Category Archives: Characters

al Awlaki, the “Uncanny Valley” and Writing Empathetic Characters

Recently, al Awlaki (the infamous “American” Al Qaeda) was killed by American forces. He was viewed as a great threat because of his ability to speak to the domestic population of the United States in their own language and culture and to inspire terrorist acts by those susceptible to his message of jihad.

While these allegations are certainly true, they alone do not explain the intensity with which Awlaki was both feared and despised. In fact, there is another quality he possessed that amplified the trepidation and derision he precipitated: he fell into the “Uncanny Valley.”

“Uncanny Valley” is a term generally used to define any non-human entity whose attributes are just human enough to be disturbing. For example psychological test have been run that chart an empathy line against robots whose features range from fully mechanical to completely human in appearance. At first, the results were predictable: the more human the robot appeared, the more empathetic people were to it.

But, as the human qualities reached a point where they became “almost human” there was a sudden drop-off in empathy as steep as a cliff. In fact, the reaction to such an entity reached a point where it plummeted below zero empathy into the realm of negative empathy, documented as “revulsion.”

The same test was also run using stuffed animals and the results were essentially the same – our empathy increases as human likeness increases until a sharp break point is reached where additional increases quickly reverse the trend. Once the line hits bottom and as human similarity continue to increase, eventually empathy rises again into the positive, and ultimately reaches maximum when the non-human entity appears absolutely identical to a human, even though one knows it really is not.

Now this aspect of human psychology has tremendous implication for writers, especially in the creation and development of characters. While it has been explored directly in such works as the I, Robot novels by Asimov (and especially well handled in the movie, Bicentennial Man starring Robin Williams) it is always at work in the relationship between an audience and the fictional entities that populate the stories it reads and watches.

Let me propose that the Uncanny Valley not only pertains to the visual qualities of non-human entities, but to how we intuitively sense their humanity, almost as if we were automatically and subconsciously performing a Turing Test on every person we meet.

I believe we are. I believe we are prepared to accept something totally alien as a risk of unknown potential, while any creature we can identify as of human essence is a known quantity and, therefore, a predictable risk at worst. But some one or some thing that is just off-kilter enough is loose-canon when it comes to threat. We might find ourselves lulled into complacency only to be set-upon when our guard is down.

For example, we are afraid of an earthquake or tornado because it is random and chaotic. We are afraid of bears in a different way because they share our emotions and we understand what they might do. But a Terminator or a demonic spirit is far more terrifying for while we are able to frame it as an entity in our minds, we are unable to fathom its motivations or to predict its behavior, which are often contrary to humanity.

In contrast, consider animated cartoons in which cars, cattle, or cantaloupes may all engender empathy from an audience because they are carefully (albeit intuitively) crafted to fall far enough from human-looking to avoid the Uncanny Valley on one side, and close enough to human in spirit to avoid the Uncanny Valley on the other.

Many of the disfigured humans of fiction are often drawn to revolt us in appearance while connecting to us in their humanity. And, of course, many characters are written to illustrate that even the most beautiful can have revolting souls.

Now for the sake of a mental exercise, consider how this holds true in real life. For example, most of us find the Elephant Man uncomfortable to look at, yet empathize deeply with his heart. But what of those in our own live who have been badly burned or born with physical defects? What must that life be like when you are constantly reminded, subliminally, that others shun you as non-human? There are lessons here for our spiritual growth and stories to be told.

Let’s shift gears, for a moment, and go to the opposite extreme – the science of mind, the neurology of psychology. If you go to Wikipedia and look up Uncanny Valley you’ll find graph that shows the sudden dip and re-rise of the empathy line.

I was immediately struck by how similar that line is to the “action potential” of a neuron in the brain. After a neuron fires, it is chemically inhibited from firing again immediately. Rather, the “action potential” goes from maximum, down a steep cliff during the actual firing to a negative action potential until the forces that lead to the ability to fire recharge.

I’m going to make a leap here and share with you an aspect of the psychology behind Dramatica – a theory we call Mental Relativity. As part of the theory we propose (because of what we have observed in our model of story structure) that dynamics in the electro-chemical operations of the brain are reflected, almost as fractals, in the high-level dynamics of psychological processes. Simply put, psychology exhibits sympathetic vibrations of the patterns of physical brain function.

Now, I realize there are no studies (to my knowledge) that explore this, but is absolutely is a prediction of the Mental Relativity theory. But why would this be? Consider one potential explanation…

It is one of our most essential survival tools to be able to recognize objects, patterns, edges, what is part of something and what is not. The same curve we see in neurons or in the Uncanny Valley actually is just a reflection of our ability to define the limit of things.

We use this to see a rock in our path or to determine if figure coming through the mist is a friend or foe. It is what allows us to describe the nature of an object or a person and the scope of an argument or a story.

And so, with an aspect of our minds that is so foundational and all pervasive, a wise author would give it heed when building characters to be attractive or off-putting, a wise person would think twice about from whom they turn away (and why), and as for al Awlaki, well, he was American enough to connect with those who felt isolated, but just a little bit too non-American to avoid our ire.

More Questions from Alice

A response and further questions from the Dramatica user who was answered in my last post: Can Two Characters Share the Same Traits?

Hi Melanie

Okay, that is understood, and makes sense, and I like the logic, but this makes the software somewhat limiting in my view. I think there should be a facility to show the character in conflict with themselves, so for instance, they have a trait, and then a conflicting trait, so they have inner conflict.

My question is though, how do I build a character with more than one trait, even where that trait is contradictory and not a neat amplifier, as in – But if you want to fully explore the individual traits and get down to that level of human qualities, then you build each character one element at a time –

How do I do that using the actual software, I mean do I have to create a character with one trait and then build that same character again, (name, cartoon image etc) and give them another single trait?

If I want to build up more complexity within that character? How does the software cope with that? What do I need to do in actual step by step terms with the actual software?

Or is the software based on the assumption that most characters will be hosts to one individual trait or another, so that the storymind works as a whole? I understand this, and it’s a great concept, really, but it still falls short when you want to examine a character’s psychological nuances. My novel is a character based, it’s a novel about psychological journey to inner integrity, so conflicting elements are vital to the whole concept.

Sorry to be awkward, but I do think if the software could be near perfect. At the moment I feel rather hampered by the character build aspect.

All the best

Alice

My response:

Hi, Alice

Okay, if I were to condense your message down to two points:

1. How do you assign more than one element to a character?

2. Dramatica seems to lack psychological depth for characters.

In response to question one, go to the Build Characters area that has the grid of character elements. Then, when you create a character (and its character icon), simply click and drag the icon to the first element you wish that character to have. Then, click and drag the character icon again to the next element you wish it to have. The character’s icon will appear on the grid in the square representing each of the elements you drag it to. In this way you can add as many elements as you wish to each character. What’s more, as you drag other characters (icons) to the grid, the position in the gird of one character relative to another predicts the kind of relationship they will have. Diagonal positions are most contentious because diagonal elements are most opposite. Horizontal relationships are Companion because they go hand in hand, sometimes for good (a positive Companion relationship) or for bad (a negative Companion relationship). Vertical relationships are dependencies, including co-dependencies, which can also be positive or negative in nature. So, as you see, you can use the kind of relationship you want between characters to determine which elements they will have, or choose the elements you want them to have and let that determine their relationships. Clearly, relationships are determined by the traits of each character. And further, since complex characters may have many traits and come into conjunction with other characters in many squares in different ways, very complex relationships may be built and/or described since the characters may be contentious in regard to two of their traits, but positive companions when issues arise in regard to two other traits they possess.

As for question two about the psychological depth. Unlike life in which we all have a myriad of central problems, each becoming paramount in a different context and in which contexts are constantly changing, stories are about a single central problem (the message issue of the story) and how it is explored in a single fixed context (the thematic topic)

Since characters represent facets (traits or problems solving techniques) of our minds the elements they possess are fixed. But, as in our own minds, there are two special characters – the Main Character who represents our sense of self (“I think, therefore I am”) and that “devil’s advocate” voice within us that takes the contrary position on any issues so we weigh the pros and cons of going with our old tried and true method or trying something new the might be better but is unproven. In fact, it is this conflict over methods, attitudes, ethics, morals, word views or personal codes or paradigms that defines the Subjective Story while the Objective Story is defined by the attempt to achieve the logistic goal of the plot.

All of the Dramatica structure is divided into four large areas called Domains. One is about situations, one is about attitudes, one is about activities, and the other is about manners of thinking. The Objective Story will explore one of these in the effort to achieve the goal. The Subjective Story will explore another in the push and pull relationship over the message between the Main Character and its opposite. And the Main Character and its counter part will each get one of the remaining two parts of the structure.

So, Main and the other character (called the Obstacle, Impact, or Influence Character) each get a whole 1/4 of the structure to describe their inner growth, angst, or deliberations. Their psychologies are quite complex as a result, not to mention the special relationship between them that is far more complex than the simple Objective Characters who only represent traits.

Yet in stories, we see that many characters might be explored deeply, not just these two. That is a parallel for how we deal with more than one problem in real life. Since a story, by definition, will center on a single problem, to create complex psychological explorations around an Objective Character other than the Main or Obstacle character, you create sub-plots. In a sub-plot, one of the other Objective characters becomes the Main or Obstacle character in another story that hinges, plot-wise or subject matter-wise on the first story but is not actually part of the main story – just a side trip or a tributary.

In this way, as a Main or Obstacle character in a sub-plot or sub-story, you can greatly increase the psychological complexity of as many of the objective characters as you like with a separate sub-story for each of the characters you wish to deepen.

Ultimately, this creates a very rich set of characters and a very complex and subtle plot, while avoiding muddying the original story through the use of tributary sub-stories.

But, that’s pretty heady stuff – not what people are usually prepared to start out with when they first come to Dramatica which can be daunting enough even on a superficial first introduction to it. So, we hold that information back until people master the single story structure before immersing them in the web of multiple sub-stories and many complex internal explorations of characters.

Hope this helps.

Melanie

 

Can Two Characters Share the Same Traits?

A Dramatica user recently wrote:
 
Hello Melanie
 
I need help, I’m trying to assign characteristics to my characters, I have a multitude of characters, and many share the same characteristics but the software seems to only allow one character a set characteristic, example ‘temptation’ if I try to assign it to more than one character, it gets eliminated from the second.  This is a severe limitation as my characters are not simple archtypes, but complex beings, is there a way around this?
 
All the best
 
Alice
 
My reply:
 
Hi, Alice
Here’s some information to about characters and Dramatica that should solve your problem.

First of all, Dramatica has 64 elements from which to make up characters – they are kind of a like a spectrum of human qualities such as “logic” or “avoidance”

Stories are partly about making an argument to the audience that a particular trait is a good one or a bad one to have. To make that argument, only one character should have that trait at a time. Otherwise, the message gets confusing.

But, a character may have one trait, then drop out of the store such as traveling away for a while or dying, and another character may show up to represent that trait. This is called a “hand-off” because the original character illustrating the value of a given trait is replaced by another who carries on the “argument.”

Archetypes, on the other hand, are collections of 8 traits that all belong to the same “family” – that is to say they are all similar, just like you might group colors like Scarlet, Crimson, and Cardinal together in a family called “Red.”

So, archetypes are like primary colors, and as such, they do no need to explore each element independently because your readers or audience will accept that you aren’t going into more detail on characters for this particular story. This is useful in action stories or epic romance stories where the characters are no so important as the things that happens to them.

But if you want to fully explore the individual traits and get down to that level of human qualities, then you build each character one element at a time.

A character need have only one element to be a functional character in the story’s structure. And, you should never put an element and its opposite in the same character as it become very hard for a person to represent, for example, both “order” and “chaos.” It makes it hard for the audience to understand and rather grid-locks the character as they cannon fully embrace either of the conflicting traits without the other hobbling them.

If you do want conflicting traits in a character, keep in mind the difference between a character and a player. A player is just the “host” for a character – essentially a person, place or thing that can potentially exhibit (illustrate) the traits (elements) in action, so as to make the story’s argument about those qualities.

Normally, there is one character per player, but in stories such as Doctor Jeckyl and Mister Hyde, there are two different personalities inhabiting the same player. In such cases, each will have its own collection of traits, some or all of which may be in conflict with the other. But, they didn’t inhabit the same body at the same time (being the controlling personality, as it were).

And that is how elements work among characters as well. You may have a mob that is a “collective character” in which it is treated as a single individual player and therefore the individual members of the mob may all share the same traits, but single individual characters should never share traits at the same time as it splits the argument and muddies the message.

Let me know if you have any other questions and I hope this helps.

Melanie

StoryWeaver – Exposition of Structural Character Roles

A StoryWeaver user recently asked:

Inside the story weaver software in the stage 3 Exposition part, inside the character folder, and precisely at the structural role, it says I should describe how I will reveal to my readers or audience the structural role of my characters.  Please does that mean that I should bring out the story points and then describe how each character played, and put them in scenes or dialogue, please what doe this mean?

My reply:

The structural roles are the functions of the characters as players in the plot, rather than as people. For example, the Protagonist is the one leading the effort to achieve the goal. If you have a character who is the Sage, he would promote the use of Wisdom in solving the story’s problems, just as a Reason Archetype would promote (and employ) logic as the best way to solve the problem.
 
But the question StoryWeaver is asking in Stage 3 (Exposition), Characters:
 
“Describe how you will reveal your characters’ structural roles to your readers or audience.”
 
 is all about the kinds of instances you will create in your story that will allow your reader or audience to identify the structural roles represented by each of your characters. You don’t need at this point to write actual scenes or fully developed dialog but rather describe the kinds of scenes or dialog you will use to convey this information about your characters to your readers or audience.
 
For example, you might answer this question in part by saying, “Bob has an argument with Sally in which he says here personal issues have no bearing on his decision because survival is at stake and that makes the logic of the situation the only factor that should be considered.” This then describes one way in which you will illustrate to your readers or audience that Bob is a Reason Archetype.
 
Try to come up with as many different examples as you can to convey the structural role (function) of each of your characters. You don’t have to use them all, but later when you build your scenes or chapters you can select from your examples the ones you want to use, rather than having to devise them while you are also trying to write.
 
For example, another instance of Bob being a Reason Archetype might be that he organizes all the foods on his plate in a particular order because his research has shown that this sequence of consumption will assist in digestion. Another character asks him, “But doesn’t it taste better to mix them up and eat several of them in the same bite?” Bob replies, “Irrelevant.”
 
Hope this helps.
 
Melanie

Archetypes and the Crucial Element

A writer recently asked:

Is it necessary to have the main character as one of the archetypes?
 
No. The Main Character point of view must be attached to one of the character elements, not necessarily to an archetype. A story can have no archetypes if it uses nothing but complex characters, each representing one or more elements. In a perfect structure, the Main Character (first-person point of view in the story) should be attached to the Crucial Element. Each element represents a human quality or attribute. You can combine them in many ways, just as they are in real people. But one of those attributes will be the subject of the story at large – the human quality that is under examination by the author. That element must be possessed by the Main Character so that the readers/audience can stand in the shoes of that character and feel what it is like to possess the attribute in question. Naturally, the Main Character can also possess other elements, but the Crucial Element is a must.
 
There is one exception to this, and that is if the Crucial Element is possessed by the Obstacle (Impact, or Influence) Character rather than the Main Character. In this case, the Main Character will possess the “opposite” quality to that of the Crucial Element. (Whether the Crucial Element is with the Main or Obstacle Character determine where you are positioning the readers/audience in regard to the attribute under study – do you want them to feel as if they have the quality or are simply observing the quality – do you want them to be on the side of the quality or on the opposite side of the argument?
 
A second question:
 
Do you think it could work having the main character as the skeptic, whose sidekick provides the conflict as well as the support?
 
Actually, If you are using archetypes, the Main Character can be any archetype – even the Antagonist. As you surmised the Skeptic and Sidekick archetypes are opposites. The Sidekick is the faithful supporter and the Skeptic is the doubting opposer. So, if the Main Character were the Skeptic, the issue at the heart of the story’s argument would be doubt or opposition. The Obstacle Character would then be the Sidekick and contain the opposite element (or the reverse, if the Crucial Element is given to the Obstacle).
 
One problem that occurs with pure archetypes – the Crucial Element Main/Obstacle relationship forces the Obstacle Character to be the opposite archetype to that of the Main Character. For example, if the Main Character is the Protagonist, then the Crucial Element function will require the Obstacle Character to the the Antagonist. This causes difficulties because the plot struggle over the goal will be between Protagonist and Antagonist, and the same to people will duke it out over the Crucial Element as Main Character and Obstacle Character. This is hard to follow for a reader/audience since they have trouble separating the plot argument about the best way to go about achieving the goal from the personal argument about the best human quality to possess.
 
This often leads to melodrama, which occurs because (with both arguments intertwined) the author lets the excitement and energy of one of the arguments bridge the gap over holes in the other argument. In fact, both arguments often end up with holes because the passionate moments of one of the arguments masks holes in the other. So, neither argument is full developed and it is only the strength of the storytelling that carries the story forward, not a full logical exploration of the subjects at hand. And the, by definition, is what creates the feeling of melodrama as opposed to true drama.
 
To avoid this, writer’s often remove the counterpoint to the Crucial Element from the archetype who is opposite to the Main Character and give that one element to some other archetype. This effectively moves the Obstacle Character point of view from the opposite archetype to the new one. In this manner, the Main Character now has two separate relationships – a plot based one with its archetype opposite and the human quality argument with the archetype who is the new Obstacle Character. In essence the single relationship that held both arguments is now split into two relationships creating the classic “Dramatic Triangle”.
 
In this more refined arrangement, the Main Character and its associate archetype have it out with its opposite archetype in the plot and the Main Character point of view comes into conflict with the other archetype who now has added that opposite of the Crucial Element. That other character is often the “Love Interest” or some other personally connected character who argues with the Main Character about the proper way to comport itself, even as the Main Character is battling its archetypal opposite over the goal.

Should all characters be developed as much as the Main Character?

A writer asks:

Hello

I’m trying to write a novel and I have a quick question. I have my main character developed and some of the other characters. I want to know do I have to developed every single character in great detail like I did the main character?

Tony

Hi Tony

The Main Character is a special case.  As you may know, most characters are oriented to the plot (we call them “Objective Characters” in Dramatica because we identify them by function in the story).

But there are also two “Subjective Characters” – the Main Character and the Obstacle Character (also called the Impact or Influence Character).

The Main Character is special because he or she grapples with an inner dilemma that is at the heart of the story’s issues.  In fact, success or failure in the overal goal of the story depends upon how the Main Character decides in regard to that dilemma.  (Think of Scrooge in “A Christmas Carol” or Hamlet.)

This, however, does NOT mean that the Main Character has to be the Protagonist.  The Protagonist is the prime mover in the effort to achieve the goal – it represents our initiative and tenacity.  It is an Objective Character because it is identified by its function in the story/plot.

The  personal “subjective” internal struggles can be given to any one of the Objective Characters.  That character then becomes the Main Character by definition.  And, the character given the additional role of representing the opposite belief system or opposite attitude to that of the Main Character becomes the Obstacle Character.

Besides whatever role they have the plot, the Main and Obstacle Characters also have a story-long relationship battling over their ideals, with one ultimately prevailing in that realm.  And whichever one prevails (right or wrong) will be the key to achieving success or failure in the quest for the goal.

So, naturally, there is a lot more to explore in the Main Character – all its personal issues and its paradigm battle with the Obstacle Character.  And that means it needs to be developed in far more detail than any of the other Objective Characters just fulfilling their roles in the plot.

Want to know more?

Read all our most recent articles about the Main Character

Mentors, Guardians, Obstacles & Star Wars

Here’s an unusual situation where both Chris and myself independently answered the same question from a writer. Comparing our two replies is both interesting and also sheds light on two different ways of looking at the same central story structure concept.

A writer asks:

In your book, Dramatica, you have Obi Wan as the obstacle character. This is counter-intuitive. In every other story methodology, Obi Wan is the mentor, and Dark Vader is the opponent. Darth Vader directly opposes Luke.

Please explain.

Chris Huntley’s reply:

Most every other story methodology does not identify the four throughlines and their significance.

In the “big picture,” the empire is at war with the rebels. The constant warring between the factions causes trouble for everyone. In that throughline, the empire, led by Gran Mof Tarkin, is shown to be the “bad guys,” the rebels are the “good guys,” the farmboy from Tatooine is the hero driving the story forward, the retired Jedi master is the guardian (mentor), and the emperor’s henchman is the one that seems to mess up everyone’s agenda. This throughline is the logical part of the author’s position.

Luke, as the Main Character, is someone who dreams of being a do-gooder, or saving the day, etc., yet he is stuck on a planet as far from the core (and action, he thinks) as is possible. He has Jedi blood, unbeknownst to him, which gives him skills and powers beyond his years. It is raw talent that needs training and focusing. He tests himself by putting himself in dangerous positions, which turn out to be far more dangerous than he can handle (e.g. the Tuskan Raiders, Breaking Leia out of the cell block, etc.). This throughline provides the personal side for the audience to empathize and step into the story.

Obi-wan is Impact Character. He is Luke’s trainer, not only in the use of the Force but in learning to believe in himself — to trust himself…to trust the Force. This throughline provides the influence needed to force Luke to grow.

The relationship throughline is about the Mentor/Student relationship that develops between Ben and Luke. This throughline is the emotional center of the author’s position.

NOTE: In Star Wars (1977), Darth Vader does not directly oppose Luke. In fact, the two only have one somewhat direct confrontation at the end of the story in the trench on the Death Star. In subsequent films, the two come into direct confrontation, but that is, as they say, another story.

Best regards,
Chris Huntley
Write Brothers Inc.

My reply:

The Obstacle Character, by definition, is the one who stands in the path of the Main Character approaching life in his same old usual way. He is an obstacle to staying in a mental rut. It is the Obstacle Character who constantly pressures the Main Character to change his ways, to alter his manner of thinking or of doing things. Clearly that is Obi Wan, not Vader.

Now, while Obi Wan may traditionally be labeled a “mentor”, that label doesn’t work for every Obstacle Character. For example, an Obstacle Character may not like, care about, or even be aware of the Main Character. It could be a rock star whom the Main Character will never meet. But, by following the disintegrating life of the drug-using rock star in the tabloids, the Main Character comes to realize that he must change his ways and does, perhaps. Therefore, this character has been an obstacle to the Main Character continuing down the same path – his original life course, but he would hardly be seen as a stereotypical “mentor”, which is far too limiting a label.

Further, in the original Star Wars movie, “Episode IV – A New Hope” (to which I believe you are referring) Darth does not directly oppose Luke. Darth opposes everyone. He chokes his own people. It is he who comes up with the plan to release the Millennium Falcon with a tracking beacon which ultimately leads to the rebels getting the plans that destroy the death star (“This had better work, Vader….”).

Darth is a character we call the Contagonist – a name we coined to describe this character who is not the head villain (the Emperor as represented by the Gran Mof Tarkin and all his storm troopers is the real villain of Star Wars, as we see even more definitively in the prequels. Darth, in fact, is diametrically opposed to his old master, Obi Wan. That is why the two of them must battle one on one.

Now, this is not to say that Darth is the opposite of Obi Wan’s function as Obstacle Character. There are two kinds of characters in stories: Objective Characters who are seen by their function, such as Antagonist and Protagonist, and two special Subjective Characters who are seen by their points of view, such as Main Character and Obstacle Character. Luke and Obi Wan (and any Main and Obstacle Characters would) have two different perspectives on life, and it is the heart of the story to see if the Main Character will or will not be convinced to adopt the Obstacle Character’s view.

This is what leads to the leap of faith or moment of truth for the Main Character. In Luke’s case, Obi has been on his case for the entire movie to reach out and touch the force, to trust himself and his abilities, even so far as to put him in a helmet with the blast shield down during training so Luke could only rely on his own feelings. That is why just before Luke destroys the death star, he is using the targeting computer and Obi’s voice returns to remind him, trust your feelings, Luke. Luke finally let’s go, trusts in himself and turns off the computer, much to the dismay of the command center. And yet, it is that decision, driven by a story-long pressure from Obi Wan as the Obstacle Character, that brings him to that necessary step if he is to ultimately succeed. (Imagine how unfulfilling it would be if he turned off the computer and as a result failed to destroy the death star, or if that scene had not been even included with Obi Wan’s voice – the ending, though a success, would have lacked something that helped make it so fulfilling).

But, that is only Obi’s subjective character role. Obi Wan also has an objective character role – the Guardian (comprised of Support and Conscience and more). The Guardian is an archetype, meaning it is actually made up of a number of different character attributes that all share a similar flavor, just as in chemistry all the elements naturally fall in to families, such as the rare earth elements or the noble gases. That’s why chlorine and fluorine are so similar, for example.

When all the elements from one family end up in the same character, it is an archetype. So, the opposite of the Guardian is the Contagonist (made up of Oppose and Temptation, among others). By “nature” he opposes everyone, not just Luke. But, his function to oppose is in DIRECT conflict with Obi Wan’s nature to support. Similarly, Darth’s “Temptation” (of the dark side) is balanced and diametrically in conflict with Obi’s “Conscience” (to follow the force).

So, while Luke in the plot must get past Darth who, like many implementations of the Contagonist archetype, is essentially the empires guard dog, it is Obi who opposes Luke’s desire to be part of the system with all its tech toys and weapons and convinces him to trust his own inner abilities.

Of course, there is far more going on in Star Wars than this simple exploration. And, each of these concepts appears in different ways in different stories. But, this should at least outline for you the purpose of the Obstacle Character (also called the Impact or Influence Character) and why Darth, though dressed in black, is not the real villain of Star Wars, just the henchman of the villain.

Melanie Anne Phillips
Co-creator, Dramatica

Four Archetypes

Excerpt from an upcoming book on story structure:

So far I have spoken of characters as representing or embodying fragments of the overall Story Mind, but that is misleading; characters are much more orderly than that. The term “fragments” provides an easy visualization that each character is a part of a larger whole and that perhaps they are different shapes and sizes. This is all true. But the shapes are regular and the sizes are in specific increments.

In this section we are going to introduce the largest of the characters, called Archetypes, and then in succeeding sections we’ll break them down into progressively smaller components until we arrive at the elemental building blocks of characters called, not surprisingly, Elements.

It is these Elements which form the bottom layer of the Dramatica Table of Story Elements and, in fact, provide the Table its name. It is at this level in which the chemistry of characters is born. Some elements combine to form complex aspects of the human psyche they represent. Others are like oil and water. A character may even exist as a single element, simple and pure, yet still advance a small part of the story’s argument.

But that is for later. For now, let us start at the top.

In the Periodic Table in chemistry, elements are arranged in families in which all of its member elements share certain attributes. While they each have individual differences, a family resemblance between, say, Fluorine and Chlorine is as hard to miss as that in some human family lines.

In a like manner, the elements at the character level of the Dramatica Table are also organized into families of similar traits called Archetypes. Each archetypal family contains exactly eight elements and, collectively, they form an entire facet of the Story Mind and, by extension, of our own minds.

The names of some of these archetypes are familiar: Protagonist and Antagonist, for example. But that creates a problem. The term archetype has been used by so many others, from Jung to Campbell, that it carries a great deal of baggage. The words Protagonist and Antagonist carry even more. So for Dramatica to come along and try to redefine those terms is to be fighting a lot of inertia and preconceptions.

Still, the traditional archetypes are looking at the same character functions as Dramatica, just through the obscurity of storytelling. So Dramatica is not so much redefining the archetypes as it is clarifying them. With that caveat in mind, let us proceed.

Each archetype exists to portray one of the major facets of our minds in a story. In a sense, each presents a different kind of argument, just as we work out a problem in our own thinking from several directions. Perhaps the two archetypes that most easily illustrate this point are Reason and Emotion.

The Reason archetype represents our intellect and the Emotion archetype, our passion. Certainly Reason and Emotion are two of the largest contributing factors in any decision we make in life. So it stands to reason (and feels about right) that they must be present in any story for its argument to be complete.

Turning now to the best known archetypes, Protagonist and Antagonist, we find that they are heavily masked by the storytelling concepts of Hero and Villain. While a Protagonist can be a Hero, that role is just one set of clothes it might wear. In fact, your Protagonist might as easily be a Villain. (And, in a like manner, an Antagonist might be Villain or Hero, for as we shall later see, both Hero and Villain are not archetypes but Stereotypes, which are over-used combinations of structural and storytelling elements working together.)

When you pare the Protagonist and Antagonist down to their structural bare bones, Protagonist represents our initiative and Antagonist, our reticence. In simpler terms, the Protagonist stands in for that part of ourselves that gets us up out of our chairs to get things done; to accomplish something. The Antagonist, in contrast, is the avatar of our desire to maintain the status quo, or more colloquially, to let sleeping dogs lie.

This fits in well with our common understanding of a Protagonist as the character leading the effort to achieve the goal and the Antagonist as the one who will do anything to stop him. (Note that while it stands for reticence, the Antagonist is not lazy or inactive, but rather exemplifies that counter-force within our own minds that acts in opposition to change: i.e. “If it works, don’t fix it.”)

We’ve just covered a lot of new ground, so let’s pause for a moment to take stock: We have learned that any entity in a story that exhibits a personality is a player. And any player that advances the story’s argument is also a character. Characters are made of elements, which are the smallest and purest fragments of the Story Mind.

Groups of elements share certain family traits. When a whole family of elements is represented by a single character, it is called an Archetype. Each archetype represents one of the major families of thought that go on in our own minds as we seek to resolve life’s problems.  So far, we’ve identified four archetypes: Protagonist (which represents our initiative), Antagonist (our reticence), Reason (our intellect), and Emotion (our passion).

Copyright Melanie Anne Phillips

Players vs. Characters

What is a character? Like most dramatic concepts, it depends on who you ask. Some say characters are just ordinary people in extraordinary situations. Others say characters represent personality types. And then there are those who see characters as archetypes personifying human ideals and exemplifying quintessential human qualities.

As varied as these descriptions are, they all share one thing in common: They are looking at characters through the veil of storytelling. As before, when we strip that away, we begin to see the true structural nature of characters: past their personalities and into their underlying psychologies.

But before we delve into the structure of characters, let us take a moment consider their personalities, as that is what makes them intriguing, involving, charismatic and memorable.

In a story, anything can have a personality: a person, an animal, a tree, the sea, a star, even a virus. This stands to reason because in our every day lives we imbue inanimate objects with human qualities when we name our boats, call the wind Mariah, or refer to the Fatherland, Mother Russia, or Lady Liberty. In Dramatica, we call any entity that exhibits a personality a player.

Some players are just part of the background as with extras in the movies. Others are tools of convenience an author uses to drop information or solve a logistic conundrum in the plot. And still others are nothing more than window dressing – simple elements of entertainment that are purely storytelling devices.

But a player can also perform another dramatic task: it can function as part of the story argument. When it does, the player has become a character. To be a character, then, the player must (through its attitudes and/or actions) illustrate one of the ways the story’s central problem might be solved. And so, by this definition, not every personage populating a story is a character. Simply put: while all characters are players, not all players are characters.

As we shall fully explore later, the Main Character and Influence characters are special cases for these two players represent the best and worst of all the approaches that might be tried. (Which is which depends on the message the author wants to send – again, much more on this later.)

Now we shed a little more light on a statement from the beginning of the first chapter:

The elements of the story, therefore, must do double-duty. Characters, for example, must depict fully developed people in the storytelling so that the readers or audience might identify with them and thereby become personally involved in the entertainment and, perhaps, internalize the message.

Structurally, however, each character idealizes a different facet of the Story Mind’s conflicting motivations, made tangible, incarnate, so that we (the readers or audience) might directly observe the mechanisms of our own minds, see them from the outside looking in, and thereby gain a better understanding of how to solve similar problems in our minds and in own lives.

And so we see two distinct kinds of functions in each player when it also acts as a character: the fully developed aspect that makes it a real person and the small fragment of the overall story mind’s psychology that makes it part of the story’s argument.

Ultimately, as the story unfolds, all of these fragments will come together through the interactions of the characters like pieces of a puzzle to create the overall message of the story.

Problem, Symptom, and Critical Flaw

A writer recently sent these questions.  First, their letter, then my response:

Kris:

I’ve been following Dramatica for almost a year now and when you think you’ve got everything sorted out, something comes along to make you question what you thought you knew!  In Dramatica some of the traits you have for the Main Character are :

  • Critical Flaw
  • Problem
  • Symptom

The reason I’m lost is how does this relate to other theories talking about a main character just having a need and a want (aside from their external goal)? I get that the ‘need’ is Dramatica’s ‘solution’ but what is the ‘want”s (their superficial want right at the beginning of the story) equivalent in Dramatica’s terms? They talk about the ‘want’ as being something main characters usually overcome in realisation that they have a much deeper inner need which is fueling this ‘want’. I was thinking that Critical Flaw maybe this ‘want’ because it hinders their progress but main character’s don’t overcome their Critical Flaw do they? Otherwise you’d have a character who could overcome their external problem, internal problem AND critical flaw – that seems like too much of a stretch.

I guess what i’m asking is if you could help enlighten me on what a main character’s (external/superficia/what-they-think-will-solve-the-problem) ‘want’ is in Dramatica terms? Is it the Symptom? (If that’s the case then – e.g. in the Social Network, the main character’s ‘Symptom’ is to get into one of the elite Harvard clubs when you could argue his ‘Solution’ is to get back with his ex-girlfriend which he doesn’t seem to realize truly until the end of the film)

Any help would be greatly appreciated,
Kris

My response: 

Hi, Kris.
The Main Character isn’t driven by a single source but by the combination of several different story dynamics.
 
For example, the Problem represents the source motivation for the character.  The word “problem” is misleading, as it really is the drive they have, which is only a problem if it is misplaced or inappropriate.
 
The “critical flaw” on the on other hand, is a thematic item – the counterpoint to the “unique ability”.  Dramatically (and psychologically), the unique ability is the quality that makes the Main Character uniquely able to determine whether the effort to achieve the goal will end in success or failure.  It does not mean the MC must even be directly involved in the quest – simply that they hold the key to success or failure in that venture through their action or inaction.  Critical flaw is the MC quality that either undermines their ability to employ their unique ability or that undoes their unique ability accomplishments after the fact.
 
As an example, we all know MCs about whom we say, “If they would only XXXXX, then they could solve the problem.  “XXXXX” is what their unique ability would have them do, but their critical flaw is what holds them back from doing it.  Or, another MC about whom we say, “Great.  Problem solved.  Now if only they won’t XXXXX this time.”  In this case, the critical flaw comes in to wipe out the gains made through using their unique ability.
 
As for the “symptom” you mention, there is really a quad of items that primarily drive the MC – the Problem, Solution, Focus, and Direction.  They are the equivalents of a Disease, Cure, Symptom, and Treatment for the symptom.  And so, an MC will not see his or her real drive (or problem) because they are Focused on the symptom.  In response, they pursue the Treatment for that symptom by moving in a particular Direction.  In the end, they will either treat the symptom until that relieves the situation enough for the problem to cure itself, or they will realize the problem is just getting worse, see it for what it is, and address it directly with the cure.  That is, of course, if they ultimately are to succeed.  If they continue treating the symptom when a cure is needed, they will fail, just as if they keep searching for a cure when there really is none, and should have simply kept treating the symptom until the problem can resolve itself.
 
Hope this helps.
 
Melanie
Storymind