...could those rules be wrong?
My whole question, and it is a sincere one:
If a popular, much-beloved, and commercially successful film is judged wanting according to a set of screenwriting "rules," is it not reasonable to assume that perhaps those rules are questionable, not that the film is questionable for failing to conform to them?
I assume that various screenwriting rules exist because they're supposed to make films better. But so many of the rules that I've come across seem to be flagrantly broken by films that have been been popular and commercially successful -- not to mention films that I personally love -- that I am beginning to sincerely question the merit of those rules.
After all, where do screenwriting rules gain their legitimacy? On what basis do they have authority?
They don't come from a divinity. No fiery finger wrote them on a tablet.
Therefore, they can only derive legitimacy if they are borne out by being extrapolated from successful films.
"This always works" -- therefore it's a rule. "This always fails" -- therefore it's a no-no. That makes sense.
Thus, I could understand applying rules to failed films in order to see where those films might have gone wrong. They broke the rules and suffered as a result.
But if we're talking about a film that millions have loved, that was successful when it was released, and that continues to be popular . . .
. . . are we really supposed to think it's "flawed" because it doesn't conform to screenwriting rules?
Maybe it's not the film that has flaws. Maybe it's the rules that have flaws.
If a film is successful and has a hero who, at times, is passive, maybe the rule that "The hero must always be active" is an illegitimate rule. Maybe it's, at best, a guideline -- sometimes a plus, sometimes not -- and if a film works fine with moments of passivity on the hero's part, then so be it. Good film, bad rule.
If a film is successful and the hero doesn't learn that he needs something different than what he wants, then maybe the rule that "The hero must begin by wanting something, only to learn that he actually needs something else" is an illegitimate rule. Maybe that too is just one possible way of telling a story, but certainly doesn't need to guide every story.
Or this: Is every moment in a story only justified if it "pushes the story along or augments the theme"? Really? According to what divine order? A movie is not an essay. A movie is entertainment. If a movie indulges in something purely for aesthetic reasons -- from an eye-candy moment when an attractive actor or actress partially disrobes, to a wonderful musical number that isn't necessary to the plot but gives the audience great enjoyment and increases the pleasure that they derive from the film -- then the rule that says that such an aesthetic interlude is wrong would seem, to me, to be an illegitimate rule.
And the idea that a film is in any way flawed because it doesn't follow an arbitrary three-act structure if it's a popular and commercially successful film seems ludicrous.
In a nutshell, my thought is this:
Here's a famous film that is commercially successful, much beloved, and continues to be enjoyed by present-day audiences.
Here's a list of all the ways it supposedly falls short, according to a set of screenwriting rules.
That doesn't make me think any less of the film.
But it sure makes me think less of those rules.
Because we're not trying to make movies to satisfy rules. We're trying to make movies to satisfy audiences.
My whole question, and it is a sincere one:
If a popular, much-beloved, and commercially successful film is judged wanting according to a set of screenwriting "rules," is it not reasonable to assume that perhaps those rules are questionable, not that the film is questionable for failing to conform to them?
I assume that various screenwriting rules exist because they're supposed to make films better. But so many of the rules that I've come across seem to be flagrantly broken by films that have been been popular and commercially successful -- not to mention films that I personally love -- that I am beginning to sincerely question the merit of those rules.
After all, where do screenwriting rules gain their legitimacy? On what basis do they have authority?
They don't come from a divinity. No fiery finger wrote them on a tablet.
Therefore, they can only derive legitimacy if they are borne out by being extrapolated from successful films.
"This always works" -- therefore it's a rule. "This always fails" -- therefore it's a no-no. That makes sense.
Thus, I could understand applying rules to failed films in order to see where those films might have gone wrong. They broke the rules and suffered as a result.
But if we're talking about a film that millions have loved, that was successful when it was released, and that continues to be popular . . .
. . . are we really supposed to think it's "flawed" because it doesn't conform to screenwriting rules?
Maybe it's not the film that has flaws. Maybe it's the rules that have flaws.
If a film is successful and has a hero who, at times, is passive, maybe the rule that "The hero must always be active" is an illegitimate rule. Maybe it's, at best, a guideline -- sometimes a plus, sometimes not -- and if a film works fine with moments of passivity on the hero's part, then so be it. Good film, bad rule.
If a film is successful and the hero doesn't learn that he needs something different than what he wants, then maybe the rule that "The hero must begin by wanting something, only to learn that he actually needs something else" is an illegitimate rule. Maybe that too is just one possible way of telling a story, but certainly doesn't need to guide every story.
Or this: Is every moment in a story only justified if it "pushes the story along or augments the theme"? Really? According to what divine order? A movie is not an essay. A movie is entertainment. If a movie indulges in something purely for aesthetic reasons -- from an eye-candy moment when an attractive actor or actress partially disrobes, to a wonderful musical number that isn't necessary to the plot but gives the audience great enjoyment and increases the pleasure that they derive from the film -- then the rule that says that such an aesthetic interlude is wrong would seem, to me, to be an illegitimate rule.
And the idea that a film is in any way flawed because it doesn't follow an arbitrary three-act structure if it's a popular and commercially successful film seems ludicrous.
In a nutshell, my thought is this:
Here's a famous film that is commercially successful, much beloved, and continues to be enjoyed by present-day audiences.
Here's a list of all the ways it supposedly falls short, according to a set of screenwriting rules.
That doesn't make me think any less of the film.
But it sure makes me think less of those rules.
Because we're not trying to make movies to satisfy rules. We're trying to make movies to satisfy audiences.
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