Screenwriting Tips: Character Qualities
The Murder on the Orient Express.
Last lesson, I went over the different roles a character could have. Today, I’m listing off the five main qualities a character can hold. Rather than the role, which affects the character’s importance within a story, quality simply defines the nature of the character themselves. What do they experience over the course of a tale? Quality determines a character’s significance over the course of the story, and how they change through development. Knowing these will help in the long run, even though you’ll likely be aiming to use only some of these examples. It’s important to know what kind of character you are ending up with; a lead can’t be flat (unless this is an intentional decision, and the proper protocol is taken), and having an overly nuanced tertiary character might be pointless and distracting. Let’s get started.
Lawrence of Arabia.
Dynamic
This is the most important type of quality protagonists, antagonists, and other major characters can have. Dynamic means these characters change in noticeable ways over the course of the story. This can be improvement, a descent into evil, or changes that don’t really carry a certain quality. All you know is that this character is not the same being you met at the start of the picture. This is known as character development: the texturing of a literary character by allowing their experiences to affect them in some way. Maybe a devoted doctor couldn’t save a life and no longer wants to practice the profession. A dragon might be tired of blocking castle doors, and finds interest elsewhere.
A great example is T. E. Lawrence in Lawrence of Arabia, who starts the film off (excluding the prelude) clumsy and buffoonish, only to become significantly powerful and infamous throughout the picture. Lawrence grew as a character, and you’re compelled to stick by him because of this growth.
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.
Round
Round is similar to dynamic, in the sense that characters grow. However, there’s something special with round characters, like you’ve been planted in the middle of their developmental arc and have missed something (whereas dynamic characters feel like they have a point A and a point B, and et cetera). These characters are already mysterious or well rounded, and yet they continue to grow still. While it might seem like a good idea to have every main character rounded in this way, reserving this quality for specific characters will create a better literary harmony, rather than seem like the entire story is now missing parts (since every character is round).
In The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (either version), Michael Blomkvist is dynamic. We see an established character put into a new scenario. Lisbeth Salander is round; we feel as though we’re placed smack dab in the middle of her life. This is enforced with Salander’s flash backs we get, but even from the beginning, we know there is a lot to this character that we have to know. Rounding both characters may work, but it’s a better contrast to have Blomkvist dynamic (more set in stone, easier to figure out) and Salander round (more mysterious, we inquire more, and try to get to know her outside of how others label her).
The Grand Budapest Hotel.
Static
Static characters don’t change at all over the course of a picture. This can be seen as a problem, if you’re meant to identify with a character and see them personally grow. However, creating static characters can be a great decision for certain types of films; satires, comedies, horror and other genre films. You’re not meant to connect personally with these characters. Maybe you’re meant to laugh from afar, or be frightened by them. There’s a chance you’re not meant to think much of them at all, especially if they’re tertiary.
Dmitri in The Grand Budapest Hotel is an absolute joke of a character, who doesn’t change one iota. He’s meant to seem like a simpering, bigoted child, who is clearly spoiled by fortune and privilege. We’re meant to laugh at his misfortunes and tantrums. If he had a change of heart, maybe we would feel sympathetic towards him. That’s clearly not what was intended, seeing as he is considerably stupid and insufferable (in a comedic way) for the entire film.
No Country for Old Men.
Symbolic
A symbolic character can be dynamic or static, but they’re created to represent something else entirely. These characters usually fit thematically within a narrative, so their intentions are crystal clear. A genie can resemble hope and desire. A talking fox can symbolize shiftiness. These metaphors can take on a greater meaning as well, particularly an actual portion of the story’s soul. A sergeant can mean a war is coming when written a certain way. An angel can mean a character’s acceptance of death. Characters can also foreshadow; maybe a talking crow sitting outside of a mansion lets us know that evil is afoot.
Anton Chigurh is a great example in No Country for Old Men: a picture where people wrestle with their own mortalities and purposes in life. Chigurh resembles death, and this is marked in clear ways (how most people that come in contact with him die, how he cannot be stopped, and his demeanour and voice also help). This is important to the story, because the southern gothic style now has a metaphorical angle that connects you to the film on a spiritual level. We’re not just watching crimes occur. We’re worrying about death looming over all of us. We get sucked into what the story is trying to say about existential desperation, and this symbolic character works.
The Wizard of Oz.
Stock
Stock characters can also be dynamic or static, but they fulfil a much more blatant purpose. They are attributed to a certain archetype (more on that tomorrow) that you find in many stories: lone rangers, detectives, mentors, lovers, jesters (comedic relief) and more. This is a cookie cutter type character you’ve seen before, who holds very specific values and fulfils certain requirements (or goes against them, but makes these existing rules blatantly exist in this world too). Stock characters can be a saving grace when your film has enough dynamic characters, but is missing someone to tie them all together. Too many stock characters make a film formulaic and lifeless, but one or two can help get you back on track if you feel you’ve lost your way trying to develop lead characters.
Gilda the Good Witch in The Wizard of Oz is a beacon of hope for Dorothy and friends, and you know every time you see her that help is on the way. You only ever see her when she is providing wisdom or gifts, so you know instantly she is the “caregiver” archetype. As if we are conditioned by the film to think only a certain way of this character, we feel happy whenever we see Gilda, knowing that she will have at least some sort of a solution for the story when things get worrisome.
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.