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May/June 2010 creativescreenwriting
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about is how great the charred mushroom
tastes and how it would taste even better if he
had some saffron, which leads him into the
old lady's kitchen. This little rat knows his
spices (admiration). And as Remy interacts
with humans throughout the film, we get a
sense of his modesty and shyness about his
talent, another admirable quality. With such a
deep emotional core, how can one not root
for this little rat to succeed?
Contrast this deep emotional connection
with an incomplete one in Flushed Away, in
which Roddy, a pampered rat who lives with
a rich family in Kensington, loves his life (who
wouldn't?), seems cocky and has everything.
When his owners are away on vacation, he
spends a whole day playing with toys to Billy
Idol's tune "Dancing With Myself," which re-
inforces the fact that he's kind of lonely. This
may be a bit too subtle in terms of pathos, but
let's give it to him. In the humanity and ad-
miration areas, however, we don't get any-
thing from the story. Even when Sid, the
uninvited guest from the sewers shows up,
Roddy is unwelcoming, trying selfishly to
send him back to the sewers instead of sharing
his toys. We're supposed to feel sorry for
Roddy when he is flushed down the toilet into
sewer city. His motivation to return home is
certainly worthy and resonates universally,
but because we don't have an emotional con-
nection to Roddy, we just don't care about the
rest of the film, despite all the interesting ad-
ventures and oftentimes funny humor.
Back to Ratatouille, when Remy is separated
from his clan, we relate to his struggle to sur-
vive in the big city. We also admire his desire
to cook once he reaches Gusteau's restaurant
and his willingness to help Linguini keep his
job and save his restaurant. All are worthy mo-
tivations that create high stakes, especially as
Remy tries to remain hidden from the hu-
mans, his survival being the highest stake
there is. This is rich storytelling. Contrast this
depth with the contrived and insincere story-
telling in Flushed Away, whose journey back
home is about pop culture references, visual
gags and ethnic humor -- though Roddy's
main motivation to return home is definitely
worthy and universally resonant. We can even
relate to his budding romance with Rita. But
the problem is that we just don't care about
Roddy due to a very low empathy level. This
flat emotional core certainly correlates with
Flushed Away's poor box office performance
and mixed reviews. Compare Ratatouille's
worldwide box office of $623 million and a
Metascore of 96 with Flushed Away's $178 mil-
lion and Metascore of 74.
And just to make sure this emotional core
factor holds up, let's compare two non-Pixar
films against each other, again featuring sim-
ilar characters -- this time penguins. How can
we not care about penguins? Let's look at the
Australian independent film, Happy Feet,
which won the Oscar for Best Animated Fea-
ture in 2007, had a Metascore of 83 and was a
box office success, earning $384 million
worldwide. Let's compare it with a similar
film, Surf's Up from Sony, which was a box of-
fice disappointment, with $149 million
worldwide and a Metascore of 63.
In Happy Feet, we are introduced to the
protagonist Mumble, who's not only born late
but also is unable to sing, a crucial need for
penguin mating (pathos). Mumble is one hell
of a tap dancer when he's happy (admiration),
but because "it ain't penguin," this immedi-
ately makes him an outcast in his community
(pathos again). This is done in a few different
ways: His parents think there's something
wrong with him; he makes a fool of himself
when he tries to sing in school, with his
teacher telling him that if he can't sing, he's
not a penguin.
Still, he's happy when he can be himself
and tap dance. Does this show his humanity
for a complete emotional core? You bet. As a
teenager, Mumble bonds with his friend Glo-
ria when he offers her a fish he caught and
fights hungry birds over it just to give it to her.
Adding to the emotional stakes is his motiva-
tion to survive predators after he accidentally
separates from his community and tries to be
accepted by another community of penguins.
And when he tries to find out who the aliens
are (humans) and why they are the cause of
the fish scarcity, his motives are unselfish and
worthy.
Conversely, Surf's Up profiles the odd but
unique concept of penguins who surf. They're
just as cute as the penguins in Happy Feet, so
what did the filmmakers do wrong? You got it
-- an incomplete emotional core. Through a
mockumentary style, we're introduced to
Cody, a rockhopper penguin who's the best
surfer around (admiration), but that's about
it. There's no pathos, nor any humanity. Our
entire introduction to him is mostly exposi-
tional through various interviews with his
mother and bickering brother. As to his moti-
vation, all he wants to do is leave home and
surf, which isn't noble enough for us to care
about. And then when he makes it to Pen Gu
Island for a surfing competition, it goes down-
hill as we discover that our main character is
pretty much goal-less, beyond his desire to
win the competition. But because his emo-
tional need to win it is missing, the stakes feel
low. Low empathy combined with low emo-
tional stakes is a recipe for disaster, proven re-
peatedly by the data.
For all the effort that other animation stu-
dios expend in emulating Pixar's success, most
miss the fact that it's not the technology but
the studio's writing that makes the difference,
especially its focus on the emotional core. This
leads to quality storytelling with heart and hu-
manity. While Pixar did not invent this emo-
tional core formula, it has been consistent in
applying it. Those who have used it have
proven to be successful; those who have ig-
nored it, not so much.
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