I recently consulted with a screenwriter who complained when I told him his screenplay lacked credibility. “Movies aren’t ever real,” he argued. “Is it believable that toys could talk in Toy Story, or that a guy could travel back in time in 12 Monkeys? Is it even believable that Bruce Willis could stop all those bad guys in the Die Hard movies?!”

My answer to him was YES IT IS. And in this article I want to talk about why the audience believes these unbelievable stories, and what “credibility” really means in the make-believe world of movies.

EVERY MOVIE OR NOVEL IS A FANTASY
Every movie or novel begins with a “What If?” situation that is unbelievable in real life:
• What if it were possible to invade another person’s dreams in order to steal, or even to create, that person’s thoughts? (Inception)

• What if an iron-fisted book editor and her assistant had to convince both his family and the INS that they were engaged, so that she could avoid deportation? (The Proposal)

• What if a young American boy in Beijing were terrorized by local bullies, and had to learn Kung Fu from a reclusive handyman? (The Karate Kid)

Even books and movies that seem grounded in reality, or that are actually based on true stories, abide by this principle. These stories examine what happens when everyday people are thrust into an out-of-the-ordinary, bigger than life situation:

• What if a good-hearted, politically liberal nun became involved with a gruesome killer on death row, and in fighting for his sentence to be commuted, had to resolve her own conflict over his hateful nature, and over her sympathy with his victims’ families? (Dead Man Walking)

• What if a blogger declared she would cook every single dish in Julia Child’s The Art of French Cooking in a single year? (Julie and Julia)

It is the fantasy element of each of these stories that draws the audience into the theater. No one really wants to see a movie or read a novel that is truly realistic, unless those stories make us realize that everyday life is as extraordinary as fiction.

FICTION IS FALSE ON THE SURFACE BUT TRUE UNDERNEATH
Real life, conversely, is believable on the surface but unbelievable underneath. Here’s what I mean:

If I said it had taken me a long time to write this column because I had been abducted by aliens and was trapped in their space ship for a month, you’d probably assume you had picked up the Martian Connection Newsletter by mistake. But if I told you I just read a movie about a guy who claimed he was abducted by aliens and had to convince the world that an attack was imminent, you’d simply wonder when it opened at your local megaplex. In other words, you would readily accept that a movie story would be unbelievable in real life.

On the other hand, if I said I was delayed because I was involved in a horrible incident where a stranger, for no apparent reason, came into a supermarket, pulled out an automatic weapon and began shooting at everyone before finally killing himself, you might think it horrible, but you wouldn’t find it impossible to believe. But if I said I had a screenplay where the hero does this, and in the end we still don’t know what his motive was, you’d rightly tell me that I’d have a hard time selling it.

This is because in novels and movies, we need to know the inner truths for the characters. Their actions in response to whatever incredible situation you’ve created must be reasonable, justified and believable.

ONLY ONE FANTASY TO A CUSTOMER
It isn’t the fantasy element of a story that is interesting, exciting, romantic or funny. It’s the reaction of the everyday world to that fantastic situation. Therefore you are only allowed to introduce that single incredible element into your story; everything else must be logical and believable.

Big, for example, is a fantasy about a 12-year old boy that makes a wish and wakes up with the body of a thirty-year old man. I hope I’m not spoiling anything by telling you this couldn’t happen in real life.

But think about everything that happens to Josh (the Tom Hanks character) after he’s transformed. He runs away from home, finds a job and a place to stay, falls in love with a woman who thinks he really is thirty years old, and must eventually decide whether or not to go back to his old life. In other words, every single conflict he faces is logical, believable, and grounded in reality. The movie explores what might really happen after the fantasy situation occurred.

Now imagine the same movie if, when he got big, Josh entered a world where his best friend had the power to disappear, his girl friend could travel through time, and everyone could read minds as they battled the dinosaurs that roamed the earth. Such a movie would hold little interest (except for some dazzling special effects) because the story would lack any reality or believability at all.

One of the reasons such a broadly fantastic scenario would fail to capture the emotion of the audience is that the conflict would become meaningless. In Hollywood movies, it is the hero’s compelling desire that drives the story forward. But it’s the conflict the hero faces that elicits the emotion in the reader and audience. When the powers of the hero or the other characters become limitless, there’s nothing difficult to overcome, and the reader feels no real tension, worry or fear. She simply observes the action, rather than becoming a part of it.

Introducing more than one unbelievable situation or action into your story also eliminates the possibility of any real depth to the characters, or to the theme of your script or manuscript. Fiction allows us to look at ourselves by putting our desires, beliefs and feelings within bigger-than-life situations, in order to reveal the deeper aspects of our human nature. If the characters you portray do not behave in any recognizable way, the reader feels no emotional connection to them, and has no opportunity for self-examination, enlightenment or catharsis.

This is why the writer I mentioned at the beginning of this article was mistaken. His screenplay was about an everyday accountant who got recruited to infiltrate a drug cartel in South America. This premise had a single fantasy element that can make the script interesting and exciting. So far, so good.

But within the script, there was a scene where this C.P.A. used karate to disarm a dozen bad guys, another where he casually drove through gunfire without showing any concern at all, and another where he pursued a woman in spite of the fact that she was married to a drug lord. None of these actions were consistent with the character the writer had created.

THE KEY METHODS OF MAINTAINING CREDIBILITY
So given all these strict parameters to the fantasy elements of a novel or film, how do you insure that your story remains believable?

1. With each scene in your story, ask yourself, “Do my characters behave the way people with their backgrounds would normally behave in this situation?” Is this their most logical response to the danger they’re in, to the desire they’re pursuing, or to the actions of the other characters?

If you’re in doubt, ask yourself, “Is this what I would do if I were in this situation?” If you were in danger, wouldn’t you try to escape or get help? Would you continue in a relationship if you realized the person might be a liar, an impostor or a killer? Would you be likely to forget about an object, a message or a clue that was obviously vitally important to the conflict you’re facing? Would you go on about your daily life as if nothing unusual was occurring, even though you’ve been plunged into an overwhelming crisis?

2. Don’t confuse credibility with documented reality. One of the weakest arguments you can make in support of your characters’ actions is, “But that really did happen.”

Lots of unusual things happen in real life, and people often behave in strange ways. But in your novel or screenplay, even if you’re portraying real events, the characters’ actions must seem logical, and the events believable, within the context of the story.

3. Foreshadow the characters’ actions and abilities. If you want your hero to use karate in a fight with the villain, reveal her martial arts talents before it’s important to the plot. Describe her practicing in the dojo early in the story, when it doesn’t seem important. That way, when it counts, your reader will subconsciously say, “Oh, that’s right. This everyday school teacher has been learning karate.”

Foreshadowing persuades your reader and audience to accept an action that in normal life might seem unbelievable. For example, in The Net, we are asked to believe that a woman would be unable to find anyone who could verify her identity, including her own mother. So early in the film, we see that she is a reclusive, self-employed computer hacker who never leaves her home, and whose mother suffers from dementia.

4. Openly admit the incredibility of a character’s behavior. If, against all logic, your hero pursues a lover who might be a hit man, have her best friend say to her, “Are you nuts? This guy could be a cold-blooded killer!” Then your hero can explain her actions in a way that is consistent with the personality and background you’ve given her. Subconsciously you’re telling the reader, “Look, I know this seems unbelievable, but let me tell you why it isn’t.”

5. If you’re a screenwriter, dazzle the audience with pyrotechnics. This is definitely the last resort solution to the problem of movie credibility. But if you keep the setting big and spectacular, and keep the action fast enough and loud enough, the audience might not notice the lapses in logic. I don’t really recommend this approach, but I can’t deny that there are very successful films (Iron Man 2 and Sherlock Holmes come to mind), which are way over the top in terms of reality, logic, and limits to the characters’ abilities, yet still, make a bundle of money.

People go to the movies for emotion, and if the visuals are captivating enough, if the action moves fast enough, or if the humor is hilarious enough, audiences will sometimes forego the pleasure of a tightly written plot with identifiable characters. Just be aware that you’re treading on dangerous ground here, because such movies often require a huge budget. More important, in order to sell your script, you’ve got to get past a multitude of readers who don’t have the benefit of seeing all your intended fireworks.
No matter how big and exciting movies and novels can be, the best ones plunge everyday characters into extraordinary situations without ever losing the reality of their humanity.

- Michael Hauge