How much bad am I willing to do in the cause of good?

In Lincoln, written by Tony Kushner and directed by Steven Spielberg, President Lincoln so firmly believes in the necessity of Emancipation that he is willing to authorize all manner of arm-twising, dirty deals, and political bribery to get the bill passed.  At the time, Thaddeus Stevens, played in the movie by Tommy Lee Jones, said, “”The greatest measure in the nineteenth century was passed by corruption, aided and abetted by the purest man in America.”

In Zero Dark Thirty, written by Mark Boal and directed by Katherine Bigelow, a young CIA operative called Maya, played by Jessica Chastain, is obsessed with finding and killing Osama Bin Ladin. She is involved in morally reprehensible torture in order to help track down her quarry.  She is driven and relentless, so much so that when she is successful she has no idea what to do next.

Bigelow explains in an interview, “I think what’s so interesting and so poignant for Jessica, myself, for all of us, is this idea that this woman (Maya) has spent the last ten years exclusively in the pursuit of one man and yes, at the end of the day, she triumphed, but it’s not a victory because finally, at the end of the day, you’re left with much larger questions like, where does she go from here? Where do we go from here? Now what?” Chastain adds, “I find that to end the film on that question is far more interesting than providing an answer.”

Can I find the flexibility, the forgiveness, or the mercy to make reasonable compromises?

In Lincoln, the person that has a real protagonist’s journey is Tommy Lee Jones in the role of Thaddeus Stevens. Stevens spent his political life advocating for total Negro emancipation, including the right to vote and own property. He was adamant and uncompromising. In the final, down-to-the-wire vote-taking, Stevens must turn his back on everything he has always stood for in order to assure that Lincoln’s lesser bill passes. Steven’s struggles mightily with his conscience but finally allows practicality to win.

At the time Stevens said: “Believing then, that this is the best proposition that can be made effectual, I accept it. I shall not be driven by clamor or denunciation to throw away a great good because it is not perfect. I will take all I can get in the cause of humanity and leave it to be perfected by better men in better times.”

Steven’s leap of faith was being flexible enough to allow an imperfect bill to pass because that served the greater good.

In the film, Les Miserables, written by William Nicholson and directed by Tom Hopper, prison guard Javert, played by Russell Crowe, cannot compromise his strict moral standards.  He finds it impossible to have mercy and not enforce the strict letter of the law.  What is legal is not always just.  And what is just is not always legal.  This is a great dilemma for Power of Conscience characters.  Javert is in such conflict that he would rather kill himself rather than compromise his precise and rigid sense of duty in favor of what is just and merciful.

In the animated film, Brave, written by Mark Andrews, Steve Purcell, Brenda Chapman, and Irene Mecchi, and directed by Andrews and Chapman and co-directed by Purcell, Queen Elinor is a Power of Conscience character. She is a strict and demanding taskmaster, a perfectionist, and is driven by a strong sense of tradition and royal responsibility. Over the course of the story she finds the flexibility to recognize her daughter’s uniqueness and she learns to fully appreciate Merida for who she is.

What is the higher duty?

Power of Conscience character universally wrestle with the question of what their inherent morality and sense of duty asks of them.  These  characters fear not living up to their own internal standards or sense of propriety and decency.  They are afraid of being or becoming unworthy and must continually prove their own “goodness”  or “righteousness”. These characters don’t fear failure in the eyes of the world; they fear not living up to their own (often impossibly high) moral or ethical standards.

As I said before: What is just is not always legal or proper. And what is legal or proper is not always just.  What is more important?  Is the spirit of the law or the letter of the law more important?  When is it right to be pragmatic and flexible rather than unbending and unyielding in your standards? When is being flexible and pragmatic being lax and immoral? Power of Conscience characters provide a fascinating glimpse into one set of humanity’s great dilemmas.

When it was released I pegged it as a worthy and important film, filled with fascinating historical detail– but also as ponderous and episodic. The film suffers from the same problems Spielberg had with War Horse and Amistad.

War Horse was the definition of an episodic narrative with very little character development. A brave courageous boy acquires a brave courageous horse, the boy loses horse, he is determined to find horse again, he succeeds, and brings the horse home. A goal is set and we watch it being accomplished step-by-step. Read my review of War Horse here.

In Lincoln, a bold visionary president wants to pass a bold visionary bill to emancipate the slaves in the South, he is determined to do this at all costs (and is willing to do whatever back room deals are necessary to push his agenda forward). We watch him step-by-step accomplish his goal.

Daniel Day-Lewis does give the performance of a lifetime in Lincoln. He is stunning and astonishing in the role but his performance is most of the character development that there is in the story. Lincoln is not a fully developed protagonist. He has no inner conflict. Lincoln overcomes nothing in himself to succeed.

There is plenty of external conflict in the battleground horrors of the American Civil War. There is a tremendous amount of relationship conflict– different people in the story clash with each other over every aspect of the political situation. But there is no personal inner conflict for Lincoln. He is very clear and determined about what he wants to accomplish, he shrewdly proceeds to make it happen, and he succeeds.

The person in the film that has a real protagonist’s journey is Tommy Lee Jones in the role of Thaddeus Stevens. Stevens spent his political life advocating for total Negro emancipation, including the right to vote and own property. He was adamant and uncompromising. In the final, down-to-the-wire vote-taking, Stevens must turn his back on everything he has always stood for in order to assure that Lincoln’s lesser bill passes. Steven’s struggles mightily with his conscience but finally allows practicality to win. When the bill passes Stevens takes the original copy home to his Negro wife/mistress and we see his dedication to freedom comes from a very personal place.

This problem with identifying the protagonist is reminiscent with an equal failure in Spielberg’s The Terminal.  In that film a minor character had the most emotional impact and made the biggest emotional sacrifice.  Read my review of The Terminal here.

In Amistad, Spielberg told too large a story. That film detailed the capture of a ship piloted by slaves who mutinied against their masters. The situation resulted in several trials and appeals to determine their freedom. The story was filled with fascinating historical detail but those details over complicated the story.

Amistad, like Lincoln, was populated by numerous interesting characters but didn’t have a central strong personal journey. The strongest, most emotionally intimate journey in Lincoln is Thaddeus Steven’s. Lincoln is beautifully cast and wonderful to look at but, for me, is more a history lesson than a personal story.

Let’s look at the simple issue of who is the protagonist in Tintin. The protagonist in a story is the central character whose actions set off the chain of events that pushes the story forward. So far so good.  Tintin buys a model ship that holds a long-hidden clue and sets off a chase for treasure. The protagonist must have a physical goal in the story that he or she actively pursues.  The goal for young Tintin is clear enough, solve the mystery and find the treasure. This is what TinTin wants.

What the character needs is an inner ache or yearning that the character is unaware of, denies, suppresses or ignores. It is a deeper, more abstract or intangible human longing. It is not physical or concrete. It is an emotional or spiritual urge or inner call to live up to one’s higher nature. For example: to stand up for one’s beliefs, to become a better parent, to forgive another, to act with integrity, to find one’s faith, to become more altruistic, to be a better friend, to face the truth, to love unselfishly, etc.

To embrace the need, the character must abandon the specific goal (or object of desire) and address more fundamental and far-reaching human concern. One of the most common problems with scripts that don’t work is the lack of a clear and specific want vs. a deep and powerful inner longing.

This is the case in Tintin.  There is plenty of external conflict in the chase. There is a good amount of relationship conflict in the centuries old feud between the Haddocks and Rackhams.  But there is no inner conflict for Tintin. There is nothing the boy needs to over come in himself in order to succeed.  He falters for a very brief moment late in the film but is immediately cheered up and on his way without missing a beat.

Captain Haddock goes from being an irresponsible drunk with low self esteem to someone who sobers up and rediscovers his own self-worth.  He is no longer intimidated by his illustrious ancestor and realizes he has courage too.  Tintin, like the young  protagonist in War Horse, is as plucky, courageous, determined and resourceful in the beginning of the film as he is at the end of the film.

At the climax of a film the question is, who makes the biggest sacrifice? Who pays the biggest price? Who undergoes the most powerful personal transformation. That person is the protagonist. It doesn’t matter how big a star or how well known a figure is “supposed” to be the protagonist.  It doesn’t matter how much screen time the “supposed” protagonist has.  If some other character makes a bigger personal sacrifice, is more powerfully transformed or pays a bigger emotional price, he or she is the protagonist.  If a secondary character plays this role the film will disconnect emotionally. That is the case with Tintin.

Perhaps the character worked better in a comic strip where Tintin acts more as a narrator/journalist telling someone else’s story.  But this is a movie and the requirements are different.  Mistaking which character is the protagonist is one of the most common reasons why a film doesn’t work emotionally for the audience. Spielberg should know better.

The film is beautifully shot but is low on emotional impact and, strangely, low on sacrifice.  Both the boy and the horse survive by a serious of amazing and miraculous coincidences.  A mediocre script in even the hand of  a master director pumped up by an overly emotional score still makes a mediocre movie.

How did War Horse go so wrong?

What the main character in a movie wants is a clear and simple goal.  It is something that directly benefits the protagonist that he or she can physically have or obtain. It is concrete. It is specific. It is the finite object of the character’s personal desire. In War Horse the boy’s want or goal is to find the horse and bring him home. To obtain the want, however, the character must abandon the need.  That personal conflict is the essence of good drama.

What the character needs is an inner ache or yearning that the character is unaware of, denies, suppresses or ignores. It is a deeper, more abstract or intangible human longing. It is not physical or concrete. It is an emotional or spiritual urge or inner call to live up to one’s higher nature. For example: to stand up for one’s beliefs, to become a better parent, to forgive another, to act with integrity, to find one’s faith, to become more altruistic, to be a better friend, to face the truth, to love unselfishly, etc.

To embrace the need, the character must abandon the specific goal (or object of desire) and address more fundamental and far-reaching human concern. One of the most common problems with scripts that don’t work is the lack of a clear and specific want vs. a deep and powerful inner longing.

That is the case in War Horse.  There is plenty of external conflict in the family’s poverty and the horrors of war.  There is a good amount of relationship conflict– different people in the story clash about all sorts of things. But there is no inner conflict. There is nothing the boy needs to over come in himself in order to succeed.  He is as plucky, courageous, determined and resourceful in the beginning of the film as he is at the end of the film.

It’s astonishing that in a film about war there is very little sacrifice for the good of others.  The boy is not changed by his experiences and no one else is much changed either.  The relentlessly upbeat ending is ridiculous in the face of the devastation of “The Great War” which so profoundly changed everyone and everything in Europe.

What the main character wants pulls us through the story. The need draws us deeper into or inside the character. If this bedrock conflict isn’t clear the script won’t add up to very much. Unfortunately, this is the case in War Horse.

(Universal’s) deal with AnyClip can make memorable scenes from “E.T.,” “Jaws” and more available by search and embeddable on Facebook.

Hoping to earn money from every snippet of a film, Universal has licensed rights to a vast portion of its library to AnyClip, a company that chops up films digitally and makes every moment searchable.

The deal is the largest in the short history of AnyClip, which, until the Universal deal to be announced Monday, mostly had rights only to independent films.

AnyClip’s intentions are to sign up distribution partners like IMDb.com, Fandango, Hulu and other sites that will incorporate its abilities and movie clips into their offerings. Each clip is accompanied by an opportunity to buy or rent the entire film, and AnyClip has affiliate arrangements with iTunes, Amazon.con and Netflix.

AnyClip also intends on earning revenue through advertising, and visitors to anyclip.com can grab scenes of movies to embed on their blogs, Facebook pages or what have you.

What Went Wrong?

Tom Hanks, playing Vicktor Novorski, is the film’s star and occupies most of the screen time. Unfortunately, Vicktor is not the protagonist of the film. Neither the biggest emotional journey nor the emotional climax of the film belongs to Hanks. This a fatal flaw from which the film never recovers.

Plot Recap

THE TERMINAL is a charming feel good story about a hapless Eastern European, Vicktor Novorski (Tom Hanks), trapped in an airport when his country, Krakozhia, is thrown into turmoil by a coup. His visa is no longer valid because his country no longer exists politically.

Vicktor can neither enter the US nor leave the airport premises until the situation is resolved and a new visa is issued. The character is physically stuck and static throughout the film.

There is no internal conflict between what he wants (his goal or objective) and what he needs (a larger missing element in his life). Vicktor is a passive likeable guy trapped in a cul-de-sac. His main activity is patient and persistent waiting.

No Emotional Journey

Emotionally, Vicktor goes nowhere and does nothing. Although he finds friends and discovers how to survive in the airport, he learns or realizes nothing of consequence emotionally at the end of the film that he didn’t already know at the beginning of the film. He discovers nothing new about himself along the way.

He is not transformed in any significant way by his experiences. Vicktor is the same gentle, genial, anguished but honorable person in the beginning that he is at the end. His internal journey is the emotional equivalent of watching paint dry.

The result is entirely predictable and without much suspense or surprise. We never fear he will do the wrong thing because he is consistently sweet-tempered and generous from the beginning.

Diluting a Weak Payoff

Early on we see Vicktor forego permission to leave the airport premises in order to aid a complete stranger, a man stopped temporarily in the airport with contraband Canadian prescription drugs for his father. Decent, honorable Vicktor makes the choice to sacrifice his own desires and an offer of freedom to aid a stranger in need.

Later, when faced with the same choice, to forgo his quest to save his closest airport friends, does the audience ever doubt that Vicktor will make the same sacrifice? Of course, Vicktor gives up his objective to save his airport friends from trouble. To sacrifice for one’s friends is a far easier choice than to sacrifice for someone you don’t know and will never see again.

This lowers the emotional stakes— it doesn’t raise them. Vicktor does the expected, again, but in a watered down form.

No Suspense or Surprise

A film doesn’t build interest and suspense by diminishing the emotional cost of an action. Characters should make progressively harder choices —not progressively easier ones. The film’s sequencing of events further diminishes the paltry emotional catharsis for the character.

The story resolution also lacks any suspense or obstacle. Once Vicktor is free to leave the airport he obtains his final objective with little effort. His mission is to complete his dead father’s autograph collection, inspired by the famous “Great Day in Harlem” photograph of 1950’s jazz legends.

He has the precise address where the missing musician can be located. Vicktor makes a bee-line to the club and immediately finds the musician, who complies effortlessly with the request. Vicktor gives up nothing of value to conclude his journey. He ultimately pays no personal price other than the time and patience necessary to wait out his temporary limbo. Vicktor undergoes no personal transformation and learns nothing of consequence emotionally along the way.

The Terminal and E.T.

I believe Spielberg has remade a lesser version of E.T. in THE TERMINAL His fatal mistake in the current film is to cast a star (Hanks) in the alien’s role and center the film around him.

Although E. T. is the title character in the earlier film the little creature is not that film’s protagonist. Elliot played by Henry Thomas is the protagonist in E.T. The decision to make Vicktor the protagonist in THE TERMINAL sank the film emotionally and at the box office.

Let’s look at the similarities: Both films are about aliens who are involuntarily stranded on foreign soil

➢ E.T. is left behind when his mother ship makes a hasty exit and vanishes

➢ Vicktor is stranded when his country vanishes in a swift political coup

Both aliens simply want to collect some artifact and then go home

➢ E.T. collects the “exotic” local flora

➢ Vicktor collects an “exotic” local autograph

Both aliens are sweet-tempered and gentle creatures from beginning to end. Although they don’t change personally they do change the lives of those around them

➢ E.T. has an enormous impact on Elliot, his friends and family

➢ Vicktor has an enormous impact on his airport friends and family

Both aliens are eager to return home and do, in fact, go home at the end of the film

➢ E.T.’s ship returns to collect him and he returns to his home planet

➢ Vicktor’s country returns to the political map and he returns to a new Krakozhia

Both aliens inspire another, who seems to be insignificant and powerless, to a feat requiring great daring and courage

➢ E.T. inspires Elliot, a small child, to defy the government

➢ Vicktor inspires Gupta, a lowly janitor, to defy the airport administration and the government

Both aliens initially inspire fear in their unlikely champions

➢ Gupta frets that Vicktor is a government operative or spy and worries obsessively about what will happen if the airport crew helps Vicktor

➢ A creature from outer space initially does inspire fear.

➢ Elliot enlists his brother and his friends to race to E.T.’s rescue

➢ Gupta distributes posters and rallies the other airport workers to Vicktor’s plight.

In E. T. Elliot is the protagonist. He’s the one who learns the most and has the biggest emotional journey. In THE TERMINAL the person who changes the most and has the biggest emotional journey is not Vicktor Novorski (Tom Hanks) it is Gupta Rajan (Kumar Pallana) the airport janitor.

Gupta’s Emotional Journey

To find the major emotional journey in THE TERMINAL look no further than the curmudgeonly airport cleaner. At the beginning of the film Gupta is afraid and deeply suspicious of Vicktor’s story. The janitor worries Vicktor may be a government spy, possibly working for the CIA.

At the end of the film Gupta believes so deeply in Vicktor’s cause that he tells all the airport workers Vicktor’s story and distributes photocopied posters in support of Vicktor. In the end, the elderly janitor sacrifices his own freedom and safety to aid in Vicktor’s quest.

Gupta goes from worrying, hiding and living in fear to stepping out, standing alone against monolithic bureaucracy and becoming a courageous champion. That’s a huge emotional journey.

Gupta’s Sacrifice

Over the course of the film we learn that Gupta had a little shop in his own country. He was continually pressed by government functionaries who demanded ever-increasing bribes. One day Gupta snapped and a greedy official wound up dead. Gupta fled.

He is hiding in America illegally, trying desperately to be invisible. This insignificant elderly man, who keeps his head down and toils as menial airport worker, is a very unlikely potential hero. Just as the very young Elliot, an easily ignored middle child, is an unlikely hero.

At the end of the film, however, the seemingly unimportant and lowly Gupta emerges from hiding. He discovers a tremendous well of courage within himself. Gupta brings a 747 to a halt with his broom to free Vicktor. The visual image of this little old man on the tarmac is incredibly powerful. It is even reminiscent of that striking image of the unnamed student who stood in front of a tank at Tiananmen Square in Beijing.

The old man strides fearlessly onto the airport runway. He is completely dwarfed by the massive and seemingly unstoppable plane. Gupta stands his ground without flinching, and, brandishing a mop as his only weapon, brings the advancing airliner to a standstill.

As a result the old man is led away in handcuffs. Is there any question that the film’s emotional climax belongs to Gupta?

Conclusion

THE TERMINAL is headlined by one of the most beloved actors of his generation. Many critics believe this is among the best performances of Tom Hanks’ career. He is wonderfully directed by Steven Spielberg, one of the most accomplished and popular directors of all time.

The film’s production values are superb. No expense was spared to create a visually appealing and incredibly realistic set. And yet, the film was a critical disappointment and, for all the star power involved, returned a less than stellar result at the box office.

Star power, brilliant performances, directorial flair, lavish production budgets and savvy marketing plans combined cannot substitute for a clear emotional journey on the part of the protagonist. If the protagonist’s journey isn’t clear and compelling then the audience doesn’t feel satisfied. If the audience is not satisfied, the film won’t generate blockbuster tickets sales.