“The main character is the one who changes.”
I’ve heard this many times over the years, early in my education as a writer and then from others who bring me their scripts and concepts to read, who have taken this to heart and tried to live by it.
It makes sense, if stories are “transformation machines” as Save the Cat says.
The whole point of a story is that character journey and arc, right? How they end up different in the end? How they confronted and addressed their flaw in the process?
Maybe. Sometimes. But it’s a bit more complicated than that…
One thing I think we can agree on is that the main character’s external life situation usually changes. It’s very different in the end from where they started. (Unless it’s one of those stories where they’re back where they started but with a changed perspective, as in Rite of Passage or Out of the Bottle scripts.)
I would also agree that typically the main character is pressured to consider changing in terms of some internal approach to life they’ve had. Often having to do with self-limiting beliefs. (As opposed to starting selfish and becoming unselfish, a hard-to-pull-off arc I see many writers attempting.)
It was the “Dramatica” theory of story that first suggested to me that this doesn’t always mean that the main character actually ends up changing in the end.
What it says is that ideally they butt heads with an “influence character” and each impacts the other over the course of the story. (What other paradigms call “the B Story.”)
But in some cases, they remain “steadfast” and it’s that other character who changes. Or sometimes multiple other characters they’ve affected. As in Forrest Gump. Or other “Fool Triumphant” stories.
But Elle Woods changes, right?
At first glance, Legally Blonde is a classic story of character transformation.
Elle Woods goes from ditzy blonde Sorority sister obsessed with marriage, chasing her ex- to Law School, to… a capable lawyer in the making who doesn’t need him anymore.
She changes her inner priorities and fixes her flaw, you could say, which was low expectations, limited beliefs, and focusing on the guy. And massively changes her outer circumstances.
But there’s another way of looking at it:
Elle stays the same: plucky, confident, bold, a good person, a helper, with a lot to contribute. Others might pressure her to doubt herself, give up on her desires, or, alternatively, change fundamentally to try to fit in.
Instead she stays true to herself and continues to do the right thing. It’s just her arena and possibilities that change.
Meanwhile, she changes people around her. Multiple people.
Why does this matter?
The deeper meaning and impact of stories tend to come from these sorts of considerations. What your script is “saying” might be about the right or wrong way for a certain person to move through life.
And you might feel at the outset that it has to have a certain message as its north star, and this “fixing a flaw and changing” thing as the story’s central premise.
In my view, though, the central premise – what you’d put in a logline – is usually about an external challenge, not inner growth.
And focusing too much on inner growth as the be-all and end-all can get in the way of coming up with a powerful, entertaining, believable external challenge.
Also not every genre features significant character change, on the part of the main character, or otherwise. Sometimes, it’s mainly just action – as in Die Hard – and it still works.
Regardless, I think it often makes sense to let this possibility of change evolve over the course of writing a story, to not be locked into one pat answer about this from the outset. My suggestion is to focus on the external challenge first and not let this be your main focus. If you do, it can limit you and get in the way.
Instead, develop a great story about a great character that keeps them (and you) so busy with their high stakes external challenge that there’s almost no space for that change stuff, at least in a first draft.
You might be surprised, as you approach it this way, at how stronger themes and possibilities for growth emerge over time for you, rather than being the thing you started out with that dictated everything.
And it might make you end up with a stronger, more resonant, more convincing piece of writing.
Questions? Disagreements? Feel free to comment below.
A lot of classic pulp and noir stories don’t have a transformation in the character. The Nero Wolf stories are an excellent example of that. Nero Wolf resists change. He absolutely insists that everything and everyone around him change their behavior to suit his preferences. His inflexibility often creates complications but his insistence on having everything his way leads him to solving the mystery by the end of the story.
A&E adapted several of the novels and short stories in 2001. It starred Timothy Hutton and the late Maury Chaykin. It was a fantastic show worth a look.
Other examples: The original stories of Conan the Cimmerian by Robert Howard, most super-heroes once you get past their origin story, Sherlock Holmes
Good point, thanks Travis.
I would say these are examples similar to DIE HARD where it’s mainly about the external challenge (solving a mystery) and not about the main character evolving.
They might not even have that second character trying to push them to evolve.
At the extreme you might have the original LAW & ORDER series where there is basically zero personal material or insight into the characters other than their cop/lawyer work.
Another great perspective Erik. Reading this reminded me of the series House. The main character has his brief moments but never really changes his blunt, often obnoxious interaction with others. Many find him cantankerous and rude from beginning to end but learn to respect his knowledge and problem-solving skills. Like him or hate him, his results are undeniable so his patients and their families swallow his advice like a foul tasting but affective medicine.
Nice analysis, thanks Les! Another TV example here inspiring me to link to a past post on how TV characters are less likely to change…
Hi Erik. Excellent read as always.
It made me think of how the same dramatic question, “Can you be a good person who does bad things?” (borrowed from Burn Notice scenarist) could lead to two very different character arcs:
1- Breaking Bad TV series as a flagship for the “hero transformation machine” theory;
2- Bosch TV show with Bosch as a typical case (from my own perspective) of a hero who stays the same with a possible logline along these lines : “An uncompromising LAPD homicide detective relentlessly pursuing justice in Los Angeles, even as his dogged investigations and moral code put him at odds with his superiors, the law, and his own troubled past.”
Exactly as you mentioned in your post about Legally Blonde but applied to Bosch instead, the hero “stays true to himself…and continues to do the right thing.” Key thing being: “it’s just his arena and possibilities that change.”
To me it’s fascinating in the context of you blog post how the same dramatic question could lead to two opposite character arcs: one with hero profound transformation and one closer to a flat arc.
Would love to have your take on that.
Thanks again for your great blog.
Ned
Thanks so much for the kind comment Ned!
Series work a bit differently and often have very little character arc because it would disrupt the series premise to have characters significantly grow and change. So the result is a certain “steadfastness” as in Bosch, typically. BREAKING BAD is an exception and goes for a negative arc over the long run of the series.