Conflict by Daniel Calvisi www.actfourscreenplays.com

Conflict

The importance of conflict in storytelling, especially screenwriting, cannot be overstated. Your script must have unique, exciting, compelling conflict all the way through. It must change and it must escalate. Conflict must be there in the premise.

Consider romance as a genre. What romance features two lovers from the same side of the tracks? How long would you watch if those two lovers were obviously destined to be together and there wasn’t anything standing in their way? If they spent two hours falling in love and then in the end they got married? Sounds boring, huh? What if Romeo and Juliet’s families were tickled pink over these two star-crossed lovers getting hitched right away? You get the idea. Not much of a story.

Conflict, unique conflict, must be there from the getgo. It must be built into the premise, the foundation, of the story. The MASTER THIEF can’t just pull off the bank job effortlessly; he must be faced up against the MASTER THIEF CATCHER. A cop willing to go to the same lengths as the thief (as in Heat). Or, the hero who must catch a brutal serial killer is not a seasoned FBI agent, but a student from the FBI academy. And a physically small, female student, to boot. (as in The Silence of the Lambs).

Conflict must be extreme. It must surround the protagonist on all sides.

In Dog Day Afternoon, Al Pacino’s bumbling bank robber (on the hottest day of the summer) is bombarded by conflict from his hostages, his own partner, the police, his wife, his lover, the media, and the hostile crowd outside the doors of the bank.

Conflict is directly related to character.

In As Good as it Gets, Jack Nicholson’s germaphobic, homophobic shut-in novelist is suddenly forced to take care of his gay neighbor’s energetic dog.

Conflict flows directly from character, or it directly allows character to be shown. Conflict must allow deep character to evolve from a previously established characterization.

In First Blood, John Rambo is established as a silent, troubled Vietnam Vet drifter. When pushed, he turns into a super-commando capable of taking on a sheriff’s posse and a National Guard platoon.

If John Rambo started the story as a super-commando and continued to be a super-commando, then a huge amount of surprise and conflict would be drained and the story would cease to be a compelling drama and become a straight action thriller. Thus, the sequel, Rambo: First Blood Part II, a straight action thriller. In Rambo, in order to keep the interest of the audience to follow a seemingly unbeatable hero, John Rambo must be faced with very extreme conflict, that ideally will reveal new aspects of his character:

In Rambo, John Rambo prepares a stockpile of high-tech weaponry, only to lose all of these weapons and be left with only his knife.

Here’s another James Cameron-penned example:

In The Terminator, the target of the invulnerable killer cyborg, who must eventually become the victor, is SARAH CONNOR, a waitress who can’t even handle her day job.

If Sarah Connor were a master martial artist and commando, then you’d lose a lot of the conflict. Thus the sequel... okay, that’s getting old! Moving on...

A thought: David Mamet says that all an actor needs when he/she walks on stage is to know what they want from the other character/s. This is helpful to keep in mind as you write your characters’ dialogue. This establishes the basis for the conflict they will encounter. Establish what they need, then throw the worst possible threat at them to keep them from getting it.

Conflict must escalate. The protagonist/hero must be put up a tree, and you, the writer, must keep throwing stones.

In Speed, the hero must deal with a bomb in a building, a bomb on a bus, and a bomb on a moving train.

Conflict often escalates and eventually returns to its original form at the end.

In the climax of First Blood, after defeating multiple opponents, John Rambo faces off against the same lone Sheriff as he did in the opening.

In comedy, conflict often escalates to build the ultimate punchline and flows from a character’s misbehavior. This escalation is often referred to as the “laughter ladder." Stand-ups call it “setup, setup, punch." In There’s Something about Mary, the prom night set piece features a six-part laughter ladder. Six jokes, one after another. Ben Stiller’s high-school geek, whose misbehavior, or main source of conflict, happens to be that he is often in the wrong place at the wrong time, arrives at the home of the beautiful and popular Mary to escort her to the prom:

1. 1. Mary’s STEPFATHER, a practical joker, tells Ben that Mary already left with another guy.
2. Ben gets beaten up by Mary’s retarded brother WARREN.
3. Ben gets mistakenly accused of leering at Mary in her underwear.
4. Ben gets his genitals caught in his zipper.
5. Ben is embarrassed in front of Mary’s Parents, a COP and a FIREMAN.
6. The Fireman makes the injury worse and Ben is paraded in front of a huge CROWD as he is wheeled to a waiting ambulance.

If character is the actions taken against conflict, then conflict helps to build and develop character. Character is shown through action, and there is not much interesting action to be taken unless it is done in opposition to unique conflict.

In Sleepers, the final witness, the one who must intentionally lie under oath to protect a killer, is a Catholic priest.

And finally, the source of your protagonist’s conflict can be himself.

You talkin’ to me?

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