Some writers see their central characters only as figments of their imagination, with free reign to embark on any flights of fancy or improbability no matter how outrageous or detached they might be from human possibility. Dynamic and breathtaking as the stories may be, for me, the protagonists should reveal genuine human emotions and responses in order to achieve ultimate empathy and credibility, whatever the absurdities of their situation or questionable direction of the story arc.
To that end, personal experience can be a contributing factor in any unfolding scenario, making its beating heart just as vital as the plot. Central characters, to my mind, have to be driven people, with a high level of motivation, even if they have been forced into a situation that they neither asked for nor wanted, but have to resolve. When Ted Kramer's wife walks out on him he must not only learn to care for his son but fight in court to keep custody of him, discovering selflessness along the way. Superman can fly and fend off bullets but he can become just as vulnerable as the rest of us when experiencing true love or his Achilles heel is uncovered. A Jamaican bobsleigh team may aspire to do the impossible and win the Winter Olympics, but such laughable improbability is overcome by fierce determination, prompting self-discovery, the catalyst for character transformation and enlightenment.
A few months ago I was invited to give a talk at my old school on my experiences of working in film and television. I had spent several years tutoring documentary production at Ealing Studios, where I talked about cinema directors who brought varying levels of life experiences to their stories through an involvement in the realities of documentary film-making. The theme for my talk became self evident when I discovered the school motto was ‘Believe in Yourself,’ a call to arms that would have particular significance to anyone who has spent a lifetime overcoming fear, disappointment, rejection or persecution, but perhaps not as meaningful to a sixteen-year-old about to embark on a life journey.
As I formulated the script, my theme of self-belief began with general observations of the values of passion, commitment and self-sacrifice being fundamental to success, narrowing the creative field down to film technicians, dancers, writers and actors. I recalled my own daughter’s determination to play the mad dentist, Orin Scrivello, in Little Shop of Horrors in her final school year before setting off for university. Whilst she had always had a tremendous ability for creative self-expression, she sometimes lacked the confidence to perform in public. Such was her determination to overcome this fear that she insisted on taking on this incredibly demanding role – and pulled it off in the presence of a bemused but highly appreciative audience.
I recalled, too, the twelve year old lad who had to walk a beam some sixty feet from the ground during the making of the BBC Raven series. He sobbed with fear with each tentative step, but grim determination forced him to complete the task, and the feeling of achievement was evident on his face the moment he was hoisted back to ground level, bearing the widest of smiles.
Ambitions formed during our schooldays often stay with us and become careers - a faith in our own abilities being at the forefront of our quest for success. Writers, like anyone, suffer rejection, criticism and moments of self-doubt, but self-belief is a part of an armoury that defies all obstacles and is often reflected in the stature, tenacity and depth of our own central characters.
