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Script Bulletin: February 2006
How to Create Smart, Active Theme

All too often, writers mistake periphery stagnant ideas for theme and subsequently clutter the narrative with inorganic story/character choices. This month's essay empowers you to identify clear, simple, active thematic statements and further devises ways to help you unify this theme with the content. Yank those undeveloped thematic ideas out of the shadows and bring your script to exciting life with a hero that aggressively proves your overall message.

I recently had a client who declared that her movie was “about the theme of loneliness.” When I read the script, I definitely observed characters that were somewhat isolated due to their life circumstances – but there was absolutely no point being made about the state of loneliness in general, there were no heroes making active decisions as a direct result of loneliness. In short, loneliness was not the driving force of the story but instead a periphery underdeveloped idea.

I see this all the time. Writers, by nature, are often cerebral and literary – thus causing them to overeagerly mistake heady ideas as thematic statements. Such enthusiasm proves dangerous when the writer starts throwing in unnecessary scenes or making inorganic story choices to accommodate a so-called theme that doesn’t even really exist! So, the question becomes how to distinguish between stagnant ideas that clutter the narrative and active thematic statements that effortlessly compel the story forward.

Fortunately, this month will correct the issue at hand by empowering you with a few simple, direct, no-nonsense ways to develop your very own theme in an active, cohesive manner.

Principle #1: Always Make Active Statements.

During the outlining or writing processes, you should never, ever settle for saying, “My script is about loneliness” or “My script is about fantasy” or “My script is about good versus evil.”  None of these sentences convey meaning or put forward an assertion, none of these sentences make a conclusive statement about the topic at hand. Right away, then, you want to make sure your thematic statement conforms to two rules:

• It shows cause and effect.
• It comes to a definitive conclusion about life.

Fortunately, there is an incredibly easy and effective way to identify the active thematic statement you would like to make: looking to the hero's journey for answers. Here’s a simple exercise to help get you on track with what you want to say and how you want to use your hero to say it:

My main hero changes from ____________ to ____________ when he finally ______________.

Let’s take a look at a few contemporary examples to demonstrate. For Liar, Liar you might say:

Jim Carrey goes from negligent father to available father when he finally risks telling the truth.

Or, from Ordinary People:

Donald Sutherland goes from repressed people-pleaser to a brave man of action when he finally speaks and acts on his true feelings. 

Notice how both these statements show very clear cause-and-effect: when Carrey gives up self-serving lies (cause), he becomes a more available parent (effect); when Sutherland risks vocalizing his true feelings (cause), he becomes a bold man of action.

Both these statements can easily be distilled to make general observations about life. Rather than simply saying "My movie is about the theme of lies" or "my movie is about the price of falsehood," the writer of Liar, Liar can instead lay claim to a specific, bold message: self-serving lies prevent you from being a good parent. Is there cause and effect? Yes. Is there a conclusion made? Definitely.

To review, you simply take a look at your hero's journey: where does he start? Where does he end? How is that change facilitated? And then you distill that statement to make a general observation about life.

If we were to revise the script by my recent client, we would forego simply saying the story was “about loneliness" to instead make an active statement such as:

My hero changes from a lonely martyr to a happily connected man when he finally releases the memory of his dead wife.

Now when my client pitches this movie, she will no longer need to hide behind passive statements like, “It’s about loneliness” or “There are themes of repression”; instead, she could engage interested parties with conclusive observations about life, “It’s about the fact that refusing to properly grieve death leads to continued loneliness” or “it’s about the loneliness that plagues us when we fail to move on from the past.” Clear, direct, simple.

The beauty of forcing yourself to make a conclusive statement pertaining to your hero is that you're immediately uniting the theme with the content. Rather than allowing thematic ideas to float around nebulously in the shadows, you're creating an intrinsic connection between your hero and the story's message: your hero essentially proves the theme.

Let's take a look at some practical ways to strengthen that direct connection between story events and theme:

Principle #2: Make Sure Your Hero Proves the Theme

Theme must do the following things in order to be actively dramatized in your story:

• Motivate your hero’s behavior
• Lead to Hero Gains
• Provide Conflict that Stands in the Way of Your Hero
• Lead to Possible Risk
• Raise the Stakes
• Provide a Do-or-Die Choice

1: Motivating Your Character’s Behavior:
Let's revisit the previous statements of transformation to see how they play out in story: Jim Carrey changes from negligent father to committed father when he finally gives up self-serving lies. In order to effectively prove this statement, Jim Carrey has to initially fight on behalf of falsehoods. Liar, Liar doesn’t present some inactive hero who tells a casual lie or two while he otherwise tends to the garden; no, Carrey lies in every single scene; his lies sustain him at work; they sustain him at home; they sustain him through every imaginable encounter. The initial set-up of Liar, Liar shows how Carrey aggressively pursues lies at all costs - in this way, lies become the appropriate centerpiece of the movie.

Likewise, Ordinary People features a main character that fights to please others: Sutherland constantly acts as the middle-man between his wife and son; he constantly appeases both in a way that undercuts their true feelings; he constantly aims to create a happy household that doesn’t exist. Though more outwardly quiet than Jim Carrey, overeager Donald Sutherland approaches repressed people-pleasing with the same level of do-or-die conviction in every scene.

To return to my client, her movie will truly become "about" loneliness if she rewrites the material to show that the main character actively fights on behalf of his isolation – refusing help, driving people away, coming up with excuses to remain alone. Or, if she preferred a subtler route, the main character might sabotage new relationships with outwardly logical reasons that really mask a deeper fear. Whatever the case, the beginning of her movie will now present a character that actively pursues loneliness in just about every scene. Loneliness will not simply be a condition or an aside or a briefly mentioned idea in dialogue – it will be a motivating force that compels constant character choices.

Exercise: What are the starting conditions that will undergo transformation for your hero? How does your hero fight for it in every area of his life? In every beginning scene?

2: Leading to Gains
There has to be a pay-off for this behavior, there has to be a goal or an idea of success that the hero strives for throughout the movie. Human beings don't pursue unhealthy choices for the sake of being dysfunctional - there are always conscious reasons (no matter how flimsy) to justify our less admirable behavior. You must establish your hero's juicy temptation to continue abiding by this motivated force - otherwise, the movie will lack dramatic punch.

For Donald Sutherland, success looks like the continuing approval of his wife – it looks like his son’s successful reintegration back to normal life – it looks like his wife and son getting along. For Jim Carrey, success looks like getting promoted – it looks like winning the case – it looks like worming his way out of sticky situations. These gains are all-important because they justify your hero’s fight and also strengthen his conviction throughout the journey. The lack of sufficient temptation leads to low-stakes drama that will compel viewers to wonder, "Why is this guy fighting a losing battle?"

In my client's more introverted example, the lonely hero might liken success to living an autonomous life where he doesn’t have to make any compromises – ridding himself of an intrusive influence – being comfortable with the familiar - successfully protecting himself from further heartache.

Exercise: What does success look like for you hero as he fights on behalf of that starting condition? What might be three tangible signs of victory or temptation to keep fighting?

3: Providing Active Conflict
There needs to be conflict that stands in the way of the hero’s behavior, that makes the journey much more difficult. Conflict is an essential ingredient because it forces the hero to make higher and higher-stakes recommitments to his own misguided way of life, ultimately setting him up for a point of surrender where he simply says, “This way of living doesn’t work anymore.” The conflict needs to actively challenge the way the hero usually conducts himself.

Obviously, the very premise of Liar, Liar rests on the twist that Jim Carrey can only tell the truth for a single day. This bit of magic immediately throws a wrench in his usual deceptive tactics and forces him to scramble to maintain his normal way of life. Carrey attempts to worm his way around the magic until at last realizing that everyone pays a much-too steep price for the sake of his lies.

In the more subtle Ordinary People, Sutherland comes up against the dawning awareness that his wife simply will not compromise when it comes to tending to their son’s emotional needs; he likewise must contend with the painful reality that his son’s problems cannot be swept under the rug – they will only worsen in the toxic shadow of his mother's silent blame. As a result, Sutherland spends a good deal of the movie making higher-risk decisions to maintain The Happy Home until he at last realizes that this illusion simply cannot be maintained.

My client's movie might see the lonely hero falling in love with someone new – or feeling compelled to be part of an inclusive group – some force that progressively intrudes on his aggressive desire to be alone.

Exercise: What conflict actively stands in the way of your hero pursuing his usual way of life?

4: Possible Risk
Risk basically answers the question, “What does my hero stand to lose if he keeps on acting this way?” Liar, Liar makes it very clear that Jim Carrey will lose his son forever if he cannot muster the strength necessary to drop his lying ways. Similarly, Donald Sutherland stands to lose not only his son’s emotional wellbeing but also his very own pride if he continues to try to play impossible peacemaker.

Risk essentially addresses the second part of our equation: Jim Carrey goes from negligent father to available father..., Donald Sutherland goes from repressed peacemaker to empowered father... In both cases, the hero risks losing the love/respect/emotional needs of his son. By linking the hero's way of life with clear attached risk, we again bring our thematic statement of high-stakes life.

However, all great storytelling packs both sides of the equation with risk. In sacrificing their approach to life, the hero also gives up the potential gains that he had been chasing all along. To reclaim his son, Jim Carrey must risk the professional achievement that has always been so dear to him; meanwhile, Donald Sutherland pays a much steeper price – his authentic voice means risking his long-cherished marriage.

In my client's movie, the hero’s attachment to loneliness might cost him the possible true love of his life; on the other hand, embracing this love might lead to further heartbreak.

Exercise: What does your hero stand to lose if he continues fighting for his way of life? What does he stand to lose if he makes a new chocie?

5: Raise the Stakes

You want your hero's journey and the main theme to be consistently united throughout the story - not sometime companions or infrequent partners but inextricably linked. With this in mind, you should frequently return to your statement of transformation and make sure that it gets progressively proven at several points along the way.

In Liar, Liar, for example, Jim Carrey changes from negligent father to available father when he gives up self-serving lies. If you rewatch the movie, scriptwriters Paul Guay and Stephen Mazur very smartly provide a series of moments that track Carrey's growing accountability: at one point early in his journey, Carrey undergoes the profound revelation that he is in fact a bad father; later, he recognizes himself in the selfish parental behavior of one of his most important clients; later still, he takes ownership of his bad behavior to both his wife and son.

Ordinary People likewise contains several events that demonstrate Sutherland's growing independent voice: he initially entertains a candid discussion about his son at an otherwise superficial suburban party; he visits his son's therapist to talk about his own feelings; he confronts his wife over her need to blame in the face of the grief; he finally confronts her vindictive nature in a public squabble at the golf course. Each one of these actions represent a bolder and bolder expression of his emerging voice throughout the story.

In order for there to be high stakes, these growing awarenesses must be countered by the aforementioned frightening risk. Here, we now flip the hero's statement of transformation for a different cause-and-effect:

In Ordinary People, Donald Sutherland sacrifices any sense of empowerment when he continues trying to please others. Throughout the story, Sutherland makes a series of choices that reflect his fear of losing his wife, that reflect his reliance on repression: he plays middle man between his wife and son; he sides with his wife in an argument over their son's rebellion; he agrees to his wife's proposal that they take a vacation without their son. Mirroring Sutherland's commitment to his new voice, we have a converse commitment to continued people-pleasing. These alternating decisions between repression and authenticity ensure that the drama always reflects the main theme.

To return to my client's movie, three points of healthy grieving might look like this: cleaning out his dead wife's belongings to make room for the new girlfriend, finally holding the public memorial service that he had originally refused and reconnecting with old friends from the time of their marriage. Conversely, three points of stubborn recommitment look like this: refusing to bring the new girlfriend to his dead wife's grave, refusing to be vulnerable to others and refusing to move away from the home he shared with his wife when the new girlfriend needs to relocate for a job.

By using the main thematic statement to determine character choices, we have established an amazing foundation for tight, internally consistent story.

Exercise: Return to your statement of hero transformation. What are three progressive decisions your hero might make that prove the statement true?

Exercise: What is the opposing statement? What are the consequences/risks if your hero remains stuck in the old way of life? What are three progressive decisions your hero might make to show this steep price?

6: Provide a Do-Or-Die Choice

This is where your theme gets proven, it's that point in the story where the hero must finally choose between the old way of life and the new way of life. As discussed above, each choice comes attached with high risk thus making for a dramatic powerhouse. In Liar, Liar, Jim Carrey faces a climactic choice that totally pays off the warring ideas: continue with the lies and risk losing his son forever or drop the lies and risk his career. Jim Carrey chooses truth and, by extension, his son; this way, dropping the lies has led to familial happiness. Likewise, Donald Sutherland has to choose between continuing with the repression of his true feelings and risk his son's happiness or continue his quest for truth and risk his marriage. True empowerment comes when Donald finally acts on his true feelings.

We are essentially addressing the third part of our hero statement, the final change that is undertaken to conclude the transformation. The hero's evolution simply would not pack the same dramatic punch if we failed to see him fighting for a specific way of life, fighting in the face of conflict, balancing major risk - and then making a final do-or-die choice.

Returning to my client, our lonely misanthrope might have to choose between returning to his isolated existence and risk breaking the heart of his new girlfriend or else move away with the new girlfriend to an entirely new place that will force him to leave the home that he shared with his previous wife.

Exercise: What is a do-or-die choice your hero might face that pits him between the established way of life and his possible transformation?

The amazing thing about breaking down the components of theme is that we have covered so many essential principles of great screenwriting: we have identified clear points of transformation for the hero; we have identified clear character goals; we have identified sources of clear, relevant conflict; we have cultivated high-risk drama; and, best yet, we have made a clear dramatic statement. This kind of knowledge of your screenplay is an absolute must if you want to craft a successful film story.

Good luck - and write boldly,

Jamie
February 12, 2006