So in the Hercules video, I talked a lot about the three-act structure
that is really common in Hollywood screenplays,
and someone in the comments linked to an article by Film Crit Hulk from 2013,
wherein Hulk argues against what he calls the "myth of the three-act structure."
Now, Hulk has written some great film journalism over the years,
but on this, well, I pretty much disagree with most of his assertions,
and I think this stems from a disagreement on what an act even is, and even what purpose it serves in a narrative.
There's a misconception that an act in a screenplay pertains to where any given scene falls in the narrative.
Hulk even points this out - that most people, when asked, think it's an issue of placement rather than function.
Hulk contends that his fellow journalists, film students, writers, etc.
can't actually define an act, except for where it falls in the story,
and that the idea of three acts is actually meaningless.
Now applying a structure to a narrative is a form of theory -
and people get confused by this all the time, what we mean by theory,
so in this context it's this:
it's not a scientific theory like Theory of Evolution,
or like a colloquial theory as in, like, a hypothesis,
but analytical theory is a form of academia
that aims to frame a work, an artist, or a movement
in terms of history, meaning, interpretation, sociology, psychology, etc.
Film theory is distinct from, say, film criticism and film history,
although there is some overlap.
For instance, applying feminist film theory or psychoanalytical film theory to, say,
Hitchcock's North by Northwest
- vaaaagina -
will net you a different reading than if you were to apply auteur theory to the same...
though not completely different.
Theory is taking a guideline of thought based on a comparable precedent to an already existing body of work.
So when we talk about theory as it applies to the three act structure
I do agree that it's not terribly useful for writers to start their own work,
be it a short story, a novel, a screenplay, or a web video,
feeling the need to hit the points of a three act structure.
When you're outlining something it's best not to think about that sort of thing.
But when you come out the other side, you will probably find that you've unconsciously created a three act structure
just by the nature of the way story structure has evolved throughout the history of Western civilization.
You have probably learned how to write a three act structure simply by osmosis.
However, if you go online and look at forums where people try to find examples of movies that don't adhere to three act structure,
most of their examples will.
I see movies like No Country for Old Men,
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,
and Pulp Fiction as counterexamples.
Three act structure is there in all of these movies,
but it's hidden in storytelling that is less conventional than, say,
Independence Day,
which has its three acts so carefully outlined
that they are divided by date.
I was originally going to use Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen as a counterexample
but NOPE!
All of these act points are there,
even the twist in the third act,
but these points are so buried in plot clutter
that it feels a lot more muddied and random than it actually is.
Hulk's main contention is that dividing stories into three parts is arbitrary,
because a movie can have any number of breaks,
and therefore acts, that create propulsion.
He cites the Shakespearean five act structure as superior,
and uses 2008's Iron Man as an example,
which I find particularly odd
as Iron Man uses a very rigid three act structure.
The conventional wisdom, contends Hulk,
is that an act marks the point where a character can't go back,
and I don't think that's an accurate or helpful assessment.
But story structure is not a myth, it is theory,
and can be interpreted in a variety of different ways
depending on what framework you're using.
You can argue that any narrative has three acts, or five, or nine,
but it is useful to keep in mind that
while most feature length movies will adhere to a fairly easy-to-recognize three act structure,
not all do.
Psycho is a good, more well-known example of a Hollywood movie that doesn't use the classic three act structure.
Hulk cites Malcom X as an example,
and on that I would have to agree,
but the simple three act structure tends to be most popular
because it lends itself well to a 90 minute to 2 hour screenplay,
given the length of sequences that tend to be satisfying to a mainstream audience.
So I've provided a link to the article in question below,
and also the de-Hulkifier bookmarklet if you have a hard time reading Film Crit Hulk's all-caps mode of writing.
And again, being broken up into three acts doesn't mean acts need to adhere to any particular length.
Movies like The Lion King,
The Hunger Games,
and Spiderman all have really long first acts,
and their midpoints are generally 60 to 70% through the movie.
Act breaks aren't a question of length, but function.
For another source, Todd Vanderwerff of Vox.com wrote a more recent article
about the decay of the second act we've seen in more recent Hollywood fare,
like Independence Day: Resurgence
and...Fant-four-stic.
That article is also linked below.
I don't think it's a question of which structure is superior-
five acts versus three -
but which structure is most effective for the story it's trying to tell.
Formula can be used to great end
or to... not so great end.
So needless to say, not all narratives adhere to this structure,
but the vast majority of Hollywood films, and even smaller indie films, do.
And obviously the examples I've chosen have all pretty clear three act structures,
because this is a video about three act structures.
And also, spoilers for the following films.
So in this context, the operative word here is tension.
Individual acts and sequences have tension,
and the narrative as a whole has tension.
The beginning and end of acts marks the changes or shift in the tension.
A typical screenplay features 8 sequences.
2 in Act I... 4 in Act II... 2 in Act III.
Sequences are defined by a build and release of minor tensions,
all while contributing to the main tension.
There are main act tensions, and there are individual sequence tensions.
An example of a sequence tension would be
"Will Tony be able to build a suit that works?"
/Two... One/
That tension is relieved when he successfully tests it.
The following sequence tension is "Is Tony's new suit capable of doing what he wants it to do?"
The tension is released at the end of the sequence,
but also builds to the main tension of the bigger bad wanting to take him down.
/There must be more than this provincial life!/
A backstory establishes the status quo for the protagonist
and sets the rules of the universe.
This usually happens at the very beginning of act one,
but can be weaved throughout.
Sequence 1 usually explains the universe,
and will also usually give us some sort of flaw or desire that's leaving the protagonist feeling incomplete.
Luke wants to go to flight academy.
Eddie is an alcoholic racist who hasn't mourned the loss of his brother.
Shia LaBeouf is a s****y human being.
Your point of attack is the thing that gets the ball rolling.
This probably has nothing to do with the protagonist and instead focuses on the universe.
This creates a story element for your protagonist to react to,
and that reaction becomes the inciting incident.
And yes, I did get the point of attack and inciting incident reversed in the Hercules video, that's my bad.
It's been a long time since I've taken this class, shut up.
Point of attack will probably be outside of the protagonist's control or even knowledge,
and the inciting incident is where the conflict comes home to roost for our protagonist,
Meaning our protagonist needs to... do something.
It can also be something that will eventually lead the main character to making an important decision at the end of Act I.
That inciting incident marks the end of the first sequence of the first act.
That first sequence tension is resolved
by however the protagonist reacts to that inciting incident,
be it
finding a bag of money in the desert,
or volunteering as tribute,
/I volunteer as tribute!/
realizing the satellite signal is a countdown,
or finding out that Roger Rabbit allegedly killed a guy.
/Marvin Acme. The rabbit cacked him last night./
In a film with a more passive protagonist like Mad Max: Fury Road,
the inciting incident is where Furiosa decides to go offroading.
And yes, we all know it's Furiosa's story, but Max is the point-of-view character,
and his growth defines the structure of the story and therefore he is the protagonist.
The inciting incident will also set up the central conflict,
which is displayed through character motivation.
That central conflict can be the desire to win over the princess,
the desire to win over the princess,
or the desire to win over the...
robo...
princess?
See this one's compelling and easy to resolve,
which is why romance is such a common narrative device.
In super utmost simplest terms, the want will drive the main tension
which is resolved at the end of the second act.
/I'm here to erase Clementine Kruczynski./
Max wants to survive and be alone.
Tony wants to take control of the weapons he's sold.
Eddie Valiant wants to find out who's made a patsy out of him.
/Somebody's made a patsy outta me and I'm gonna find out why!/
And the protagonist's need, which defines the character growth,
will resolve the tension of the third act.
Again, these are rules that don't apply to all films,
and you're more likely to see them in really conventional, easy-to-digest narratives like Disney movies.
The want is the protagonist's internal motivation and pushes the narrative forward.
/There's this girl./
Even in ensemble pieces where everyone gets their own subplot and character arc,
the momentum of the plot is generally going to be pushed by one character's central conflict.
In X-Men 2, for instance, it's Wolverine's search for his past,
which culminates in him turning his back on the one guy with the key to it.
So, the incident being incited, the second sequence of the first act builds to the creation of the main tension,
culminating with a lock in, or the hero deciding to go on their quest.
/You have my word./
/Done!/
The quest can be small and interpersonal, like deciding to go to France to get your cheating fiance back,
or to erase all memory of your ex-girlfriend,
or more epic, like volunteering to take the Ring to Mordor,
or deciding to go with Obi-Wan to learn the ways of the Jedi,
or deciding to help Furiosa and the Wives escape Immortan Joe.
It can also mean that your basic human decency means you are now stuck in a deadly game of cat and mouse.
The end of Act I establishes what's called the main tension.
/We're going to the Green Place of many mothers./
Will Luke and Obi-Wan find Princess Leia?
Will Llewellyn outsmart Chigurh?
Will Django succeed in rescuing his wife from Candie?
Sequence 3 marks the first sequence of Act II.
Usually this will show the quest making some ground,
and culminate with our heroes achieving some milestone
or learning something.
Hercules completes his training.
Simba decides Hakuna Matata.
Tony begins to develop a new Iron Man Suit.
Sequence 4 sees the buildup to the midpoint,
which most commonly shows us the protagonist
working towards the first serious attempt to achieve their goal.
/I'm erasing you, and I'm happy!/
Megamind trains his replacement rival for their first battle.
Hercules goes looking for a fight to prove himself.
Simba begins to revisit his past.
Sequence 4 culminates with a midpoint.
Usually this will change the aim of the hero's quest.
The midpoint marks some sort of disruption.
The protagonist runs into his childhood lion best friend,
disrupting his idyllic life and making him question his decisions.
Maybe our protagonist's little friend died,
showing them that they're not only fighting for themselves,
and also gaining them sympathy in the eyes of the masses.
Or maybe getting dumped makes them the river to their old evil ways.
Joel realizes he doesn't want to have his memory of Clementine erased, and begins trying to stop the process.
/Can you hear me? I don't want this anymore, I want to call it off!/
The main tension of the second act hasn't been resolved,
but something about it has changed.
The midpoint ups the tension for the final match by shifting the focus of the main tension while not yet resolving it.
The fifth sequence following the midpoint will build on this change.
The challenge here is generally to keep from second act sag.
When someone says that there are problems in the second act,
that's probably what they mean.
The shift in focus from the midpoint doesn't follow through in a satisfactory manner,
or there's filler in the middle that lengthens the run time or adds action scenes but doesn't really add any momentum or tension.
The fifth sequence will also usually focus on some subplot or secondary character or backstory
so as not to make the story too monolithic, and also to ease some tension.
Meg realizes she's falling in love with Hercules.
The War Boy, who was our hero's enemy, now joins the side of the righteous.
The receptionist, while outwardly dating Mark Ruffalo, begins to show an unusual interest in her boss.
Subplots are important; they keep the story from feeling too episodic,
like one guy just encountering a series of obstacles,
and other characters can help resolve loose threads and expand on more universal themes.
The sixth sequence is the last sequence of the second act.
The end of Act II shows us the main culmination,
or the resolution of the main tension.
The end of Act II will generally have the protagonist encounter their biggest challenge yet,
which is why the end of Act II typically is when we see our hero at their lowest point...
/A hero to zero, a hero to zero!/
...and is generally the preamble to some momentous decision that defines character growth
and creates the new tension in Act III.
We have set out to find the Green Place, only to find out it no longer exists.
Joel's memories of Clementine have now been all erased.
Jafar just golfed me into the Himalayas or something.
And now everything seems hopeless.
If it's a whodunnit, generally this is where you will find out whodunnit...
/That's the gun that killed R. K. Maroon, and Doom pulled the trigger./
...and Act III will be about bringing whodunnit to justice.
Also, if there is a big betrayal or the plot has built on some character deceiving another, that generally goes here.
/...mean your little chickie-poo here was working for me all the time./
Llewellyn dies at the end of Act II of No Country for Old Men
and Act III is a much more thematic build and release of tension rather than being action-driven
as the first two acts had been, with the conclusion of the film being much more existential.
It is still very much three acts, as demonstrated by the build and release of different tensions.
Sequence 7 marks the beginning of Act III,
and begins with the protagonist making some momentous decision that creates Act III's tension.
/I suggest we go back the same way we came./
Act III's tension will be related to the main tension, but is now different.
The tension is no longer "Escape with Django's wife," it's "Destroy Candyland completely."
It is no longer "Will Katniss save herself?" but "Will Katniss and Peeta save each other?"
It is no longer "Escape to the Green Place," but "Overthrow the existing power structure completely."
It is important to note that the third act tension can't come completely out of nowhere.
It can't simply be an extension of the main tension,
but must also build on it in order to be satisfying to the audience.
/Holy Smoke, he's a Toon!/
The twist in the third act is important
because it makes the tension more interesting than just straight fighting for 45 minutes...
...although just straight fighting for 45 minutes has become increasingly popular.
The twist in the third act also generally brings the focus of the third act tension
from something more grand, like saving the world,
to something more intimate and character-oriented like saving a beloved character's life.
Furiosa gets stabbed.
This shifts the focus from overthrowing the citadel to saving her life.
WALL-E gets squished.
This shifts the focus from bringing the humans home to saving WALL-E's life.
Same for Meg getting squished.
Or the MacGuffin being given to the physically weaker, but more central protagonist to go do the thing.
The twist in the third act isn't also necessarily a twist.
Esmerelda's fake death in Hunchback of Notre Dame brings the conflict to a more intimate place,
but it doesn't really change anything because she was always Quasimodo's focus,
but it is something that narrows or shifts the focus of the third act's main tension.
/Stop!/
The climax shows us the resolution to the final tension.
EVE races to save WALL-E, and succeeds.
The magic spell is broken, Beast turns human, and Belle's like "Meh, you'll do."
Max gives his blood to save Furiosa's life, symbolized by him finally telling her his name.
/Max./
/My name is Max./
In a romance, the couple finally gets together, and love conquers all,
though this does not necessarily preclude someone dying.
The climax usually pertains to some form of character growth,
such as Luke learning to trust his feelings,
allowing him to destroy the Death Star,
or Megamind's goodness being defined by finally learning from his mistakes, which he never did as a villain.
/There's a benefit to losing. You get to learn from your mistakes./
And the character growth we see in the third act was probably addressed in the first sequence.
/Toons./
Eddie has come to terms with his brother's death and no longer blames all of Toondom for it.
Aladdin realizes that pretending to be something he's not won't win him love.
Joel accepts that our memories, even painful ones, make us who we are and must be lived with.
Shia LaBeouf... well... he's still a s**t but now he's a s**t that stuck a cube in Megatron's chest, I guess.
But this resolution doesn't always have to be so conventional.
For instance, with Nightcrawler,
where the growth is that he doesn't grow and that's what makes the narrative unsettling.
Hopefully you don't notice structure elements while you're watching a movie for the first time
unless you're bored and that's all you can focus on.
And I've definitely done that.
But they are there for us to learn from, and to help us learn
how tension and conflict is created and maintained
throughout a two-hour-ish narrative.
We don't study the three act structure to learn how to be more creative,
but to be more critical of writing and aware of what drives momentum of a story.
Hulk asserts that learning about act structure is not instructing you how to actually write;
it provides none of the good stuff that is critical to understanding narrative.
And I would agree with the first part,
but not the assessment that it provides no basis for understanding narrative.
I don't think the study of story helps with the creative process
so much as it helps us to understand why what we've already created works.
But structure and tension also does not exist independent from character.
Far from it.
You need character motivation in order for narrative to have tension,
and you need to have plot stuff in order to have character motivation.
As a writer if you think only in terms of ticking boxes for the sake of structure,
yeah, it's probably not going to be a very great story.
That I think is one of the biggest problems with Hercules.
But it can help us to understand where and how tension and conflict exist and can be bettered.
I also don't think of the three act structure as necessarily something to advocate or not advocate,
but simply the most common and commercial style of narrative,
and therefore a good place to start learning.
I don't think it's mandatory for all film narratives to have a three act structure,
but I do think it helps to understand how it works before one decides to expand upon that structure.
It is, after all, the most common and utilized for a reason.
Thank you for watching!
If you have any examples or discussions about movies
that do or do not necessarily adhere to the three act structure,
go ahead and leave them in the comments below.
Thanks for watching, and I will see you next time.