Any screenwriting / film studies student will be very much aware of the conventions of modern film structure. A screenwriter will discuss the structure in terms of Acts: Act One introduces our world, our protagonist, our general theme: it’s the set up; Act Two is the conflict – the antagonist antagonising the protagonist; Act Three is the resolution, and the protagonist wins. Take a look at pretty much any film. Yep, it’s the same.
Screenwriting students will marvel at Thelma and Louis, at Chinatown, at North by Northwest, hitting these marks so flawlessly; every plot-point in place, every reveal perfectly timed – yet it’s not for these reasons that the viewer, the paying movie-goer, actually likes these films.
We love Thelma and Louise because of the journey; not the way it hits the marks. We love Chinatown for the way Robert Towne’s screenplay seamlessly unravels; we love North by Northwest because, well, because it’s brilliant. We don’t see the workings of a film; we don’t analyse them to decide whether we like them: We just enjoy them.
The Source of the Form
The fact of the matter is, when we started making movies – back in the 1910s and 20s – we had no idea how they should work. How long should they be? What should they be about? What can we actually show on screen?... It goes on and on ... and we just didn’t know.
Films like Nosferatu worked on a set of bargains: The characters each had something that the other wanted and the film unravelled as such. D. W. Griffiths controversial The Birth of a Nation was perhaps the first feature film, by modern standards, and was arguably one of the most important technical steps forwards in the history of cinema – though the subject matter and approach were, most would agree, a little misguided.
Film Noir and the Birth of a Form
The films we see today, I believe, are direct descendents of the Film Noir era. This is when we found a workable form that movie studios could replicate over and over, churning out film after film.
The importance of realising this is that films like The Maltese Falcon and The Big Sleep where based on detective novels by Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammet respectively: They were Crime Fiction adaptations. Now, Crime Fiction works on a very simple yet very workable and necessary structure: Detective gets a case; Detective strives to solve the case; Detective solves the case – i.e. Set Up, Conflict, Resolution. It’s the three act structure.
The Form Stays but the Times Change
Film Noir was the movie industry’s reaction to the Great Depression. The films, all bleak and brooding, fit the tone of the times and movie-goers felt they could, in general, relate to the characters and their situations. The writers – mostly crime novelists themselves – had all found a way of writing a screenplay that translated into a film that led viewers through the action to a satisfactory conclusion. Perfect.
However, as the times changed, so too did our affection for Film Noir, and for detective stories. We found ourselves making films about relationships, about war, about all sorts of topics, and, even today, we still persist with the old structure.
In many ways, it makes sense. We are presented with a situation, conditions change and we follow our characters as they attempt to overcome their obstacles and conflicts. Yet, after so long, have we not become used to this to the point where we can predict film plots after, say, ten or so minutes?
What Actually IS a Story and How SHOULD we approach films?
Stanley Kubrick was apparently quoted as saying that, “a story is something with an interesting premise that builds to a logical and satisfying conclusion" (quoted in William Godman's Which Lie Did I Tell? [2001]) He also once said, “All you need for a movie is six or eight non-submersible units,” (2:22) so it’s easy to see why Kubrick’s the first to come to mind when considering film structure.
If what we are after is an experience, to be taken on a journey in a film, then why do we maintain our fixation with the Three Act structure? Is it because it is so easily rewarding, in so far as we no longer have to delve too deep to understand what is happening? Or would it not be more rewarding to be forced to delve?
Six or eight non-submersible units? Well, you could analyse a Kubrick film and still manage to strap on the Three Act structure, but that’s not the point here. The point is that we need to do something.
Alfred Hitchcock once said, “There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it.” What we have now become experts at is knowing when the bang is coming; knowing when to jump and scream: And not necessarily being too surprised by it when we do.
Maybe it’s time to find another way for films to function. It’s not like we have to obey the rules: We made the rules. We can break them.
And, hopefully, we will.
Sources and Further Reading:
- IMDB
- Goldman, William (2001). Which Lie Did I Tell?: More Adventures in the Screen Trade. Vintage. ISBN 0375703195.
- Field, Syd (2003). The Definitive Guide to Screenwriting. Ebury Press. ISBN 9780091890278
- The Stanley Kubrick Archives (2008) Taschen. ISBN 3836508893
- Schrader, Paul, A Note on Film Noir: http://michelebeverly.com/Documents/Notes%20of%20Film%20Noir.pdf
- Naremore, James (1998), More Than Night: Film Noir in its Contexts. University of California Press. ISBN 9780520254022
Daniel Lambert - Daniel Lambert is a screenwriter and essayist. Born in Warrington, Cheshire in 1990, he attended Frodsham High School, Helsby High School ...
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