Hello, My Name Is...
On great character introductions
Over the weekend I saw Steven Soderbergh’s new film, The Christophers. It’s a great example of efficiently setting up the main character’s personality, obstacles, and goals.
In the first scene, we meet a young woman (the splendid Michaela Coel) on a bench somewhere in London, having a snack, when her cell phone rings. She answers: “Lori Butler Restorations” and immediately we know her name and her vocation. We only hear Lori’s side of the conversation, but someone clearly wants to her for a job and she agrees to meet them at a pub to discuss the details that afternoon. The call ends and the camera pulls back to reveal a line of food trucks. Immediately we get another piece of delicious information as Lori hangs up and jogs over to the nearest truck, where a man stands waiting to order. Lori apologizes steps behind the counter, and takes his order. So much information, so quickly!
There’s nothing quite as satisfying to watch as a great character introduction. When I teach screenwriting, I regularly show these three: Warren Schmidt in Alexander Payne’s About Schmidt; the title character in Steven Soderbergh’s film Erin Brokovich, written by Savannah Grant; and May-Alice Culhane in John Sayles’ Oscar-nominated Passion Fish. Each of these introductions provide basic story information, but also ask us to consider what each character will need to learn, or how they will need to change by the end of the journey. Check them out.
In Schmidt, we’re meeting Warren on his last day at work before retirement, made clear by the stacked cardboard boxes in his empty office and his last glance as he departs, but we’re also introduced to the dull, monochromatic, grey world of Omaha, Nebraska. It’s remarkable how the main character says absolutely nothing for a really long time, but he’s spoken about at length. Exposition is never easy, but Payne manages to make what is said both funny and informative. We learn so much about Warren in a matter of minutes, most importantly at the end of Len Cariou’s drunken tribute as he poses the central question at the heart of the story: How do we measure the value of our lives?
We meet Erin Brockovich at a job interview. In general, I dislike questions being asked by one character to another in a script (I’ll save that for another post), but here it makes sense. Of course questions are being asked; it’s a job interview, after all. What I love about Julia Roberts’ performance and Grant’s writing is that it’s filled with information we need to know about Erin, but it’s organic to the story and reveals her most essential character trait: Erin Brockvich tells the truth. We’re cringing because she refuses to edit her story to make herself look better, and yet she’s trying every tactic she can think of to get the doctor to hire her — convince him that she’s qualified to do what he needs her to do, despite her inexperience; impress him with her curiosity and desire to learn; and, finally, to flatter him with compliments about his office. And that’s not even taking into consideration her wardrobe choice for the interview! In this very first scene, her integrity costs her a job; later, it is what makes her a hero.
Finally, John Sayles’ film, Passion Fish, starring Mary McDonnell as a Soap opera actress who wakes up paralyzed in a hospital after being run over by a taxi in New York City. Sayles writes May-Alice as self-centered, brusk, and vain; McDonnell expertly reveals the fear and panic underneath it all. It’s a tragic scene in terms of what has happened to the character, but it’s also very funny. “That’s my close-up,” May-Alice grumbles, watching her soap on the hospital TV as the camera moves to the smiling face of her co-star (yes, that’s Angela Bassett). Immediately, we understand the story’s dramatic question: Will May-Alice act again? And, more importantly, will she overcome her selfishness. Spoiler alert: She does.
What’s your favorite introduction of a main character in a movie?