Wednesday, December 19, 2018

Compelling Entertainment: Diction (part two)

Last post, I wrote about Diction. I defined it and explained why the element is so important to compelling entertainment. Quite simply, Diction is the language of art. It’s purpose is to grant an audience full access into creator’s thoughts and feelings. This goes beyond simply listing information and having proper grammar. While grammar rules are important, voice makes a work complete. Voice let’s an audience experience what a creator wants an audience to experience. Thus, here are the questions I ask as to whether an artist accomplishes great Diction. 


Does the artist’s voice remain consistent throughout the work? Ultimately, voice done well carries the personality of a creator, or the connotations the creator wants to convey. He or she does this by making particular choices. In a movie, it could be shot angles and cut transitions. In literature, it might be perspective, format, and word choice. Either can be quirky or gritty, or anywhere in between. Whatever choice artists make, it should be consistent. For instance, if one chooses to break a grammar rule, it should be broken in all cases… (That can be a cop out when one doesn’t know the rule). But more importantly, how words are said, how events are structured should have a voice that seems as if it is told by the same person. Or, if there are perspective changes, each perspective should sound as if it is coming from the same person. This is not to be confused with tone--I will address that when I talk about the Music element. Part of the disconnect people have with The Last Jedi was that it was clearly was told with a different voice than The Force Awakens. That bothered some. Some didn’t mind. Regardless of their flaws, both the original trilogy and prequels held a consistent voice. Love them or hate them, groups are mostly unified with their opinions of those series as a whole. Ultimately, they are different movies, but an inconsistent voice within a single work is even more jarring--*cough *cough Suicide Squad or The Justice League. 

Does the work show instead of tell? When done well, Diction allows an audience to feel as if they are part of the story. So, for instance, if a writer wanted an audience to know a character is angry, they could just say, “He was angry.” Or a movie could have the character say, “I’m angry.” But, this doesn’t let us feel the complex range of emotions. People act differently when they’re angry, and act differently depending on how angry they are. In addition, telling insults the intelligence of the audience. If a character is acting like a jerk, I don’t need the writer to tell me the character is a jerk. 

Does the work use the right connotations to evoke the subtle meanings of each scene? Concerning anger, if the writer wanted suggest a character was mad, what subtle details would illustrate that. And, what details would best show the level of a character’s anger. Dropped brow? A clenched fist? Punching a wall? If a character punched a wall, I could tell he was angry. But, the scene might not call for that. Being visual, movies can more easily do this subtly, but great writing conveys the levels of emotion. Subtle emotional cues are rather difficult to master. If someone is reservedly anger, how do you convey that? Often considered the best at subtle emotional cues, Hemingway mastered the the art of underlying meaning. (Sometimes as a lazy reader I have even missed his subtleties.) At the end of The Sun Also Rises the two characters have a brilliant, yet subtle banter, straining yet not saying what they’d love for their relationship because they believe it is not possible. 

Does the work over explain what is obvious? When a writer blathers on and on over every minute detail, it pulls focus. Especially, when it’s events are clear from the context. These words or scenes simply need to be cut.

Does the work need to make information clearer? I love being a bit in the dark, but at times things need to be explained. Of course, exposition should feel natural and necessary. Yet, if I’m at a point where I should know something but don’t, then something is wrong. Perhaps, the explanation was too vague. Or, maybe it was buried in the midst of the drawn out passages that I skipped. Or, maybe I’m not that smart… Either way, there was a break down. An artist must know his or her audience in such cases.

Is focus rightly shed on the right subject or action? Storytelling should offer what is important to move the story forward (apart from the properly applied red-herring or subplot). And sentences are best constructed when they draw focus to the most crucial subject or action. This is why I often sit, staring at one lone sentence. Trying to pick at it. Desperate to pull minds where I want them. Similarly, movies should draw attention to that which is most crucial in any given scene, whether by angle, zoom, focus, or cut. For example, unfocused jump cuts kill an audience’s focus. They can work, if a director wants the audience confused, but so often there simply used because it’s a cheaper way to film action scenes. But, action scenes should grab our focus. We want to soak in all the destructive glory. We want to know who’s winning the fight, and who’s losing. Comparing the action scenes from The Matrix and Transformers is like comparing prime rib and spam. 

Is a work bogged down with modifiers? Stephen King said, “The road to hell is paved with adverbs.” The major problem with modifiers is that they tell, not show. I wouldn’t go as far as say someone should never use adverbs or adjectives, but so often writers use them poorly. For instance, I could say a bridge is small, but that does nothing to get an audience to visualize it. What makes it small? How important is it that an audience knows it’s small? With all modifiers, I gauge their level of importance. If an audience doesn't need to know the info, cut them out. If it’s somewhat important, it’s fine. If the information is crucial, the meaning should be given a higher priority than a modifier. If a group of clans is about to clash on that bridge, the audience is going to need more information about it. In addition, a great way to give more power to modifiers is by adding metaphors, similes, comparisons, and hyperbolas. How small is that bridge? As small as my grandma's kitchen table? I don’t know. Sure, sometimes metaphorical language can come off as pretentious overwriting or corny, but when done right, it has power to evoke a writer’s exact shade of meaning. 

Are there any clichés? A good rule--though not a line-in-the-sand rule--of something to avoid when writing. Overuse a phrase and its power dies. I get that. But, when do they become overused? Is it never ok to use a common expression? This is quite subjective. I mean clichés become cliché because they describe something so perfectly. I guess, I judge them according to how they’re used and how often they’re used. It’s a good exercise for an artist to force themselves to come up with their own expressions first. If all else fails, and the expression is perfect…Go ahead...Use it. If every other element is good enough, people won’t care. For instance, I was surprised that I found as many common expressions in the Hunger Games as there were. But, they only somewhat distracted me, because I’m a critical jerk. 
 
That’s it for Diction… On to Music.

No comments:

Post a Comment