While sitting back in my chair after having just completed a 700+ word musing over the misconceptions of originality in creative writing as part of my last blog post, my mind began to wander, as it is wont to do thanks to an almost comical lack of mental focus. My eye soon followed, and eventually my gaze landed on a modestly sized book perched on the edge of my shelf…
The Thirty-Six Dramatic Situations by Mike Figgis was my personal gateway into exploring the accepted wisdom that there are limited number of plot points that you can incorporate into your writing. In this book Figgis updates this old theory originally hypothesised by French playwright George Polti in the mid- 19th Century for a society post the invention of film. After coming across this, fresh(er) faced and just out of uni, it seemed like a worthwhile tool to pick up. To say that information presented to me in a comprehensive fashion through the lens of cinema was helpful might be an understatement akin to calling the Atlantic “A little bit damp”.
The picture you see above is the whiteboard in my study or office or writing space, honestly I feel like I sound dreadfully pompous however I refer to it. Name a film, any film committed to celluloid or digital filing throughout human history contains some combination of these 36 situations… and since it springboards rather nicely off of the topic of my last post, I figured why not lightly summarise the points one by one over the course of a few separate blog posts, with a few examples that you may have heard of. All credit to Mr Figgis, and I highly recommend picking up a copy of this work, as there’s no way I’ll be able to go into nearly as much detail as he does here on my personal blog. So without further gilding this particular lily, I present the first of these dramatic situations:
1. SUPPLICATION
In simple terms, supplication is defined as the act of asking for something in a humble way without any trace of conceit. Supplication is essentially begging. Perhaps the protagonist has crashed down to her lowest moment and needs to swallow her pride and beg for the help that she once refused.
An example that immediately comes to my mind arrives in the first act of the 1996 film Dragonheart. Though not the main protagonist, the mother of a dying prince comes to the cave of a Dragon (voiced by Sean Connery. Nothing to do with the point I’m making, I just think that that’s just fantastic) and begs the mythical beast to share his life force with her son to save him from the clutches of death. This act of supplication acts as the inciting incident of the story, with all subsequent plot points rippling out as consequences of this one pivotal moment.
Supplication can be used to further a character’s redemptive arc, like in the example of our hypothetical protagonist learning humility in the opening paragraph, or used as an instance of crushing humiliation. Think of a King having to beg for the lives of his people to a rival ruler after suffering a stunning defeat on the field of battle.
2. DELIVERANCE
In this particular narrative instance, a character finds themselves being rescued or set free from an unpleasant fate by the unexpected arrival of a protector or some other unforeseen circumstance.
I think the quintessential example of this in cinema is the one that Figgis uses in his book: the 1946 Christmas classic It’s a Wonderful Life in which George Bailey, played by James Stewart is saved from suicide by the sudden appearance of his guardian angel who goes on to show him that his life is worth living after all.
Due to the sophistication of modern audiences and readers, the inherent pitfall of using this device in your story is leaving people with the feeling of being cheated by waiting too late in the story to implement it. How many times have you come across the ancient cliche of soap operas, where a character about to be sentenced to life in prison is cleared by the bursting in of another character, introducing some previously evidence that can miraculously clear their name? It’s the story telling equivalent of empty calories. People are more tuned into the writer’s tricks than they’ve ever been before. To counteract this, it is best to recommend the use of this in the early act as an inciting incident, or being sure to adequately foreshadow the deliverance of your character well in advance if you are planning on saving it for the climax.
3. REVENGE FOLLOWING A CRIME
Always an exciting one. Just like it says on the idiomatic tin, this situation involves a character that seeks retribution against those that have wronged them and caused them great suffering. There are so many examples of this one. Hamlet seeks revenge for the killing of his father, the Bride from Kill Bill sets out to… well, kill Bill. Bill and all those that assisted him in the butchery that happened at her wedding rehearsal. I find it exceedingly difficult to spout out any particular insights about this device, since it’s so pervasive throughout fiction from the Greek myths up to now. Whether it be vengeance on behalf of the self, a loved one, or an entire race of people, the motivation at the crux of this situation is totally consistent.
… And so ends part 1 of my 12 part blog series (assuming my maths is right, it’s fairly basic division but that means very little at 11:30 at night, 7 years removed from a Maths GCSE) about the 36 dramatic situations as told by Mike Figgis. Hey, looks like I have some structure for the next 11 posts… Though I do hope that will be fragmented by some other content here and there. We’ll see how it goes.
Again, if you wish for a more in depth explanation of any of these points, I can’t recommend the book highly enough.
The Only APC 