THE ROOT OF STORYTELLING

By David Beilstein

Continuing my plunge into storytelling comes advice from screenwriter Terry Rossio. Rossio goes on to belabor the point screenplays (the basis upon which all movies derive) require a strange/compelling attractor:

You can call it a hook or a gimmick or a twist. Sometimes it’s called a high concept: an idea for a movie that can be stated in one or two sentences. You can substitute high concept for strange attractor but strange attractor is more precise. What good is a short, simple idea for a movie if it doesn’t also attract people?

Later, Rossio concludes:

The best strange attractors explore a bit of the human condition that is specific, universal, and (if possible) has never been done before.

The key points here being human (condition) and universal application. Religious affections and claims are universal in that human beings experience and live-out those convictions, true or false. But audiences do not necessarily share in those convictions. In a movie, the effectiveness of the storytelling medium in fact necessities audiences do not have to have those convictions.

Audiences must be (and are) human.

It is this accurate presupposition - what I call the inescapable man-as-imago dei Creator/creature paradigm - that rationalises storytelling for us and gives us its impact. The notion such an epistemic paradigm cannot be proven within itself does not make the claim false.

It is true because it must be true.

It has been said movies are nothing more than trapping a protagonist in a tree - using an antagonist to throw rocks at the protagonist, and finally, finding a way to get the antagonist out of the tree (resolution) in a satisfying and most importantly, a dramatic way. To use this “means” - or media - as a message soundboard corrupts the natural design of storytelling.

If movies are a pulpit (as a friend of mine suggested) what they do and can only preach is the human condition. And they will do so based upon the pervading ethos of the time and cultural context in which they arise.

JRR Tolkien was richly aware the storyteller is not trying to dominant the audience’s imagination - but pursues to release it. The storyteller (in effect) is trying to “imitate” all of life’s vagaries so that audience collectively says, “That’s how it is.” This is precisely what cannot happen when movies are used as an evangelistic arm no matter the intentions.

St Paul is worthy of discussion here. The transformer evangelical who wishes to use cinema as an evangelistic tool ceases to allow the Apostle his due. It is one thing to run rough shot over the parameters and design of storytelling, quite another to ignore St Paul. As the Apostle makes clear, faith comes from hearing the Word of God preached.

Human beings are not the “deciders” of God’s gracious condescension. They are the recipients of it.

What continues to boggle my mind is the transforming evangelical’s need to use good and secular things and try to make them Sacred. More worrisome, I keep hearing how movies can be “Christian” simply because of the pietistic ramblings of believers, running rough shot over the design and structure of storytelling altogether.

I happened upon an interesting e-mail from a lady friend. She’s quite amazing. What was interesting to me is how she said my convictions are somewhat unique to Reformed Christians she knows. I’m positive her observation is true, but my suggestion has always been, historically, my convictions are simply common sense. A distinction between the Sacred-secular kingdoms has been a proto-Protestant and Protestant/Lutheran development for many moons. Only recently, in the words of Westminster Seminary California Professor R. Scott Clark, has there been a desire to transform this and transform that - seeing common things as Sacred, et cetera, et cetera.  

It is important to note this has done large disservice to those cultic distinctions Christians do have - and aspire towards in obedience to Christ the Messiah against those of non-believers. 

Sigmund Freud was infamous for saying sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. Could it be - as much of what Freud said is algebra to me - storytelling is simply storytelling? Moreover, other than a commitment to the sternest verity, is the Christian saint’s vocational impetus in storytelling objectively different than the non-believers?

I am not convinced it is.