Post 138

I have had the tendency to lean toward morbidity off and on throughout my life. Due to my recent "paradigm shift," I no longer lean that way (though I don't know how long that will last; I am one given to vacillation in such matters), but I can understand, to some degree, those who do. This post, then, is not me looking down on anyone; this post is me pointing out some blatant cheating that pops up occasionally in fictional works.

A couple of weeks ago, I watched Dead Poets Society. [Random sidenote: is it just me, or ought there to be an apostrophe at the end of poets--Dead Poets' Society? I mean, doesn't that make more sense? Kinda like Two Weeks Notice (which I've never seen) probably ought to be Two Weeks' Notice. Does Hollywood have something against apostrophes?] I cannot tell you how many times I've had Dead Poets' Society (HA! Take that, punctuation nazis!) recommended to me; people have often told me that I would like it.

I don't know why it is, but many people seem to recommend movies to me that they don't like. Dead Poets' Society is one of them. K-Pax is another. Whenever I ask someone if they liked K-Pax, it seems like they say, "Meh. Not really. You'd like it, though; it's your kind of movie." Moulin Rouge is another movie I've gotten such recommendations for: "I don't know that you'd like it, Schmett, but I'm sure you could appreciate it." I'm never quite certain how to take these kinds of recommendations. Curiosity is bound to get the best of me eventually, though, so I may end up seeing all of these.

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, I was at the library and saw that they had Dead Poets' Society, so I picked it up and checked it out. I was not surprised (though somewhat chagrined) when one of my roommates saw what I was about to watch and said, "Oh, you'll like that movie: it's depressing." I think, actually, two of my roommates made such observations, the other one saying, "Oh, that movie? It's pretty good, and it's sad enough that you'll probably appreciate it."

*sigh*

So I watched it, and (get this:) I didn't like it. Not that I hated it; it just didn't really appeal to me. Which is sad because I really like Robin Williams in dramas (I own Jakob the Liar), and I also like teachery stories (Freedom Writers and Mr. Holland's Opus are in my DVD collection; Goodbye, Mr. Chips is on my bookshelf), so it seems like it should be a real winner. But it wasn't. It was good right up until the suicide, which, ironically enough, is probably the part that my roommates thought I would like. (Do I really seem that sick, guys? I mean, c'mon!).

Death is a powerful thing. I mean, on the list of Things That'll Change Your Life, I'm not sure anything is so dramatic as death. Maybe I just think that because I've never been directly affected by a birth, but endings always seem more dramatic than beginnings, so I'm willing to say that death is the more impactful of the two. (Yes, I did just make that word up). Because of this, death is an extremely useful tool for a writer of fiction, and I fear that, as a device, it is becoming a bit overused.

In high school, several of we Drama Club folk were aspiring novelists, and I remember talking with a couple of friends at lunch and we decided that one of the Rules of Fiction (back then, I believed such rules existed, but I've since gotten over that) was Someone's Gotta Die (were I still an advocate of rules, I'd probably give that one a cooler name--Subito Morte, perhaps). We all agreed on this because each of us had, in the course of writing our individual novels (all of them fantasy, of course; it's the easiest place to start--perhaps because it's the hardest one to screw up [oh dear... I'll get angry comments for that, I fear!])--in each of our novels, we had come to the point where we had to kill off a very lovable supporting role; we certainly didn't want to, but that was just the way it had to be. If you ever want readers to become really attached to your lead, you've got to kill off that kindly old father figure/mentor person (*ahem!* J. K. Rowling *ahem!* George Lucas *ahem!*) or that best friend friend or that love interest or whoever, and that's just the way it is with fiction.

That seems ridiculous to me now, but I'm glad I remember having that discussion, remember agreeing with that sentiment, because it helps me to understand why some writers are so fond of killing people. (It also makes me love Stanger than Fiction just that much more.) I mean, sure, sometimes people are going to die in stories. I'm not saying that death should be removed from fiction altogether; that would just be silly. What I'm saying is that death has become a crutch, and Subito Morte in any story throws up a little red flag in my head that flaps and shouts, "Amateur author!"

Granted, death is often sudden. As is stencil spray-painted in Gothic text on the side of a newspaper stand here in Provo, "...But Death Is Always Certain." I mean, death is coming for all of us, and sometimes he comes for us out of that proverbial blue, and that's fine. But sometimes death just doesn't make sense in the context of a story. I feel that Dead Poets' Society was a good example. Now, I'm no psychologist, but the suicide in Dead Poets' Society rubbed me the wrong way because it didn't seem to fit in the context of the character who killed himself. There was nothing in the movie up to that point to support that suicide--nothing! It just didn't make any sense at all.

But this is one of those stories wherein the teacher character must be kicked out of the school. How can we do this? Aha! We shall blame him for the suicide of one of his students! This will spark flames of injustice in the hearts of all who watch this movie, and they will be moved by that beautiful, poignant injustice we have created. Look at us; we are such good writers. Let's go get slobbering drunk and write a movie, guys! Who's with me?

Tonight I came across Subito Morte again as I watched The Bridge to Terebithia. This was an especially offensive death because the surrounding story wasn't strong enough to support the weight of it. It just--it wasn't that kind of story! Had the girl's family suddenly moved (Subito Moto?), I think the whole story would have played out about the same and probably been a bit more believable. I liked the movie other than that; I thought it was a pretty good story and an intriguing idea, but the death was adipose (sorry for the malapropism--I'm tired--can't think of the word I'm actually looking for--something like inappropriate--stuck with the one that popped into my head) and kinda turned me off to the rest of it.

So beware the Subito Morte! (And I mean that, I think, in every way possible.) If you deign to write a story, don't take any cheap-shot shortcuts; there are other, better ways!