Chapter Endings and Foreshadowing Your Plot Crisis
Posted by Andie Ryan Blog at 8/2/2010 10:05 PM 
Categories: Chapter Endings, Learning from the Movies
Tags: Moonstruck characters Maggie Gyllenhaal foreshadowing Bad Blake Jeff Bridges plot climax Crazy Heart plotting chapter endings plot crisis
Categories: Chapter Endings, Learning from the Movies
Tags: Moonstruck characters Maggie Gyllenhaal foreshadowing Bad Blake Jeff Bridges plot climax Crazy Heart plotting chapter endings plot crisis
I have a bad habit where movies are concerned. I watch them over and over to see if I can find any flaws. I'm not talking about grips dashing behind the scenery (The Day After Tomorrow) or hairstyles that mysteriously change in the middle of a scene (Moonstruck), but inconsistencies in editing or in the script that create puzzling mood swings -- and resulting gaps in the story.
My latest victim is the wonderful Crazy Heart, the 2009 film starring Jeff Bridges and Maggie Gyllenhaal. It's the story of Bad Blake, an aging outlawin' country singer who rediscovers love and purpose in his grown-bitter life. (If you haven't seen it, don't read any further, because there are some serious spoilers.)
First, I'm going to tell you about a good scene transition...
...in which Bad is on the phone with new-found love Jean (played by Gyllenhaal). They are discussing whether she will come to visit him in Houston. They've just spent a romantic weekend in Taos, yet she is a little undecided -- Bad is an alcoholic and she does not want this behavior around her four-year-old son. The scene ends with Bad asking, "So, you gonna come?" The next scene opens with her and her son getting out of a cab in front of his house, everyone very pleased about the visit.
The scene right before the reunion where Bad Blake asks, "So, you gonna come?" is like one of those great chapter endings that resonates because it leaves a question unanswered for a few seconds, leaves you wondering what will happen next. There is no lengthy character interaction about the pros and cons of the trip, no heavy-handed foreshadowing of what Jean might be setting herself up for. The reasoning, the second thoughts, the sweet hopeful waiting, the obligatory lunch with friends who try to talk one or both of them out of it, and (thankfully) the packing all happen off-camera -- right where they belong. All we needed to know in response to Bad Blake's question was the woman he loved getting out of that cab.
"Never state what's implied." Think of this when you write. What information is really necessary for your reader to know? What is more powerful for having been left unspoken? What actions or behaviors can show your readers what a character is thinking better than if the message hits them like a sledgehammer? This will accomplish a few things for you: reduced sentimentality in your plot, fewer words that are better spent revealing things elsewhere, and stronger characters -- better because they spend little or no time whining on the page about things we all whine about in real life. We all know those scenes already.
Remember this when you write.
All writing should either advance the plot or deepen your understanding of the character. I believe more and more that some of the most powerful sentiments in a story are left unsaid, and that some of the most powerful reasons are left unexplained -- because if we've lived any kind of life at all or experienced any of the really great movies or books, we already know what the reasons are. And I think good writers -- and filmmakers -- know this, even if they might spend a little while putting it into practice.
Now, a faulty scene occurred a little before this good one...
...After a romantic evening following by their weekend getaway in Taos, Bad and Jean are back at Jean's house in Santa Fe. Bad has spent a full day babysitting her son. Bad is leaving to go back to Houston, and is trying to talk Jean into coming with him. She avoids his touch and chooses this time to tell him that she doesn't want her son around alcoholic behavior. He is, not surprisingly, a reluctant listener.
Never state what's implied - again.
The confrontation was ill-timed. The deleted scene (the weekend in Taos) did little to explain what Jean noticed between the long weekend and the morning of Bad's departure to make her verbalize this sentiment at this particular time -- just the opposite, given the growing bond between Bad and her son. These two people are completely head over heels, and their lives are clearly becoming very sweetly entwined, not just in the deleted scene, but in two other scenes that reinforced their growing affection.
Even more critical -- we the audience already know he has a serious problem and that there's a crisis looming. We just don't know how bad a crisis. We don't need another character to foreshadow it for us.
When you see what happens later in the movie -- when Jean makes it clear that she had no illusions about the potential threat Bad posed to her and her son -- you're left wondering whether she should have said anything at all before the film's crisis point. Jean's doubts could have been conveyed more simply -- finding a heap of empty whiskey bottles in the trash, for example. In fact, the early confrontation is even more puzzling given her subsequent decision to go visit him.
If she had remained silent, we would have known she was trying to rationalize things to herself -- and who doesn't understand that? Having Jean express her doubts this soon -- after a series of scenes that imply that the doubts are in check -- made it appear that she was knowingly willing to put her son in harm's way -- not good. This may even be another example of something better left unsaid -- at this particular time. It was also a very clumsy use of foreshadowing.
Sometimes writers try to pack a lot of information into the early pages in an attempt to make their story more interesting right up front. Sometimes writers pack "hints" about things to come into early pages too. But this can cause the same kind of disjointedness as I just described about the movie, fed by often-misapplied advice that a writer has to hook the reader quickly. It can also lead to stories "dropping off," becoming deflated because all the good stuff happens early and the story is basically over before you want it to be. This results in facts coming to light, or sentiments being expressed, at times that are not optimal relative to your plotting or your character development. It also results in many more interesting things not even being incorporated into the story. It's much better if these things spring organically from within the story itself -- in their own time.
Had the clumsy Crazy Heart scene been deleted instead of the scene in Taos, the crisis would have resonated much more deeply because everything beforehand pointed to Bad Blake finally getting his act together. We wanted him to.
Think about this when you write too. Don't give your crisis its legs too soon. it can be implied -- an image of empty bottles -- but it usually doesn't have to be articulated before it actually happens.
Allow your reader to want what the characters want before you take it away.
My latest victim is the wonderful Crazy Heart, the 2009 film starring Jeff Bridges and Maggie Gyllenhaal. It's the story of Bad Blake, an aging outlawin' country singer who rediscovers love and purpose in his grown-bitter life. (If you haven't seen it, don't read any further, because there are some serious spoilers.)
First, I'm going to tell you about a good scene transition...
...in which Bad is on the phone with new-found love Jean (played by Gyllenhaal). They are discussing whether she will come to visit him in Houston. They've just spent a romantic weekend in Taos, yet she is a little undecided -- Bad is an alcoholic and she does not want this behavior around her four-year-old son. The scene ends with Bad asking, "So, you gonna come?" The next scene opens with her and her son getting out of a cab in front of his house, everyone very pleased about the visit.
The scene right before the reunion where Bad Blake asks, "So, you gonna come?" is like one of those great chapter endings that resonates because it leaves a question unanswered for a few seconds, leaves you wondering what will happen next. There is no lengthy character interaction about the pros and cons of the trip, no heavy-handed foreshadowing of what Jean might be setting herself up for. The reasoning, the second thoughts, the sweet hopeful waiting, the obligatory lunch with friends who try to talk one or both of them out of it, and (thankfully) the packing all happen off-camera -- right where they belong. All we needed to know in response to Bad Blake's question was the woman he loved getting out of that cab.
"Never state what's implied." Think of this when you write. What information is really necessary for your reader to know? What is more powerful for having been left unspoken? What actions or behaviors can show your readers what a character is thinking better than if the message hits them like a sledgehammer? This will accomplish a few things for you: reduced sentimentality in your plot, fewer words that are better spent revealing things elsewhere, and stronger characters -- better because they spend little or no time whining on the page about things we all whine about in real life. We all know those scenes already.
Remember this when you write.
All writing should either advance the plot or deepen your understanding of the character. I believe more and more that some of the most powerful sentiments in a story are left unsaid, and that some of the most powerful reasons are left unexplained -- because if we've lived any kind of life at all or experienced any of the really great movies or books, we already know what the reasons are. And I think good writers -- and filmmakers -- know this, even if they might spend a little while putting it into practice.
Now, a faulty scene occurred a little before this good one...
...After a romantic evening following by their weekend getaway in Taos, Bad and Jean are back at Jean's house in Santa Fe. Bad has spent a full day babysitting her son. Bad is leaving to go back to Houston, and is trying to talk Jean into coming with him. She avoids his touch and chooses this time to tell him that she doesn't want her son around alcoholic behavior. He is, not surprisingly, a reluctant listener.
Never state what's implied - again.
The confrontation was ill-timed. The deleted scene (the weekend in Taos) did little to explain what Jean noticed between the long weekend and the morning of Bad's departure to make her verbalize this sentiment at this particular time -- just the opposite, given the growing bond between Bad and her son. These two people are completely head over heels, and their lives are clearly becoming very sweetly entwined, not just in the deleted scene, but in two other scenes that reinforced their growing affection.
Even more critical -- we the audience already know he has a serious problem and that there's a crisis looming. We just don't know how bad a crisis. We don't need another character to foreshadow it for us.
When you see what happens later in the movie -- when Jean makes it clear that she had no illusions about the potential threat Bad posed to her and her son -- you're left wondering whether she should have said anything at all before the film's crisis point. Jean's doubts could have been conveyed more simply -- finding a heap of empty whiskey bottles in the trash, for example. In fact, the early confrontation is even more puzzling given her subsequent decision to go visit him.
If she had remained silent, we would have known she was trying to rationalize things to herself -- and who doesn't understand that? Having Jean express her doubts this soon -- after a series of scenes that imply that the doubts are in check -- made it appear that she was knowingly willing to put her son in harm's way -- not good. This may even be another example of something better left unsaid -- at this particular time. It was also a very clumsy use of foreshadowing.
Sometimes writers try to pack a lot of information into the early pages in an attempt to make their story more interesting right up front. Sometimes writers pack "hints" about things to come into early pages too. But this can cause the same kind of disjointedness as I just described about the movie, fed by often-misapplied advice that a writer has to hook the reader quickly. It can also lead to stories "dropping off," becoming deflated because all the good stuff happens early and the story is basically over before you want it to be. This results in facts coming to light, or sentiments being expressed, at times that are not optimal relative to your plotting or your character development. It also results in many more interesting things not even being incorporated into the story. It's much better if these things spring organically from within the story itself -- in their own time.
Had the clumsy Crazy Heart scene been deleted instead of the scene in Taos, the crisis would have resonated much more deeply because everything beforehand pointed to Bad Blake finally getting his act together. We wanted him to.
Think about this when you write too. Don't give your crisis its legs too soon. it can be implied -- an image of empty bottles -- but it usually doesn't have to be articulated before it actually happens.
Allow your reader to want what the characters want before you take it away.
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