by Jeff Kitchen
Now let’s look at the opposite side of this proposed dilemma, which is that it would be unacceptable to run. How would John Anderton be divided? What would be powerful enough to counterbalance this burning imperative to escape? Would it be loyalty to Precrime? Would it be his belief in the infallibility of the Precogs—that they must be right and thus he is, in fact, going to kill this Leo Crow? Certainly Anderton must have a nagging doubt, in spite of his powerful belief that Danny is framing him. He’s a “priest” and his “religion” or “god” has pointed its finger of doom back at him. Is it unacceptable to stick around, but equally unacceptable to run? Is he damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t? But does or doesn’t what? That’s still the puzzle at this point.
Put yourself in John Anderton’s shoes. Do you feel frozen, like Robby the Robot in Forbidden Planet? As Anderton, you should feel this paralysis, this short-circuiting, this pressure from two sides. But what exactly is it that freezes you up? You can’t allow yourself to be destroyed by Precrime so you must run, yet you feel equally compelled to protect Precrime. Is this a “kill or be killed” dilemma? It’s clearly unacceptable to be killed by Precrime, but is it equally unacceptable to kill Precrime? Although you feel a strong allegiance to Precrime, is it equal to your need to escape certain death? This is the main question—if we’re barking up the right tree, that is. The dilemma here is not as clear as in Training Day. Some dilemmas take much more digging and ferreting out, and this is part of the skill of working with this tool on a wide variety of plots and potential plots.
The clue comes when Anderton questions Precrime’s inventor, Iris Hineman (Lois Smith), who tells him there’s no escaping the prediction that he’ll commit murder. “The Precogs are never wrong,” she says, and you can see the defeat in Anderton’s face. He’s dealing with destiny, with fate. His oracles, the Precogs, have decreed that he will commit murder. While part of him believes something has tampered with the system, he must still believe that what the Precogs saw will, in fact, come true: He, of all people, is “destined” to kill someone he’s never met.
But Iris stops him in his tracks when she says that “occasionally they do disagree.” Sometimes a Precog will dissent from the other two and generate a minority report—a report that is instantly destroyed to preserve the perception of Precrime’s infallibility. Anderton realizes that he may be innocent, and that he may have locked up innocent people.
Now I feel like I’m beginning to get a handle on the dilemma in this film. Is it that he can’t stick around and yet he can’t leave? The more strongly Anderton is drawn back into Precrime as he runs away from it, the more this dilemma is reinforced. He abducts Agatha (Samantha Morton), the female Precog, who might have his minority report (if it even exists) in her memory—which would give him a way out. Digging deeper, Anderton’s dilemma appears to be that it’s unacceptable for him to stick around because he will be punished for a future murder, but it’s equally unacceptable for him to leave because he has an opportunity to prove his innocence.
In the DVD commentary, Spielberg says, “Is there a flaw in the system or in him? That’s what drives Anderton.” This takes the dilemma further in an interesting direction; it indicates that the mystery is just too juicy to walk away from. Anderton believes strongly in his own innocence, but he also believes absolutely in the system. He has to find out which is broken. His addiction to neuroin (a futuristic drug) and his agony over his missing son and broken marriage expose some self-doubt, but he still cannot believe he will kill this Leo Crow. If he runs away and disappears, then not knowing will drive him crazy. He is utterly compelled to participate, and this strengthens the second half of his dilemma.
Adding layers, dimensions, and complexities to a dilemma makes it richer, deeper, and more riveting. In the end we arrive at the following understanding of this dilemma: It is unacceptable for John Anderton to allow himself to be captured and convicted of a future murder, but it is equally unacceptable for him to disappear before he clears himself. Added to this is the mystery of it all: He must get to the bottom of whether he or the system is flawed.
The Use of Dilemma in The Godfather
In The Godfather (1972), Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) is caught in a substantial dilemma: He’s being drawn into the family business even though he knows it will ruin him. His dilemma is that it’s unacceptable to sacrifice his happy and peaceful civilian life by getting involved in the family criminal activities, but it’s equally unacceptable to allow the family to be destroyed by his noninvolvement, since it has become increasingly apparent that he’s the only one capable of running things properly.
Although Michael has tried to steer well clear of the family business, he gets drawn in by the assassination attempt on his father, Don Vito (Marlon Brando). His brother Sonny (James Caan) is clearly not a good don, and his older brother Fredo (John Cazale) would be much worse. If Michael doesn’t step in, the family will fall, but if he does it will cost him his freedom, his happiness, and his soul. He’s damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t.
The Use of Dilemma in Tootsie
In Tootsie (1982), Michael Dorsey (Dustin Hoffman), a notoriously difficult actor whom no one will hire, dresses up as a woman and gets cast on a popular soap opera, creating a major dilemma. It’s unacceptable to quit being Dorothy Michaels because he’s finally got work, a fat paycheck, respect as an actor, and a growing relationship with his costar, Julie (Jessica Lange). It’s equally unacceptable to continue being Dorothy because the ruse is proving to be a disaster on many levels. A lecherous actor, John Van Horn (George Gaynes), is French-kissing him and wants more; his friendship that unexpectedly became a romantic relationship with his friend and acting student, Sandy (Teri Garr), is falling apart; and he can only pursue Julie so far because he’s dressed as a woman. Even Julie’s father, Les (Charles Durning), is trying to get a piece of Dorothy. Michael can’t let go and he can’t hang on. Becoming Dorothy is simultaneously the best thing that ever happened to him and the worst. It’s creating him and destroying him at the same time, and this dilemma is genuinely funny.
The Use of Dilemma in Blade Runner
In Blade Runner (1982), Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford) is caught in a dilemma over the fate of the replicants (humanoid slave robots). He is told that they are slaughtering people and it is his job to destroy them, but he has also seen how their inventor, Dr. Tyrell (Joe Turkel), treats Rachael (Sean Young). “Rachael is an experiment, nothing more,” Tyrell says—she is entirely disposable. But Deckard is moved by Rachael’s emotional discovery that she is actually a replicant and not human. His perceptiveness makes him a good detective, and he begins to discover that the replicants are very human, that they have a legitimate grievance, and that killing them is murder.
This is clearer in the original version (not the director’s cut) with the voice-over in which Deckard ruminates about why replicants have emotions. He also begins to question his own emotions—blade runners are expected to be detached hunting and killing machines. As he falls in love with Rachael he opens up emotionally, and in the process his fascination with and feelings for the replicants grow. And yet the replicants are still out there killing people, so his internal debate—his dilemma—wavers back and forth. The dilemma is that it’s unacceptable to allow the murderous replicants to stay alive, but it’s equally unacceptable to kill them because of his feelings for the one who saved his life, and his perception that “retiring” these human-like beings is murder.
BECOMING A STUDENT OF HUMAN DILEMMA
In order to gain expertise in wielding dilemma as a dramatist, you must become a student of human dilemma. Look at those around you who are caught in their own particular dilemmas. Look at specific dilemmas in history and in the news. Dilemma makes headlines because moral dilemmas are newsworthy. Typing dilemma at Google (www.google.com) or another search engine will unearth thousands of headlines and stories. One such headline, “Ethical Dilemma Over Stem Cell Donors,” discusses where the eggs for s
tem cell research in California will come from. Critics of collecting the eggs fear long-term health consequences from the fertility drugs used to promote excess egg development, and contend that paying poor women for their eggs essentially encourages them to put their health at risk. And yet the eggs are needed for groundbreaking research. . . . Hence the dilemma.
In an excellent Hollywood Reporter article about the television show Law & Order, staffer Roz Weinman says, “You can embrace a gigantic array of social, moral, legal, and ethical dilemmas inside this concept. My background in sociology helps in telling stories that raise those kinds of issues. It’s a terrific platform for floating unique dilemmas and different points of view.” This is clearly someone who understands human dilemma and brings that level of experience to her writing. You can be sure that the writing staff on that show has turned over thousands of dilemmas in their quest for compelling Dramatic Action. That’s the kind of work that gets you the gold.
Dilemmas can be found anywhere there is conflict, anywhere people have conflicting needs, ambitions, emotions, imperatives, desires, necessities, or absolutes. So-called “sticky subjects” such as politics, race, class, gender, marriage, children, justice, war, ecology, future planning, the stock market, Pentagon spending, welfare, abortion, taxes, big business, and health insurance are fraught with dilemma. How do people get caught up in these kinds of situations? To use just one example, consider the issue of national security versus privacy. There are serious concerns on both sides: No one wants their country to be vulnerable to attack, nor do people want privacy and personal freedoms stripped away to achieve that end. This dilemma is about the possibility that the cure could be worse than the disease.
Study Dilemma in Your Own Life. Dilemmas are not just something that happens to actors in films. In your own life you are surrounded by hundreds of dilemmas, large and small. They don’t have to be earthshaking for them to be real. Your skill as a dramatist will be enhanced considerably if you are able to recognize dilemmas in your own life and understand how prevalent they are. Look at tough choices, both big and small, that have stopped you in your tracks. Are you trapped in a boring job that keeps you from pursuing your art? Do you need to borrow money from a friend, but are hesitant to risk ruining your long-term relationship? Are you staying in a bad marriage because you’re afraid of the unknown? What are the most painful dilemmas you’ve ever faced? Look at areas of meaning and intensity such as loyalty, money, security, betrayal, friendship, politics, career, love, and children. Try to articulate both sides of the dilemma.
It can be easy to avoid dealing with dilemmas in your own life. You may need to call someone for business but know that she’s difficult to deal with. Your inner debate goes back and forth: “I want the work, but what should be a two-minute conversation will likely go on for twenty minutes without getting to the point. I need the business, but she’ll just drive me crazy.” At some point you just opt out of making a decision, thinking, “Oh never mind, I’ll think about this tomorrow.” Notice the tendency to want to put off even this miniature dilemma, to want to escape because there’s no answer in either direction. It’s like two magnets pushing away from each other.
Now isolate one of your own dilemmas and observe yourself as you deal with it. State it as: It’s unacceptable for me to _________ but it’s equally unacceptable for me to _________. Study how this dilemma impacts your world. Write about its ramifications, how it paralyzes you, how it makes you feel, the inner debate that rages about it, the sense of frustration, the rage at being trapped in such an impossible choice. Then take it further. Think about how much worse it could be. What’s the most excruciating form of this dilemma you could possibly imagine? Go off the deep end with it. Find ways to complicate it, add layers to it, dimensionalize it, compound it. Compare it to dilemmas around the world that we can scarcely imagine—a third-world family forced to sell a child into slavery to keep the rest of them alive for a few more months, or people whose farm will be burned down if they don’t join a revolution that may get them killed.
Recognize Dilemmas When They Occur. When you see someone caught between two choices, be ready to recognize and describe it in the dramatist’s terms: “Wow, you’re caught in a classic dilemma.” He or she probably never looked at it that way before. While you may not know how to solve the problem, learn to perceive dilemma where another person wouldn’t. Compare your budding skill to those special infrared glasses that enable bank robbers to see the red laser beams protecting a bank vault. Recognizing dilemmas when they occur is a crucial skill in screenwriting. If you can’t find the dilemma in your script, developing one can add weight and import to your movie. But if it is there and you can’t see it, then you may be trying to create one while it’s already sitting right in front of you, unrecognized.
Connect with the Average Person in the Audience. It’s important for the average person in the audience to connect with the dilemma of your protagonist. In other words, are the viewers able to see themselves in it? Does it have significance in their own worlds and their own lives? Hollywood often misses the mark with the average person by assuming that he or she is consumed with the superficial, when actually most people are compelled by something much deeper and more human. Perhaps they are losing sleep because a friend committed suicide or simply because their kids are drifting away. If viewers see a protagonist caught up in something that hits close to home, then they will wonder if this character can find a way out of the dilemma torturing them in their own lives.
The deeper you go, the more universal you get. A movie with a good, strong dilemma about a salmon fisherman in Alaska could impact, for instance, a banker in Tokyo who might say, “Hey, I’m caught in the same dilemma.” Or a brickmaker in Argentina might look at the screen and say, “Wow, that’s my life up there.” Neither individual may know anything about Alaskan fishing, but at a deeper level, this fisherman’s dilemma may be about honor and betrayal and duty and survival—all familiar concepts that everyone can grasp.
One question to ask when developing a script is, “Can the guy across the street, who I don’t know, relate to the dilemma in this story?” He’s your audience after all, and remember, it’s all about the audience. Let’s say you’re writing about a king who must choose between giving up his throne and putting his family in danger. How can you be sure the person across the street relates to that? First ask yourself, “How can I relate to this king’s dilemma?” You’re not a king, but you may know about moving away from family to pursue a career—so yes, kingdom versus family, you can relate to that. And if the king did it this way, perhaps you could relate to it even more, and if he did that you would really feel connected to this character. Start by studying yourself, and you will indirectly be studying the guy across the street. You will be consciously tuning the dilemma of your protagonist to your audience.
Understand the True Meaning of Dilemma. The word dilemma is often misused and therefore misunderstood. The word has devolved through extensive misuse and is entering popular lexicon so that it is almost becoming correct to say, “I had a dilemma today: I lost my keys.” But this is not a dilemma, it’s just a situation or a problem. The true definition—“A situation with a choice to be made in which neither alternative is acceptable. Two equally unacceptable alternatives, two equally painful choices”—not only clarifies understanding of Aristotle’s observations on drama, but increases the power of a dramatic plot. The more you use it properly, and the more you see dilemma in action all around you, the more you’ll be able to fully wield it as a dramatist.
USING DILEMMA AS A WORKING TOOL
The first thing to do is to see if there already is a dilemma inherent in your script idea. Is there a situation in which your character is damned if she does and damned if she doesn’t? Is your protagonist caught between two choices that trap her, squeeze her, paralyze her? The more you understand dilemma, the more you will recognize its presence. Look for something big and central, not peripheral or minor. Look for a
dilemma of magnitude that can carry a whole film, as an engine drives a car. While you can certainly find other motors in a car, such as the ones that work the windshield wipers or the electric windows, they don’t power the vehicle.
Make a list of the choices your main character faces. Work up a simple two-column chart, putting yourself in the position of the protagonist and facing your dilemma. Become this character and say, “It’s unacceptable for me to _________ and it’s equally unacceptable for me to _________” Then assign each unacceptable alternative as a heading to one column and list the active elements on both sides of the dilemma. This allows you to polarize the two sides of the dilemma and to run with each one, exploring its shades of meaning and so the page explodes with all the ramifications of the dilemma. The more angles from which you approach your central character’s dilemma, the more clearly and completely you’ll understand it. This two-sided chart is a great way to explore the extremes, too, because you can keep stretching the possibilities as you fiddle with the list, twisting the dilemma, trying things on, and breaking out in various directions.
Don’t attach too much importance to the statements; just let your mind roam. Remember, no one will ever see this chart. You’re just scribbling notes to yourself, so don’t worry if you get repetitive or if it sounds stupid or unbelievable. Don’t edit yourself to death. Have fun. Let it flow. Trust your instincts. Deliberately stretch the dynamics of your plot, of your characters, and of your whole approach as a screenwriter. Challenge your own creativity and your own storytelling habits. Try to break new ground and to see things from a fresh point of view. (For an example of this in-depth analysis, see the two-column chart for Looking Deeper into Dilemma in Training Day .)