Remember the rule of three

It took me actually reading the script of Super 8 to finally realise what always irks me about J. J. Abrams' movies -- and why it doesn't necessarily irritate everyone. Here's a storyteller who (whether through directorial choices or the script he writes) doesn't care much for the rule of three, and pays only the meanest mind to foreshadowing.

The most glaring example (also the least in this argument, but I'll include it because J. J. was still responsible for the final product) was Star Trek Into Darkness, where Khan's super-blood is discovered by Bones to have healing properties because of his testing it on a dead tribble. The only tribble seen beforehand was the painfully ham-handed inclusion of Bones saying "I'm testing Khan's super-blood on a dead tribble because I think it might have healing properties." Cheers Orci and Kurtzman -- as though the rope afforded to a Noo Star Trek ("no longer sci-fi but an action movie instead") is also enough to have a poorly constructed denouement, even for a bad action movie.

Lucky, for fans of his other strengths, Mr Abrams isn't quite so brazenly bad at setting up plots, but in his own self-written movies we still see a lack of respect for the rule of three and foreshadowing. Take Super 8: the reason I decided to write this rant in the first place. Now those of us who dislike the end third of this film share a variety of story and thematic reasons for why it doesn't work -- chief among these (thanks Film Crit Hulk) being how the movie itself lacks evidence in its own understanding of what it wants to do with character resolution and themes. But the movie actually does know what it wants to say: it's just that there's not enough evidence that it does.

At the moment during the end when the alien picks up Joe, according to the shooting script the look it gives him with suddenly human-like eyes is 100% a callback to the Joe and Alice watching home movies scene (where she revealed her father's involvement in Joe's mother's death).

Here's the rub: if you want a particular idea (in this case "the eyes that see within") to sink in, you repeat it. This, in narrative language, highlights to the audience an intentional foreshadowing, rather than world-building or character filigree. You could in fact set aside other major problems with the ending of Super 8 ---

1. the tired cliché of human-like features cluing the audience to "oh, the scary alien's not so bad" (by gum, DOGS do this to us, it's not the most inventive idea), and

2. the fact that Joel Courtney's portrayal of Joe on screen (while captivating) is nowhere close to the suffering, loner tween that the final money shot needed him to be (thanks again to the Hulk -- the contrast between pre-letting-go-of-the-locket-Joe and the theoretical "better" Joe we hope for after the end of the movie just isn't there, he's too well adjusted) --

--- if you had just followed the rule of three, we'd be more inclined to believe "the eyes that see within" was reminiscent of Joe's mother. In other words, the ending of this still-flawed film could have been improved dramatically if the story had just used the rule of three for foreshadowing.

STAR WARS EPISODE VII SPOILERS INCOMING

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You can see the effect of following the rule contrasted with breaking it in the villain and hero of The Force Awakens -- Kylo Ren's struggle with the light sticks to the rule and so it is believable that in remedying his struggle he takes action, because we have had the issue first introduced, then developed at least once before it becomes important. Rule of three.

Conversely, all around the Internet, the detractors of Rey's arc cry foul at how improbably powerful she becomes during the final battle. A moment that was telegraphed when Maz Kanata tells her, part way into the film, that the Force is calling to her: that she has huge potential and she only needs to close her eyes and let it in. (Funny, I just realised that both this and the Super 8 example are "the eyes". Perhaps a running motif in Abrams' work, like super-blood in Orci and Kurtzman's?). You have to remember, and this part is well established, that Rey is not familiar with even hearing the word "Force", and so when Kylo offers to teach her in its ways, it is the mention of the word that causes Rey to recall Maz's teaching. Even with the other key developments with her use of the Force, between Maz and the climactic duel we never have that middle dialogue reference to "letting the Force in" that is necessary for the rule of three.

If the mention of the Force calling to Rey and her needing to let it in was developed before it became important once more in the fight with Kylo, I am fairly convinced that there would be fewer complaints about the apparent "ass pull". After all, one of the more acclaimed positives was Kylo's aforementioned struggle, which had the appropriate development.

For all we know, the infamously cut "Maz goes to the Resistance Base" sequence might have given us the developing mention of letting the Force in. In the final product, however, it doesn't matter because (and I'm being quite presumptuous here), Abrams cares more for pace, energy and ruthlessly propulsive editing than he does for whether or not viewers pick up an important motivational cue; one that can massage potential plot holes and appease narrative dorks like myself.

Leaving the Poorly Lit Closet

I love movies.

I love love love love love love love love movies.

This has been a hard thing to admit.

As a Christian, I follow the directives of: 1. Love the Lord, my God with all my heart and soul and 2. Love all of mankind. Those are the big ones.

Right below God and human beings is movies.

I just loooooooooooooove movies.

And it's taken me -- hmm, nearly ten years to admit that. My actual "infatuation" would have begun in 2006 with Pan's Labyrinth.

I love, love, loooooove movies.

I can't hide that fact and I have to stop running from it. It's not New Year's Eve yet, but in 2016, I resolve to do something about this.

I will leave the badly lit, 1-second-per-second closet and strike out for a new world of unbridled enthusiasm in 24-frames-a-second. Because God created human beings, and human beings make movies. Movies are just too important.

I have to do something. Because if there's one thing I can do in this world that might make a difference, and that I really, deeply care about -- it's got to do with movies.

Bone Reread: Out from Boneville Chapter 3

SO FAR ...
Having met and fallen head-over-heels for the young woman Thorn, Fone Bone returns home with her to hopefully find a way out of the Valley.

JEFF SMITH IS QUITE THE ARTIST
This issue is off to another great start with a single still of a forest clearing, juxtaposed by the very next image we see of Phoney trumping grumpily through the trees. I had to start with the way this issue looks because this reminds me of why I love the look of Bone.

Even in the scenes with multiple, repeated panels, Jeff Smith redraws the characters: it reminds me of a joke in Calvin and Hobbes, showing a bunch of talking heads and talking about how so many comics these days are xeroxed talking heads (of course, in the strip in question, Watterson also redrew each panel ... nice).

Another thing that became clear in the last few pages was just how cleverly distinct the different Bones are. Despite their facial features being basically the same, you can always tell Phoney's face from Fone Bone -- and I don't just mean because one of them is wearing a t-shirt.

FONE AND THORN
So we come to the continuing development of Fone and Thorn's relationship: an element that I understand added to the banning of Bone in several schools (also the sometimes "abrasive" language and the dragon's smoking ... pssh). Anyway, there's a lot to like here and it all comes down to tone.

First we have a reminder that Thorn rescued our little hero, that he certainly idolises her and later that (again) no one is going to believe him about the dragon -- all done with a light and humorous touch to establish the safety of the humans' home (this will also be important later in our "burning the homestead" phase of the Hero's Journey). We even get some deftly handled "sexism humour" that shows how Thorn and Fone Bone subvert their gender stereotypes -- she's the strong, earthy type, and he's the more poetic, nerdy type who likes comic books and Moby Dick (I love how going through his backpack leans on the fourth wall about how deprived Thorn must be, not to have grown up with comics).
And, in addition to all this, in another storytelling sleight of hand (that we'll go in depth on at the end) we get MORE world building info with the suggestion that the Red Dragon doesn't even want people to know he exists, as well as the examination of the scrawly map from chapter 1. To the first, we now know that the dragon isn't all powerful -- nor is he completely nice to Fone. As for the map ... well, I try to stick to hard knowledge that we have chapter to chapter in these recaps so let's just say that Thorn's reaction clues us to complex plots much further in.

MEETING GRAN'MA
I love the introduction of Gran'ma. Right now, she's the epitome of "cool old lady", and more than a match for Phoney Bone. This also handily belies the reveals to come but, again, let's just see what the story has to say for us. Right now, there's more than enough slapstick action and unconventional reunions in the second half of the chapter to keep us engaged and hoping to see what's next.

THIS CHAPTER'S TAKEAWAY
Each of the major sequences in this chapter -- Thorn and Fone; Phoney grumbling through the woods; meeting Gran'ma -- has a huge amount of exposition to get across, especially regarding world building as mentioned above but also the new characters. So the way that the narrative does this without boring the reader with an information dump (infodump) is to focus the characters on a chain of otherwise mundane tasks and subdued but character-centred conversations.

This lets the story transition between dropping hints to what is to come, cluing deeper character traits and progressing them towards new resolutions -- whether it's how affectionately Thorn refers to her Gran during the morning's housework (indicating their family relationship), moving right into Fone sharing his favourite book (allowing for more about Thorn herself), or just Phoney disliking everything and everyone.

The take away for this week is how to use concurrent actions and double or triple-layered discussion scenes to keep the story moving, the reader engaged and foreshadowing what's to come, all at once.

Next week: Kingdok!


P.S. 2.
Following my next-to-complete reconciliation with the time jump I mentioned in last week's postscript, I was reminded in this issue why the jump irked me so much. It's not a big thing, but man is it harder to believe this time that Phoney, as helpless as he evidently is, could have been grumping around all winter without his cousins to help him survive the cold (and even find food!). Sure, we know that this isn't some accidental oversight because Ted the bug references the long winter in the very same scene.

So in the end, I have to admit it's an *unimportant* inconsistency that it seems Mr Smith chose to leapfrog for the sake of humour and pacing. Maybe one day I can come to terms with it myself!

Bone Reread: Out from Boneville Chapter 2

SO FAR ...

Fone Bone has been trapped in the Valley for the winter after being separated from his cousins, and now strange forces, both benevolent (Red Dragon) and bad (Rat Creatures), know that he's here.

VISUALS
In the Scholastic publication, there are a pair of wordless interstitial pictures between chapters 1 and 2 that show Fone Bone building a shelter and then meeting some friendly locals. That is all, I just wanted to point them out.

On specific characters, Mrs Possum has a very precise air of forthright motherliness and humility in her facial expressions that makes me think of Mrs Weasley from Harry Potter. This is the strength of Jeff Smith's caricatured style, and I have no idea how he does it.

On a bigger scale, the forest has changed quite a bit since the snow fell. This is perhaps best in the coloured version, but even in the black and white line version of the comic the environment is starkly different when covered with snow and lacking in bushes and leaves. There is a very good reason why this works, which brings us to ...

REPETITION AND REINFORCING THE STORY
The main take-away in Chapter 2, for me, was how the story uses both the rat creatures and the Red Dragon again, in much the same way as they were used in the first chapter. The rat creatures are once again stupid, but still a threat, and the Red Dragon is still a watcher and a protector. But this repetition works because the story's scope is expanding. The locations are different, and the reuse of these characters continues to give us new information.

For example: meeting the Red Dragon the second time, we learn that he protects more than just Fone Bone. And the rat creatures' chase of Fone Bone through the woods and over the waterfall makes the area seem more expansive and complex, setting up the wide, twisting paths of the forest for more confrontations down the line. So, not only is the potential negative of repeating these ideas mostly averted by using them to expand the world of the story, they also help to reinforce the peril and mystery that will become even more important later on.

TEASING A NEW MOTIVATION
After we learn that the others disbelieve the very existence of the Dragon, Fone Bone is tired, grumpy and a little singed, leading to an idle musing that (were he able to leave the Valley right now) he would leave, even without his cousins. This rash and unthoughtful decision dovetails right into his meeting with Thorn, who has been implied by Ted to be everything Fone Bone could hope for: including a way home. This also introduces a more racy element to the comic, since Fone is clearly smitten by Thorn ... more on this below.

Now we begin to see the true colours (or shades of black, if you're reading the original) of Bone: epic fantasy, with cartoon creatures thrown in. As they're introduced, we will discover -- contrary to the talking animals and Bone cousins being comic relief -- that for the human characters, the events that are coming to pass are no laughing matter. But this is all in the chapters ahead. For the end of Chapter 2, Fone Bone is so enchanted by meeting Thorn that he doesn't care about Boneville.

By now, the driving motivation we have associated with Fone Bone (and the basis of our following his adventures until now) has been his wish to find his cousins and return to Boneville. While this will continue to be brought up in the chapters to come, it is essential to note how even his motivation has expanded and changed with Chapter 2. Now, the newest character Thorn has become as important or even more important to Fone than returning home. And as the story progresses, we will see why we the audience should also see Thorn as important ...

Until next week, happy reading Bone!


P.S.
I always felt a little awkward reading that at least two months had passed between the end of Chapter 1 and the beginning of Chapter 2. If I were writing the story I would have wanted to wring the drama out of the cousins' separation for such a long time -- and really, the length of time once they finally reunite in the actual comic is mostly so unimportant that it seemed arbitrary.

However, on re-evaluating it, for the simple reason that the comic ISN'T supposed to be a drama (it's supposed to be fun and adventure) as well as the logistical problems raised if you tried to tell the remaining story during the cold of winter rather than the warmer months, I think the choice of time-jump makes sense. And upon this particular re-read, it didn't bother me very much anyway.