Additional thought on storytelling

Yesterday I talked about a scene from Queer As Folk, and how by allowing the audience to work out the characters for themselves, they make the whole story more compelling.

It turns out there was another possible reason I found the scene so affecting, which came up during an improv workshop with Stella Duffy. The group had to stand in the circle, say their name, and a fact about themselves (and later, a lie). The point that came out of it was that the facts we remembered were the ones that had "specificity", i.e. the ones that provided an interesting nugget of information to hold on to.

So everyone remembered that Jaane had eaten hamburgers all week, or that Olesia like white clothes with red detail, or that the man I saw earlier that morning was Peruvian. So perhaps that's why I still remember the chunky kit kat line from Queer As Folk, even now.

Show, Don't Tell

Advertising is all storytelling. We know this. John Hegarty has a whole chapter about it. And one of his most important points is to say "you must leave room for the audience to participate", whereas "most writers leave nothing for the audience to do".

These words came back to me as I bought a Chunky Kit Kat on Argyll Street. There was a scene from the second series of Queer As Folk (the original UK version), where the flamboyant, extrovert Alexander had visited his dying father, to learn that he would be denied any inheritance - because of his sexuality. His response was brittle, uncaring, and defiant, but later on, as the characters prepare for a party, an ambulance turns up outside the house and Alexander goes to answer the door

Paramedic: Right, somebody call an ambulance?

Alexander: It's me, I'm fine, I've got the bottle (hands over medicine bottle), there you go, I only took them ten minutes ago so there's nothing to fuss about. Um... I had a Chunky Kit Kat, but I don't suppose that counts.

Paramedic: Well let's get you seen to, are you walking alright?

Alexander: Yeah I'm fine, it's nothing, let's go.

There you have it. Without ever explicitly stating it, you know that this is far from Alexander's first suicide attempt or overdose - he anticipates the questions before they come; he knows the drill. And you know how I'm sure it works? I saw this programme once or twice, and probably about 10 years ago. And yet I still remember the exact brand of confectionary that Alexander had eaten after he'd swallowed all those pills.