how movies can make you popular

when i teach debate camps, i always begin with a session entitled 'how to think.' in this session, i ask about what makes a good movie. i usually get answers like "good plot" and "lots of action".

almost never do i hear what actually makes movies great: characters.

if you really think about it, though, no one really cares about plot when they watch movies. people like to think that they want action, but really all they want is for something terrible followed by something great to happen to someone they can relate to.

here are some elements of good fictional characters:
1. fatal flaw - all good characters must have them. maybe they smoke compulsively (eternal sunshine of the spotless mind) or are slightly/majorly OCD (Monk) or even have a drug addiction (House). the fatal flaw makes them attractive and human.

here's the funny thing about fatal flaws; even if we don't have them, we create them because we think that they make us different. we pretend {even subconsciously} to be annoyed by disorder, and we emphasize our injuries {because being that guy who hurt himself in the football game is better than just being that guy}.

i'm not sure there is anything wrong with this tendency, but it tells us more about why we like the ugly, fat girl in the movie who turns out to be nice on the inside, instead of the popular cheerleader who lacks witty banter and clever catchphrases. in the end, all of us would rather be the fat girl with the makeover than the cheerleader.

2. the loser/winner dichotomy - much like the fatal flaw, great characters must be very bad at something. it doesn't really matter what, as long as it is noticeable and incurs mockery from their peer group. the important thing is that they have a hidden talent of some sort. drawing, painting, rock climbing; again, it doesn't matter what. in the end, this character will be called upon in a highly unlikely circumstance, and will demonstrate their talent, to the awe of their peers.

there is a common cliche which says that in order to succeed, we must fail. this is what the loser/winner dichotomy comes down to. if you are good at everything, people secretly resent you. if you are terrible at everything {and have no sharp wit to make light of your shortcomings} people will avoid you. this is why the best characters balance their failings with a hidden talent.

3. past hardship - you may be noticing a trend; the things that shape good characters are really not good at all. similarly, past hardships are the keystone to a great character. hardship is the get-out-of-jail-free card for the violently inclined. Bruce Wayne's vigilante justice is understandable, even commendable, because it is birthed from righteous vengeance. the protagonist of any chick flick worth its salt has lost a mother, been teased mercilessly or abandoned at birth. we are even willing to excuse criminal behavior like money laundering (Catch Me If You Can) because of characters we have developed past-based sympathy for.

it is impossible to escape the fact that our past shapes the people that we become. for a character to be successful, their shortcomings and strengths must be grounded in something beyond themselves.

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so these are some things that make characters great. but maybe you don't believe that characters are the only element necessary for a good story {movie or otherwise}. let me prove it to you.

1. if a character does not grow, it is impossible for them to be the protagonist. hence the success of 'coming-of-age' stories where a previously unrealized character unleashes their inner potential. without a protagonist, a movie cannot succeed.

2. in a movie, we permit the suspension of reality, in order to observe character growth. almost all movies operate on a series of highly unlikely premises and events completely severed from reality. as an audience, we accept the new reality presented by the movie, not merely for its own sake, but because we realize that people are ultimately the same, regardless of setting and plot in which they find themselves.

3. we instinctively seek ourselves in movies. this is where facebook comes in handy. countless times a day, stories in my newsfeed inform me about which movie or tv show character you think you are. are you Pam from the office? are you fun loving Jim? which chick flick character are you?

these quizzes are not evaluated based on similar settings and plot structures, but target personality {character} similarities between you and characters in your favorite tv show.

4. characters are the reason we accept cliches. how many football movies have you seen, featuring an underdog team that ultimately beats out the bigger, more experienced players? why do we keep seeing them? because we accept that despite the identical and predictable plot structure, everyone loves a good underdog story.

in the end, a good movie is defined by its characters. which makes things interesting in the real world. after all, if we like characters in movies, it follows that we would like people who possess the qualities of a great character in the real world. this is why Bill Clinton was elected {and remained} president, and why people read tabloid magazines. without flaws, celebrities would be really rich people who lived in mansions. without a special talent, losers would stay losers and criminals would stay criminals.

so if you want to be popular, become the ideal character i described above; identify your weaknesses and strengths, and emphasize them. you may be unhappy and fake, but people will like you more, and probably remember you after you die.

a polite suggestion

I used to think that I loved jazz for the same reason Donald Miller named his book after it; because it doesn't resolve.

But I think that isn't true at all, or at least not entirely true. Last night I really listened to classical music {because someone I knew was playing, annnnd he was amazing. sidenote.} and I started to understand why different people relate to different styles of music.

Classical music is like an inspirational underdog movie. It's melodramatic, fits a structured pattern and engages the mind. It's the Slumdog Millionaire of music; emotional, but conclusive. The experience is cathartic and demands mental action.

Jazz is not inspirational because it makes us think about something, or even feel something. Jazz does not come from the head or even the heart. It does not demand action or logic, but the gut or the soul. Aristotle describes the constitution of the polis as a positive direction which the members of the community choose to engage in; the soul of the community. Jazz reminds me of a constitution like that. It's a suggested direction, rather than a british accent on a GPS.

Some people like melodrama. Some people like suggestions.

Then again, maybe the altitude is making me lightheaded. I probably just like jazz because it has a saxophone.

Constitution Barbeques

In history class today, we learned about abolitionists in the US before and during the civil war. Abolitionists do not sound like the kind of people with whome you would want to spend a relaxing afternoon. On the 4th of July, they would burn the Constitution and talk about how evil America was. I think they probably barbequed meat too.

America was pretty evil then, incidentally. Even those who opposed "the South", pretty much still hated black people, and many of them were not against slavery so much as they just wanted to keep the problem in the South and change the laws that let southern police come up north to take black people. The South wasn't a whole lot better, obviously. Aside from the fundamentally wicked institution of slavery, they called for a federal police force, proving that they weren't really so much in favor of states rights after all.

So the abolitionists had a point. But they weren't very popular, and I imagine them all looking a little like Ron Paul. If there were abolitionists today, I'm not sure we'd like them as much as we like Ioan Gruffudd in Amazing Grace; they would be the kind of people like Ralph Nader that everyone makes jokes about, but nobody puts signs in their yard for. Conservatives would mock them and liberals would probably ignore them. They would sound kind of like Tom Stockman in Enemy of the People, though maybe less articulate and more passionate. If there were abolitionists today, they would not be polite or politically correct.

Abolitionists were probably not nice people.

In retrospect, it is easy to side with abolitionists, because we mostly think slavery was wicked and that it is good that people like Lincoln faught wars to make it stop, and make the US into "we the people" (thank you, Nicholas Cage, for that little tidbit). It was abolitionists and not racists like Lincoln who probably did the most to actually lobby for equality in the long run, but it's hard to image ourselves in their places. Saying that black people should be equal to white people was like saying that money is wicked, and that making a profit should be outlawed. There would be lots of people who kind of sympathized with you, but ulimately liked making money and used profit to feed their families. There would be even more people who thought you were insane, and probably some that thought you were a Marxist. It may even be like declaring yourself as a Russian during the Red Scare. Lots of people would say you were un-Patriotic (given your 4th of July rituals, they may have a point), and Joe McCarthy would put you in jail.

Wearing peace signs and shopping at Urban Outfitters is cool, but being an abolitionist is not cool at all. Being an abolitionist means that you are wildly unpopular, disliked and if you walk down the street, some people might spit on you, or crucify you, or write nasty articles about you in the Collegian. Being an abolitionist means that you care more about your cause than anything else in the world; even more than you care about money or fame or your own life.

People like Jesus and Ghandi and Mother Teresa and Martin Luther King Jr are abolitionists.

I would like to be abolitionist.

However, due to the environmental ramifications, I do not suggest, or plan on, burning the Constitution.

Culture Heroes?

Everyone should read this article:
http://whoviating.blogspot.com/2008/06/heroics.html

{thank you, Matt, for sharing}

Let me add to this otherwise brilliant argument that hero worship of soldiers is completely understandable. Americans have been effectively brainwashed since the cold war to embrace this "Us vs. Them" mindset which legitimizes the black marks on our historical record. If Joe McCarthy wasn't enough, phrases like "if you can't stand behind our soldiers, stand in front of them" {sorry, David, did I steal your witty little comeback? =P} --one of the most illogical positions I have heard in my life {think about it: if you disagree with what soldiers do...do it FOR them!}--and the conservative response to the 60's/70's/80's have finished the job.

My point {and I'm sure the author of the article's point} is not to bash soldiers, but to question America's worship of death. The cultural "myths" and icons that we worship epitomize the things our culture treasures and values. What does it say about America when one is unpatriotic for resisting evil with good? Or when our greatest heroes are instruments of death? Or when concern for others has been shrouded by unapologetic national interest?

You can call me names all day, but in the end these are the kinds of questions that keep you up at night and force you to question your most precious beliefs.

Constitutionally Speaking

Today, I was sitting in the student union, reading and meticulously transcribing the Constitution onto note cards (non-kinesthetic learners, I do not expect you to understand), compliments of Dr. Birzer's infamous constitution quiz, which really wasn't that hard*, if you're curious. Anyway, there I sat, calmly focusing my energy on remembering to care about something I actually care very little about, and a group of neighboring students began casually chatting with each other. I tried to ignore them, really I did, but soon their increasing volume and my fascination with the Constitution combined to draw my interest. I wish I could relay their conversation with more detail, but it was all about guns and really, I know next to nothing about guns ("ak-47...bad?"). 30 minutes later, the gun talk started to grate on my nerves until one of the kids (and I honestly don't know what his name is, I'm not trying to be secretive) made reference to someone who I assume, though who knows why, was a friend of his. Gun Kid 2 chuckled when GK1 mentioned his friend and queried, "does he have any living relatives?" "Sure, plenty of them," responded GK1. "Damn," said GK2 (his word not mine. I'm not going to hell yet, Adam). "He is pretty well off," sighed GK1 sympathetically. "Oh, it's not his money I whant**." I sighed a little too, relieved that I would not have to walk over and punch GK2 in the face. He was pretty big. "It's his guns."

Sigh officially taken back.
I felt an interesting combination of nausea and tidal-wave-esque anger swirl through my stomache.

Even now, hours later, I can barely even articulate how wicked and disgusting and sickening this is. Oh but wait; you don't buy my gunslinging conservative stereotype? I don't blame you. When they finally moved past guns, GK2 very originally pointed out that the stimulus package was going to...do some things Adam would not approve of me saying...to America. Oh, oh! They even called Obama names. If the sickness already brewing in my stomache hadn't knocked me over, the originality definitely would have.

Then they went back to guns.

This is the part where I assure you all that I am not actually a crazy liberal, but remain a crazy libertarian. The truth is that I support gun rights and think the stimulus package is dumb. But honestly? I am sick of gun slinging rednecks (ooh, look, I can name call too!!) sitting around pretending that there is nothing more to life than firing at illegal immigrants and calling black people names. Seriously. Take a peek into the real world and maybe spend that money you were using for guns on something more...i dunno...Christian?

No. I'm not bitter at all.

The moral of the story is that Nathan woke up in time to go to lunch before I stalked over and gave those (very large, scary, capable-of-pain-causing)...people...a piece of my mind. In the end, I stomped downstairs, half wondering if I was missing their next discussion topic. Maybe griping about outsourcing, or plotting a lynching***? Evidently I am less openminded than I previously thought.

*Dr. Birzer, if by some odd chance you see this, please do not see this as encouragement for increasing the intensity of future tests, but rather as a grateful note from a student who was very glad not to fail you in such an important matter.
**this is supposed to illustrate the southern drawl. You think I am lying and making up an accent for effect? I wish.
***No, Samantha does not know when to just keep her mouth shut and not say exactly what she is thinking. Deal with it.

Metaphors We Live By

Argument is war. Strategies are employed to win arguments. Your opponent defends his position by attacking yours.

Hope is light. A glimmer at the end of a tunnel. A ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

Time is money. It can be wasted, carelessly invested or saved.

I like metaphors because they say much more than almost any other combination of words. In fact, those statements right there prove the point, but I’ll get to that later.

“It’s just a figure of speech,” you might say – and that’s where you’d be wrong. Metaphors are much more than figures of speech. They are powerful indicators of the way we think and act towards others. In their book, Metaphors We Live By, George Lakoff and Mark Johnson write that “Metaphor[s are] pervasive in everyday life, not just in language but in thought and action. They govern our everyday functioning, down to the most mundane details. Our concepts structure what we perceive, how we get around in the world, and how we relate to other people. Our conceptual system thus plays a central role in defining our everyday realities.”

Enter the grammar Nazi: A metaphor is not a simile. A simile is when I compare one thing to another: “Jack eats like a pig” or “Jill looks like a model.” To say that something is like something else, is to simultaneously admit that it is not in fact that thing.

A metaphor is similar to a simile, grammar Nazi leaves in favor of the redundancy police, in that it links two unrelated topics. But what if I said “Jack is a pig.” I have made a statement about Jack’s character, not just his eating habits. If, to me, Jack isn’t just like a pig; he is a pig, how do you think I will treat Jack? You’re right; like a pig. Better yet, let’s look at the second example I gave: “Jill looks like a model” has a meaning completely different from “Jill is a model.”

So what? How does this affect me? Why does it matter? That is what I call a question that answers itself. The key is in the question “why?” Why do you automatically link the concepts of argument and war, hope and light or time and money together? The answer is so obvious, it is often ignored. You link time and money together because you believe that time can and ought to be treated like money, just like Jill can and ought to be treated like a model.

Let’s take an easier example, something you probably experience in your day to day life. Say there is an old crooked tree at the intersection where you turn to go from your house to the grocery story. Naturally, you refer to that corner as the “crooked tree” corner. If you told your oldest son, “turn right at the crooked tree corner,” he would know exactly what you’re talking about. Assume this goes on for 5-10 years. Sadly, the old crooked tree is struck by lighting and is cut down. Even when the tree is gone, you will naturally refer to the corner as “crooked tree” corner, whether the tree itself exists or not.

Metaphors are no different. They are the natural product of habit—you come to understand time to be like money so in your mind time becomes money, not like money, but it completely takes on the role of money in your mind.

It doesn’t seem like a problem until you turn on the radio or the TV or listen to yourself talk. Then you start to get scared. Really, really fast.

Exhibit A: War metaphor
Last December, CBN, the Christian Broadcasting Network, published a story entitled Christmas Under Siege “From Georgia to Oklahoma, the biblical foundation of Christmas is under attack.” This opening statement begs the question, “under attack by whom?” the answer is obvious: the devil, or better yet, the ACLU. The article goes on to quote David Cortman, Senior Legal Counsel of the Alliance Defense Fund, “The attacks on Christmas are simply part of a larger war being waged on anything and everything Christian. The American people, common sense and the Constitution are clearly winning the battles against Christmas waged by the Left.”

Whether or not you agree with keeping Christ in Christmas, and I do, it is important to understand that this was a legitimate legal debate about the use of public property. If Nietzsche somehow came back from the dead and spent your tax dollars on placing elaborate “GOD IS DEAD” signs all over your public library, you’d be upset too.
Here is the mistake we often make when discussing the battle in churches:
We make the same error that CBS and other fanatical “warriors” often make: we mistake unbelievers for our enemies. We’ve somehow convinced ourselves that we “wrestled not with spiritual forces, but with Democrats, Muslims and Frenchmen.” When we speak of the “fight” for Christian morals in our nation, the “war” for family values and the “battle” for Christ, we are fighting, in some sense, successfully, the wrong enemy.
Dan Nejfelt of Faith In Public Life, a religious blog, writes that “The purpose of war metaphors is to cultivate a sense of fear, outrage and victimhood, and if fear, outrage and victimhood have to be cultivated with absurdly exaggerative rhetoric, those sensibilities are unwarranted. Before we pride ourselves on the fact that we have discovered a new kind of scriptural misinterpretation, we should take a quick look back into history.
The persecution of “heretics” began centuries before the birth of Christ in 385 BC. It wasn’t until 1184 AD, though, that the church began its first official inquisition, most commonly called the Medieval Inquisition. More famous is the Spanish Inquisition, which lasted from 1478 to 1838, nearly 400 years. During this period, Jewish and Muslim converts were executed if they were suspected of adhering to their former beliefs estimates of those killed in the name of religion range from 8.4 million to a startling 112.5 million.

But during the holocaust, war in the name of religion struck a little closer to home. It’s is a sickening reminder that one of Hitler’s primary goals was the elimination of homosexuals in Germany. When we speak carelessly, even in jest, of “shipping all of the gays to France and bombing them” we should immediately realize that we are aligning ourselves with one of the wickedest men that walked the earth.

We are in a battle, a war against spiritual forces, but our war metaphor, specifically that which appears in the church, must be directed at sin and not sinners. We must recall that like homosexuals and yes, even liberals, we frequently make mistakes. If we hate sin, we must learn to hate it in ourselves and in the church before we hate it in others. As Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 5:12, “I’m not responsible for what the outsiders do, but don’t we have some responsibility for those within our community of believers? God decides on the outsiders, but we need to decide when our brothers and sisters are out of line and, if necessary, clean house.” It is imposters within the church, and not sinners outside of it, that we are called to judge.

Exhibition B: Economic Metaphor

I invest in my friendships, I value my family. Your relationships enrich your character, and those who have no friends lead impoverished lives. Did you catch it? We commonly think of our relationships, our love, in economic terms. Donald Miller, in this collection of essays, Blue Like Jazz writes that, “The problem with Christian culture is we think of love as a commodity. We use it like money. If somebody is doing something for us, offering us something, be it gifts, time, popularity, or what have you, we feel they have value, we feel they are worth something to us, and, perhaps, we feel they are priceless. This was the thing that had smelled so rotten all these years. I used love like money. The church used love like money. With love, we withheld affirmation from the people who did not agree with us, but we lavishly financed the ones who did. I used love like money, but love doesn’t work like money. It is not a commodity. When we barter with it, we all lose.”

The other day I was at this graduation for my older brother, and the speaker was a politician with a very strong Cajun accent said something that made me smile, because a friend of mine said it to me months ago and it made me think. “Relationships are like ATM’s,” he said, “you have to make deposits in order to make a withdrawal.”

Put that in your pipe and chew it.

Things get a bit more complicated here:

A study completed by the Schwartz Center shows that metaphors are fundamental to individual and collective expression, [they] are also capable of creating or perpetuating stereotypes, and stigma. If we think of people purely as an economic boon, when they no longer benefit us, we will have no reason to love them unconditionally. How then shall we live? Instead of thinking of love as money, Miller suggests that we use “magnet” metaphor or “free gift” metaphor. What if you could make deposits with no hope of a withdrawal? What if you did make deposits with no hope of withdrawal.

Words are powerful weapons.