Twenty
The 5 Ps

They Help Build Character

The quality of LIKENESS is usually taken to mean like us. After all, if the goal of character is to serve the story and the goal of the story is to reflect something universal of our experience back to us, then it makes sense that the character experiencing these events be one that allows an audience to say, “Ah, that is me.”

But just what makes a character identifiable, true to life, in a way that is different from the previous concepts of Goodness and Appropriateness?

For Aristotle, it simply means they possess qualities and traits that real people possess. And central to his analysis is that, while he insists a character must be good, he quickly adds the disclaimer that they not be TOO GOOD.

After all, who can really relate to Mr. Perfect? We want to see ourselves, warts and all. We want mimesis.

Aristotle likens character to the work of a portrait painter who reproduces the original by depicting both its beauty and defects. So, too, must the writer depict both the good and bad aspects of its subjects, as he lauds Homer for portraying Achilles as both a good man and a “paragon of hubris.”

Take a look back at our list of memorable characters from the previous chapter. Notice how each is characterized by both positive and negative attributes. Notice how at times these qualities may appear downright contradictory. After all, aren’t YOU full of contradictions? That dichotomy goes a long way toward making them real, making them like us.

And as we’ve discussed before, Aristotle takes the idea of imperfection one step further, saying that characters must not only have flaws, but must have some singular, specific frailty that brings about their misfortune. So just as Achilles has hubris, Oedipus is rash, Hamlet is indecisive, and Macbeth ambitious.

That frailty is the HAMARTIA, what we’ve come to know as our hero’s tragic or fatal flaw, or what I like to call their PRIMARY FLAW. It’s an explicit defect—an Achilles Heel—that at the outset prevents them from being whole, from being who they need to be.

And throughout the story, this flaw provides a tremendous source of conflict, as well as an opportunity for the character to grow and change. And just as importantly, it provides us an opportunity to identify with them. For we all are flawed.

So look again at our list of memorable movie characters. What would you say are their primary flaws?

The bottom line, when it comes to Aristotle’s notion of likeness, is that characters should be like us, only better, yet not so good that we cannot relate or identify. If they are better than us, but still imperfect, then we can recognize ourselves in them, both in terms of who we are and who we want to be. And that combination makes them worthy of our attention.

But in practical terms, how do we accomplish this? How do we imbue our characters with all the characteristics, traits, qualities, and experiences, good and bad, that actual people, people we can recognize, possess?

Quite simply, we do that by building them, layer by layer, from the ground up.

Thankfully, no one says we need to start with a completely blank slate. Still, let me warn you not to base your characters on other characters. They are already removed from reality, and a representation of a representation can’t help but show the artifice.

No, to have your characters seem real, like living, breathing creatures, two-dimensional on screen, but three-dimensional in our hearts and minds, you must draw them from your own reality.

Hmm, where have we heard that before? Just as our original discussion of story was all about striking a balance between fiction and personal truth, the same holds true for CHARACTER.

You must create a fictional construct that serves your story, yet build it from the reality of personal experience.

So draw inspiration from people you know, people whom you’ve met. And whom do you know the best?

YOU, of course.

One of my earliest memories of film school occurred on the first day in my first writing class. The instructor, screenwriting guru Hal Ackerman, went around and had everyone confess why they’d decided to pursue this crazy profession. When it was my turn, I thought I’d try to make everyone laugh, being the insecure cut-up that I was. So I cheekily said, “Writing is the only way to silence the voices in my head.”

No one laughed.

I chuckled embarrassedly to myself, and then saw the reason they weren’t laughing was that they were all nodding in sober agreement. They hadn’t realized I was joking, since I’d actually inadvertently spoken a truth.

I know some writers who will argue that every character they write is some voice in their head, some facet of their own personality. And add me to that list. Because when you’re writing, the best way to know how your character would respond in a given situation is to be able to put yourself in their shoes.

So begin with yourself. That’s how you make a character universal, real, and identifiable. Since, believe it or not, YOU are all those things. But to your own qualities, you must mold and shape and add the ones that serve your story, that compel your character to act in ways that move it in the direction it needs to go.

And whether you base a character on aspects of yourself or someone else you know well, one thing is certain. To make a character seem real on the screen, you must treat them as if they are real on the page, and that requires knowing them inside and out, backwards and forwards.

To that end, there are TWO ESSENTIAL STEPS to fully forming a character.

The first involves making specific choices about all the various qualities, traits, and attributes a character possesses. And as usual, we can look to Aristotle for a guide.

As I said back at the intro, Aristotle wrote treatises on just about every subject under the sun. But one for which he was most prolific was biology. He wrote many works on the anatomy of animals, how they moved, reproduced, what made them tick. Check them out some time; they’re fascinating.

But for our purposes, one of the most interesting aspects of these various treatises is that he makes absolutely no distinction between a subject’s physiology and their psychology. Indeed, his approach to dissecting an organism, human or otherwise, is very holistic, incorporating the body, mind, and soul, as if every aspect of an organism’s being is relevant to understanding any one part.

And that same philosophy should be applied to crafting fully fleshed-out characters. To make them “like us” we must make choices about every aspect of them.

To that end, most writers I know make use of some kind of worksheet to help separate the countless qualities real people possess into different categories.

James Egri set the bar for such a character breakdown in his indispensible The Art of Dramatic Writing, in which he created what he called “The Character’s Bone Structure,” separating attributes into the three dimensions of physiology, sociology, and psychology.

Building from his foundation, and incorporating Aristotle’s admonition to look at the totality of the individual, I like to break down a character’s attributes into FIVE general categories, the 5 Ps, always keeping in mind that the primary consideration for any choice is to help maintain BELIEVABILITY while SERVING THE NEEDS OF THE STORY.

Those categories are: