Into the Woods

Key Takeaways

1. Story's Core Elements: Protagonist, Antagonist, Desire.

Effectively they’re us.

Basic story definition. A story introduces a central character (protagonist) and invites the reader/viewer to empathize with them, becoming an avatar in the narrative. Something happens to this character, usually a problem, which throws their world out of balance and initiates the story's journey.

• Protagonist: The central character the story revolves around.
• Antagonist: The force (person, thing, or internal struggle) the protagonist must overcome.
• Desire: What the protagonist actively wants, driving their actions.

Empathy over sympathy. Audiences don't necessarily need to 'like' a protagonist, but they must 'care' about them, often by recognizing shared feelings or impulses. This empathy allows us to enter the character's mind and experience the story vicariously, even if the character is flawed or morally ambiguous. The attraction lies in living through characters who embody our own hidden desires or fears.

Desire drives action. Without a clear goal or desire, a character is passive and uninteresting. This desire can be external (finding a lost object, catching a killer) or internal (overcoming fear, finding self-worth). Often, characters pursue what they want (a superficial goal) but ultimately need something else (to overcome a flaw), creating a powerful internal conflict that fuels three-dimensional storytelling.

2. The Universal Shape: Beginning, Middle, End (3 & 5 Acts).

Dramatic structure is not an arbitrary – or even a conscious – invention. It is an organic codification of the human mechanism for ordering information.

Ancient roots. Stories universally follow a structure with a beginning, middle, and end, a pattern traceable back to Aristotle. This isn't a modern invention but reflects a fundamental human need to impose order on perceived reality. The three-act structure (set-up, confrontation, resolution) is the most basic manifestation of this.

Five-act refinement. The five-act structure, popularized in classical and Elizabethan theatre, is a more detailed version of the three-act form. It essentially expands the middle section, adding further turning points or "surprises" (peripeteia) that change the direction of the narrative and propel the protagonist into new situations or worlds.

• Act 1: Exposition/Set-up
• Act 2: Rising Action/Complications
• Act 3: Climax of the Action (Midpoint)
• Act 4: Falling Action/Reversals
• Act 5: Catastrophe/Resolution

Dialectical process. This structure mirrors the dialectical process of human thought: thesis (initial state), antithesis (confrontation with opposite), and synthesis (integration and resolution). Stories take a flawed character, confront them with their opposite in an alien world, and synthesize the two to achieve balance or transformation.

3. Fractal Structure: Patterns Repeat at Every Level.

All these units are constructed in three parts: fractal versions of the three-act whole.

Structure within structure. Dramatic structure is fractal, meaning the same basic pattern repeats at different scales. Just as a whole story has a beginning, middle, and end (three acts), so too do individual acts and even scenes. These smaller units are built from even tinier components called beats.

Acts as mini-stories. Each act functions as a complete unit of action driven by a character's desire, containing its own set-up, conflict, crisis, climax, and resolution. The end of an act features a major turning point that spins the narrative in a new direction, often presenting the protagonist with a new goal or challenge.

Scenes as micro-structures. Scenes are the smallest dramatic units, also following a three-part structure (set-up, conflict, resolution). They are composed of beats (action/reaction pairs) and contain a turning point where one character achieves their goal or an unexpected reaction occurs. This scene turning point acts as a microcosm of the act or story crisis, forcing a choice and propelling the narrative forward.

4. The Power of Change & The Midpoint.

Change is the bedrock of life and consequently the bedrock of narrative.

Transformation is key. In three-dimensional stories, protagonists undergo change, overcoming internal flaws or needs. This transformation is inextricably linked to their dramatic desire; to achieve their goal, they must evolve. The story maps this journey from unconscious flaw to conscious mastery.

The pivotal midpoint. Occurring roughly halfway through a story, the midpoint is a moment of profound significance where something irreversible happens. It's often the point where the protagonist confronts the "truth" of the story or their own flaw, gaining crucial knowledge or experiencing a major shift in fortune.

• Titanic hits the iceberg.
• Michael Corleone commits murder.
• Thelma and Louise have sex and Thelma takes charge.

Point of no return. The midpoint marks the end of the outward journey and the beginning of the return. The protagonist gains a powerful "elixir" (knowledge, courage, etc.) but must learn to integrate it. This moment raises the stakes and forces the character to confront their deepest fears, setting the stage for the final conflict and potential transformation.

5. Character: The War Within (Façade vs. Flaw).

We are, I know not how, somewhat double in ourselves, so that what we believe we disbelieve, and cannot rid ourselves of what we condemn.

Internal conflict. Great characters are often at war with themselves, exhibiting a conflict between how they wish to be perceived (their façade or conscious want) and their deeper, often hidden feelings or vulnerabilities (their flaw or unconscious need). This duality is a gift from real life to drama.

Façades and defence mechanisms. Characters construct public faces or adopt psychological defence mechanisms to cope with internal conflicts and protect themselves. These façades, while intended to provide safety or bolster self-image, often become the very things that sabotage their ability to achieve true fulfillment or happiness.

• A man fearing intimacy becomes aloof.
• A woman fearing sex becomes puritanical.
• A character fearing abandonment acts selfishly.

Flaws offer redemption. Conversely, the traits a character perceives as weaknesses are often the elements that offer salvation and lead to integration and wholeness. The story becomes the journey to reconcile these opposing internal forces, moving from a state of division to one of balance.

6. Dialogue & Subtext: Showing, Not Just Telling.

What’s important is not the emotion they’re playing but the emotion they’re trying to conceal.

Dialogue as action. Dialogue is not merely conversation or narrative explanation; it is a form of action characters use to negotiate obstacles and pursue their desires. Every line, however seemingly insignificant, is an expression of intent and reveals something about the character speaking it.

Kuleshov Effect in words. Just as juxtaposing images creates meaning (the Kuleshov Effect), juxtaposing dialogue with action or context generates subtext. When a character says one thing but their actions or the situation suggest another, the audience is compelled to infer the true meaning, becoming actively involved in the narrative.

• A character says "I'm fine" while visibly trembling.
• A character declares love immediately after being attacked.

Subtext reveals character. Subtext emerges from the tension between a character's façade and their true intention. It reveals the hidden feelings, fears, or desires they are trying to mask. Good dialogue conveys this underlying meaning, allowing the audience to understand who a character really is without being explicitly told. Bad writing explains; good writing shows.

7. Opposites: The Engine of Drama.

The confrontation between opposites lies at story’s very heart.

Fundamental principle. The tension and interaction between opposing forces are fundamental to dramatic structure at every level. From the core conflict between protagonist and antagonist to the internal war within a character, drama thrives on duality.

• Protagonist vs. Antagonist
• Want vs. Need
• Façade vs. Flaw
• Order vs. Chaos
• Thesis vs. Antithesis

Newton's Third Law. This principle mirrors Newton's third law of motion: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. In drama, a character's action (driven by desire) is met by an opposing force, creating conflict and propelling the story forward. The strength of the opposition is crucial; a story is only as good as its antagonist or counter-argument.

Bridging the gap. Storytelling is the process of bridging these opposites, seeking synthesis and resolution. Characters assimilate qualities from their adversaries, inner conflicts are reconciled, and disparate elements are brought into coherence. This act of bridging opposites is the energy that drives the narrative from scene to scene and from beginning to end.

8. The Journey There, Journey Back Archetype.

All tales, then, are at some level a journey into the woods to find the missing part of us, to retrieve it and make ourselves whole.

Core narrative shape. At its essence, the universal story structure is a "journey there; journey back." A protagonist faces a problem or lacks something, leaves their familiar world (journeys into the woods), finds the solution or missing piece (often at the midpoint), and returns home, changed, to resolve the initial problem.

Manifestations of the archetype:

• Literal journey: Jack and the Beanstalk, Raiders of the Lost Ark.
• Internal journey: Overcoming a flaw, finding self-worth.
• Quest for knowledge: Detective stories, scientific discovery.

Finding the missing piece. The "missing part" can be a physical object, a piece of information, a character trait, or a psychological integration. The journey is not just external but also internal, leading to the protagonist's transformation and the restoration of balance, either within themselves or their world.

9. Television & Genre: Adapting the Shape.

Series, serials and singles have been bastardized, corrupted, or – some would argue – improved to meet the insatiable demands of their audience.

Economic drivers. Television drama formats (singles, mini-series, series) have evolved significantly, often driven by economic necessity and the audience's desire for familiar, returning characters. This has led to variations on the core structural archetype.

Mini-series as extended acts. Mini-series often follow the fractal pattern, with each episode functioning as an act in the overall story arc. The series as a whole has its own inciting incident (often the end of episode 1), midpoint, and crisis, mirroring the structure of a single film or play.

Series and repetition. Traditional series rely on self-contained stories of the week with characters who largely remain unchanged. They tap into the audience's craving for safety and predictability, with external threats invading a secure "home" (the precinct) and being vanquished by the regular characters working together. This structure embodies a dialectic where the thesis (the established order) meets antithesis (the threat) and refutes it, returning to the original state.

10. Why We Tell Stories: Ordering Chaos & Building Empathy.

Storytelling, then, is born from our need to order everything outside ourselves.

Imposing order. In a chaotic, meaningless universe, humans are compelled to impose order to maintain sanity. Narrative is a primary tool for this, linking disparate events into chains of cause and effect ("Post hoc ergo propter hoc"). This process of ordering is fundamental to perception and intelligence.

Empathy and connection. Stories allow us to step into the minds of others, fostering empathy. Neurological research suggests that watching characters experience emotions or actions activates similar brain areas in the viewer, creating a physiological connection. This shared experience builds compassion and extends our understanding beyond our personal lives.

Healing and growth. Stories provide models for overcoming flaws, resolving internal conflicts, and achieving psychological balance. They act as a map for individuation, allowing us to confront and integrate the "dark shadows" or opposing forces within ourselves, leading to growth and a sense of wholeness. Ultimately, stories help us make sense of the world and our place in it, bridging the gap between our inner selves and external reality.

Last updated: May 2, 2025

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