Stories are about plot—
Actually, that’s not entirely true. Let me try again…
Stories are about about characters in a plot—
No, still not quite right. Let’s try once more…
Stories are about a plot where characters deal with a major change in their lives.
And there it is. That’s what this post is about, too. There’s plenty of articles and books on the subject of how to outline your story, and whether you ought to consider a Hollywood 3-act structure or a Shakespearean 5-act structure. But what’s at the heart of those outlines and plots? Why should any audience consider your characters for an entire book, TV season, or movie?
It’s because we want to see them as people. We want to see them grow. And to do that, they have to confront an unexpected change. Whether it’s a hostage situation or an awkward first date, the change has to be real and it has to be meaningful. Once you know this, you can create the subtext for any plot, whether your story resembles something like The Avengers or it’s closer to My Dinner with Andre.
To give you an idea of how this might work, let’s look at one of my favorite films: Sofia Coppola’s 2003 drama Lost in Translation, starring Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson.
The Arc: How Bob and Charlotte Face Their Crises
Part I: Alienation
Bob arrives in Tokyo to film a commercial for Suntory Whiskey and avoid his marital issues back home. Charlotte explores the city, unable to do anything while her husband John goes to work as a celebrity photographer.
We meet our protagonists here. Both are facing a life crisis (Bob at midlife, Charlotte at the cusp of adulthood) and estrangement from their spouses. One is at the end of his career, and the other is still figuring hers out. They see their alienation on display in Tokyo’s design.
Part II: Connection
Bob and Charlotte keep running into each other at the hotel. They meet and chat at the bar when they can’t get any sleep. Later, Charlotte invites Bob to meet some Japanese friends for a night of fun. They spend more time together and have intimate talks about their real troubles.
Two lonely souls find each other. They appreciate each other’s wit, and they both don’t get life in Japan. They have a good time together, and they bond over feeling odd together.
Part III: Breakdown
Bob ends up sleeping with the jazz singer at the hotel bar, which upsets Charlotte. They have a terse argument over lunch. Later, during a fire alarm evacuation at the hotel, they meet and reconcile.
The jazz singer’s episode feels like a step back. It’s Bob losing interest in Charlotte, and a sign of his age and distance to her. But a genuine emergency brings them close together again: the fire alarm wakeup and the fact that Bob’s leaving soon.
Part IV: Understanding
Bob has to leave the next morning to return to the US. He says goodbye to Charlotte in the hotel lobby. Later, in a taxi, he spots Charlotte walking a crowded street and gets out. They hug, share some tears, and Bob whispers something reassuring. After they kiss, Bob departs.
Tender moments abound. Bob leaves, and Charlotte remains. They try to be polite, but they can’t hide their pain from each other. Bob gives Charlotte a whisper of something to keep her moving forward. He’ll move forward just because he met her.
The Arc: Wherever You Look, It’s There
If you were to ask me, this kind of approach is good for building character arcs in just about any story. If I show you a random superhero movie, you can point out how the hero undergoes the same four basic steps.
Part One (Alienation): Peter Parker wants to be special, but he faces the struggles of any other high school student.
Part Two (Connection): Peter uses his newfound abilities as Spider-Man to help people in his city and to stand up to common crooks.
Part Three (Breakdown): Peter’s superpowers make him and his family a target for the villain. He begins to feel the pull between being a student and a superhero.
Part Four (Understanding): Spider-Man saves the day, but Peter has to keep his true identity secret to keep his family safe.
Like I said, this is something that any story can feature. Just because there’s explosions and punches in one story, and quiet conversations over dinner in another, doesn’t mean that we can’t watch our characters struggle and adapt to the change in their lives, and maybe grow a little wisdom, too. When we see how a character—how a person—can grow, we can set that growth against any backdrop, from the crowded streets of Tokyo to the crime-ridden alleys of Gotham City and beyond.