Is “Good” Characterisation Really

About Change?
By Lucy V Hay

At first glance, it would seem the answer to this question is obvious. It’s oft said so-
called “good” characterisation is about change by writing Gurus, script readers,
editors and educators. A character – usually the protagonist – must make a personal
realisation or change something physical (or indeed, both), whilst DOING something
else (usually the situation apparent).

What’s more, the notion of “arc” and “character development” is drummed into
writers of ALL descriptions, but especially screenwriters. Since the advent of
transmedia and convergence of all the mediums then, it makes sense that novelists and
writers of web stuff take note of this idea too, especially if they want to hook the
potential of other platforms.

But is good characterisation REALLY about change? My takes:

Yes
This is the traditional route, as outlined above. It’s what’s taught on screenwriting
courses and it’s what a script editor, producer, publisher or filmmaker might ask you
IF you’re lucky enough to nab a meeting.

And we can see this at work in popular movies throughout the ages, with none more
obvious than movies meant for children and family audiences. Disney, Pixar,
Dreamworks, Fox Animation and Blue Sky Studios movies always feature stories in
which their protagonists must come to some sort of personal realisation during the
main event, such as:

Rapunzel’s realisation she is in charge of her own destiny in TANGLED

Woody’s realisation he must share Andy in TOY STORY

Fiona and Shrek’s realisations who they *really* are in SHREK

Diego and Manny’s realisations what friendship and loyalty is worth in ICE AGE

Mary Katherine’s realisation we all have our place in the world in EPIC

WHY: It’s not difficult to see why family films choose this route: they’re the type of
movies that favour moral messages, so if yours is too – whether a movie, TV script,
novel, web series, comic book or something else – then you probably want to make
sure your character/s come to some sort of realisation in the course of the story,
too. But that’s not the end of it …
No
“WTF?!!” You say. “But a “good” character HAS to change … Saying s/he doesn’t
goes against I’ve everything I’ve learned!”

I know, good ain’t it? Break those rules, baby. Chew on this:

Let’s take two movie icons from cinema history: Ripley from the first ALIEN movie
… and John McClane in the first DIE HARD. Where is the change in their behaviour,
throughout the movie? Tell me.

I’m waiting …

… Waiting

—oooooooh outta time. UNLUCKY.

I put it to you there is NO CHANGE in Ripley or Mcclane’s arcs or development in

those two movies, for the following reasons:

RIPLEY

Ripley is a smart, motivated worker, who does things by the book. We also see she
doesn’t really like or relate to her co-workers that much from the get-go. Some, she
even goes so far as to actively DISlike, such as Parker, Lambert and Ash. But bar the
odd barbed comment here and there (“You’ll get whatever’s coming to you”), Ripley
works on the basis she is there to do a job … And she does it. She won’t even let
Dallas, Lambert and Kane back in when the alien attaches to the latter’s face! The
only reason it gets on board the ship is because Ash overrules her.

In other words then, Ripley is one of life’s SURVIVORS. And guess what: survive
she does.

Yes, yes as the situation goes to Hell and their lives are in danger she modifies her
behaviour towards Lambert and Parker, but that’s a survival tool, not evidence of any
specific change in personal arc at grass roots level. Don’t forget, Ripley DOESN’T
modify her behaviour towards Ash for the very same survival reason: she is suspicious
of his motives and she’s right to be. It’s her who finds out about The Company’s
infamous directive, “crew expendable”. And yes, she does shed a tear for Lambert and
Parker when she finds them dead in the cargo bay – but again, that’s less to do with
“change” and more to do with the fact that if she didn’t, not only would she seem like
a psychopath, the audience would not like her as much.

JOHN McCLANE

John McClane is an old fashioned guy. He’s stubborn and a pain in the ass when it
comes to his pride and his honour, which is signified by his troubled relationship with
his wife, Holly. Not only has she taken the kids and moved to further her career, she’s
had to do it without John, because apparently “he’s a New York Cop who doesn’t
know how to do anything else” and certainly he does very little, if anything, to
persuade us the opposite of this during the course of the movie. Granted, he wants to
fix his relationship, but lacks the emotional tools to do it, even when Holly reaches
out to him. Instead he sabotages this peace offering by quibbling about her using her
maiden name, which is Gennarro.

So McClane starts a proud man and ends one, standing on the doorstep of the
Nokatomi Building the victor – because he would not give in, no matter what.

“Oh, but wait!” You say, “He introduces Holly to the news crew as “Gennarro”!!”
You’re right, he does … but what does she say? She CORRECTS John and tells the
news team her name is McCLANE. So any change he MAY have had to make,
however small, is effectively null and void: he gets his own way and the victory is his
AGAIN. (And let’s not forget there’s a very important reason pertaining to the PLOT
she was called Genarro anyway … It meant the terrorists didn’t realise Holly’s
hostage value as McClane’s wife until the second turning point).

WHY: It’s no accident that GENRE films meant for adults feature icon characters
like Ripley and McClane who effectively START and END the same; these movies
were made BEFORE the majority of writing courses, books etc and their (frankly
flawed) obsession with character “change” being the be-all and end-all. Whilst it is
of course possible to write a genre movie (or indeed anything else) with a great and
effective character who DOES change (GRAVITY, anyone?), they’re few and far
between as scribes essentially overcomplicate characters’ motivations and screw them
up. So, learn a lesson from cinema history: worry about giving your genre
characters a DISTINCT PERSONALITY instead, like Ripley and McClane.
Maybe
But as with anything in this writing lark, it’s not about either/or: whilst you MAY or
MAY NOT introduce change via your protagonist, there are also other ways too –
which your protagonist MAY or MAY not be a significant catalyst for. Like these:
The Change Agent # 1

Sometimes protagonists are change agents. That is, the protagonist is so unusual
and/or so remarkable, they inspire the other characters around them, for good or ill.
An obvious example of this would be Forrest, in FORREST GUMP. His simple
outlook on life, inspired by his mother’s steadfast belief in him (and immortalised in
the famous line “Life is like a box of chocolates … you never know what you’re
gonna get”) is not his OWN call to action, but the inspiration for others’, like Jenny
and Lieutenant Dan.

The Change Agent # 2

Sometimes a protagonist is lost and floundering, not knowing where to turn. This type
of character often turns up in the Romantic Comedy genre and a secondary character
as mentor will inspire them *somehow* to get a hold of their life and steer it in the
right direction, even if the protagonist does not know that’s what’s happening, as in
500 DAYS OF SUMMER. Summer is a Manic Pixie Dream Girl, an archetype often
dismissed by feminist commentators, yet I feel is *generally* a positive
representation: she knows what she wants and won’t apologise for it. This is signified
by Summer’s marriage and pregnancy at the end of the film, to someone else. This in
turn teaches Our Guy to take a chance when he goes for the job interview and meets
the woman on the sofa.

The Everyman

This guy’s – and it nearly always is a guy – plain “ordinariness” is what’s going for
him: the audience find it easy to imagine themselves in his place. During the course of
the narrative The Everyman must (usually) learn a life lesson (especially in comedy),
though in Thrillers he may simply have to vanquish the beast, such as David Mann in
DUEL or Alex Cross in KISS THE GIRLS.

The Passive Protagonist

Passive protagonists often turn up in the comedy genre and only become problematic
when there is not another character – whether antagonist or secondary – to pick up the
reins and drive the action FOR them. Typically, they will wrench the reins back in the
resolution and fix everything that needs to be done, though sometimes not, as in
HARSH TIMES, which is definitely NOT a comedy. There’s some debate over
whether Jim is an antihero or an antagonist, but I believe Mike is the protagonist,
whom Jim leaves with a single, devastating choice in the last few minutes of the
movie.

The Anti Hero

The Anti Hero may turn up in comedy, such as Marvin in AS GOOD AS IT GETS –
and really, it’s up to the other characters to accommodate him, than the other way
around; in contrast, Phil must learn to accommodate others if he is going to live the
life he wants (and get the girl) in GROUNDHOG DAY. The Anti Hero may also turn
up in the Thriller and/or Action-Adventure, such as Bryan in TAKEN or Snow in
LOCKOUT. These guys will not change; we go from hating them to loving their
unapologetic – and sometimes morally relative – outlooks on life.

Dual Protagonists

Sometimes dual protagonists have the same motivations, for different reasons, such as
“save our loved ones … save the world”, like Steve and Dave in INDEPENDENCE
DAY. Other times, one half of a duo makes a realisation before the other one,
meaning they’re not really dual protagonists at all as he becomes the antagonist, such
as John versus Jane in MR AND MRS SMITH.

Unreliable Narrator

The Unreliable Narrator is most commonly associated with novels, but a movie that
pulls this off with aplomb is Liz in THE HOLE. Liz presents herself as both victim
and victor throughout this story, so the audience – signified about The Police
Psychologist – can never be sure if the schoolgirl is telling the truth or not … And by
the time we are? It’s TOO LATE.

In other words then?

You’ve got a SHEDLOAD of characterisation tricks up your sleeve, so why the hell
only use the first one??
CONCLUDING:

There’s all these different ways of presenting a change, or not presenting one AT ALL.
This notion that characters MUST change – “or bust” – is simply false.

In answering the question, “is good characterisation about change?” we must

conclude “yes” … AND “no”. Change in the protagonist is JUST ONE of the many
tools in the writer’s arsenal and frankly, the former is massively overused at present.

What can YOU do, that’s different to the “usual”?