Hi, it’s “This James Rutter” here.

I think your response is epitomised by your usage of a semi-colon. Just because a story revolves around the (under)world of crystal meth doesn’t make it any less rich than one which takes place by the River Styx. You shouldn’t confuse depth with subject matter.

Also, Breaking Bad is not trying to display the “central realities” of the drug world. This should have been honkingly apparent from the Season 4 finale (I won’t divulge, in case you haven’t seen it.) It seems clear to me that the writers are more interested in creating entertaining storylines than adhering to realism, although I find it incredibly well-researched nonetheless.

“an Achilles like heroine as his sidekick”

…In case you didn’t know, Achilles was both a man and a champion, so he’s not exactly sidekick-heroine material.

Well, the first thing to say is that I was actually using Breaking Bad as an example of what Steven was saying. You know right from the moment Walter White says “chemistry is the study of change” that he’s referring to his own future. And, given the subject matter, it’s completely fitting.

I just object to the notion that the main character must necessarily change the most. It’s often the case, sure, but I think stipulating that it *must* happen often leads to cliche. Even in a story as conventional as Star Wars (the original trilogy), I’d argue that Darth Vader undergoes the greatest positive change. I mean, the change from half-robotic Nazi general to posthumous defeater of the empire’s a pretty big one.

Likewise, I can think of stories where the protagonists don’t change. Lock Stock seems like a pretty good example of this. The heroes get into trouble because of money, they ‘handle’ their problems with the rival gangs, then – in the end – it looks as if they’re going to get into trouble because of money all over again. (I know the ending’s left open, but the fact that they try and call Tom heavily implies that they haven’t learnt from their mistakes.) You could argue that the heroes do transform the most – but that’s because everyone else ends up dead.

Anyway, bottom line is that I largely agree with what’s written and my criticism shouldn’t seem barbed, I just don’t want to make the mistake of confusing commonality with necessity.

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“Shakespearian anti-heroes don’t work on the big screen. They make great
antagonists but can you name me one movie with a hero who goes down in
Shakespearian fashion??”

Yes, The Talented Mr Ripley, which also happens to be my favourite film. In fact, it seems more based on Macbeth than the Highsmith novel it’s “based on.”

Shakespearian anti-heroes don’t work on the big screen. They make great antagonists but can you name me one movie with a hero who goes down in Shakespearian fashion?? The reason Breaking Bad is so effective – other than its sublime writing – may be that it is a welcome exception to that rule.

There is some simple common sense behind the fact that the main character is the one with the greatest change. To make fundamental change CREDIBLE, you will need to give a character screen time. The greatest change requires the greatest amount of screen time.

Q.O.D.

Why? What proof do you have? This is one of my big problems with 90% of screenwriting advice. It seems to be an exercise in making grandiose statements, rather than looking at evidence and trying to deduce a solid, scientific theory from it.

Fair enough, with a show like Breaking Bad, it makes sense that the protagonist should transform the most; I mean, it practically tells you at the beginning that it’s going to be about one man’s Macbethian downfall. But it doesn’t follow from this that the protagonist should always undergo the greatest change. To be honest, I roll my eyes whenever I hear about yet another screenplay about “a lonely, downtrodden loser who want to blah blah blah.”