Thursday 15 October 2009

Why Die Hard is great, and Austin Powers is funny

After reading a fairly mundane script the other day, I started musing about that old saying (was it Robert McKee? Or has he just purloined it?) that good stories are about 'ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances'. That's nice. It's pithy, it's succinct, in fact it's been pared down so much that it doesn't really mean a lot.

And so it's never really helped me much, or even sauntered around in my brain. Until I read that rather tame 'thriller' script. I got to thinking about the definition of a thriller. Generally it involves someone (or a small group) isolated, either physically (i.e. Alien) or non physically (sociologically etc., i.e. Cape Fear). It usually also involves a supremely powerful and/or clever villain, whom the weak and under-equipped hero has to outsmart, out fight and otherwise generally be very tenacious. What's the best example of this I can think of? Die Hard. Yes, it's an action film, it's the action film, but as you can see from the rules just mentioned, it's most definitely an action-thriller. And what do I love about Die Hard? What makes it stand out? A watershed in the Action genre? Radically (at the time) it's hero wasn't superhuman. Until then, action heroes had been giant walls of muscle. Rambo toted a machine gun in each had. He killed people by the score without even looking, meanwhile an entire army of sharpshooters couldn't seem to hit him.

Not so with John McClane. For a start he's not all that muscular, no more so than your average construction worker. And why should he be? He's only a policeman, since when are they built like brick...outdoor lavatories? Does he know martial arts? No. Is he well equipped? No. He doesn't even have any shoes. I LOVE that. Isn't that a stroke of genius? There's no logical reason for that to be a part of the story, but if you say the words Die Hard to me, what immediately comes to mind is - Bruce Willis, hand gun, vest, no shoes. Why does it work? Because it makes him more vulnerable, even less prepared, and in the slightly embarrassing situation of finding himself in the action-film equivalent of being caught with your pants down. (Incidentally, as a kid I always wanted to see an action film where the hero has a stinking cold. What a strange child I was.)

So what was my point again? It's that, although John McClane is still not exactly realistic (He just happens to know how to use explosives and submachine guns, just because he's a cop. And of course, he carries his hand gun with him at all times, even on his pre-9/11 flight from New York to LA, even when he's stripped to his waist and making fists with his toes.), on the action hero spectrum, he's most decidedly at the 'more realistic' end. He's alone, he's tired, he's scared. That's a new one. He spends the first part of the film running away, hiding, and trying to call for help. Wouldn't you? Exactly! That's what you or I might do (if we could even find the courage to do that). He's a (relatively) ordinary person in an extraordinary situation.

Ok, a change of tack. Now let's look at Austin Powers. Why? Well it's the exact opposite; extraordinary people in ordinary situations. That would make a thriller fall flat on its face, but it's gold-dust for comedy writers. Why is Doctor Evil funny? Because when he wants some frickin' sharks with frickin' lasers attached to their heads, he's told he can't have them because they're endangered, he'll have to make do with sea bass instead. When someone suggests he should just shoot Austin Powers, he says he would rather an elaborate, slow death, leaving ample time for escape, and he won't even watch, he's just going to assume everything went to plan. And his demand for one miiiiillion dollars gets laughed out of town, what a pitiful sum of money in the REAL world.

And then there's archetypes. Shadow, trickster, guardian. Those Jungian archetypes don't work as they are unless you're Tolkien or Disney. But for the rest of us, it works like this: take your (almost)realistic hero, and force him to play those roles. McClane is sometimes a trickster (Now I have a machine gun, Ho, Ho, Ho.... and don't forget him throwing the body out of the window onto Al Powell's car. Classic tricksterism!), sometimes a wise helper (Ellis, tell them you don't know me!), but mostly the hero (er...Yippee Ki-Yay?). So I suppose what I'm getting at here is that rather than populating your story with archetypal characters, try to invent some more realistic ones, and decide - What would they do if they had to be a helper, hero etc.

So, there's my brainwave for one day. A brainwave of stuff people have already told me admittedly, but that's often how my brainwaves work.

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