Spider-Man, Ocean's 8, and the Struggle of the Protagonist

So, for #LightTheWorld last week, I did in fact end up giving platelets. And, when I give platelets, I get to watch a movie.

This week it was Ocean's 8. A heist movie. I finally saw it. Took me long enough, considering I love heist movies, but I had been warned that this one wasn't that great. Not bad, just not great.

The warnings were correct. When I left the movie, I just felt, meh.

I, being who I am, started analyzing why. The actors did a great job and were well-cast, I thought, on the whole. The plot itself was interesting enough, although I felt like the twist at the end wasn't as well set-up as it should have been. But then I realized something:

The movie had no conflict.

Seriously. No conflict. Or, at least, none that mattered. Sure, I get that the whole plot was for revenge and lots of money, and there were some tense moments. But I didn't see any inter-character conflict, or major problems with the scheme, that would force the characters to change or grow in any way. The characters were the same at the beginning and the end, and they didn't seem to learn or improve in any way. They didn't overcome.

I watched a film about a bunch of intelligent, professional women pull off a perfectly planned heist with no major hiccups, and then leave. So why should I care about any of that? Where's the struggle, the growth? The ending was pretty much the beginning but with more money.

Fast-forward to Friday night when I saw Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse.

In a word, this movie is amazing. Absolutely stunning. The animation style is used well and fits the tone of the movie, writing is hilarious, and they strike a good balance between serious and silly (I swear I'll get to that post someday). But most importantly, the characters struggle.

So many characters have character arcs, to start. Miles does, for sure, as the main character (something Sandra Bullock's Debbie Ocean doesn't seem to), but so do two other Spider-people in the group, and Mile's dad, and his uncle, and while the villain doesn't have an arc, he does have motivations that make sense and humanize him. The motivations, and these arcs, are shown through them all struggling and dealing with matters that they're not already equipped to handle. I watched this movie rooting for the characters (villain excepted) and really feeling it when they fall, but loving it even more when, understanding their struggles, I see them get up again. There was a point to the movie, and to their challenges. Guys, this film was a tightly-written heart-filled blast of a superhero movie and you should all go see it. (And stay for the end credits scene.)

But, the point of both of these reviews is that I thought about what it means to have a protagonist in your story.

A "protagonist" is "the one who struggles." Without that struggle, the story doesn't matter much. If a character can easily get what they want, there's no story. In Ocean's 8, the fact that the diamonds are so difficult to get gives it a little more interest, but when the plot goes so smoothly, I'm left feeling unfulfilled. I wanted to see them overcome.

 In Spider-Man, I saw that. Again and again. A major theme of the plot was what it means to struggle and overcome. And that left me feeling a lot more fulfilled. I left the movie satisfied and wanting to see it again, whereas I didn't really care one way or the other with Ocean's 8.

The protagonist needs to struggle. I would even go so far as to say a story is only as good as a protagonist's struggle. I can't root for someone who doesn't have the possibility of failure; they don't need a cheerleader. I need stories where the heroes face odds that are daunting and because of that challenge, have to change and grow and rise to face it and overcome it.

Because that's what stories are really about: characters. How they develop, and meet challenges. Without that struggle, I really hope the character found twenty dollars, because the rest of the story seems somewhat moot.

So, this is likely going to be my last post for a few weeks. I'll be out of town and away from the internet next Monday, and after that, it's still the holiday, so, we'll see.

And, this coming week for #LightTheWorld is Light Your Family. I don't know exactly what I'll do for this one, but considering that I'm going to see a lot of my family this week, I'll figure something out, and tell you about it when I get back to posting.

Happy holidays, everyone!

Heist Stories!

I'M BAAAAACK!

Two weeks of time off, and it's over. In all fairness, I could have come back and blogged last Monday, but I got hit hard with a bad cold, and last Monday it had a thriving business in my chest and throat and was opening a franchise in my nose, so all I wanted to do was sleep it off. Now, a week later, my voice is (mostly) back and so is my motivation.

Like I said, it was bad.

The social media fast was good. I learned that I can be super-productive when I'm not on social media, and I also learned that while Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and other social media sites let you turn off notifications to your phone, Facebook not only doesn't allow you to fully turn them off, but also totally ignores your input on the ones you DID turn off.

Darn it, Facebook.

Anyway, today I want to talk about heist stories.

I don't think it's any surprise to you that I

Love

Heist stories.

On a related note, I saw Solo over the social media fast (the new Star Wars movie) and I really liked it. I was hoping for thieves in space, which was exactly what I got. It was fun and exciting and a blast to watch. I don't know why it did so badly in theaters.

I was talking about this with a friend and she said she actually liked Solo better than Ocean's 8, another heist movie. I asked why, and she said Ocean's 8 was too straight-forward. There wasn't a moment when the heroes seemed to have lost, like in Ocean's 11 or in many, many episodes of Leverage.

That got me thinking about heist stories and what we love about them. Sure, there's the element of the "bad boy" hero - the thief that we're supposed to root for, and that's a fun twist. But if that were all, then we'd be okay with something like Ocean's 8 or a simple back robbery story. We'd see thieves winning, and that would be enough.

But it's not.

There's something about a heist story that makes it different than a subverted hero trope, or even an action/adventure story. I've been thinking about it, and this is what I have decided.

The most important part of a good heist story is two powerful minds at war with each other.

It's a game of freaking chess, but with laser grids and motion sensors. And oddly enough, considering how many people might not care to watch a game of chess, that mental game is the draw.

Heist stories are all about outsmarting each other. We're not happy, as an audience, unless we see someone win through brains and planning, not by getting off a cheap escape or by pulling a gun. (By the way, I often see pulling a gun as proof that the gun-toter has lost the game.)

Player 1 has something valuable. So, Player 1 sets up the best protection they can to protect this valuable thing. No matter when the story takes place, this is always true. This can be walls, devices, guards, bribery, etc. The stronger the fortifications, the more hopeless the task to steal this, the better.

Player 2 (or "players" 2, in the case of a team) wants to get the thing, but they plan to do it in a sneaky, clever way. They have to think past all the protective walls and guards and policies to get what they want. We sit and watch them work against impossible odds, wondering how they'll do it.

But Player 1 didn't just vanish after the first play. Oh, no. They're still there, ready to counter any move they see Player 2 making. And in the best stories, they do. And Player 2 counters, and plans.

In my opinion, the best heist stories are the ones you can't see the end of. You don't know who is going to win: the mark or the thief. Even though you know who the heroes are, you don't know if they'll actually pull this off and get away with it. Even better, at the end, you actually think they lost.

But then they pull off one last sleight of hand, one last plan that proves that they were the smartest player after all. It doesn't come down to a car chase or shoot-off; it comes down to that last chessboard play when the thief knocks down the king for good, and there's nothing Player 1 can do about it.

(On a related note, I saw a stage production of The Scarlet Pimpernel this weekend as well; that's one heck of a great heist story, if set in Revolutionary France and with a very heroic "thief.")

We like the puzzle and cleverness of a heist story. We want to see how the thieves will outwit the mark. They can't just win; they have to win with style. And when that happens, and we were duped and surprised just like the mark, by the people we've been rooting for the whole story, we are delighted by it. A heist story isn't just a robbery; it's checkmate.

And it's so, so satisfying.