Any rational adult knows that a lived life follows no clear character arc; change comes fitfully, if at all. Stories—at least most traditional western narratives—are designed to represent a version of human growth that isn’t real. This is beginning to bother me.
I think it may be a lingering effect of having watched (and thought about) Annie Baker’s play CIRCLE MIRROR TRANSFORMATION, which doesn’t fall prey to what I’ve started to think about as the character arc problem. Another reason to admire what she’s done.
I want to write like that… but honestly, I don’t even know how. It feels as if the traditional character arc is embedded in my brain… which it may in fact be, the neuronal path having been well-worn by decades of reading and writing character arcs.
It’s almost as if I need an entirely new philosophy of drama… or, strictly speaking, any philosophy of drama at all. To date, I’ve primarily relied on my gut, adopting whichever style and techniques (philosophy put into practice) are appropriate for the subject matter I’m wrestling with.
I just don’t want my stories to be false. I treasure the truth—the real, material, natural truth—too highly.
But the relationship between stories and truth is complicated, I’m sure you’ll agree. It’s definitely a relationship I need to think about in a great deal more depth.
It may be difficult to write because character arc is so tightly linked to “plot.” Action is change, change is action.
I think that’s part of it. Hard to unlock both at once.
I think it’s impossible to write without arc, because if nothing is happening then why are we writing it? Why are we asking people to watch it? Perhaps what’s overemphasized is broad, dramatic, epic change; I think when people say that your character doesn’t have much of an arc, they’re often thinking of arc incorrectly.
I’m not convinced that it’s impossible. I think the resulting play might feel terribly strange to us, and perhaps not satisfying in some sense… but I think I’m more concerned about a false/smooth progression than anything. Character struggles with A, encounters B, learns C, etc. That’s not how life works, and if we’re going to write realism, we should be real.
I wish “Character arc,” as a term, was abolished from any conversation about theatre. I’ve been to so many talkbacks where actors who didn’t get asked to be in the performance/reading discuss how this character “needs more of an arc” or how that character “had an arc that didn’t quite pan out.” It’s getting to be a meaningless term and it makes my head hurt. What was Polonious’ arc? Give advice to kids, give advice to King, get stabbed. That’s a terrible arc. If arcs mattered.
I feel you on this, Gwydion. I think characters almost changing can be just as dramatic and interesting as characters actually changing. The failure to change, to mature, to whatever is often much more human than a big development.
Thing is, a character failing to change is still kind of an arc…it’s just a full circle. If a character *doesn’t do anything* then you don’t really have a story, but if a character wrestles and fails, he’s still not in the same place; even if the character actively strives not change, he’s different for having striven.
I’m not sure I get your full circle image, but I do agree that trying to change and failing is not the same thing as not changing…
I do loathe the “needs more arc” comment. It’s like saying to a friend “I wish you would just get it that he’s bad for you” or “You always antagonize your brother — you should stop.” People don’t always behave the way you want them to behave. Why should characters?