Crafting the Character Arc

by Jennie Jarvis

  Emotional Versus Goal Climax

  Most readers/viewers begin their love of stories and storytelling in a very passive fashion; as they read the text or watch the story on a screen or stage, they sit back and let it affect them. Instead of being more actively engaged in the story (analyzing it, dissecting it, breaking it down to study it’s pieces), these early readers/viewers make their determination about the quality of a story based on how it affects them emotionally. Their most developed responses to a text will be something along the lines of “I loved it” or “I hated it.”

  These passive readers/viewers have come to understand the Climax as something very different from how the term is used in relationship to the Major Dramatic Curve. They understand a Climax as the big moment of emotional catharsis at the end of the narrative. This can be the grand moment where the guy sweeps in with a romantic gesture to win back the girl, or it could be when the evil monster finally meets his demise at the hands of the once innocent female protagonist. It’s where Libby Day escapes the home of the women trying to kill her. It’s when Harry Potter defeats Quirell/Voldemort. It’s when boy gets girl or good conquers evil. For passive narrative consumers, this moment is the place they remember as the “end” of the movie.

  This idea of an “Emotional Climax” is much different than the kind of Climax writers need to think about when writing their narratives. More active consumers of storytelling (which should include all writers who use the Major Dramatic Curve as part of their craft) understand the Climax to be the exact moment where the protagonist either wins or loses the goal. In some instances, the Emotional Climax and the MDC Climax can be the same moment, but usually this isn’t the case. The Emotional Climax can happen before or after the Major Dramatic Curve Climax, depending on the story. The important thing to remember is that the Climax hasn’t happened until the protagonist no longer needs to do anything to win the goal. It is 100% clear whether they have won or lost, and the story can end.

  Let’s take a look at how an Emotional Climax and a Major Dramatic Curve Climax operate differently in the film The Fifth Element. In this story, our protagonist is Korben Dallas, a former member of the Federated Army’s Special Forces and current taxi driver. When we meet him in his Ordinary World, he is a down-on-his-luck cab driver. His inciting incident is the introduction of “Leeloo,” a beautiful young woman who is much more than she seems. While the rest of the plot involves an attempt to save Mankind from an impending evil force, everything Korben does services his goal of trying to get the girl. The entire plot line of saving the world is secondary to his desire to win Leeloo’s heart. When he tells her he loves her and a great beam of light shoots from her chest and destroys the Great Evil, this is the moment most passive viewers would consider the Climax. It’s exciting, and the world is saved. But this isn’t the end of Korben’s goal. Yes, he was able to overcome his biggest internal flaw and admit he loves another person, but he hasn’t won her just yet. Saving the world is the Emotional Climax, not the Major Dramatic Curve Climax. It’s not until we see him in the recovery chamber, making love to Leeloo, before we know for a fact he won his goal. This is his Climax (pun intended). He got the girl, and now the film can end.

  This example brings up a much broader topic of consideration. In most films, the A-plot of the protagonist trying to get his goal is rarely the first thing audiences remember when reflecting on a film. Usually, it’s the much more emotional B-plot that sticks with them. Think of Romantic Comedies. This is a genre well-known for being “chick” stories because they usually revolve around two people falling in love. But have you ever noticed that the romance is actually the subplot and not the main plot? In The Proposal, Margaret’s goal is to stay in the country. You’ve Got Mail’s A-plot is a businesswoman trying to save her small business from a corporate chain bookstore. The 40-Year Old Virgin is about a man befriending his co-workers and learning to accept himself. Jerry Maguire is an agent who has to save his career. None of these stories feature the romance as the A-plot (the protagonist’s main goal in the story). In fact, the romance is usually an obstacle to the protagonist winning his or her goal. Margaret’s growing feelings for Andrew make it hard for her to marry him to prevent deportation. You’ve Got Mail’s romantic leads are the owners of the conflicting bookstores. Andy’s low self-esteem about his virginity lies in direct contrast to his new girlfriend’s experienced expectations. The fact that Jerry Maguire’s love interest is also his assistant makes for several bad choices in the name of his business. The romance is the obstacle, not the goal. But all of these narratives are usually remembered for the romantic elements.

  Sometimes, it’s because of this emotional memory that people think the Emotional Climax is actually the Major Dramatic Curve climax. If I asked ten people to identify the Climax of the wonderfully written romantic comedy Romancing the Stone, I would say nine of those people would pick the scene in which Jack appears outside Joan’s NYC apartment with his newly purchased boat and his crocodile skin boots. This has to be the Climax right? I mean, the film is called Romancing the Stone. The Climax has to be when the romance solidifies. Even though it’s the last scene of the film, and the film doesn’t “feel” over until that scene, it’s not the Climax in terms of the Major Dramatic Curve.

  What is Joan’s goal in this film? Does she want to find treasure and fall in love? That may be a need (emotional motivator) that drives some of her actions, but it isn’t her primary goal. Remember we meet her in her Ordinary World as a romance writer. She lives in a tiny, New York City apartment with her cat, and it’s very clear the worlds she creates for her romance novels are much more exciting than her real life. Her inciting incident comes when she arrives home to a trashed apartment, a terrified cat and a chilling phone call in which she is told her sister has been kidnapped and will be murdered if she doesn’t bring a package she received in the mail to Colombia. Since the inciting incident is the external event that launches the protagonist after her goal, we can ask ourselves at this moment, what is her goal? She wants to save her sister. Everything she does for the rest of the film is because she wants to save her sister’s life. Even when she agrees to find the hidden treasure with Jack, it’s only because he tells her it will give her more leverage when trying to get her sister.

  This means that Joan’s A-plot is her pursuit to save her sister’s life. Everything involving the romance with Jack is a subplot when you view this through the Major Dramatic Curve. Does it mean the relationship is less important? No, but it’s not the main story, and that’s really important for writers to remember when crafting their character’s arc.

  Now back to the question at hand: What is the Major Dramatic Curve Climax of Romancing the Stone? If her goal is to save her sister, then her Climax is when she wins her goal and saves her sister. That’s when the story is over for Joan. Yes, we want to know if she and Jack will ever be reunited again, but that’s the Falling action, not the Climax.

  Whenever I work with beginning writers, this confusion over the Emotional Climax versus the Major Dramatic Curve Climax tends to be a big issue. Usually, one of the most helpful tips I give my new writers is to think of the Emotional Climax as the resolution of the B-plot. If the romance between Jack and Joan is the B-plot, then the Emotional Climax is seeing them together. In The Fifth Element, since the B-plot is saving the world, it makes sense the Emotional Climax is when Leeloo defeats the Great Evil. It makes the A-plot feel much more cold and uninteresting, but it’s the protagonist’s goal driving the story forward. If it wasn’t for the protagonist making the decision to pursue whatever it is they want, then the rest of the story (those more emotionally engaging and interesting bits) wouldn’t have happened. The key is to not forget about your A-plot climax.

  Crafting Your Climax

  Write out two paragraphs: one for your emotional climax and one for your Major Dramatic Curve (A-plot) climax. As you write, consider the following:

  1. What is the A-plot of your narrative? In other w
ords, what is the protagonist’s main goal? Is your Major Dramatic Curve Climax the exact moment when your protagonist wins or loses that goal?

  2. What is your B-plot? In other words, what is the underlying, emotional need your protagonist tries to fulfill through the story? Do they succeed or fail at the Emotional Climax? If not, why not?

  3. Does your Climax answer your Major Dramatic Question with a clear “yes” or “no”? For example, the Major Dramatic Question of the Wizard of Oz is “Will Dorothy return home?” The Climax of the film is when Dorothy wakes up in Oz surrounded by her family. Therefore, the Major Dramatic Question is answered with a clear “yes.” What was the Major Dramatic Question you created for your narrative way back in Chapter Two? Can your Climax answer it with a yes or no? If not, why not?

  4. Was the protagonist able to reach his or her goal because of the skills and knowledge acquired as a result of going through the journey of the narrative? Or, conversely, did your protagonist fail to reach his or her goal because of a lesson or skill the character failed to learn? If the protagonist wins too easily or loses because there was never a way they could win to begin with, the reader/viewer will feel cheated so make sure the ending feels like the character earned their win/loss. Is your Climax earned?

  Chapter 10

  The Rest is Silence

  Once the protagonist has either won or lost the main goal of the A-plot, the story is basically over. After all, we are opening the book, turning on the TV, playing the game or watching the play because we want to see their journey towards their Climax. Why should we bother to stick around to see what happens after the story is basically over?

  In many narratives, we don’t. In The Hunger Games, Katniss wants to protect her sister. She wins her goal when she returns to District Twelve, an event that happens in the last chapter of the book. Yes, her internal dialogue gives us a sense that things aren’t quite resolved, but for now, she’s won her goal. The film adaptation does the same thing. Katniss arriving back home to her sister is the second to last shot of the film. We see one shot of President Snow looking menacing and biting his thumb, but other than that, the film is over.

  Other narratives aren’t able to wrap up so easily after the goal has been won. Sometimes, there are questions asked before the Climax that still need to be answered. In Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Harry escapes Voldemort and his faithful servant, Barty Crouch Jr., but both Harry and the reader need to understand how Harry escaped. What happened when Harry and Voldemort’s wands connected? Why did Wormtail take some of Harry’s blood as part of Voldemort’s resurrection? What happened to Alastor Moody? Will Barty Crouch Jr. still be a threat even though he has been captured? How will the Wizarding community, including the Minister of Magic react to the news of Voldemort’s return? All of these questions need to be answered or at least hinted at in the last chapter of the book or else the reader will feel unsatisfied with their reading experience.

  Using Falling Action

  When a writer needs this extra time to wrap up any loose ends, the Major Dramatic Curve tells us it will be done in the period known as the Falling Action. This brief period of time between the Climax and the final moment of the story should be quite short. Remember, once the Climax has occurred, the story is over. We need to wrap it up and get out or the reader/viewer will lose patience with the story.

  A great example of this can be seen in the final film version of The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. When I first saw this film in theaters, as soon as Frodo destroyed the Ring and the Tower of Barad-dûr (Sauron’s Tower) fell, audience members began to get up out of their seats and head for the door. For them, the film was over, so it was time to run to the bathroom and get to their cars before the rush of the crowds leaving the theater. But there was still another 45 minutes of film left to go! Frodo and Sam needed to be saved by the Eagles and returned to Rivendell for care. Aragorn needed to accept his place as king of the humans and be reunited with his beloved Arwen. The Hobbits still needed to return to the Shire where Sam marries Rosie Cotton and Frodo writes his book There and Back Again. Not to mention the fact that Frodo still needed to give up on a life in the Shire and journey into the West with the Elves and Bilbo. There was a lot more movie after the Ring was destroyed.

  The reason why the film felt like it “ended multiple times” was because of the multitude of Major Dramatic Curves operating within that film series. Each film had it’s own Curve, but there were also smaller, mini-Curves for Frodo, Aragorn and Sam. When the Ring was destroyed, this ended Sam’s primary goal (protecting Frodo) which began at the end of Fellowship of the Ring. When Aragorn became King, it ended Aragorn’s goal (protecting Mankind), which began in The Two Towers. Then, when Frodo admitted defeat and said the Shire hadn’t been saved for him, it ended his goal (protecting the Shire). Frodo’s goal begins the film series and ends the film series, but the conclusion of those smaller goals along the way made for a “never-ending” film viewing experience. While the writers of the screenplay, Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens, understood what they were doing by closing the multiple Curves, the experience for many film watchers was a bit frustrating because they didn’t know when the story would end.

  To avoid this kind of “never-ending” feeling in our own work, it is important to keep the Falling Action to a minimum. In a perfect world, the Falling Action should be as short as possible – one chapter or less for a novel, three pages or less for a screenplay or stage play, one five minute cinematic or less for a game, etc. Answer any lingering questions and then end the story.

  Keep in mind, however, that lingering questions can always be answered before the Climax of the film if the writer is crafty about it. In The Goonies, all the kids are reunited with their families. Steph and Mouth accept each other as friends. Chunk tells Sloth he will live with his family. The Fratellis are arrested, and Mikey throws away his inhaler. All of these are small events wrapping up unanswered questions. Mikey wins his goal of saving his neighborhood when the jewels are discovered in his marble bag – an event that takes place after all of the above mentioned falling action. His father rips up the contract, and the only thing left is for them to see the pirate ship sailing out into the ocean. By wrapping up the loose ends before the Climax, screenwriter Chris Columbus was able to end on the film as close to the Climax as possible, resulting in a tight and satisfying ending.

  When it comes to Falling Action, a great rule of thumb to remember is this: When the goal is won, the story is done.

  The New Place of Rest

  Regardless of whether you have very little falling action or an entire chapter of it, there is one final stop on the protagonist’s Curve, and that’s his New Place of Rest. Also known as the Resolution, the New Place of Rest is where we get to see how much the character has changed (or not changed) as a result of the journey they have taken over the course of the story.

  In many cases, the New Place of Rest is a mirror image of the first Resting Period. The hopelessly romantic, self-conscious hermit is now a worldly and confident woman in love. An orphan yearning for a real family has become a father and husband escorting his children on a traditional voyage to their new school. The under-appreciated and often ignored younger brother is now a leader looked up to by a large collection of his peers, including his big brother. An ostracized video game villain has proven his worth as another hero in his world. A victim of a serial killer has broken away from the label and taken charge of her own life and fate. Who these characters are at the end of their story is a direct result of leaving behind their Ordinary World to pursue a goal. During their adventure, they passed a Point of No Return (Crisis) that altered them forever.

  It’s important to include this Place of Rest for the same reason we want to focus on an active goal: readers and viewers of the stories we tell have signed on to the journey with our characters in order to vicariously travel on the adventure with our protagonist. Someone who feels weak or under-appreciated in their ow
n lives may love super hero comics because it gives them the feeling of being powerful and useful. Someone unlucky in love might read a romance novel because they want to know what it feels like to be the object of someone’s affection. Someone bored by the humdrum of their own life might watch a horror film to add excitement to their day. In order for them to really feel the impact of this journey, they need to know how the protagonist has changed as a result.

  That’s not to say that these changes need to be overly obvious. Katniss Everdeen starts off The Hunger Games as a strong female who serves as both mother and father to her younger sister. She hunts secretly in the woods and is able to trade on the black market because she is, in effect, invisible. At the end of both the book and the movie, we know she can never go back to being invisible again. Her days of operating in secrecy are over, and we are left questioning how this will affect the sister she loves and cares for. We are left knowing that she can’t “forget” what happened as she hopes. She has seen people die. She has killed people. And now her attempt to save both herself and her fellow District member has backfired. She is on the Capitol’s radar, and it might result in the death of everyone she loves. This new place of rest is subtle and mostly implied, especially in the film adaptation. But the change is evident.