In my last day looking at Oscar nominated scripts, I wanted to shift from best adapted screenplay to a script that has fascinated me, that of animated feature nominee SOUL.
Written by Pete Docter, Mike Jones and Kemp Powers, SOUL tells the story of jazz musician/middle school teacher Joe Gardner, who ends up in a coma just as he's about to get his big break as a musician, and ends up in heaven trying to find his way back to his body with the help of 22, a soul that for some reason is resisting being born on Earth.
When I watch a feature, I'm always trying to break down the script into smaller units. You've got your big picture Poles of the Tent moments: the Problem; the Acceptance of the Quest to Solve the Problem; the Midpoint; the Lowpoint; the Climax.
But I like to drill down a lot farther than that when I can. Every script is different, but as a starting point I try to think in terms of seven or eight chunks. Two in the first act; four in the second; and one-two in the last. And what defines a "chunk" for me is a problem or goal--over 10-15 minutes a character goes from having a problem, to complications that arise from the quest to solve that problem, to some kind of resolution, which creates a new problem or next step.
This is Screenwriting 101, and again sometimes--in fact in some of my favorite scripts, like this year's DRIVEWAYS (which I'm going to post about over the weekend) -- this structure doesn't quite fit. But I do find it very useful both as a way of trying to understand a film as I'm watching it, and as a way of thinking about how to build a feature. That second act especially can be so daunting. When I can break it down to a set of four or maybe discrete chunks, with a goal the character is pursuing in each, it becomes much more manageable. (Sometimes I give each chunk a title as well. Anything to help me keep my eye on the ball as I'm working in that unit.)
For me, what makes SOUL so fascinating structurally is that its chunks are each so dramatically different from one another. The settings, the problems and the goal all change dramatically from unit to unit.
In a nutshell, here's the film.
- Joe looks for his big shot, unexpectedly gets it, but then in the process of seeing it through is injured and in a coma.
- Now in the Great Before, Joe struggles to find his way home before he's sucked into the Great Beyond. In the end his efforts bring him to the attention of the management and he is made a mentor.
- Now a mentor, Joe agrees to find his mentee 22 a spark of passion that will earn them a pass he can use to get back to Earth. Though Joe fails to help 22 find their spark, 22 helps him to find a way back to Earth. But in the end 22 ends up in his body and him in his cat's.
- Now back on Earth, Joe struggles to make things right. But as he does so 22 discovers they like being alive, only to have to give it up so Joe can live again.
- Now finally back on Earth in his body, Joe gets the life that he always wanted, only to discover that actually 22 was onto something with her enthusiasm for just living, and that they deserve their chance on Earth.
- Joe sacrifices his future to go back to the Great Before, where he fights to rescue 22 from being a lost soul so that they can finally begin a life on Earth.
As I say, most scripts have one version or another of a chunk or multi-unit structure. But rarely are those chunks so clear one from the other as in SOUL.
It's worth noting, up until the very end, Joe's goal never changes. He's always trying to get back to his life and opportunity.
But with each new section of that quest, new complications get added--mostly in the form of 22 --that instead of ever getting resolved, only get more complicated themselves.
In this way SOUL is very different than a Fetch Quest movie. It's not like Joe has three things he has to accomplish, and then he'll get what he wants--a structure that's easy to lay out, super easy to understand (which can also make the viewing very satisfying), but doesn't feel organic.
Instead, in most of the beats of SOUL Joe actually accomplishes what wants, but then with that come unintended consequences, e.g. he's now responsible for 22; he's put in the wrong body; 22 doesn't want to leave Earth after all.
It gives the story a great natural fluidity. Also it keeps things from every getting stale, or feeling like they ever could.
Takeaway Question: What are the main chunks of your story? What's the protagonist's goal in each unit? And what are the goals of the other main characters -- the villain, the second protagonist, the sidekick?
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Over the Weekend I'm going to post something about DRIVEWAYS, which I really do think is one of the best scripts of the year. It has a lot in common with MINARI, actually, but with less need to hit the standard structural beats.
Next week: I love the musicals of Stephen Sondheim. In honor of his 91st birthday earlier this month, each day I'm going to pick one favorite Sondheim song and see if there's not something to learn about story from it.
I have no idea if it'll work or just be mostly god sondheim is so cool u guys. We shall see!
