Understanding Theme

When I took a screenwriting class in college, one of the first questions the teacher asked us was:

“What is the moral of your story?”

Somewhat baffled, we exchanged glances and smirks. He surely didn’t mean one of those corny lines they tell you at the end of a fable, did he? He must mean something else.

Faced with a silent class, the teacher blatantly expanded. “You know, like ‘there’s no place like home’ or ‘love conquers all’?”

Most of us rolled our eyes. Yeah, why don’t we talk about something interesting like how do we format our scripts and sell them to start making millions. But the teacher pressed on. “Every story has a theme. Even the most banal ones are trying to tell us something.” He continued with a painful (and nausea-provoking) exposé of the theme of several beloved films.

Appalled, I ignored the guy and drove home.

Years later, after I’d explored novel writing with four drafts of a first novel and two of a second, I came to realize my teacher was on to something. As many of you know, the resolution of both of my novels has been a struggle and I had to rewrite the endings several times. In a desperate search for answers and knowledge (after producing a questionable ending for my latest novel) I embarked on a research odyssey where I read everything and anything with the word “ending” on it. I even wrote this post (shameless advertisement alert!)

Finally, I came across this line:

"You must resolve the core conflict, otherwise your premise will remain unproved.” (Donna Levin, Get That Novel Written.)

(Core conflict being the conflict implied by the premise.)

Ms. Levin cites Cinderella as an example. “The premise for Cinderella is beauty and goodness triumph over evil and ugliness… If the story of Cinderella ended before the messenger demanded to see the third sister, we'd be left with, beauty and goodness do something with evil and ugliness, but it's your guess what.” (Levin, Pg. 83)

Eureka! I’d found the source of my problem. My novel’s final scene had NOTHING to do with the original premise. I had simply written a scene about how I envisioned my main character to resolve her (physical) problem and live happily-ever-after. But it didn’t say anything about the human condition or her inner growth or her understanding of well, anything.

I reexamined my moral premise (because I did have one—I promise!)

Selfishness leads to destruction and pain,
but generosity leads to life and happiness 

So what’s wrong with it? You ask. Well, it sounds very nice on paper, except that it’s a very abstract concept. How could I execute it in a way that was clear and touched my audience in an emotional way? Sure, I could have the protagonist engage in an ultimate, heartbreaking sacrifice in the last scene, but given that sacrifice often leads to suffering, how was my premise going to be proven? After all, my thesis stated that the protagonist had to have a happy ending as a result of her selflessness? And that was when my epiphany came: the problem wasn’t that my novel’s ending was predictable and it belonged to a different genre, the problem was that it had absolutely nothing to do with the premise because the theme was all wrong! There was no way to prove my thesis because I’m not sure that in practice ALL selfishness leads to destruction and ALL sacrifices lead to happiness.

To my surprise and delight, the theme of my novel had always been there. I just had to understand what I had been trying to say all along (I know it sounds crazy, but if you’re a writer you’ll understand what I mean.) Once I recognized the real moral premise, I knew how my novel had to end.

This experience taught me the importance of having a good theme from the beginning—as irrelevant as it may seem. It really does guide the development of your novel and eventually, its resolution.

In The Moral Premise (a book that, in my opinion, every writer should read), Stanley D. Williams states that in every film/novel there are two stories happening simultaneously. One is the physical one (plot) which consist of the actions the hero has to take in order to achieve his goal. The second story (theme) is the emotional arc the hero goes through during his journey, which is actually the “unknown goal” that changes him in an uplifting, touching, irreversible way. What I find interesting is that the emotional storyline may be in direct conflict with the hero’s physical goal—and he may not know it until the end. (In other words, what the hero wants is not always what he needs.)

The success of a work of fiction, according to Williams, is directly proportional to how much the audience agrees/identifies with the premise. If the premise is not considered valid by general consensus, a disconnect may happen between the audience and the story. This is why sometimes we leave a movie theater thoroughly disappointed and may not know the reason. The answer is simple: the message may not have been in tune with our own principles and values. Williams goes as far as assuring us that this disconnect with the audience often leads to box office failure.

I don’t know how true this last statement is, but I recently experienced a disconnect with a film that had a very interesting hook. (SPOILER ALERT!) In "Limitless", a man takes a pill that gives him 100% access to his brain. Assuming it's true that we only use 20% of this organ, the premise is absolutely gripping. Think of all the possibilities! From a starving writer with zero inspiration, he goes on to becoming a bestseller author. (Let’s set aside the fantasy that he has a publishing contract, an editor and an agent without having written a single word of his novel and let’s focus on theme.) As it turns out, literary greatness is not his objective anymore once his mental capacities are heightened. He realizes that his fantastic brain power can make him a lot more money that he ever dreamed possible, and through stock-buying and orchestrating big merges, he becomes a business success in a matter of weeks. Women fall like flies on his lap and he masters several cryptic languages at once. With this much power, you’d think he does something good for humanity, like find the cure for cancer or something worthwhile. But no, he spends his time making his personal fortune grow and escaping some dubious characters who want to steal his drug stack. As a viewer, I can tolerate most excesses in a character with the hopes that in the end, he’ll redeem himself. So I patiently waited for the moment where the self-centered hero would humble himself and change. Not the case of "Limitless." The protagonist eventually comes up with an endless supply of the coveted pill, gets his girlfriend back (plus more money that he could ever need) and crushes/betrays his former mentor. What was the moral premise here? Selfishness and greed lead to success?

"Limitless" had a riveting hook, but what did it say about humans in the end?

In contrast, let’s look at "Pride and Prejudice," a simple story about a man who's quick to judge a woman on her looks and lower social status. As the story progresses, Mr. Darcy realizes there’s more to Elizabeth Bennet than meets the eye and falls in love with her. When he reveals his feelings toward her, she’s too proud to accept his marriage proposal. (Click here to watch the scene.)

In the end, both of them realize how destructive “pride” and “prejudice” are, and “reject these vices” (to use Williams’ terminology). By apologizing and making amends, both of them “choose virtue” and have a happy ending. This premise is identifiable and true. How many of us haven’t, at some point in our lives, been guilty of excessive pride and prejudice?

The proud Mr. Darcy at the ball where he met Elizabeth.

Jane Austen sure understood the importance of a good premise. Two hundred years later, her books are still being read and translated to film, television and plays.

In conclusion:

• Every story must have a moral premise that rings true to the majority of readers/viewers.
• Said premise shouldn't be an abstract concept of what the world should be like, but something concrete most people can relate to.
• The premise must be proven through consequences (good or bad) for our characters at the end of the novel.
• A moral premise will give the writer a blueprint of where to go with the story, rather than just concentrating on the physical action and “what happens next.”

Can you think of other films/novels where you've disagreed/felt a disconnect with the theme? Can you think of the moral premise of your own novel and put it in one sentence? Do you come up with your premise first and then write your novel or do you realize what it is after you've finished writing (guilty!)?