I don’t know about you. But one of the most frustrating things FOR ME coming up as a writer, eager to figure out this whole screenwriting thing, was understanding what agents and executives meant when they’d tell me my characters weren’t “three-dimensional.”
Some of the many ways I’d hear the criticism was that my characters were “flat,” or “uninspired,” or “bland,” or “forgettable.” But it would often come back to that common phrase, “They weren’t three-dimensional.”
So, when I got this criticism, I did what any determined aspiring screenwriter would do. I did an internet search for three-dimensional characters! What I got back was not good. In fact, if I could give any criticism to these results, it would be that they weren’t three-dimensional enough.
As the years passed, I would get little pieces here and there about what created “depth” in a character. But I never got anything concrete – something I could incorporate into my characters *right now.*
Once I started reading screenplays, though, that changed. When you encounter 20,000 characters a year, you begin to see patterns in the ones that are good whether you want to or not.
Over time, I piecemealed together a vague method for creating characters with depth. But just like anything in screenwriting, you focus on it for a while, then you get distracted by something else (“Ooh, different ways to create conflict in scenes!”). You become obsessed with that other thing. You sort of forget the things you figured out with character depth and don’t recover the information again until months later watching some late night movie on Netflix.
This happened to me recently when I went to Alien: Romulus. I liked what they were doing with the characters in the first act so, like any good screenwriting analyst, I paid attention to WHY I felt that way. I wanted to know the specific reasons why the characters were working for me.
It was in this analysis that I had one of those “ah-ha” moments in screenwriting.
In a heartbeat, I knew EXACTLY what was required to write a three-dimensional character. And I’m going to share it with you now.
But before I can explain the ah-ha moment, I must first explain how to write a two-dimensional character. A two-dimensional character consists of… you guessed it… two dimensions. One, what they say. And two, what they do. As long as you have a character saying and doing things, you’ve created a two-dimensional character.
You can actually go far with this. I might argue that, if you do this well, you could add another half-dimension (giving you 2 and a HALF dimensions). That’s because what a character DOES has a major influence on the reader.
Think about Civil War. The very act of those photographers traveling deep into war-torn America to do their job tells you something about them. That they’re strong. That they’re brave. Those are things that factor into how we judge a character’s depth. That’s why they say screenwriting is a show-don’t-tell medium. The most effective way to have us connect with the characters and root for the characters is through action.
Okay, that’s all well and good, Carson. But what about that elusive THIRD dimension? How do we get there?
What Alien Romulus taught me was that the secret to the third dimension is everything YOU CANNOT SEE about your character. It is…
THE PAST
THE FUTURE
THE WITHIN
With Rain, the two biggest things about her are her past (she lost her father) and the future (she’s desperate to get to a planet that has sunlight). Unfortunately, the character didn’t have much going on within, which is why she fell short of becoming a truly memorable character. But that’s, ironically, what completed the lesson for me. Cause I asked myself, “She’s got a past that makes me care. She’s got a future goal that makes me care. Why am I not head over heels about this character, like I was Ripley?” The reason was, she had a weak “within.” No real flaw.
So, let’s look at these three things we “cannot see” more deeply.
THE PAST
We’ll start with the past. The tricky thing about the past is that it’s backstory. And most screenwriting professors will tell you that backstory doesn’t matter. All that matters is what the reader can see. And they can only see the present. So focus on that.
That’s true. But your character lived an entire life. To pretend like that doesn’t affect how your character is acting in your movie is ridiculous. If your character has been in an abusive relationship for the past five years, then got out of it, and now your movie starts, it would be foolish not to write that character in a way where that abuse doesn’t affect their personality and the way they deal with others.
The tricky part with the past is giving the reader the relevant details about that past without stopping the story.
Luke Skywalker, for example, doesn’t wait for a silence and then say, “Hey everyone, by the way, I used to be a pilot. Did you know that?” Instead, he’s in an argument with Han Solo about the price of smuggling them off the planet and, when pressed, he lets Han know, “Yeah, I’m not such a bad pilot myself.” Because that information is given in the heat of the moment, we don’t notice it. We don’t label it as: SCREENWRITER JUST PROVIDED BACKSTORY.
That “invisible” delivery method is essential when informing the reader about the past.
THE FUTURE
Let’s move on to the future. Because this is the part of the third dimension that gets the least love. And I think it’s super important. Basically, the future is what your character wants out of life beyond this movie. It could be as simple as wanting to buy a home on the beach of Zihuatanejo, Mexico. It could be finding the love of your life. It could be a three-picture deal at Paramount (do they still give those out?).
If you want to truly know someone, ask them what their big dream is. What do they want out of life more than anything? That answer will tell you SO MUCH about a person. It’s no different with your characters. Figure out what they want beyond this movie, drop that information somewhere in your script, and you’re a third of the way there to creating that third dimension.
THE WITHIN
The final piece of the puzzle is the WITHIN. I call it the “within” because it can either be a flaw or a conflict. But it must be something going on WITHIN your character. It’s something we cannot physically see.
I’ll give you a great place to study the WITHIN. Reality TV. What reality TV does now is focus heavily on character flaws. If you pop in an episode of 90 Day Fiance, which has five couples, so 10 characters total, every single time they cut to one of those storylines, the show will start hitting on each of those characters’ fatal flaws.
For example, one character has trust issues. No matter what happens, they can’t trust their partner. Another has control issues. They have to control everything. Another has jealousy issues. Another has anxiety stemming from trauma. Another is stubborn. Another is blindly optimistic. Another is codependent. Another has zero self-confidence. Every episode is about those characters battling those specific issues.
Screenplays are no different. You figure out what your character’s inner weakness is – the thing holding them back from being whole, from being happy – and you repeatedly put them in situations where that weakness is tested. If their weakness is that they’re stubborn, you put them in a bunch of situations where they have the opportunity to compromise. And, since it’s a movie, they will fail that test every single time until the end.
And that’s pretty much it.
Make those first two dimensions as good as you can make them. Make sure the things they say are entertaining. And make sure they’re active as heck (they’re DOING things).
Then, with that third dimension, give us the relevant things about their past. Tell us what they desire most in their future. And finally, identify that thing within them that’s unsettled. Their flaw. Their inner conflict. Whatever you want to call it. Then test it over and over again.
If you do all those things well, you will have a three-dimensional character.
:)
