The Trouble with Creating Harry

One of the first things you learn as you go through all of these books on writing is that there really are no rules. Some people will argue you've got to start with a hook -- the plot, the situation. Others say you've got to start with character -- the people, their motivations.

Some people even say that character and plot are the same thing, which sounds all well and good right up until you look at the blank page and realize this leaves you with nowhere to start.

Anyhow, at the end of the day the truth is you've really got to do a good job with both phases, since the results when you don't are... well, bad.

So the other day I stumbled upon this character checklist from Done Deal Pro, a movie business/screenwriting web site. Basically, it's a (long) series of questions that, according to them, you should be able to answer about any (major) character you're creating.

Go ahead, check it out. I'll wait.

Long, isn't it? It's 58 questions, with numerous sub questions ("numerous" being code for: I didn't feel like counting 'em).

And all sarcasm aside, it's actually a pretty comprehensive list, so I've started using it. And I can report that while some of the questions are valuable, some of them are just, well, stupid.

Example:

What animal would they (the character) choose to be?

Now, I can understand how this might be an important question to answer if the character you're trying to create is, you know, Bambi (or a 12-year-old girl, in which case the answer is almost certainly "pony"). But it's pretty clear that certain questions appear suited to only the most specific kind of character, while to everyone else they're just goddamn irrelevant.

For instance:

When and where was their first sexual experience?

Good character to ask this of: John Holmes

See what I mean? The first time Holmes got his wang some action is a particularly important part of his character. Did the woman run away in sheer horror, afraid of internal injuries? Or did she, you know, keep a line of erotic bowling pins under her bed and was unimpressed?

Either way, it contributed significantly to his life and character, and if you're going to write about him, it's probably something you should know about him.

On the other hand...

Bad character to ask this of: Ellen Ripley (from the Alien series)

Right. I mean, who gives a shit? When you think about it, Ripley really isn't much of a character, particularly in the first movie. Her function is to be practical and resilient (meaning she lives), and to just be stupid enough to search through a spaceship that's about to explode for a fucking cat.

But her first bang? Does it matter? No. And the writers didn't, either.

How do I know that? In the initial drafts of the script (and I'm not making this up), the character of Ripley was a man (baby).

Are they smart? Intelligent? Savvy? Slow witted?

Good: Forrest Gump

I mean, this is the whole goddamn banana. Forrest may not be a smart man, but he knows what love is, right? His I.Q. is so low his mom has to bang a horny school administrator so he won't have to ride the short bus. The whole story is about this good and decent (and stupid) man whose goodness and decency trump his complete inability, for example, to comprehend the rules of football.

Bad: Topper Harley

Or, you know, any character in a broad spoof like Hot Shots!. Topper is a fighter pilot with daddy issues and a history with an Air Force psychiatrist. Everything else is just for fucking laughs. I mean, it's sort of like that scene from Who Framed Roger Rabbit when Roger gets out of his handcuffs.

Eddie Valiant: Do you mean you could get out of those handcuffs at any time?

Roger Rabbit: No, not any time. Only when it was funny.

The characters in spoofs are very much like cartoons. The only rule that matters is if it's funny. If need be, Topper could do calculus. Or he could accidentally take a dump in the sink. Either way.

What is their health like?

Good: Kanji Watanabe

Ok, this one requires a bit of explanation. Watanabe is the lead character in the great Akira Kurosawa movie Ikiru -- the story of a bureaucrat who discovers he has a fatal stomach cancer. The prognosis makes him realize how valueless his life has been, and he sets off to on a journey to find some meaning. This hokey sounding story actually becomes quite powerfully meaningful as Watanabe first tries hedonism, but finding that lacking, is inspired by a woman he meets who makes toys for children.

So, getting back to the question. His health, as you can imagine, is pretty important to the story. It's what sets him off. Like the rest of his life, he's been ignoring it, going day to day in a kind of mindless fog. The sudden diagnosis that his life will soon come to an end brings his day-to-day life to an end, and sets him upon the story of the movie.

Bad: Everyone else

The truth is that the health of a main character very rarely is an issue in a movie, and when it is, it's usually for the plot rather than character.

Consider this cliche:

The main character, a talented but troubled youth, spins his wheels in frustration until one special day, when he meets a wise and powerful master of the talent the youth has. The master mentors the main character for a while, teaching him life lessons. When the main character has almost fully matured, the mentor starts to suffer from headaches.

Uh oh, right? We know what's coming. The mentor is going to die, leaving the main character to use what he taught him to defeat his Archenemy and dedicate himself to the pursuit of truth, justice and the American Way (credits roll).

So all in all I think it's still a fairly good questionairre. Except for one particular question:

What is the most traumatic thing that ever happened to them?

Oh, man. As a writer, whether it be for the screen or stage or whatever, you're in the job of creating conflict. A movie without conflict is totally impossible (or totally boring). And if that's true, the answer to this question -- especially for the main character, if not everyone of value in the story -- better be "THIS MOVIE!" (or play, or radio show, or mime act).

If it isn't, my friends, you'll probably find that you're writing the wrong story. And if you're doing that, shame on you. You asked us to pay attention. We deserved better.