personal problem.

Luke, on the other hand, never had a problem with believing.

Clearly these two characters are coming from two different places.

Luke never had a problem believing in the Force; he was on-board with the whole thing from the moment he lost his aunt and uncle. Likewise, Neo didn't create problems because he felt this need to test himself all the time; if left to his own devices he probably would have still been there camped out in front of his computer screen.

They both were motivated by two distinct and separate problems.

Why does this matter?

A Solution For Every Problem

Different problems require different solutions. You wouldn't use masking-tape to hold together soap bubbles anymore than you would use a hammer to make a sandwich. Each problem defines its own appropriate solution and nothing less will than that one particular solution will resolve it.

Disbelief requires faith as a solution. Test requires trust.

Thomas Andersen eventually grows to a point where he can begin believing that he is, indeed, Neo. Faith resolves his issues. Luke eventually grows to a point where he is willing to let go. Trusting in the Force resolves his issues. Both characters managed to resolve their individual problems by using the correct solution for the issues that plagued them.

Now, at first glance, faith may seem an awful lot like trust. Couldn't you argue that Neo was really trusting Morpheus when he decides not to run from Agent Smith? And couldn't you say that Luke started believing in the Force when he turned off his targeting computer? Not really.

Neo would not be the superhero he was at the end of the first film if he simply trusted in Morpheus. There was no way he was going to be able to stop those bullets until he truly believed that he could. Similarly, we already established that Luke believed in the Force - he even had an argument with Han about it back when he was first training on the Milennium Falcon. Luke needed to simply trust in this otherworldly "force" for the torpedoes to hit their mark.

Why then is it so important to delineate the exact nature of the problem in a story?

The Problem Defines the Story

Reliance on this is why Star Wars needed Luke.

The Main Character's problem represents the finest level of granularity from which one can appreciate the true meaning of a story. That's why an exploration of it can so often seem like splitting hairs. It is important though to make this distinction, because there is so much more that is built on top of the problem, so much more that relies on the accurate understanding of it, that to get it wrong would only cause greater problems in the story at large.

The Main Character's problem is intimately tied to the problems suffered by all the characters in a story. It's why this particular Main Character is even in the story in the first place; and it is the answer to the question Why now? so often referred to in story meetings. If for some reason these two problems are at odds (the external and internal), the Main Character may seem out of place, or worse, inconsequential to the resolution of the story.

In addition, there will be a discrepancy between the kinds of goals in stories with dissimilar problems. Problems of belief will naturally lead to goals focused on accomplishing some insurmountable task. Problems of trust organically lend themselves to goals more focused on simply doing something. Like the distinction between faith and trust, the distinction between acquiring something and doing something is a very important one.

This is why Luke would not have fit into the story that was The Matrix, and why Neo would have had a hard time finding a home amongst the inhabitants of Star Wars. Each particular story goal required a different central character, a different vessel for the meaning of the story.

The Right Man (or Woman) For the Job

Taking control of the Matrix was the Goal of the story.

The goal of The Matrix was to gain control over the software program, to bend it to the will of the humans. Simply fighting Agent Smith and his well-dressed friends was not enough (as evidenced by Morpheus' years of trying). Neo was the lynch-pin for the successful achievement of that goal because the one thing that would allow them to gain that control - unwavering belief - was an important factor of Neo's character development.

Luke, as described above, had no problem with believing. Trying to replace Neo with Luke would have broken the logic of the story structure and diminished any appreciable meaning.

In Star Wars there was no attempt to gain control over the Empire or the tyrannical systems they employed. Instead, there was only the will to find a competent way to fight them. That was the goal of the story. And like Neo, Luke was the key to the successful achievement of that story goal because learning to trust was a crucial part of his individual character development. The only way for the Rebels to successfully fight against the Empire was to trust in something other than themselves.

Neo trusted Morpheus from the very first IM he received. To swap him for Luke would have destroyed that story's meaning and shortened the film to about thirteen minutes. These two characters are simply not interchangeable.

The Need for Clarity in Storytelling

Not every story is the same. There are tens of thousands of different meaningful story structures, each with its own unique perspective on why things are the way they are. And because each unique story structure requires a specific kind of central character, it follows that there are just as many variations of Main Character.

The Matrix was trying to prove how having more faith can lead to greater happiness, while Star Wars was trying to prove that trusting in something other than yourself is the way to go. While looking at them through the lens of the Hero's Journey they might seem the same, the truth is that they carry two very distinct and separate messages. This is yet another reason why the Hero's Journey is a failed device for appreciating the meaning of a story.

By definition, everything in a meaningful story is connected. Character flows through plot which flows through theme and finally closes the circle through genre. The machine that is a well-told story is a delicate balance of passionate storytelling and solid logical story-structure. To be inaccurate on even the smallest of matters is to invite failure in the construction of the story at large and a breakdown in the communication of the message the Author hopes to send.

The Illusion of Change

Let's revisit one of Christopher Nolan's lesser-known (though not lesser films) The Prestige. Telling the story of two magicians fighting for fame and fortune in the Victorian Era, this 2006 thriller delivers concrete emotional wallop amongst the dark suspense and surprise that is common with Nolan's work. Much of his success can be attributed to the sound story structure he diligently applies to every film. Story structure that, like Inception, gives greater meaning to the events that unfold.

Dueling Magicians

One of the precepts for a meaningful story centers around the idea that when looking at the two principal characters one will transformationally change, while the other will remain steadfast. While this may seem to run counter to the widely accepted notion that a character must change in order to arc, it actually speaks of a more accurate understanding of What Character Arc Really Means. Two approaches are presented towards solving the story's major problem, one appropriate, the other not so much. Which one is which is entirely up to the Author and the message they wish to communicate with their audience. When both characters change there is nothing said, no greater purpose to the events on-screen, and therefore, no reason to remember the film some twenty-five minutes later when one pulls out of parking.

To a writer, change should be evaluated by comparing the character's final resolve at the end of the story with who the character was at the beginning. If their character - if the way they look at and see the world - has somehow become drastically different from where they started, then yes they have had a transformation of character. If on the other hand, they simply grew into a viewpoint they only somewhat believed in at the beginning, then they have actually held steadfast to their worldview. They haven't changed, they have simply grown.

One can grow without changing who they are and how they see the world.

At first glance it may seem that both principal characters change in The Prestige. Robert Angier (Huge Jackman) changes from a magician unwilling to get his hands dirty (as evidenced by his reticence to kill even the smallest of birds) to a man willing to kill himself over and over again for the roar of the crowd. On the other side of the street, Alfred Borden (Christian Bale) transforms from a man willing to do whatever it takes to keep his magic a secret (as evidenced by the prompt removal of two perfectly good digits) to a man willing to admit the truth of his situation regardless of who he may hurt. So how can both be considered Change characters if in doing so, the story would be considered broken?

Ignoring this paradox for a moment, the similarities between the two "the You and I" connection - become as equally important in the investigation of this story's structure. Both magicians are driven by that desire for "the Prestige." If the film had been written by an lesser artist, there might have even been an on-the-nose conversation where Angier calls Borden out:

Ugh. As it stands, we do get something close to that in the final reveal scene, but admittedly with more artistry and professsionalism than the ham-handed example above. Regardless, both characters are driven by that desire for recognition, but only one of them truly lets it go at the end. To determine who, it becomes necessary to separate out the individual storylines.

The Main Character Throughline

It is Angier's desire for adulation that truly defines him.

The Main Character's Throughline, while woven into the thematics and plot events of the larger main story, maintains its own concerns and thematic issues. In fact, these dramatic concepts are so unique to this character that he or she would take them with them no matter what story they went into. If Luke had never run into R2 and instead was involved in a story about drag-racing across the dunes of Tatooine (Taladega Wars), he would still have found time to whine about how he was stuck on a planet where his spaceship fantasies could never become a reality. Likewise, if William Munny had never heard of Big Whisky, and instead was involved in the great Oklahoma Land Rush with Tom and Nicole (Far and Unforgiven), he would still have had those issues with maintaining his wife's attitude that he "ain't a bad man any more." If someone were to try and claim one of his stakes, why...well let's just say that Little Bill probably got off easy.

Thus, in order to truly understand what is most personal to the Main Character of a story, it becomes necessary to filter out all those elements that really are a part of the larger main story. This is even more important in a film like The Prestige where the Main Character is also the Protagonist not always the case. Far too many times what people think of as a personal moment from the Main Character point-of-view actually turns out to be a choice or action taken from their point-of-view as the primary driver of the main story.

If one were to overlook all of Angier's actions as Protagonist (and his goal of trying to understand how Borden does the Transported Man trick), his most personal issues deal with his desire to be the very best, his obsession with the adulation of the audience, and of making them forget their ordinary lives - if even for a second or two. These are the kinds of issues he would take with him into any story as they are the problems central to his very nature. They coalesce nicely with the rest of the story, but they can be seen as separate and individual and most importantly, personal to him.

Scenes where we the audience see the Main Character alone are often chock-full of these sort of personal thematic issues. In The Prestige we get such a moment during Angier's first performance of his own Transported Man trick. Having successfully swapped places with his alcoholic look-alike, Robert takes his triumphant bow from below the stage - out of sight of the adoring audience but thankfully within earshot. His desire for that love, regardless of how he has to get it, speaks volumes about his character.

Another often-used device in communicating this personal throughline is to have another character in the story point out plainly and clearly what the Main Character's real problem is. This is not the same as the Impact Character, who by their very existence in the story forces the Main Character to deal with their personal issues, but rather a character who simply comes out and says, "Hey, you know what your problem is?" David Bowie's Tesla fills this role when he warns Angier of proceeding:

And thus we have a perfect example of a Main Character moment. With these issues at the core of what Angier is personally struggling with it becomes obvious that he grew INTO his resolve, not out of it. His desire began as a small kernel of motivation, but eventually grew into something that consumed him, resulting in his eventual destruction. This was, of course, the meaning behind the whole piece.

Angier, therefore, was a Steadfast Main Character.

The Difference Between Resolve and Growth

Not ready to get his hands dirty...yet.

Resolve, which is what we are concerned with when determining whether a character ultimately changes or stays true to their nature, sits apart from the actual character's growth. Their growth is how they get there, how they end up at that moment of crisis, faced with that choice that will set in stone their resolve. Main Characters can waffle back and forth through the story (and probably should for the sake of interest), but it is that final culminating moment that ultimately defines them. Have they grown to a point where they are ready to let it all go and see the world anew? Or have they determined for themselves that yes, the way they have been going about this is truly the way to go.

Angier's need to "get his hands dirty" was something he had to grow into, but was always something he had the potential for. Only then could the audience begin to love him the way he wanted them to. He had moments of doubt, moments when he considered changing, but in the end, in the end he stuck with that desire for fame.

Borden, on the other hand, completely transforms his worldview. The key scene for this happens when his wife asks the twin brother (the one more interested in Johanssen) whether or not he really loves her.

Since the moment he met her, Borden has been driven to keep up the perception that both he and his brother were one and the same. How else could he successfully pull off the trick of the century without this elaborate deception? The only problem is that this success came with a price - the emotional torture of his innocent wife. Eventually, and in no small part to his interactions with Angier, Borden comes to a place where he just can't keep it up any longer and reveals to her the truth:

Borden changes to someone no longer driven by illusion. Reality has taken over as his new approach to solving problems and one can imagine that, moving forward, Borden and his brother might choose a different line of work. Unfortunately, in undergoing this transformation of character, Borden breaks Sarah's heart, revealing to her that all along the trick was more important than their relationship. Motivated by this new revelation, his wife feels as if she has no other alternative than to take her own life.

In sharp contrast, there is no way Angier would give up that stage for anything or anybody.

Clarity of Character

Separating out the throughlines, determining the difference between a character's resolve and their personal growth, clarifying which principal character transforms and which maintains their point-of-view - all of these are tools a writer can use to insure that their story stays consistent and meaningful throughout. When writing a story as complex and non-linear as The Prestige, understanding precisely what is going with the characters that populate it can go a long way towards making sure the audience does not leave befuddled or overcome with unanswered questions. Those who prefer to leave such concepts left to chance, or to the whims of their individual muse, aren't really looking close enough because really...they don't want to know.

They want to be fooled.

Plot Points and the Inciting Incident

Every problem has its own genesis, a moment at which the balance is tipped and the previous sense of oneness is lost. With separation comes the awareness of an inequity, and a desire to return back to a state of parity. Every problem has a solution, and a story explores that process of trying to attain resolution.

In a story, this Opening Event - or beginning of a story - is commonly referred to as the Inciting Incident.

The Exciting Incident

The Inciting Incident (or "exciting incident" as someone once referred to it) is the event or decision that begins a story's problem. Everything up and until that moment is Backstory; everything after is "the story." Before this moment there is an equilibrium, a relative peace that the characters in a story have grown accustomed to. This incisive moment, or plot point occurs and upsets the balance of things. Suddenly there is a problem to be solved.

Stories are about solving problems. Sometimes they are solved, as is the case with Star Wars, Casablanca or Inception. Other times, as with stories like Hamlet, Amadeus or Se7en, they aren't. Regardless of outcome, this Inciting Incident gets the ball rolling by introducing an inequity into the lives of the characters that inhabit the story. The Protagonist seeks the solution, the Antagonist seeks to prevent it.

Every story works this way.

The Reason for Plot Points

The two central objective characters, Protagonist and Antagonist, battle it out until approximately one-quarter of a way into a story, some other event or decision occurs that spins the story into a brand new direction. This second plot point is referred to as the First Act Turn as it turns the story from the First Act into the Second. This is a further development of the problem, not the beginning of a problem.

Other plot points - the Mid-Point and Second Act Turn - continue to escalate the issues surrounding the efforts to resolve the problem until finally, the Concluding Event, or Final Plot Point, ends the story. As mentioned above, this does not necessarily mean the problem has been solved. It simply means that the efforts that were undertaken by the Protagonist have come to their natural end as every resource has been exhausted.

These plot points naturally split a story into four parts. For fans of Aristotle, the first part is the Beginning, the second two are the Middle and the third is the Ending. There is a meaningful reason why there are four parts. In short, for every problem there are four basic contexts from which you can explore the way to solve a problem. Once you have explored all four contexts, the story is over. Any continuation would simply be a rehash of something that has already been investigated.

The most important thing to take away from all of this is that the First Act Turn is NOT the Inciting Incident. This is a common mistake by many first time writers, and is generally caused by a lack of understanding exactly why these plot points exist in the first place. One plot point starts the problems, the other furthers the complications of said problem.

Inciting Incidents and First Act Turns

The following is a list of great stories with their corresponding Inciting Incidents and First Act Turning Points. The numbers provided are either based on page numbers, Kindle percentages or minutes depending on what source material was easily accessible.

For those who don't know, the general idea is that one page of a screenplay generally lines up with one minute of screen time. A 120 page screenplay often lasts two hours on screen. or 120 minutes. Thus, the Inciting Incident would occur on or near page 0, while the First Act Turn would happen somewhere near page 30 (out of 120). If we're talking percentages, that would be about one-quarter of the way into a story.

Star Wars

The Inciting Incident of Star Wars is Darth Vader's attack on Princess Leia's ship (1/120). While there was a civil war going on prior to this event, it isn't until the Empire shows its true colors by illegally boarding a ship purported to be on a "diplomatic mission" that the real problems of the story begin. The Empire has grown ruthless in its efforts to contain any rebellion, this inciting event is only the beginning of many more to come.

The First Act Turn begins with the Empire's sinister agents attack on peaceful Jawas and ends with their barbeque of Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru (30-31/120). Suddenly, what began as a simple conflict over jurisdiction has now turned into an all-out rampage that affects even the most remote and more importantly, innocent, members of the galaxy. The problem has grown in its potential for even greater conflict.

The Matrix

The Inciting Incident of The Matrix is Morpheus' decision that Mr. Andersen is the One they have been looking for (2/130). This one decision drives the entire rest of the story, for if he hadn't picked Tom the rest of the world would have stayed comfortably numb in their battery pods. Without the Inciting Incident, there would be no story.

The First Act Turn begins with Neo's decision to come in off the ledge (21/130). It isn't until this true sign of character that Morpheus is forced into taking even greater strides to break poor Mr. Andersen out of the Matrix. These deliberations by Neo - continuing with his "giving the finger" scene, choosing whether or not to stay in the car, and culminating with his decision to take the red pill - all create resistance to Morpheus' initial selection. It isn't until Neo finally decides that he is the One (121/130) that the problems in the story come to a successful resolution.

Unforgiven

The Inciting Incident of Unforgiven is Little Bill's leniency towards Quick Mike (5/120). Little Bill is known for dealing with criminals in his own special way, why the sudden change of heart? His refusal to respond in kind creates a rift within the story at large, and forces the whores to seek out their own justice. The first Act Turning Point only makes matters worse with the arrival of English Bob and his refusal to surrender his sidearms to "proper authority"(33/120).

The Sixth Sense

The Inciting Incident of The Sixth Sense is Vincent's attack on Malcom (8/109). Without this gunshot, there would be no story and no compulsion for Malcom to meet with Cole. The First Act Turning Point comes with Cole's revelation that he might suffer from the same violent tendencies that Vincent did. His steps back and his conclusion that Malcom can't help him only furthers the problems caused by the perception that Cole is merely a "disturbed" child (22/109).

Casablanca

The Inciting Incident of Casablanca is Ugarte's decision to give Rick the letters of transit (15/127). While the murder of the two couriers seems to get things rolling, problems don't really start until Ugarte decides to give them to Rick. After all, people get murdered in Casablanca all the time. But give them to someone whose allegiances are in question? Now we've got a problem.

These papers and the efforts to retrieve become the major source of conflict for everyone involved in the story. This is why Rick's deliberations over what to do with them, including his refusal to help out Ugarte ("I stick my neck out for nobody"), propel the First Act into the Second (30-45/127). With Rick in charge of who gets them and when, Laszlo's mission becomes that much more difficult.

The Lives of Others

The Inciting Incident of The Lives of Others is Minister's Hempf's decision to have Georg Dreyman "watched." (10/135). Without this bigwig's desire for Dreyman's girlfriend, Wiesler would have continued his life as he always had, and quite possibly would never have crossed paths with this writer and his friends.

Like Casablanca, the First Act Turn comes more as a wave than an actual singular event. This time it is Dreyman's best friend, the director Albert Jerska, and his constant ruminations over the purpose of his life that progressively complicate a simple spy operation into something far more reaching and grander in scope. Jerska's dark contemplations of suicide inspire Dreyman to write and give reason for Wiesler to better understand the kind of struggles and torment these artists go through as a result of the state's actions.

The Incredibles

And finally, the Inciting Incident of The Incredibles occurs with the overwhelming flood of lawsuits stemming from Mr. Incredible's loss in court against Oliver Sansweet, the man he rescued from suicide (14/127). This rush to sue forces the Supers into hiding, promising "to never again resume hero work." These previously costumed guys (and girls) now can't be who they want to be, and thus yet another story inequity has been created. If it had just been Sansweet, then perhaps things would have simmered down. The flood of lawsuits tipped the scales.

Problems escalate when Bob and Frozone almost get caught during the fire in the apartment building sequence (32/127). Before, Bob had found a way to deal with the initial problem by moonlighting with his best friend. This event, and their near apprehension by local authorities, forces Frozone to decide that this night was the last one. What was once a manageable problem has now become an even bigger one, and eventually provides the motivation for Bob to accept the mysterious invitation from Mirage.

Plot points drive a story towards the resolution of its problem.

Not Just About Movies

But what about other forms of narrative fiction? Surely this is just a "formula" for Hollywood-wannabes to follow...

Story is story regardless of the delivery device.

The Inciting Incident of Shakespeare's Hamlet is the death of Hamlet's father. As with The Matrix, where the actual inciting event happens "off-screen", the story immediately opens up with the characters plagued by the problem's effects:

HAMLET:
Let me not think on't! Frailty, thy name is woman-
A little month, or ere those shoes were old
With which she follow'd my poor father's body
Like Niobe, all tears - why she, even she -
O God! a beast that wants discourse of reason
Would have mourn'd longer-

Quick tranlsation: Hamlet has been thrown into great despair because of his mother's impulsive move to quickly marry his father's brother, Claudius (10%). The fact that she couldn't even wait a month drives Hamlet mad, thus creating a problem in Elsinore that calls for some sort of resolution. This problem grows in importance when the Ghost of Hamlet's father informs his son of what really happened:

GHOST: A serpent stung me. So the whole ear of Denmark
Is by a forged process of my death
Rankly abused. But know, thou noble youth,
The serpent that did sting thy father's life
Now wears his crown.
HAMLET: O my prophetic soul! My uncle!

No longer an inequity that must be suffered, the death of Hamlet's father now becomes something that must be avenged (20%). The dramatic energy produced by the news of his father's passing has waned to the point where something new must come along and drive the story further towards its inevitable conclusion. This revelation of a "murder most foul" is that event, and can be considered the First Act Turning Point of the play.

Problems, Energy, and Plot Points

Determining the events or decisions that escalate a story's problem should be Job One for the working dramatist. It is one thing to create an opening scene that wrecks havoc on the characters in the film and forces them to deal with this new problem, quite another to ensure that the inequity persists until the closing curtain.

Eventually, as with Hamlet, the potential for dramatic conflict will decline throughout the course of an Act. It is the same drop in potential that one feels as the pain from a pinch or slap in the face subsides over time. In order for the problem of a story to continue to drive the characters towards an eventual solution, a new potential must be introduced. These new dramatic forces, escalating the problem beyond that initial blast, drive the story forward in such a way that the characters themselves could never return to who they were or what they did during that first initial response. There can be no turning back.

Act turns exist to re-energize the potential of a story's problem, not to satisfy page-counting readers or paradigm-happy script gurus. Connecting the two first plot points to this problem, and making sure that they aren't simply the same event, will give an audience something to engage in and something to become invested in. The fact of the matter is that no audience member can resist the draw of the problem solving process as it unfolds on the big screen; it's human nature to see what greater meaning can be gained from how the resolution plays out.

The Reason for Acts

Problem-Solving and Act Turns

The Inciting Incident occurs, introducing a problem into the lives of the characters who inhabit a story. In order to resolve it, a certain approach is taken - some characters work for the eventual resolution of the problem, others are firmly against such an endeavor. The two forces battle it out until all the dramatic conflicts within that one particular approach are exhausted. If the problem continues to exist, a new approach must be taken, and thus, a brand new Act is required.

This is why Acts exist within a story. They signify the change in dramatic focus the characters take in order to solve the problems within a story. The reason there are only four acts in every complete story is because for every problem we can experience in our lives, there are four major contexts, or dramatic approaches, we can take in order to go about effective problem-solving.

Four Acts, Four Contexts

Let's say, for example, that we are writing a story about a group of boxers and the challenges they face rising up through the amateur circuit. Their struggles come because they simply aren't very skilled boxers. Sure, they might have mental blocks or doubts about their abilities, but the true focus of this particular story is their prowess within the ring.

We want to write a complete story, and thus want to make sure that we cover all four contexts from which to examine this particular problem. When it comes to physical activities like this, the four basic contexts are DOING, OBTAINING, UNDERSTANDING and LEARNING. Once our boxers have moved through these four areas they will have explored every aspect of boxing from a physical standpoint and will have either found a way to solve their problem, or not.

The first, and probably most easy context to "get" is the context of actually DOING something. In this act, our group of boxers would explore the difficulties and conflicts created by body blows and uppercuts. The older more experienced boxers would challenge the younger ones and individual skill levels would be brought to test. There would be a lot of pain in this Act.

The second context would concern itself with OBTAINING something. Here, the group of boxers would perhaps duke it out to see who will end up on the final team and who will go home with their tail tucked between their legs. There could be lives taken in this Act, if not arms broken, and falls taken for money. Anything and everything to do with achieving or losing something would fall into this category.

The third context deviates from the first two in that, at first glance, it seems to delve into more of a mental context. However, this is not so, as the struggle towards UNDERSTANDING something is truly a physical problem. In this act, the boxers would battle against their previous training, perhaps fighting their instincts to cover-up when their trainer wants them to open up instead. There would be accusations of cheating and confusion over one boxer's proclivity to feint at the sight of blood.

See how our story is suddenly beginning to feel more full?

Proponents of a three Act story structure would tell you that that is it, you've covered the three basic movements - Beginning, Middle and End - and now it's time to wrap things up. But you know that feeling you're experiencing right now? That feeling that something is missing, or has yet to be covered? That is the same feeling an audience experiences when a writer has failed to cover all four contexts. This is a feeling that should be avoided at all costs.

The fourth and final context of solving the physical problem of boxing comes with LEARNING something. Initially, it may be difficult to see the difference between this and the previous context, but if you think of Learning as the actual collecting of information and Understanding the act of making sense of it all, the differences should become apparent.

In this fourth Act, the boxers would learn new techniques, analyze film footage of previous bouts, and argue over what the line-up might be for the next tournament. They might discover one of them needs special treatment and spend late nights in the ring helping him out. They might even spy on the other group of amateurs across town. Anything to do with the struggles involved in the gathering of information would find a home in this Act.

And with that, the story would now be complete. There would be no need to go back and show more scenes of fighting, or have yet another scene of someone losing their house because of their dedication to the sport. Those struggles, those contexts, have already been explored and movement has been made forward towards the ultimate resolution of the initial problem created by the Inciting Incident. To go back would be redundant, and completely unnecessary.

Problem-Solving At the Movies

As with the previous example regarding the group of boxers and the amateur circuit, the following film examples will focus primarily on the problems experienced by everyone in the story. Complete stories, especially films as wonderful as those below, are complex thematic explorations of different problems seen from many different points-of-view. In order to keep this article as focused and as simple as it can be, much of the more personal and heartfelt moments of each individual story will be left for another time. For now, we will hone in on the major problems that affect every character in the story.

Star Wars

The major problem of Star Wars revolves around an Empire that has grown ruthless in its efforts to contain any rebellion. This problem begins with Darth Vader's attack on Princess Leia's ship and continues until the eventual destruction of the Death Star.

The First Act explores the fallout from Vader's attack and the Rebel's new Understanding of what it is they are dealing with now. The Act culminates with the Empire's attack on the Jawas and Luke's Aunt and Uncle. The Second Act finds the Rebels Learning the true destructive power of the Empire when the evil baddies test their weapon out on Alderaan. The Third Act has Luke and Co. Doing what they can to fight the Empire as it hunts down the hidden Rebel Base. And finally, the Fourth Act finds both good guys and bad guys fighting it out over who can destroy the other one first.

With this last Act, the story can end. Every context from which to examine an out-of-control governing body has been explored. They first tried to understand, then they were forced to learn, followed by actually doing something about it, and finally ending with winning and losing. Any further understanding or fighting would have required an entirely new story. Jumping from the Understanding to the Doing would have left the story feeling empty and hollow.

Four acts, four contexts from which to examine a problem.

Unforgiven

The major problem of Unforgiven surrounds a group of no-good assassins and their attempts to collect reward money for what many deem a reprehensible act. The problem begins with the Sheriff's less-than-equitable punishment for the abuse of an innocent woman and ends with William Munny exacting revenge for those who decided to decorate their saloon with his friend.

The First Act finds the whores Understanding Little Bill's warped sense of justice and their solution of offering up a reward for revenge. The Second Act turns with the arrival of English Bob and forces the Sheriff into teaching everyone what happens to killers and villains who come to Big Whiskey in search of the whore's gold (Learning). The Third Act has William Munny and friends hunting down those responsible and Doing what they have to in order to collect the reward, especially when others can't. And finally, the Fourth Act forces Munny into exacting revenge upon his friend's killers, killing whoever stands in his way (Obtaining).

Once again, we have that feeling of completeness that comes from fully exploring every way to solve the problem at hand. If for some reason David Webb Peoples (the screenwriter of Unforgiven) had left out the conflict that comes when Ned can't Do what they came to do, the film would have felt less complete. It would have been similar to those times when someone leaves out a key portion of their argument, if only because it bolsters their position. The audience knows when a story "skips" over a key context in solving a problem. Exploring all four insures that the audience will leave satisfied.

Meaningful Plot Progression

Note that the Act order of this Academy-Award winning Western is exactly the same as that of the popcorn science-fiction classic, Star Wars. It starts with an Understanding that moves into Learning, then turns to Doing which eventually slides into Obtaining. Yet, is there anyone out there who would contend that these two films are the same?

Story structure doesn't and shouldn't dictate what kinds of scenes should show up in a story. It shouldn't require a "Call to Adventure" or a "Dark Night of the Soul" or any other simplistic interpretation of story structure that has no real meaning or hampers writers with the same kinds of scenes over and over again. It should, however, provide the necessary order of events needed to produce the kind of meaning an Author hopes to instill in the audience, leaving them plenty of room to write whatever their heart tells them. That is what happens when Acts are seen as progressive contexts for examining a problem. This is the way complete stories are written.

Both Star Wars and Unforgiven called for this plot progression of Acts because of the story they were trying to tell. Different stories call for different plot development depending upon the Author's choice of certain structural and dynamic choices. In next week's article we will cover other films that, although they explore the same four contexts of Understanding, Doing, Learning, and Obtaining, do so in a different order, thus producing a completely different kind of meaning.

The Summary of Basic Story Structure

The simplest building blocks of a good story are found in the Three Act Structure. Separated by Plot Points, its Act 1 (Beginning), Act 2 (Middle), and Act 3 (End) refer not to where in time in the story they lie but instead fundamental stages along the way. Sometimes the second act is so long and developed that it can be split in two.

• In the Beginning you introduce the reader to the setting, the characters and the situation (conflict) they find themselves in and their goal. Plot Point 1 is a situation that drives the main character from their "normal" life toward some different conflicting situation that the story is about. 

  • Great stories often begin at Plot Point 1, thrusting the main character right into the thick of things, but they never really leave out Act 1, instead filling it in with back story along the way.

• In the Middle the story develops through a series of complications and obstacles, each leading to a mini crisis. Though each of these crises are temporarily resolved, the story leads inevitably to an ultimate crisis-the Climax. As the story progresses, there is a rising and falling of tension with each crisis, but an overall rising tension as we approach the Climax. The resolution of the Climax is Plot Point 2.

• In the End, the Climax and the loose ends of the story are resolved during the Denouement. Tension rapidly dissipates because it's nearly impossible to sustain a reader's interest very long after the climax. Finish your story and get out.

Character Arc and Story Structure

• Act 1
• In the Beginning of a story the main character, being human (even if he of she isn't), will resist change (inner conflict). The character is  perfectly content as he is; there's no reason to change.

• Plot Point 1 - Then something happens to throw everything off balance.
• It should come as a surprise that shifts the story in a new direction and reveals that the protagonist's life will never be the same again.
• In Star Wars this point occurs when Luke's family is killed, freeing him to fight the Empire.
• It puts an obstacle in the way of the character that forces him or her to deal with something they would avoid under normal circumstances.  
• Act 2
• The second Act is about a character's emotional journey and is the hardest part of a story to write. Give your characters all sorts of challenges to overcome during Act 2. Make them struggle towards their goal. This act is by far the largest, and can be divided into 2 or 3 sections.
• The key to Act Two is conflict. Without it you can't move the story forward. And conflict doesn't mean a literal fight. Come up with obstacles (maybe five, maybe a dozen-depends on the story) leading up to your plot point at the end of Act 2.
• Throughout the second act remember to continually raise the stakes of your character's emotional journey.
• Simultaneously advance both inner and outer conflicts. Have them work together - the character should alternate up and down internally between hope and disappointment as external problems begin to seem solvable then become more insurmountable than ever.   
• Include reversals of fortune and unexpected turns of events-surprise your reader with both the actions of the main character and the events surrounding him. 
• Plot Point 2
• Act Two ends with the second plot point, which thrusts the story in another unexpected direction.
• Plot Point 2 occurs at the moment the hero appears beaten or lost but something happens to turn the situation around. The hero's goal becomes reachable.
• Right before this unexpected story turn, the hero reaches the Black Moment the point at which all is lost and the goal cannot be achieved.  
• In order to have a "Climax", where the tension is highest, you must have a "Black" moment, where the stakes are highest and danger at its worst.
• During this moment, the hero draws upon the new strengths or lessons he's learned in order to take action and bring the story to a conclusion.
• Dorothy's gotta get a broom from the Wicked Witch before she can go home.
• Luke's gotta blow up the Death Star before fulfilling his destiny.
• Professor Klump's gotta save face with the investors of his formula and win back Jada.
• Act 3
• The third Act dramatically shows how the character is able to succeed or become a better person.
• Resolution/denouement ties together the loose ends of the story (not necessarily all of them) and allows the reader to see the outcome of the main character's decision at the climax. Here we see evidence of the change in a positive character arc. 

Story Structure & the Buddha

-Great stories-existed long before there were books about something called Story Structure. The pattern of an enchanting yarn has been recreated again and again through time and around the world in myths and tales. The rhythm of these stories that so captures our imaginations reflects not marketing trends but our collective struggle through life. Things that deeply resonate do so because they tug at our inner workings. Structure is not a prison-use tips and advice on it only as a map, but go down deep within yourself to find the road. Finding the road is the most pleasurable part of writing. 

Conclusion

Don't let your focus be the Plot, which is the series of events and situations that occur along the route of your story. The Plot is a natural outcome of the seeds of your story-it emerges from your setup of the characters, their conflicts and the setting they occur in. You'll write a more powerful, believable story if you focus on seed planting long before you worry about the harvest. 

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In-Class Written Test

Close your computers, hide all notes and cheat sheets.
Don't be late for class.
Complete the test to the best of your knowledge.
2.5 hour time limit.

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Course Epilogue

Here's some essential links to save:

For Graphic Designers:

Tips for Charging Clients for Services
Setting Your Rates for Freelance Work

For Photographers:

How to Set the Price for Your Photo Work

3D/2D Animation & Design:

Setting Your Rates for Freelance Projects

For All Digital Artists:

A Guide to Creating & Applying Textures

A Basic Guide to Creating Custom Brushes

A Guide to Creating Adjustment Layers

A Guide to all Blend Modes

A Complete Guide to the Use and Manipulation of Brushes

Download Custom Brushes

A List of the Best Sites for Downloading Brushes

Everything you wanted to know about creating your own color palettes

Having trouble choosing nice color combinations?
Color Scheme Designer
Kuler Color Themes
Aviary Color Editor

Need to find some free textures?

DeviantArt: This is usually a good first stop when looking for some texture inspiration. It's nice because a lot of the textures on the site can't be found anywhere else.

Flickr: There are so many different textures on here it can be overwhelming at times, but a very good source of ideas and inspiration.

CGTextures: This site hosts all kinds of textures in an easy to browse format.

Zen Textures: A large assortment of high resolution textures.

QTextures: An ever growing stock pile of amazing textures.

Lost & Taken: A nice variety of detailed and colorful surface textures.

Mega-Tex: Over 7000 great quality textures.

Seamless Textures: A one stop resource for all of your seamless texture needs.

Texturebits: Royalty free photo textures, for personal or commercial use.

BittBox: A small but high-quality site for texture images.

PatternWall: A collection of a few hundred patterns.

Texture Warehouse and Texture Library are two simple sites with a few hundred textures of various types.

Traditional art values applied to digital painting:
Concept Art, Design, and Color Theory in Photoshop

How to install Custom Photoshop Brushes:

STEP 1 - Put the .abr file you've downloaded onto the DESKTOP. If they are in a ZIP file, open the zip file and drag the .abr files on to your DESKTOP.

STEP 2 - Open your Adobe Photoshop, select the Brush tool, go to option palette at the top of the screen and click on the icon next to "Brush:" to open the brush preset picker.

Then click on little triangle in the right upper corner. Next on the list you choose 'Load Brushes'

In the dialog box, click on DESKTOP, and choose the .abr file you want to load and your new brushes appear in the Brush palette and are just ready to go. If there's mulitple Brush files to choose from, you may have to repeat the process to load them all one at a time.

To store all your Brushes in the one default folder:
[On a Mac] Put the .abr file you've downloaded into this folder: Users/{username}/Library/Application Support/Adobe/Adobe Photoshop CS3/Presets/Brushes
[on Windows] C:\Program Files\Adobe\Photoshop\Presets\Brushes.



Ever wish there was a decent pencil brush in Photoshop? You can make one.

1. Press F5 and start with this brush. It's one of the standard Photoshop brushes.



2. In the Shape Dynamics section of the Brushes palette, set the Size Control to Pen Pressure and set the Angle jitter to 100%.



3. Next, in the Brush Tip Shapes section, set the Spacing to something like 20%. Spacing will control what looks like paper-grain. (Note: as with all brushes, if the spacing is set too low, you run the risk of bogging down the speed performance of the brush...especially with large brushes.)



This is the basic brush, but you can always add other dynamics. I'll often add an opacity control to the brush (found in "Other Dynamics"), so I can get the effect of a light touch.



Remember, these dynamics can be adjusted depending upon your needs. For instance, if you don't want your pencil to come to a sharp point at low pressure, turn down the Size Control (from step 1). Or turn it off entirely.

Here's a few pencil / marker and texture brushes I use for storyboarding.


OK, that's pretty much it. Fire up that Wacom tablet/Cintiq, and go draw!