A short time ago, in a workshop far far away...
SHOW WARS
We've all heard it. Most of us have even given that little slice of criticism, "Show; don't tell." But what the hell does it really mean? How are we to conceptualize this piece of advice in a way we understand so that we can work it back into our fiction? Well, lets watch some movies and find out. This week, I’m talking about an old fan favorite: STAR WARS! Specifically, Episode IV: A New Hope.
So we start out the movie with some visually iconic exposition. A long time ago… in a galaxy far far away. Then we get the title of the movie, and then a couple paragraphs of space info-dump through the tried and true narrative tool of Giant Yellow Space Words. Sure, these big words floating through space are visually freakin’ awesome, and that’s why they work in a movie. In a written story? Blah!
Don’t believe me? Watch/read the intro to Episode I: The Phantom Menace. There’s something in there about trade routes, congressional debates...a chancellor? Uhh! I’m bored already! But it’s unfair to pick on The Phantom Menace. It's a whipping boy. I only bring it up to separate our nerd-love of that super-cool neato Teleprompter of the Gods intro from the storytelling mechanics of it.
Let’s all agree that the Giant Yellow Space Words are quite directly TELLING us information. That’s all they do. They don’t describe what the Death Star looks like. They don’t explain to us how Princess Leia feels about it. They don’t show the details of the stolen plans. It is narrative short cut to catch us up to speed and get us into the action. It’s not too different than when you sit in front of a movie your buddy is halfway through watching, and he tries to sum up the plot. “Okay, so these two guys in the suits have this briefcase, and they have to get it back to the guy who throws people out of windows for foot rubs. Then there’s Bruce Willis, he’s boxer but he’s got too much pride. Then there’s Uma Thurman who used to do TV shows but now she just dances and does too much blow.” (More on Pulp Fiction’s plot next week!) Your buddy’s method of storytelling isn’t very effective, right? Neither is George Lucas’ prologue method. It’s all TELLING and no SHOWING.
But let’s not poo-poo the great space-epic that is Star Wars just yet. There is some really awesome story telling that happens as soon as the Celestial Exposition is replaced by super huge space ships and laser. But hit that >> button on your DVD player and lets skip to a scene without nearly as much visual stimuli. Lets find another expository piece that SHOWS instead of TELLS.
Ben Kenboi, Luke Skywalker and the droids have escape the Sandpeople and have stopped by Ben Kenobi’s small desert hovel to regather and discuss a message hidden in an R2 unit. Before they even get to this message in the droid, (a message key to the external plot of the movie) Ben Kenobi mentions something off-camera about Luke’s father, something about his father being in a war. Luke responds, “No, my father didn't fight in the wars. He was a navigator on a spice freighter.” And here is Ben Kenobi’s open door to talk about his old apprentice. “He was a cunning warrior, and a dear friend.” There’s emotion there. There’s a backstory that we don’t really get to see until decades later, all inspired by Alec Guinness’ acting. C-3PO, the annoying comic relief, switches off. Ben Kenobi and Luke start to talk about the heart of the story: the fate of Luke’s father, Luke’s place in the galaxy, and this strange thing called The Force. Think about all the sensory details in that scene that give it it’s vibe. There’s very little music, something of note in this franchise. We’re in a confined humble setting, also in contrast to the rest of the movie. The speaking characters are reduced down to just Luke and Kenobi, something deliberate and done immediately before they really get to the meat of the conversation. These techniques are how you SHOW an internal conflict, in contrast to the TELL prologue.
My point is, Alec Guinness is just a much better SHOW-er than Giant Space Words. Any actor worth their salt would be.
SHOW is done with dialogue and actions, but it’s also done with setting, mood, and voice. TELL is a PA announcement. SHOW is a one to one conversation. SHOW is seeing the emotions on a new parents face as they hold their baby for the first time. TELL is Ikea instructions. SHOW is Ben Kenobi hovering on the memories of a long past friendship forged through trials and combat, crushed by deceit and betrayal. TELL is Giant Space Words. Sometimes TELL is necessary. But SHOW is so much better.
That’s it for this week! Next week we’ll talk about CONFLICT and how to get your story off and running by taking a look at Quentin Tarantino's 1994 masterpiece, Pulp Fiction. See you then!
SHOW WARS
We've all heard it. Most of us have even given that little slice of criticism, "Show; don't tell." But what the hell does it really mean? How are we to conceptualize this piece of advice in a way we understand so that we can work it back into our fiction? Well, lets watch some movies and find out. This week, I’m talking about an old fan favorite: STAR WARS! Specifically, Episode IV: A New Hope.
So we start out the movie with some visually iconic exposition. A long time ago… in a galaxy far far away. Then we get the title of the movie, and then a couple paragraphs of space info-dump through the tried and true narrative tool of Giant Yellow Space Words. Sure, these big words floating through space are visually freakin’ awesome, and that’s why they work in a movie. In a written story? Blah!
Don’t believe me? Watch/read the intro to Episode I: The Phantom Menace. There’s something in there about trade routes, congressional debates...a chancellor? Uhh! I’m bored already! But it’s unfair to pick on The Phantom Menace. It's a whipping boy. I only bring it up to separate our nerd-love of that super-cool neato Teleprompter of the Gods intro from the storytelling mechanics of it.
Let’s all agree that the Giant Yellow Space Words are quite directly TELLING us information. That’s all they do. They don’t describe what the Death Star looks like. They don’t explain to us how Princess Leia feels about it. They don’t show the details of the stolen plans. It is narrative short cut to catch us up to speed and get us into the action. It’s not too different than when you sit in front of a movie your buddy is halfway through watching, and he tries to sum up the plot. “Okay, so these two guys in the suits have this briefcase, and they have to get it back to the guy who throws people out of windows for foot rubs. Then there’s Bruce Willis, he’s boxer but he’s got too much pride. Then there’s Uma Thurman who used to do TV shows but now she just dances and does too much blow.” (More on Pulp Fiction’s plot next week!) Your buddy’s method of storytelling isn’t very effective, right? Neither is George Lucas’ prologue method. It’s all TELLING and no SHOWING.
But let’s not poo-poo the great space-epic that is Star Wars just yet. There is some really awesome story telling that happens as soon as the Celestial Exposition is replaced by super huge space ships and laser. But hit that >> button on your DVD player and lets skip to a scene without nearly as much visual stimuli. Lets find another expository piece that SHOWS instead of TELLS.
Ben Kenboi, Luke Skywalker and the droids have escape the Sandpeople and have stopped by Ben Kenobi’s small desert hovel to regather and discuss a message hidden in an R2 unit. Before they even get to this message in the droid, (a message key to the external plot of the movie) Ben Kenobi mentions something off-camera about Luke’s father, something about his father being in a war. Luke responds, “No, my father didn't fight in the wars. He was a navigator on a spice freighter.” And here is Ben Kenobi’s open door to talk about his old apprentice. “He was a cunning warrior, and a dear friend.” There’s emotion there. There’s a backstory that we don’t really get to see until decades later, all inspired by Alec Guinness’ acting. C-3PO, the annoying comic relief, switches off. Ben Kenobi and Luke start to talk about the heart of the story: the fate of Luke’s father, Luke’s place in the galaxy, and this strange thing called The Force. Think about all the sensory details in that scene that give it it’s vibe. There’s very little music, something of note in this franchise. We’re in a confined humble setting, also in contrast to the rest of the movie. The speaking characters are reduced down to just Luke and Kenobi, something deliberate and done immediately before they really get to the meat of the conversation. These techniques are how you SHOW an internal conflict, in contrast to the TELL prologue.
My point is, Alec Guinness is just a much better SHOW-er than Giant Space Words. Any actor worth their salt would be.
SHOW is done with dialogue and actions, but it’s also done with setting, mood, and voice. TELL is a PA announcement. SHOW is a one to one conversation. SHOW is seeing the emotions on a new parents face as they hold their baby for the first time. TELL is Ikea instructions. SHOW is Ben Kenobi hovering on the memories of a long past friendship forged through trials and combat, crushed by deceit and betrayal. TELL is Giant Space Words. Sometimes TELL is necessary. But SHOW is so much better.
That’s it for this week! Next week we’ll talk about CONFLICT and how to get your story off and running by taking a look at Quentin Tarantino's 1994 masterpiece, Pulp Fiction. See you then!