HOW DID THREE ACT STRUCTURE (Beginning, Middle, End) BEGIN?
(NOTE: At this point, I’m not talking about the screenwriting gurus’ structural models. This is discussed in Part 2.)
When a Columbia University student by the name of Jennine Lanouette was studying screenwriting, she wondered where did the three act structure come from, so she researched playwriting manuals.
She discovered that the people who credited Aristotle’s POETICS, the first playwriting manual on record, misinterpreted his observational analysis of beginning, middle and end as representing three acts in a three act structure. She said Aristotle was the first to introduce the idea that a dramatic work must have a structure, but, she says, he didn’t specify that this structure should be organized into three acts, though he was certainly heading in that direction with how he catalogued the prevailing practice of prologue, parados, episode, stasimon and exodos.
She said: “Aristotle did not define or delineate the structural function of beginning, middle and end, and how they work together to form an aesthetic whole. He simply described the isolated characteristics as he observed them. It was the work of the intervening dramatists and theorists that came along who brought us a much greater understanding of how the component parts of drama connect to push the story forward to a satisfying resolution.”
She mentions these dramatists and theorists as:
Horace with his five acts, Scribe, Freytag, Ibsen, Wilde, Shaw.
In 1908, playwright William Thompson Price referred to three natural divisions of exposition, development and denouement.
In 1912, drama critic William Archer said in his book “Play-making” that organizing a play into three acts might actually make more sense than five.
In 1936, John Howard Lawson (one of the founders of the Writer’s Guild) described three cycles of action underlying a well-structured drama.
In 1939, University of Michigan professor Kenneth Thorpe Rowe (Robert McKee’s teacher) said: “by no rule, but in general practice, three acts has come more and more to be the standard.”
An excerpt from William Archer’s 1912 published book “Play-making”:
“It is a grave error to suppose that the act is a mere division of convenience, imposed by the limited power of attention of the human mind, or by the need of the human body for occasional refreshment. A play with a well-marked, well-balanced act-structure is a higher artistic organism than a play with no act-structure. ... It was doubtless the necessity for marking this rhythm that Aristotle had in mind when he said that a dramatic action must have a beginning, a middle and an end. Taken in its simplicity, this principle would indicate the three-act division as the ideal scheme for a play.”
An excerpt from Kenneth Rowe’s 1939 published book “Write That Play”:
“Three movements are clearly more basic to the fundamental structure of a dramatic action than Horace’s five. There is an attack, a crisis, and a resolution. ... There is a natural symmetry and balance with adequate flexibility inherent in the three-act form, with the first act introductory and springing the attack, the second act developing the action to the crisis, and the third act for the resolution.”
There’s a camp of writers who are very anti-three act structure.
The anti-camp believes the three act structure is arbitrary divisions of the main action of the story. They believe a more appropriate topic for its teaching should be called: “Training Wheels School of Drama.” They say, it’s only a confidence builder for beginners to help them start writing, but they say, unfortunately, thousands of people trying to write professionally are still riding around on their training wheels.
They say, the three act structure is an antiquated playwriting tool where its purpose was only to drop the curtain to change scenery and/or costumes and allow the audience to go to the restrooms. They say, we don’t need to do this in movies. Movies are one continuous act-less event.
They say, if an industry person wants to know something like where the first act breaks at, then pick a plausible page number, or event. Its arbitrary, so he’ll believe it and move on.
The anti-camp believes that the three act structure stifles creativity and originality. That it’s simplistic, restrictive and overrated. They say, write however you feel without the restriction of three act structure and its principles.
Since I write with the three act structure in mind, naturally, I disagree with their opinions. In fact, a lot of people disagree with their opinions since the majority of the mainstream Hollywood movies possesses the traditional three act structure.
The anti-camp says, that’s because Hollywood has shoved it down the audience’s throats.
I believe if the art is faulty, don’t blame the tool, blame the artist.
The three act structure’s principles has been proven to work in engaging and entertaining an audience. All you have to do is look at these films’ box office and awards, though there are bombs that used the three act structure, but was that the fault of the tool or the artist?
Yes, unlike with a play, a feature movie doesn’t have a curtain come down to indicate the end of an act, but nevertheless, the three act structure is still there, helping to turn the story in interesting ways and move the story forward.
The three act structure is about balance, rhythm, shaping and pacing. It maximizes plot and emotional change in the story. It engages readers and moviegoers. It’s focusing on function and ensures cohesion. It’s organizing (“arrange into a structured whole”).
The anti-camp says, “arbitrary divisions of a screenplay do nothing to pace a story. Story structure is what gives the narrative its proper pace.
Story structure is exactly what I’m doing, but in the form of the three act structure (beginning, middle, end), using beats, scenes, sequences and acts, where characters make choices, moving from beginning to end. Telling a story this way doesn’t restrict my creativity. There’s an openness where I can still create.
No one is obligated to craft their stories with using the traditional three act structure form in mind? Just don’t try to sell me on the belief how using this tool will result in my story being formulaic, non-creative and unoriginal, because I’m not buying.
Like the fabulous pop group the MONKEES once said, “I’m a Believer.”
There’s a difference between form and formula:
Form is a story structure of narrative that shapes and holds your story. A vessel for you to pour your creative choices into. Your creative choices, the content of the vessel, will change, but the vessel’s “form” holding those creative choices doesn’t change.
For example, a shirt is a functional form for a human to wear, but its design/look is the creative choices made by the designer. If the shirt isn’t original and interesting, don’t blame the form, blame the designer.
Formula is contrived. It’s like a predetermined recipe to follow for everyone to bake the exact same tasty screenplay, which is what the anti-camp believe is what the gurus’ structural models are, which I discuss in Part 2.
A writer is free to choose whatever creative form, or process that he’s comfortable with and what works for him when crafting his screenplay.
For example, when structuring one’s story, John August advises as an alternative to the three act structure:
“As you’re figuring out the story you want to tell, ask yourself a few questions:
1. What’s the next thing this character would realistically do?
2. What’s the most interesting thing this character could do?
3. Where do I want the story to go next?
4. Where do I want the story to end up eventually?
5. Does this scene stand up on its own merit, or is it just setting stuff up for later?
6. What are the later repercussions of this scene? How could I maximize them?”
John August concludes with: “If you answer these questions at every turn, I guarantee you’ll have a terrifically structured screenplay.”
A writer could move a story forward by writing with just scenes and sequences in mind.
A writer could move a story forward by asking, “What happens next?”
Stephen King likes to put his characters into situations and watch how they get out.
The anti-camp suggests that a writer can create his story through the eyes of the problem (cause and effect) and what has to be done to resolve it such as, JAWS is a shark problem, AMAGEDDON is an asteroid problem, JURASSIC PARK is a dinosaur problem, etc.
The anti-camp says, what need is there of these events having three acts? None. They say, all of the structure you might find in the act are already built into the problem solving action, i.e., conflict, complications, crises (turning points/direction changes), climax and resolution.
In an interview of the SOURCE CODE’s screenwriter, Ben Ripley, he said that in early drafts he attempted to write the story in the traditional three act structure, but found it to be “underwhelming.”
Ben Ripley advises: “You have to know the rules and apply the rules, and when they aren’t working, you have to look for some other tricky way to do it.”
Ben Ripley said, “apply the rules,” but by “rules” he’s going by Merriam-Webster’s dictionary definition: “a guide or principle for governing action.”
Three act structure has been around since cavemen sat around the campfire telling stories of their hunt (Beginning/Setup of the hunt, Middle/Confrontation of the hunt, End/Resolution of the hunt).
This is why humans become so engaged with three-act stories. It’s a natural way to tell a story.
Billy Wilder demonstrated this visually with:
Act 1 (beginning): you get your character up a tree.
Act 2 (middle): you throw rocks at him.
Act 3 (end): you get him down.
Even if you choose to ignore the three act structure when writing, you’ll discover once you’re satisfied that your story is working, you’ll find that you had instinctively used the three act structure form (mostly).
Even in the more untraditional, complexed structured stories such as PULP FICTION, MEMENTO, SOURCE CODE, etc., you’ll find the three acts of beginning, middle and end alive in there.
Jean Luc Godard (French director and writer of “Breathless”) said: “Every movie needs to have a beginning, a middle and an end, but not necessarily in that order.
LET’S DEFINE THE TRADITIONAL THREE ACT STRUCTURE
The three act structure, three elements of a narrative arc, is used as a tool by screenwriters to help them craft their story by dividing it into three dramatic parts/units, consisting of vital elements and scenes/sequences, accomplishing a specific dramatic purpose, where each act will have a dramatic dynamic.
Scene breaks are due to location and/or time changes. Act breaks are for the overall dramatic structure of the material.
Act 1 - BEGINNING: exposition, memorable image, establishing the world, setting, mood, tone, genre, theme, style, voice, sense of pacing, revealing the concept, introduction of the protagonist, main characters, establishing everyday life, character relationships’ dynamics, the conflict, event that starts the story (Inciting Incident) that raises the Major Dramatic Question that hooks the audience until they get the answer at the climax, i.e., Will the sheriff kill the shark?, the event that ends Act 1, changing the action in a new direction and moves the story forward into Act 2.
Act 2 - MIDDLE: raised stakes, obstacles, evolving subplots, complications, suspense, motivations, character development and revelations, opposition from the antagonist, reversals, maybe a ticking clock, etc.
Act 3 - END: racing (or not) to the climax (final confrontation) and denouement (resolution).
Of the three acts, Act 1 is the most important.
Yes, all of the acts are important, but if the establishment of the concept, protagonist, world, tone, etc., doesn’t hook the reader, then why would he read on into Acts 2 and 3?
(NOTE: At this point, I’m not talking about the screenwriting gurus’ structural models. This is discussed in Part 2.)
When a Columbia University student by the name of Jennine Lanouette was studying screenwriting, she wondered where did the three act structure come from, so she researched playwriting manuals.
She discovered that the people who credited Aristotle’s POETICS, the first playwriting manual on record, misinterpreted his observational analysis of beginning, middle and end as representing three acts in a three act structure. She said Aristotle was the first to introduce the idea that a dramatic work must have a structure, but, she says, he didn’t specify that this structure should be organized into three acts, though he was certainly heading in that direction with how he catalogued the prevailing practice of prologue, parados, episode, stasimon and exodos.
She said: “Aristotle did not define or delineate the structural function of beginning, middle and end, and how they work together to form an aesthetic whole. He simply described the isolated characteristics as he observed them. It was the work of the intervening dramatists and theorists that came along who brought us a much greater understanding of how the component parts of drama connect to push the story forward to a satisfying resolution.”
She mentions these dramatists and theorists as:
Horace with his five acts, Scribe, Freytag, Ibsen, Wilde, Shaw.
In 1908, playwright William Thompson Price referred to three natural divisions of exposition, development and denouement.
In 1912, drama critic William Archer said in his book “Play-making” that organizing a play into three acts might actually make more sense than five.
In 1936, John Howard Lawson (one of the founders of the Writer’s Guild) described three cycles of action underlying a well-structured drama.
In 1939, University of Michigan professor Kenneth Thorpe Rowe (Robert McKee’s teacher) said: “by no rule, but in general practice, three acts has come more and more to be the standard.”
An excerpt from William Archer’s 1912 published book “Play-making”:
“It is a grave error to suppose that the act is a mere division of convenience, imposed by the limited power of attention of the human mind, or by the need of the human body for occasional refreshment. A play with a well-marked, well-balanced act-structure is a higher artistic organism than a play with no act-structure. ... It was doubtless the necessity for marking this rhythm that Aristotle had in mind when he said that a dramatic action must have a beginning, a middle and an end. Taken in its simplicity, this principle would indicate the three-act division as the ideal scheme for a play.”
An excerpt from Kenneth Rowe’s 1939 published book “Write That Play”:
“Three movements are clearly more basic to the fundamental structure of a dramatic action than Horace’s five. There is an attack, a crisis, and a resolution. ... There is a natural symmetry and balance with adequate flexibility inherent in the three-act form, with the first act introductory and springing the attack, the second act developing the action to the crisis, and the third act for the resolution.”
There’s a camp of writers who are very anti-three act structure.
The anti-camp believes the three act structure is arbitrary divisions of the main action of the story. They believe a more appropriate topic for its teaching should be called: “Training Wheels School of Drama.” They say, it’s only a confidence builder for beginners to help them start writing, but they say, unfortunately, thousands of people trying to write professionally are still riding around on their training wheels.
They say, the three act structure is an antiquated playwriting tool where its purpose was only to drop the curtain to change scenery and/or costumes and allow the audience to go to the restrooms. They say, we don’t need to do this in movies. Movies are one continuous act-less event.
They say, if an industry person wants to know something like where the first act breaks at, then pick a plausible page number, or event. Its arbitrary, so he’ll believe it and move on.
The anti-camp believes that the three act structure stifles creativity and originality. That it’s simplistic, restrictive and overrated. They say, write however you feel without the restriction of three act structure and its principles.
Since I write with the three act structure in mind, naturally, I disagree with their opinions. In fact, a lot of people disagree with their opinions since the majority of the mainstream Hollywood movies possesses the traditional three act structure.
The anti-camp says, that’s because Hollywood has shoved it down the audience’s throats.
I believe if the art is faulty, don’t blame the tool, blame the artist.
The three act structure’s principles has been proven to work in engaging and entertaining an audience. All you have to do is look at these films’ box office and awards, though there are bombs that used the three act structure, but was that the fault of the tool or the artist?
Yes, unlike with a play, a feature movie doesn’t have a curtain come down to indicate the end of an act, but nevertheless, the three act structure is still there, helping to turn the story in interesting ways and move the story forward.
The three act structure is about balance, rhythm, shaping and pacing. It maximizes plot and emotional change in the story. It engages readers and moviegoers. It’s focusing on function and ensures cohesion. It’s organizing (“arrange into a structured whole”).
The anti-camp says, “arbitrary divisions of a screenplay do nothing to pace a story. Story structure is what gives the narrative its proper pace.
Story structure is exactly what I’m doing, but in the form of the three act structure (beginning, middle, end), using beats, scenes, sequences and acts, where characters make choices, moving from beginning to end. Telling a story this way doesn’t restrict my creativity. There’s an openness where I can still create.
No one is obligated to craft their stories with using the traditional three act structure form in mind? Just don’t try to sell me on the belief how using this tool will result in my story being formulaic, non-creative and unoriginal, because I’m not buying.
Like the fabulous pop group the MONKEES once said, “I’m a Believer.”
There’s a difference between form and formula:
Form is a story structure of narrative that shapes and holds your story. A vessel for you to pour your creative choices into. Your creative choices, the content of the vessel, will change, but the vessel’s “form” holding those creative choices doesn’t change.
For example, a shirt is a functional form for a human to wear, but its design/look is the creative choices made by the designer. If the shirt isn’t original and interesting, don’t blame the form, blame the designer.
Formula is contrived. It’s like a predetermined recipe to follow for everyone to bake the exact same tasty screenplay, which is what the anti-camp believe is what the gurus’ structural models are, which I discuss in Part 2.
A writer is free to choose whatever creative form, or process that he’s comfortable with and what works for him when crafting his screenplay.
For example, when structuring one’s story, John August advises as an alternative to the three act structure:
“As you’re figuring out the story you want to tell, ask yourself a few questions:
1. What’s the next thing this character would realistically do?
2. What’s the most interesting thing this character could do?
3. Where do I want the story to go next?
4. Where do I want the story to end up eventually?
5. Does this scene stand up on its own merit, or is it just setting stuff up for later?
6. What are the later repercussions of this scene? How could I maximize them?”
John August concludes with: “If you answer these questions at every turn, I guarantee you’ll have a terrifically structured screenplay.”
A writer could move a story forward by writing with just scenes and sequences in mind.
A writer could move a story forward by asking, “What happens next?”
Stephen King likes to put his characters into situations and watch how they get out.
The anti-camp suggests that a writer can create his story through the eyes of the problem (cause and effect) and what has to be done to resolve it such as, JAWS is a shark problem, AMAGEDDON is an asteroid problem, JURASSIC PARK is a dinosaur problem, etc.
The anti-camp says, what need is there of these events having three acts? None. They say, all of the structure you might find in the act are already built into the problem solving action, i.e., conflict, complications, crises (turning points/direction changes), climax and resolution.
In an interview of the SOURCE CODE’s screenwriter, Ben Ripley, he said that in early drafts he attempted to write the story in the traditional three act structure, but found it to be “underwhelming.”
Ben Ripley advises: “You have to know the rules and apply the rules, and when they aren’t working, you have to look for some other tricky way to do it.”
Ben Ripley said, “apply the rules,” but by “rules” he’s going by Merriam-Webster’s dictionary definition: “a guide or principle for governing action.”
Three act structure has been around since cavemen sat around the campfire telling stories of their hunt (Beginning/Setup of the hunt, Middle/Confrontation of the hunt, End/Resolution of the hunt).
This is why humans become so engaged with three-act stories. It’s a natural way to tell a story.
Billy Wilder demonstrated this visually with:
Act 1 (beginning): you get your character up a tree.
Act 2 (middle): you throw rocks at him.
Act 3 (end): you get him down.
Even if you choose to ignore the three act structure when writing, you’ll discover once you’re satisfied that your story is working, you’ll find that you had instinctively used the three act structure form (mostly).
Even in the more untraditional, complexed structured stories such as PULP FICTION, MEMENTO, SOURCE CODE, etc., you’ll find the three acts of beginning, middle and end alive in there.
Jean Luc Godard (French director and writer of “Breathless”) said: “Every movie needs to have a beginning, a middle and an end, but not necessarily in that order.
LET’S DEFINE THE TRADITIONAL THREE ACT STRUCTURE
The three act structure, three elements of a narrative arc, is used as a tool by screenwriters to help them craft their story by dividing it into three dramatic parts/units, consisting of vital elements and scenes/sequences, accomplishing a specific dramatic purpose, where each act will have a dramatic dynamic.
Scene breaks are due to location and/or time changes. Act breaks are for the overall dramatic structure of the material.
Act 1 - BEGINNING: exposition, memorable image, establishing the world, setting, mood, tone, genre, theme, style, voice, sense of pacing, revealing the concept, introduction of the protagonist, main characters, establishing everyday life, character relationships’ dynamics, the conflict, event that starts the story (Inciting Incident) that raises the Major Dramatic Question that hooks the audience until they get the answer at the climax, i.e., Will the sheriff kill the shark?, the event that ends Act 1, changing the action in a new direction and moves the story forward into Act 2.
Act 2 - MIDDLE: raised stakes, obstacles, evolving subplots, complications, suspense, motivations, character development and revelations, opposition from the antagonist, reversals, maybe a ticking clock, etc.
Act 3 - END: racing (or not) to the climax (final confrontation) and denouement (resolution).
Of the three acts, Act 1 is the most important.
Yes, all of the acts are important, but if the establishment of the concept, protagonist, world, tone, etc., doesn’t hook the reader, then why would he read on into Acts 2 and 3?
Comment