There’s a personal development program I participate in, and as part of that, I was today looking at my most recent “training issue” and the structures I’m putting in place to have a breakthrough around that.
My most recent training issue is Give up drama and arrogance.
On reflection, I find this very interesting. I am a very dramatic person. It makes perfect sense. I grew up as an actor, I’m now a writer, and so for most of my life I’ve been trained in how to add drama to everything I do. It’s a strong suit; being dramatic is, in a sense, what I rely on to produce results.
The irony is that for me, as with most people, my strengths and weaknesses are very closely related, and this area is no exception. Because the way this translates into life is it’s all about me and how difficult it all is and how I’m suffering and failing and as I look at all of that, whether it’s around work or relationships or my marriage or cleaning my effing house, it’s all kind of silly and gross.
So now that I’ve distinguished it I can be responsible for it, and I can be dramatic where it serves me (in my writing or performing) and I can give up the drama where it doesn’t.
Where it starts to get even more interesting is when I started to look at the structures to put in place around giving up the drama. What everyone keeps telling me is that I’m addicted to insights, and that I need to stop “seeing things” and start doing and being in action. Which led me to the following structure for having a breakthrough: “…instead of looking for insights and talking about it, I am getting into action. Being in action in all areas of my life is an access to giving up the drama, since drama only exists in the absence of action or results.”
Let’s look at that last sentence again: Drama only exists in the absence of action or results.
I’ve long been revering McKee for his insight that story exists in the gap between expectation and result, and I think I’m on to something else here, too. Because where drama occurs in a film or a book is in those moments when there is no action or when results are not being produced.
Think about it. When are the “dramatic” moments of a film? It’s not when someone’s blowing up a car or getting chased down an alley, it’s when there’s a pause in the action; when people are talking to each other about themselves or others. The drama in The Dark Knight occurs when Bruce Wayne is sitting in the penthouse saying, “She was gonna wait for me, Alfred,” or when Alfred tells him “Some people just want to watch the world burn.” Crashing into a skyscraper in Hong Kong and then returning to the plane while it’s in mid-flight isn’t dramatic, it’s just cool.
To take it a step further, there’s a whole genre of movies called “drama.” These are the movies that come out in the fall, and are the ones that win Oscars because they’re deep and moving and meaningful, but when you look at the plot of these movies, typically speaking, not a lot happens. The Shawshank Redemption is not a high concept flick filled with people doing stuff or producing results. It’s a story about what happens to our hero between the decisions he makes. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is clearly dramatic, but when you talk about that movie, you’re not talking about the things he does. In Star Wars on the other hand, you do talk about the things they do – blowing up the Death Star or using the Force. Where’s the drama? “No, I am your father …”
Which means that if you’re looking to create drama, have the characters slow down and talk. Have them fail to produce the desired results (save Rachel Dawes’ life, kill Darth Vader, get a new trial based on Tommy’s testimony). And if you’re not looking for drama, then don’t – have them be in action and actually causing something and producing results.