Three Act Structure
The 3-act structure is a very old maxim widely
adhered to in storytelling and fiction writing today. It can be found in plays, poetry, novels, comic books, short
stories, video games, and the movies. It was present in the novels of Conan Doyle, the plays of Shakespeare, the
fables of Aesop, the poetry of Aristotle, and the films of Hitchcock. It’s older than Greek dramaturgy. Hollywood
and Broadway use it well. It’s irrefutable and bullet-proof, so to speak.
Though quite simple, the 3-act structure has
proven to be a valuable weapon in the arsenal of any screenwriter. Yes, there are alternatives to telling a story.
But the 3-act structure is a highly accepted and greatly successful method. Any alternative will cause shock and,
quite possibly, disappointment.
The 3 acts are labeled as:
Act I: Setup
Act II: Confrontation
Act III: Resolution
Act I: The
Setup
The first act is where all the major characters of the story are introduced, plus the
world where they live in, and the conflict that will move the story forward. In Act I, the writer has the freedom
to create any setting and reality that he so wishes. It’s in the first pages of the script that he defines the
reasoning and logic of the story. This early in the script, anything is possible.
The story may happen in the distant future or
long time ago in a galaxy far far away. It may take place in downtown New York or in an African jungle. The first
act also establishes genre. It may be a drama about a widow that struggles to reencounter love, or a suspense about
a young trainee summoned out of the FBI academy in a special assignment to interview a dangerous
psychopath.
The writer may even distort reality or create
his own. Toy Story (1995) opens with a young boy, Andy, playing with his toys. As soon as Andy exits the bedroom,
leaving the place unsupervised, his toys promptly gain life. Yet we don’t frown or disapprove it. At the movie’s
very beginning, the audience has their mind open for practically anything. As the movie progresses, the viewer
unconsciously forms a frame for the story, and their suspension of disbelief narrows, limiting what they will
accept as plausible and congruent.
Ideally, your main character can never be lucky
further down in the script. But while the story is introduced, this gimmick is acceptable if done right. In Three
Days of the Condor (1975), CIA employee Joseph Turner (Robert Redford) survives a massacre that kills all of his
colleagues while he steps out of the office to get lunch. In Dances With Wolves (1991), Lieutenant John J. Dunbar
(Kevin Costner), learning that he must have his injured leg amputated, decides to commit suicide. He steals a
cavalry horse and runs it into the infantry of the Confederate army. In doing so, he incites his fellow Union
soldiers to rally, which leads to an unexpected victory. His plan fails, but he becomes a living
hero.
Act I must also present a strong hook – an
exciting scene early in the script that grabs the audience’s interest and hooks them. Steven Spielberg’s Raiders of
the Lost Ark (1981) starts with an action-packed, attention-grabbing sequence that introduces Indiana Jones
(Harrison Ford) performing acrobatic stunts while penetrating a cave and lost temples to find a valuable
artifact.
Part of that hook is the inciting incident that
takes place somewhere in the beginning of Act I. This inciting incident often provokes a change in the
protagonist’s routine – something new they experience that could either challenge or encourage them. In The Silence
of the Lambs (1991), FBI trainee Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) meets with the maleficent Dr. Hannibal Lecter
(Anthony Hopkins). The confrontation of both parties is nerve-wracking.
Act I ends with the first plot point of the
movie. In Thelma & Louise (1991), Plot Point I happens when Louise shoots dead a man who was on the verge of
raping Thelma. This action completely changes the course of the story . Thelma and Louise were hitherto just trying
to have some off-time away from their tedious lives. But when Thelma kills that guy, they become criminals.
Quickly, the police are brought into the picture. An investigation ensues.
Act II:
Confrontation
The second act is by far the longest, encompassing half of the movie and taking place
between the first and third acts. For some screenwriters, Act II is the hardest one to squeeze out. This happens
because after the initial boost of a new story, the writer is left without plot elements to introduce. The story,
its characters and conflict are all established. At this point, the writer has created a solid frame for his
narrative. Yet he’s still roughly sixty pages away from the ending.
With so many blank pages remaining, the writer
faces the challenge of keeping the story moving forward and not boring the audience. One device to accomplish this
feat is the elaboration of subplot. The subplot is a minor story layered under the main narrative. It often adds a
three-dimensionality aspect to the characters by allowing them to engage in a behavior that is not pertinent to the
main plot, but still relevant in the overall narrative and often connected to a central theme.
In Peter Weir’s Witness (1985), the main
storyline follows Philadelphia policeman John Book (Harrison Ford), as he investigates the assassination of a
fellow police officer. His only witness is an Amish boy (Lukas Haas), who saw the murder happen at a train station
restroom in the big city. When Officer Book discovers that someone from his own precinct ordered the killing, his
live is in danger, and, after being shot, he runs away to the Amish countryside of Lancaster. During the second act
of Witness, John Book and Amish widow Rachel Lapp (Kelly McGillis) engage in a brief courtship that fails to evolve
into a brazen affair. Also during Act II, Book befriends many members of the Amish community – an event that
foreshadows the resolution in Act III, when the community comes to Book’s rescue .
As epitomized in Witness, the second act may be
a moment in which the hero leaves his comfort zone, which fuels the writer with another set of possibilities. In
The Lion King (1994), after Mufasa dies, Simba runs away. Timon and Pumbaa save him from the desert, and Simba has
to live in the Jungle, eating bugs and beetles! During Act II in Toy Story, while Andy’s mom’s fills up, Woody
leaps out of the car in order to rescue Buzz. But before Woody can convince Buzz to climb in the car, Andy and his
mom take off, leaving Buzz and Woody stranded in the gas station. Before the movie’s resolution, the two toys find
themselves into an even worse setting – Sid’s creepy bedroom.
In the second act, the stakes escalate. If the
hero is “on the fence” or confused about what he should do, then something must happen by the midpoint of the
script to make his goal clear. In Thelma & Louise, the two protagonists realize that, with the police on their
tail, they cannot return home and live a normal life. They have to keep driving towards Mexico.
A pivotal element of this escalation inherent
to Act II is Plot Point II, which catapults the story into the third and final act. Much like Plot Point I, Plot
Point II also affects the main character by changing the direction he’s headed. The difference is that the stakes
are much higher. This is often a moment of crisis, in which all hope seems lost.
Act III:
Resolution
The last act, Act III presents the final confrontation of the movie, followed by the
dénouement. This act is usually the shortest in length because quickly after the second turning point of the
script, the main character is face to face with the villain or just about. Showdown ensues and then
conclusion.
In The Silence of the Lambs, the third act
commences when Agent Starling enters the house of Buffalo Bill (Ted Levine), the criminal who she’s been trying to
find. This moment is tension-packed because little does Starling know the identity of the man that’s welcoming her.
When Starling finally finds out, she’s inside the serial killer’s domain and unable to order
back-up.
As illustrated by The Silence of the Lambs, Act
III contains a moment often labeled as mandatory – the confrontation between hero and villain, the clash between
good and evil. In the moment that Clarice Starling walks into Buffalo Bill’s house, the writer fulfills a promise
made by him in the first act, when he set up those two opposing forces.
The audience is smart, so don’t underestimate
them. Whenever the writer establishes a prince, a princess, and a dragon, the audience will urge for a
confrontation in which the prince slays the dragon to rescue the princess. A different outcome will likely cause
frustration.
The third act is also when the writer ties up
any loose ends and offers a resolution to the subplots. In Witness, the third act takes off when the corrupt cops
find John Book hidden in the Amish community. The mandatory confrontation between the opposing forces takes place,
and then Book and Rachel meet. Both have to make a choice. Either Book stays to be with Rachel or Rachel leaves to
be with Book.
In the final moments of Orson Welles’ Citizen
Kane, the audience learns what “rosebud” means – a questions asked in the first act.
The resolution can also give extra information
for a more elaborate character arc. In Titanic (1997), after revealing what happened to the Heart of the Ocean, we
cut to Old Rose’ bedroom. The movement of the camera shows her nightstand with photos of adventures she did when
young – promises kept to Jack.
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