Whether creative people like it or not, most respond to the arts emotionally because there's a definite relationship between
character development and the arts.
Aesthetics forms a scale of its own going from the gaudiest dime store glitter to the elegance of a masterpiece. This scale
moves up and down. Therefore, we might find flawlessly executed art that is depressing. On the other hand, we can see
happy, upscale work that is less than perfect aesthetically.
When someone says, “I know it's supposed to be good, but it doesn't appeal to me”, he is objecting to the tone of the work; he
may prefer something that is sad, schmaltzy, fearful, mysterious, gutsy or unobtrusive, depending on his tone (moral and
psychological need).
There are thousands of songs in the Grief band alone and they range from the quickly forgotten novelty numbers to exquisite
classics. Aesthetics has a strong tone-raising value as you will know if certain books, paintings, movies or music fill you with
excitement and pleasure.
How often have you heard an actor say, “I just can’t connect with this character” or “My Character just wouldn’t do that”?
Sometimes irrational, unforeseen acts seem to be the norm among characters created by writers who are trying to demonstrate
natural human action in their work.
The fact is, there has never been a workable method to invariably predict human behavior in creating characters—until now.
The Nature Of Characters Course is just such a method, and it is applicable to all actors, writers and directors, without
exception. This is the complete version of what Milton Katselas taught A-list actors at the Beverly Hills playhouse.
With this information, it is possible to accurately predict the behavior of a character you’re writing or playing—a potential
spouse, a business partner, employee or friend—before you commit to a role. The risks involved in human interaction can be
avoided entirely or minimized when you can infallibly predict how people will behave.
By understanding and using the information, all aspects of human relationships will become more productive and more fulfilling.
Your character, after the second revelation, will know who to associate with, who to avoid, and you will be able to help those
characters who are mired in uncomfortable situations with others. Imagine knowing, after a very short time, how people will
behave in any given circumstance. You can. Each and every time.
MUST THE ARTIST BE NEUROTIC?
A screenwriter or actor who expects to interpret life truthfully must be able to view all the emotional tones from Apathy to
Enthusiasm with an equally detached viewpoint. Their own position on the chart needn't influence their creative ability. Many of
our most talented artists were or are low spirited. However, it isn't necessary for the artist to be neurotic in order to be
creative. This is an idea that seems to get passed along despite the fact that it's not valid. Although an artist may be able to
produce when he's low, he'll be more robust and adept if he moves upscale, and he needn't sacrifice his form, style or talent in
any way. No person gets worse by going up-tone; and as you know, the hero has to come up tone to win the day and make
good. The character going up tone is their ‘Range Of Change’. No hero can win and stay negative, they have to grow
emotionally.
A good screenwriter can cheerfully write a script gruesome enough to make a strong man cringe or he can write scenes cheerful
enough to make the weeping laugh. An able composer can write incidental music either covert enough to make the sadist wiggle
with delight or open enough to rejoice the greatest of souls. The screenwriter and the actor works with life and with universes.
They can deal with any level of communication and can create any reality. They can enhance or inhibit any affinity.
ON STAGE
Character development is useful to the actor, screenwriter and director. An actress doing a dramatic Grief scene will do it more
easily if she understands all the characteristics, many of which can be conveyed without words through body language
(expression, posture, movements and long pauses in speech). A Grief person droops; her eyes are downcast. She never gives
fast, snappy answers. She sighs heavily. She's so wrapped up in herself that she finds it difficult to get interested in anything or
anyone else.
Any actor or actress in training could exercise by taking a few lines and saying them in every tone on the scale.
THE SCREENWRITER
Countless writers survive and even prosper without formally learning these developments. The best of them, however, actually
do use the material when they accurately observe and describe human nature. If you write about characters (whether real or
imaginary), using the scale will make your work easier and more believable.
If every political journalist and historian knew about the emotional tone scale, it would be a simple matter to determine whether
any famous person was a great statesman or a conniving scoundrel.
Michigan writer Ruth Minshull related that she once listened to a popular but controversial man. Since he was quite influential,
she was eager to know his tone. Unfortunately, she couldn't tell whether he was covertly hostile or top-scale because the writer
intruded his own emotion so strongly through innuendo and thinly-veiled criticism. Covert hostility types commonly do this to
discredit a high-tone person. When she finished listening to him she knew more about the writer than the subject of the speech.
Sometimes, out of admiration or orders from the editor, a journalist will endow his subject with a falsely high tone. If enough
direct quotations are included, however, you can usually bypass the author and make an accurate evaluation.
“IN CHARACTER”
Probably since the first caveman scratched a hieroglyphic symbol on a wall, writers and actors have been admonished to keep
their fictional characters “in character”, although they’re seldom told exactly how to do this. Today, however, the best
interpretation of this ill-defined phrase lies in the use of character development.
Once you select the chronic tone (moral and psychological need) of a character, you can keep him in character by sustaining
that emotion until your plot introduces a situation that justifies a rise or drop in tone. Meanwhile, you can predict his reactions:
When he's threatened will he be brave, pig-headed, cowardly, or so low he's unaware of any threat? Will he be honest when
faced with temptation? Will he be generally liked or disliked? Will he boost or depress others by his presence?
You can show the village drunk as easy-going or pugnacious when under the influence. If you sober him up, however, he
should be placed in Apathy—morose and brooding.
The angry prostitute, such as the one portrayed by Barbara Streisand in the movie “The Owl and the Pussycat”, has the same
Anger characteristics as the tough army general. The characters can be rich, poor, nauseatingly intellectual, dropout dumb,
prudish, nicely moral, nicely immoral, or downright cheap. They can be cool or frumpy. They can be members of an Indian
tribe or New York Yuppies. But if the tone is constant, the OC debutante as well as the frazzled housewife in Katy, Indiana can
readily recognize it. It has to archetype. No matter how outlandish the setting, your screenplays must have characters and
stories that the audience can identify with and relate to.
This character knowledge is a vital tool for any aspect of life involving one’s characters—and is a scale which shows the
successive emotional tones a person can experience. By “tone” is meant the momentary or continuing emotional state of a
person. Emotions such as fear, anger, grief, enthusiasm and others which people experience are shown on this graduated scale.
Skillful use of this scale in your craft enables you to both predict and understand human behavior in all its manifestations—your
job.
This Scale plots the descending spiral of life from full vitality and consciousness through half-vitality and half-consciousness
down to death. By various calculations about the energy of life, by observation and by test, this Scale is able to give levels of
behavior as life declines. These various levels are common to all men.
When a man is nearly dead, he can be said to be in a chronic apathy. And he behaves in a certain way about other things.
When a man is chronically in grief about his losses, he is in grief. And he behaves certain ways about many things.
When a person is not yet so low as grief but realizes losses are impending, or is fixed chronically at this level by past losses, he
can be said to be in fear.
An individual who is fighting against threatened losses is in anger. And he manifests other aspects of behavior.
The person who is merely suspicious that loss may take place or who has become fixed at this level is resentful. He can be said
to be in antagonism.
Above antagonism, the situation of a person is not so good that he is enthusiastic, not so bad that he is resentful. He has lost
some goals and cannot immediately locate others. He is said to be in boredom.
Near the top of the scale, a person has a conservative, cautious aspect toward life but is reaching his goals.
At the very top the individual is enthusiastic, happy and vital. Very few people are naturally here. A charitable average is
probably around contented.
You have watched this scale in operation before now. Have you ever seen a child trying to get a nickel? At first he is happy.
He simply wants a nickel. If refused, he then explains why he wants it. If he fails to get it and didn’t want it badly, he becomes
bored and goes away. But if he wants it badly, he will get antagonistic about it. Then he will become angry. Then, that failing,
he may lie about why he wants it. That failing, he goes into grief. And if he is still refused, he finally sinks into apathy and says
he doesn’t want it. This is negation.
A child threatened by danger also dwindles down the scale. At first he does not appreciate that the danger is posed at him and he
is quite cheerful. Then the danger, let us say, is a dog that starts to approach him. The child sees the danger but still does not
believe it is for him and keeps on with his business. But his playthings “bore” him for the moment. He is a little apprehensive
and not sure. Then the dog comes nearer. The child “resents him” or shows some antagonism. The dog comes nearer still.
The child becomes angry and makes some effort to injure the dog. The dog comes still nearer and is more threatening. The
child becomes afraid. Fear unavailing, the child cries. If the dog still threatens him, the child may go into an apathy and simply
wait to be bitten.
Objects or animals or people which assist survival, as they become inaccessible to the individual, bring him down the Scale.
Objects, animals or people which threaten survival, as they approach the individual, bring him down the Scale.
This scale has a chronic or an acute aspect. A person can be brought down the Scale to a low level for ten minutes and then go
back up, or he can be brought down it for ten years and not go back up.
A man who has suffered too many losses, too much pain, tends to become fixed at some lower level of the scale and, with only
slight fluctuations, stays there. Then his general and common behavior will be at that level of the Scale.
Just as an apathy moment of grief can cause a child to act along the grief band for a short while, so can an apathy fixation cause
an individual to act apathetic toward most things in his life.
SOME FAMOUS CHARACTERS
One enjoyable way to practice character development is by spotting characters (whether real or fictional) in books, movies and
plays. Let's do a few for a warm-up...
That famous, slinky creature, Long John Silver in Treasure Island was definitely covertly hostile, as evidenced by his sneaky
trickery and his smiling front.
Hamlet seemed to move around the scale; but when he delivered his famous “to be or not to be” he was caught in the indecision
of Grief. His uncle (the King) exemplified the suppressive covertly hostile by the devious skullduggery (verbal misrepresentation
intended to take advantage of a person in some way) which brought about the death of everyone around him.
In The Love Machine Jacqueline Susann describes a No Sympathy person in Robin Stone.
In the play Pygmalion (My Fair Lady), George Bernard Shaw also gave us a No Sympathy person in Henry Higgins. Lisa
Dolittle, spunky and outspoken, was mostly Antagonism with occasional fits of anger. Higgins' lack of sympathy shows up in
his complete inability to perceive or acknowledge Liza's feelings, although he sometimes uses the “coaxing cleverness” of the
Covertly Hostile or throws a fit of temper. After much exposure to each other, Shaw believably settles out the relationship at
mid-point (Anger): “She snaps his head off on the slightest provocation or on none...”. “He storms and bullies and rides...”
Thomas Berger in The Little Man sketches a covertly hostile practical nurse in a few succinct sentences: “Stout, over-curious,
and spiteful... One of those people who indulge their moral code as a drunkard does his thirst… and went so far as to drop
certain nasty implications... A more sensitive person would have taken my murmur as adequate discouragement, but Mrs. Burr
was immune to subtlety”.
In The Godfather we have the character level of organized crime (Covert Hostility to Anger). The Godfather himself, often
unsympathetic and occasionally angry, operated for the most part as a covertly hostile character, “We're reasonable people. We
can arrive at a reasonable agreement”, but underneath the simulated friendliness there was a mutually shared knowledge that any
person who failed to comply would simply be destroyed. His frequent poses of sentimentality and kindness were merely
covertly hostile devices for gaining control over others. Despite his apparent love for his family, his activities placed them under
constant threat from both the law and rival underworld gangs. We also see the exalted ego of the covertly hostile as he demands
"full respect" from his underlings, constantly asserting his “honor” while indulging in covert treachery, deception and betrayal.
Kurt Vonnegut brilliantly depicts Apathy in the funny, pitiful, non-hero Pilgrim in Slaughterhouse-Five.
VOLUME
Both the writer and the actor can also make excellent and realistic use of tone volume. Some characters come on strong while
others stay in the background—not intruding too heavily in the story—just as they do in our lives.
We often see a Covertly Hostile character who's amusing and likable—a charming, boyish, ladies' man who's generally
forgivable. Of course he's still unreliable, unfaithful and unethical. A great example is Jerry Lewis’s character of ‘Buddy Love’
from The Nutty Professor. In creating the character, Jerry Lewis said he wanted to create a character that that was the most
despicable person in the world. Some of this character’s jokes will have a bit of an edge; he won't keep agreements; he won't
persist on a job. He'll carry all the covertly hostile characteristics, but his charm makes him socially acceptable (as long as you
don't need to depend on him for much). But this is Covert Hostility on the low side, lightly done. On the other hand, we meet a
covertly hostile character with the volume turned up to half, such as the Doris Robert’s character of Marie Barone in Everybody
Loves Raymond, and although she still wears the plastic smile, she's so viciously dedicated to destruction that she leaves nothing
but tears and frustration in her wake. Then we have Meryl Streep’s character of Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada.
Yes, this character is still dedicated to destruction, but with her the volume is set on full. She actively sets out to destroy
everyone around her. The difference between Marie and Miranda is volume.
One Apathy person may be practically invisible, while another sits in the corner, saying nothing, but is permeating the room with
a heavy, suffocating hopelessness.
REALISM VS ROMANTICISM
For a number of years we have been bombarded with a level of creativeness called Realism. To this school, life is a garbage
can. “Telling it like it is” means depicting drunkenness, deceitfulness, addiction, prostitution, crime, depravity, murder,
unhappiness, sorrow, and every form of spiritual slumming. Honest realism shows us the roses in the garden as well as the
refuse in the back alley.
There's usually somebody around to appreciate every tone of writing. However, it wouldn't hurt any screenwriter to notice the
popularity of the upscale invulnerables: Sherlock Holmes, James Bond, Superman, the Lone Ranger, Spiderman, Jackie Chan,
The Halliwell Sisters, and every hero or heroine who can shoot from the hip with their eyes closed and never miss. There's
pleasure in believing in the superhuman and, no matter how mundane their own condition, man never tires of this vicarious
invincibility.
High-tone writing needn't be happy every minute. Erich Segal's Love Story is an excellent example of an upscale story about a
young couple who meet on a mutually antagonistic level and, falling in love, move up tone to a delightfully bantering, but
meaningful, relationship. The grief (introduced in the last one-fifth of the book) depicts the way upscale people would react in
such circumstances. Critics of this book fall into two camps: for or against. No one, it seems, is indifferent. Segal played
sharply on the emotional responses, so both high and low-tone readers are deeply moved by this ten-Kleenex book. In the war
of the critics, however, the first shot was fired by the unsympathetic. No Sympathy doesn't dare let anyone tug this way at his
atrophied heartstrings, so he fights back by sneeringly labeling the work “Romanticism”. And the one who laughs when
everyone else is weeping is most likely the covertly hostile character in the audience.
If Mr. Segal were to look closely at those who viciously attacked his book, he would’ve found them all at Covertly Hostile or No
Sympathy on the scale. They're saving their kudos for low-tone art that will contribute more to the degradation and destruction
of the film industry and possibly the human race.
THE TURNING POINT
Most plotting requires at least one major crucial scene or a self-revelation to add interest and bring about the desired ending. The
poor little waif makes good. The tough criminal decides to go straight. The philandering husband realizes he loves his wife after
all.
Characters do make major decisions at Apparent Defeat that change the course of their lives; but screenwriters go out of
character more on this device than any other.
When a person experiences (or causes or witnesses) a big upset, loss or misunderstanding, he's likely to make a decision that
will change the course of his life; but the choice he makes will be a negative one. When he drops to a low tone, it's impossible
for him to make an upscale decision or determine to be a good person. Any decision made in the middle of a low-tone upset will
be a low-tone decision designed to keep such circumstances from occurring again.
Like life, it’s during Apparent Defeat that a character decides to have less affinity for his fellow man (“I’m never gonna love
anybody again”), less agreement (“You can't trust anybody”), less communication (“You won’t catch me shooting off my
mouth again”), and less reality (“This isn’t happening!”). This is when he will decide to quit school, leave town, get drunk,
never trust a woman, never believe anybody, never tell the truth, or never try to help anyone again. It’s the lowest point of the
hero. He’s fallen and he doesn’t believe he can get up.
Let's say the tough, No Sympathy killer shoots at a cop and injures a little girl instead. He immediately suffers remorse and tries
to make it up by lavishing the girl and her family with gifts and money. Society may now consider him a “good” man, but you
should realize that this man is at Propitiation and the rest of his behavior should be consistent with his tone. He'll still be
unethical, weak and ineffectual. If you want the character to go straight, you must plot the circumstances to raise him up tone.
After I gave a lecture in New Zealand, a young writer came up to me and said, “I’m writing a new screenplay that's nearly
finished and I've discovered my heroine is a Grief person. I don't want to end the script with her still at this level; but if I
change her tone completely I’d have to rewrite nearly every scene. Is there any quick and believable way I can raise her up
before the end of the script?”
“Yes”, I answered. “Let the real woman inside slowly come to the surface by showing turning points of wins, not losses. Let
her succeed at something she's trying to do, perhaps by leaving someone who's holding her down”. A person at the bottom can
experience a tremendous upsurge with any minor victory. I went on to suggest that she move her up through the tones,
stressing some more than others. “She could start by showing a stronger interest in others, then she might become more
courageous and willing to fight anything stopping her. Keep giving her wins and you can take her as high as you want”.
This seemed to solve the problem because her face lit up: “Yes, I can do that. Wow! You've saved me months of rewriting”.
THE SELF-REVELATION
When you show a mean, angry character who experiences a devastating loss and realizes that he should turn into a nice person,
remember that his decision was made in the middle of grief (“I’d better be another. I'm too painful”). If you insist on endowing
him with the stereotypical heart of gold, remember that heart is made of mush at Propitiation and Obsessive Sympathy on the
scale.
If you want a character to “realize” on his own that he's been a coward or a no-good, and you want him to become an upscale
hero, you must devise a way to move him up-tone through the story with about three minor revelations or insights before his
self-revelation takes place. People are incapable of confronting the truth about themselves while in any low tone. Near the
bottom of the scale, magnificent realizations tend to be nothing more than pretty delusions.
A low-spirited person moving up will go through anger, and it's a natural turning point. At this time the former coward will say,
“I’ve had enough of this sniveling around. I’m tired of being everybody's doormat. From now on I’m getting tough”. Once
he's capable of getting angry, he might move on up. It's at Anger that a person insists on a showdown, a face-to-face
confrontation, a battle—“I’m fed up, and I’m not going to take it any more!” Don't try to bypass Anger in taking a person
upscale. It's unreal.
We sometimes read true accounts of people who undergo some “awakening” after enduring the darkest moments of their lives.
There are two explanations for this type of phenomenon. Such things can happen to a high-tone person who suffers a loss and
bounces back upscale, enriched by the experience.
A Conservative man experienced a nearly fatal automobile accident. During his long recovery he found himself so weak and
helpless that he considered suicide. He managed to cling to some thread of sanity, however, and he gradually regained his
strength and moved back upscale. Today he's higher-tone than before. If he meets a pretty girl he kisses her. When he wakes
up and the sun is shining, he considers it a beautiful day. If it's raining, he still considers it a beautiful day. He's less inhibited
and has more fun: “I found out how good it is to be alive!”
Many of the “breakthroughs” we hear about, however, are nothing more than the person settling into philosophic apathy. The
determining factor is this: What did he do afterward? Did he go out and become more effective, or did he develop a sedentary
philosophy about the mystic significance of a blade of grass?
There is an interesting and consistent phenomenon that I frequently notice: when a person abruptly becomes interested in a
mystic, occult, or symbolic explanation for everything, this is a certain clue that some ambition of his was shattered. He's
wordlessly slipped into a peaceful apathy where everything is now explained by stars, numbers, or symbols—all of which are
mysteriously preordained and out of his control. Spiritualism reminds us that nothing can happen to us without our consent—it
is us that are in control of our lives—and it is our decisions and actions that are ultimately responsible for what happens to us.
THE ENVIRONMENT OF THE ARTIST
High creativity can't take place in an atmosphere of negative criticism. The artist should select his working environment, close
friends, instructors and critics with care.
The more successful an artist is, the more negative people gravitate toward him. Use a pitchfork if necessary, but get rid of
them. The creative person needs a free mind and peaceful surroundings. If you share your dreams with a low-spirited person,
he'll crush them. Look around you and you'll find many friends with scripts that were never written, songs that were never
sung, and careers that were dashed because they aligned themselves with someone below Antagonism on the scale and soon
gave up.
YOUR CRITICS
Better to blush awhile unseen than ask the wrong person to criticize your work. The creative impulse is often fragile and the
beginning screenwriter or actor is easily discouraged if his embryonic creations are heavily punctured. Even experienced writers
and actors are vulnerable.
A well-known screenwriter showed his unfinished script to a friend. The friend voiced some criticism and the writer abandoned
the piece for nearly a year. After he recovered enough to finish the script it got an OscarTM for Best Screenplay.
The critic you select may be well-published, heavily-degreed, and wear a stamp of “authority” from some lofty institution; but if
you want to survive as a screenwriter, use his position on the scale as the first credential. Although he may know his subject
well, his comments come through his tone. If it's low, his intention will be to stop you. Below Antagonism there is no such
thing as constructive criticism.
Over a period of several years, I encountered a variety of writing instructors. In creative writing it was a Boredom type whose
literary criticism consisted of correcting grammar and sentence structure. Neither encouraging nor discouraging any possible
talent in the class, she was harmless.
The Antagonistic instructor in a Graduate Diploma Course on film & television loved to take a philosophic question, toss it to the
class and encourage hot debate. Although we engaged in many stimulating verbal brawls, we learned nothing about writing skill.
The next professor I met was pure obsessive sympathy, who so thoroughly understood artistic fragility that he never entered a
single criticism or constructive remark into his teaching. He didn't even give assignments. His was a “free” class—even free
from help.
The most discouraging instructor was a No Sympathy character who specialized in undermining the confidence of his students.
When asked for specific advice on a piece, he curtly replied: “If you want to learn the art of simile, read Georgia Portly
Lament”. He often referred to obscure writings and films, implying that unless we knew them we were beyond hope.
Criticizing with blunt generalities, he left the students dissatisfied and discouraged with their work and not knowing exactly how
to improve it.
Eventually I found an up tone instructor (John Truby) and the differences were remarkable. With no wish to hurt or discourage
his students, he praised as often as possible. On the other hand, integrity to his job (and his own skill in the field) made him able
to criticize when needed. The important difference was this: he gave specific criticism, not generalities.
I mentioned this to a friend of mine who is a university art professor and he thanked me profusely. While acutely conscious of
his students' vulnerability, he was never able to work out exactly how to criticize until I mentioned the word “specific”.
This kind of correction doesn't hurt (unless the writer is on a low-tone vanity trip) because when the writer knows exactly how
to improve his work; he learns something.
Incidentally, this is the main reason a rejection slip is so discouraging to the writer. It's a generality. There is no clue why his
screenplay didn't sell. When the writer knows the true reason (no matter how gruesome) it is easier to confront than his own
low-scale imaginings, and he may be able to remedy the piece. I understand that some production companies are now using a
rejection slip in the form of a checklist, and I'm sure this helps.
SUMMARY
Choose your art, your environment, your teachers and your critics by tone. You need low-tone help about as much as you need
a hole in the head.
There is every reason for the screenwriter to be upscale and none for being down. A wise man once said that it is “The author
who, through grossness and vulgarity, destroy the morés of a race and so destroy the race”.
On the other hand, top-scale screenwriters are the most powerful people on earth, for aesthetics is the quickest method of all for
lifting large numbers of people up-tone.
character development and the arts.
Aesthetics forms a scale of its own going from the gaudiest dime store glitter to the elegance of a masterpiece. This scale
moves up and down. Therefore, we might find flawlessly executed art that is depressing. On the other hand, we can see
happy, upscale work that is less than perfect aesthetically.
When someone says, “I know it's supposed to be good, but it doesn't appeal to me”, he is objecting to the tone of the work; he
may prefer something that is sad, schmaltzy, fearful, mysterious, gutsy or unobtrusive, depending on his tone (moral and
psychological need).
There are thousands of songs in the Grief band alone and they range from the quickly forgotten novelty numbers to exquisite
classics. Aesthetics has a strong tone-raising value as you will know if certain books, paintings, movies or music fill you with
excitement and pleasure.
How often have you heard an actor say, “I just can’t connect with this character” or “My Character just wouldn’t do that”?
Sometimes irrational, unforeseen acts seem to be the norm among characters created by writers who are trying to demonstrate
natural human action in their work.
The fact is, there has never been a workable method to invariably predict human behavior in creating characters—until now.
The Nature Of Characters Course is just such a method, and it is applicable to all actors, writers and directors, without
exception. This is the complete version of what Milton Katselas taught A-list actors at the Beverly Hills playhouse.
With this information, it is possible to accurately predict the behavior of a character you’re writing or playing—a potential
spouse, a business partner, employee or friend—before you commit to a role. The risks involved in human interaction can be
avoided entirely or minimized when you can infallibly predict how people will behave.
By understanding and using the information, all aspects of human relationships will become more productive and more fulfilling.
Your character, after the second revelation, will know who to associate with, who to avoid, and you will be able to help those
characters who are mired in uncomfortable situations with others. Imagine knowing, after a very short time, how people will
behave in any given circumstance. You can. Each and every time.
MUST THE ARTIST BE NEUROTIC?
A screenwriter or actor who expects to interpret life truthfully must be able to view all the emotional tones from Apathy to
Enthusiasm with an equally detached viewpoint. Their own position on the chart needn't influence their creative ability. Many of
our most talented artists were or are low spirited. However, it isn't necessary for the artist to be neurotic in order to be
creative. This is an idea that seems to get passed along despite the fact that it's not valid. Although an artist may be able to
produce when he's low, he'll be more robust and adept if he moves upscale, and he needn't sacrifice his form, style or talent in
any way. No person gets worse by going up-tone; and as you know, the hero has to come up tone to win the day and make
good. The character going up tone is their ‘Range Of Change’. No hero can win and stay negative, they have to grow
emotionally.
A good screenwriter can cheerfully write a script gruesome enough to make a strong man cringe or he can write scenes cheerful
enough to make the weeping laugh. An able composer can write incidental music either covert enough to make the sadist wiggle
with delight or open enough to rejoice the greatest of souls. The screenwriter and the actor works with life and with universes.
They can deal with any level of communication and can create any reality. They can enhance or inhibit any affinity.
ON STAGE
Character development is useful to the actor, screenwriter and director. An actress doing a dramatic Grief scene will do it more
easily if she understands all the characteristics, many of which can be conveyed without words through body language
(expression, posture, movements and long pauses in speech). A Grief person droops; her eyes are downcast. She never gives
fast, snappy answers. She sighs heavily. She's so wrapped up in herself that she finds it difficult to get interested in anything or
anyone else.
Any actor or actress in training could exercise by taking a few lines and saying them in every tone on the scale.
THE SCREENWRITER
Countless writers survive and even prosper without formally learning these developments. The best of them, however, actually
do use the material when they accurately observe and describe human nature. If you write about characters (whether real or
imaginary), using the scale will make your work easier and more believable.
If every political journalist and historian knew about the emotional tone scale, it would be a simple matter to determine whether
any famous person was a great statesman or a conniving scoundrel.
Michigan writer Ruth Minshull related that she once listened to a popular but controversial man. Since he was quite influential,
she was eager to know his tone. Unfortunately, she couldn't tell whether he was covertly hostile or top-scale because the writer
intruded his own emotion so strongly through innuendo and thinly-veiled criticism. Covert hostility types commonly do this to
discredit a high-tone person. When she finished listening to him she knew more about the writer than the subject of the speech.
Sometimes, out of admiration or orders from the editor, a journalist will endow his subject with a falsely high tone. If enough
direct quotations are included, however, you can usually bypass the author and make an accurate evaluation.
“IN CHARACTER”
Probably since the first caveman scratched a hieroglyphic symbol on a wall, writers and actors have been admonished to keep
their fictional characters “in character”, although they’re seldom told exactly how to do this. Today, however, the best
interpretation of this ill-defined phrase lies in the use of character development.
Once you select the chronic tone (moral and psychological need) of a character, you can keep him in character by sustaining
that emotion until your plot introduces a situation that justifies a rise or drop in tone. Meanwhile, you can predict his reactions:
When he's threatened will he be brave, pig-headed, cowardly, or so low he's unaware of any threat? Will he be honest when
faced with temptation? Will he be generally liked or disliked? Will he boost or depress others by his presence?
You can show the village drunk as easy-going or pugnacious when under the influence. If you sober him up, however, he
should be placed in Apathy—morose and brooding.
The angry prostitute, such as the one portrayed by Barbara Streisand in the movie “The Owl and the Pussycat”, has the same
Anger characteristics as the tough army general. The characters can be rich, poor, nauseatingly intellectual, dropout dumb,
prudish, nicely moral, nicely immoral, or downright cheap. They can be cool or frumpy. They can be members of an Indian
tribe or New York Yuppies. But if the tone is constant, the OC debutante as well as the frazzled housewife in Katy, Indiana can
readily recognize it. It has to archetype. No matter how outlandish the setting, your screenplays must have characters and
stories that the audience can identify with and relate to.
This character knowledge is a vital tool for any aspect of life involving one’s characters—and is a scale which shows the
successive emotional tones a person can experience. By “tone” is meant the momentary or continuing emotional state of a
person. Emotions such as fear, anger, grief, enthusiasm and others which people experience are shown on this graduated scale.
Skillful use of this scale in your craft enables you to both predict and understand human behavior in all its manifestations—your
job.
This Scale plots the descending spiral of life from full vitality and consciousness through half-vitality and half-consciousness
down to death. By various calculations about the energy of life, by observation and by test, this Scale is able to give levels of
behavior as life declines. These various levels are common to all men.
When a man is nearly dead, he can be said to be in a chronic apathy. And he behaves in a certain way about other things.
When a man is chronically in grief about his losses, he is in grief. And he behaves certain ways about many things.
When a person is not yet so low as grief but realizes losses are impending, or is fixed chronically at this level by past losses, he
can be said to be in fear.
An individual who is fighting against threatened losses is in anger. And he manifests other aspects of behavior.
The person who is merely suspicious that loss may take place or who has become fixed at this level is resentful. He can be said
to be in antagonism.
Above antagonism, the situation of a person is not so good that he is enthusiastic, not so bad that he is resentful. He has lost
some goals and cannot immediately locate others. He is said to be in boredom.
Near the top of the scale, a person has a conservative, cautious aspect toward life but is reaching his goals.
At the very top the individual is enthusiastic, happy and vital. Very few people are naturally here. A charitable average is
probably around contented.
You have watched this scale in operation before now. Have you ever seen a child trying to get a nickel? At first he is happy.
He simply wants a nickel. If refused, he then explains why he wants it. If he fails to get it and didn’t want it badly, he becomes
bored and goes away. But if he wants it badly, he will get antagonistic about it. Then he will become angry. Then, that failing,
he may lie about why he wants it. That failing, he goes into grief. And if he is still refused, he finally sinks into apathy and says
he doesn’t want it. This is negation.
A child threatened by danger also dwindles down the scale. At first he does not appreciate that the danger is posed at him and he
is quite cheerful. Then the danger, let us say, is a dog that starts to approach him. The child sees the danger but still does not
believe it is for him and keeps on with his business. But his playthings “bore” him for the moment. He is a little apprehensive
and not sure. Then the dog comes nearer. The child “resents him” or shows some antagonism. The dog comes nearer still.
The child becomes angry and makes some effort to injure the dog. The dog comes still nearer and is more threatening. The
child becomes afraid. Fear unavailing, the child cries. If the dog still threatens him, the child may go into an apathy and simply
wait to be bitten.
Objects or animals or people which assist survival, as they become inaccessible to the individual, bring him down the Scale.
Objects, animals or people which threaten survival, as they approach the individual, bring him down the Scale.
This scale has a chronic or an acute aspect. A person can be brought down the Scale to a low level for ten minutes and then go
back up, or he can be brought down it for ten years and not go back up.
A man who has suffered too many losses, too much pain, tends to become fixed at some lower level of the scale and, with only
slight fluctuations, stays there. Then his general and common behavior will be at that level of the Scale.
Just as an apathy moment of grief can cause a child to act along the grief band for a short while, so can an apathy fixation cause
an individual to act apathetic toward most things in his life.
SOME FAMOUS CHARACTERS
One enjoyable way to practice character development is by spotting characters (whether real or fictional) in books, movies and
plays. Let's do a few for a warm-up...
That famous, slinky creature, Long John Silver in Treasure Island was definitely covertly hostile, as evidenced by his sneaky
trickery and his smiling front.
Hamlet seemed to move around the scale; but when he delivered his famous “to be or not to be” he was caught in the indecision
of Grief. His uncle (the King) exemplified the suppressive covertly hostile by the devious skullduggery (verbal misrepresentation
intended to take advantage of a person in some way) which brought about the death of everyone around him.
In The Love Machine Jacqueline Susann describes a No Sympathy person in Robin Stone.
In the play Pygmalion (My Fair Lady), George Bernard Shaw also gave us a No Sympathy person in Henry Higgins. Lisa
Dolittle, spunky and outspoken, was mostly Antagonism with occasional fits of anger. Higgins' lack of sympathy shows up in
his complete inability to perceive or acknowledge Liza's feelings, although he sometimes uses the “coaxing cleverness” of the
Covertly Hostile or throws a fit of temper. After much exposure to each other, Shaw believably settles out the relationship at
mid-point (Anger): “She snaps his head off on the slightest provocation or on none...”. “He storms and bullies and rides...”
Thomas Berger in The Little Man sketches a covertly hostile practical nurse in a few succinct sentences: “Stout, over-curious,
and spiteful... One of those people who indulge their moral code as a drunkard does his thirst… and went so far as to drop
certain nasty implications... A more sensitive person would have taken my murmur as adequate discouragement, but Mrs. Burr
was immune to subtlety”.
In The Godfather we have the character level of organized crime (Covert Hostility to Anger). The Godfather himself, often
unsympathetic and occasionally angry, operated for the most part as a covertly hostile character, “We're reasonable people. We
can arrive at a reasonable agreement”, but underneath the simulated friendliness there was a mutually shared knowledge that any
person who failed to comply would simply be destroyed. His frequent poses of sentimentality and kindness were merely
covertly hostile devices for gaining control over others. Despite his apparent love for his family, his activities placed them under
constant threat from both the law and rival underworld gangs. We also see the exalted ego of the covertly hostile as he demands
"full respect" from his underlings, constantly asserting his “honor” while indulging in covert treachery, deception and betrayal.
Kurt Vonnegut brilliantly depicts Apathy in the funny, pitiful, non-hero Pilgrim in Slaughterhouse-Five.
VOLUME
Both the writer and the actor can also make excellent and realistic use of tone volume. Some characters come on strong while
others stay in the background—not intruding too heavily in the story—just as they do in our lives.
We often see a Covertly Hostile character who's amusing and likable—a charming, boyish, ladies' man who's generally
forgivable. Of course he's still unreliable, unfaithful and unethical. A great example is Jerry Lewis’s character of ‘Buddy Love’
from The Nutty Professor. In creating the character, Jerry Lewis said he wanted to create a character that that was the most
despicable person in the world. Some of this character’s jokes will have a bit of an edge; he won't keep agreements; he won't
persist on a job. He'll carry all the covertly hostile characteristics, but his charm makes him socially acceptable (as long as you
don't need to depend on him for much). But this is Covert Hostility on the low side, lightly done. On the other hand, we meet a
covertly hostile character with the volume turned up to half, such as the Doris Robert’s character of Marie Barone in Everybody
Loves Raymond, and although she still wears the plastic smile, she's so viciously dedicated to destruction that she leaves nothing
but tears and frustration in her wake. Then we have Meryl Streep’s character of Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada.
Yes, this character is still dedicated to destruction, but with her the volume is set on full. She actively sets out to destroy
everyone around her. The difference between Marie and Miranda is volume.
One Apathy person may be practically invisible, while another sits in the corner, saying nothing, but is permeating the room with
a heavy, suffocating hopelessness.
REALISM VS ROMANTICISM
For a number of years we have been bombarded with a level of creativeness called Realism. To this school, life is a garbage
can. “Telling it like it is” means depicting drunkenness, deceitfulness, addiction, prostitution, crime, depravity, murder,
unhappiness, sorrow, and every form of spiritual slumming. Honest realism shows us the roses in the garden as well as the
refuse in the back alley.
There's usually somebody around to appreciate every tone of writing. However, it wouldn't hurt any screenwriter to notice the
popularity of the upscale invulnerables: Sherlock Holmes, James Bond, Superman, the Lone Ranger, Spiderman, Jackie Chan,
The Halliwell Sisters, and every hero or heroine who can shoot from the hip with their eyes closed and never miss. There's
pleasure in believing in the superhuman and, no matter how mundane their own condition, man never tires of this vicarious
invincibility.
High-tone writing needn't be happy every minute. Erich Segal's Love Story is an excellent example of an upscale story about a
young couple who meet on a mutually antagonistic level and, falling in love, move up tone to a delightfully bantering, but
meaningful, relationship. The grief (introduced in the last one-fifth of the book) depicts the way upscale people would react in
such circumstances. Critics of this book fall into two camps: for or against. No one, it seems, is indifferent. Segal played
sharply on the emotional responses, so both high and low-tone readers are deeply moved by this ten-Kleenex book. In the war
of the critics, however, the first shot was fired by the unsympathetic. No Sympathy doesn't dare let anyone tug this way at his
atrophied heartstrings, so he fights back by sneeringly labeling the work “Romanticism”. And the one who laughs when
everyone else is weeping is most likely the covertly hostile character in the audience.
If Mr. Segal were to look closely at those who viciously attacked his book, he would’ve found them all at Covertly Hostile or No
Sympathy on the scale. They're saving their kudos for low-tone art that will contribute more to the degradation and destruction
of the film industry and possibly the human race.
THE TURNING POINT
Most plotting requires at least one major crucial scene or a self-revelation to add interest and bring about the desired ending. The
poor little waif makes good. The tough criminal decides to go straight. The philandering husband realizes he loves his wife after
all.
Characters do make major decisions at Apparent Defeat that change the course of their lives; but screenwriters go out of
character more on this device than any other.
When a person experiences (or causes or witnesses) a big upset, loss or misunderstanding, he's likely to make a decision that
will change the course of his life; but the choice he makes will be a negative one. When he drops to a low tone, it's impossible
for him to make an upscale decision or determine to be a good person. Any decision made in the middle of a low-tone upset will
be a low-tone decision designed to keep such circumstances from occurring again.
Like life, it’s during Apparent Defeat that a character decides to have less affinity for his fellow man (“I’m never gonna love
anybody again”), less agreement (“You can't trust anybody”), less communication (“You won’t catch me shooting off my
mouth again”), and less reality (“This isn’t happening!”). This is when he will decide to quit school, leave town, get drunk,
never trust a woman, never believe anybody, never tell the truth, or never try to help anyone again. It’s the lowest point of the
hero. He’s fallen and he doesn’t believe he can get up.
Let's say the tough, No Sympathy killer shoots at a cop and injures a little girl instead. He immediately suffers remorse and tries
to make it up by lavishing the girl and her family with gifts and money. Society may now consider him a “good” man, but you
should realize that this man is at Propitiation and the rest of his behavior should be consistent with his tone. He'll still be
unethical, weak and ineffectual. If you want the character to go straight, you must plot the circumstances to raise him up tone.
After I gave a lecture in New Zealand, a young writer came up to me and said, “I’m writing a new screenplay that's nearly
finished and I've discovered my heroine is a Grief person. I don't want to end the script with her still at this level; but if I
change her tone completely I’d have to rewrite nearly every scene. Is there any quick and believable way I can raise her up
before the end of the script?”
“Yes”, I answered. “Let the real woman inside slowly come to the surface by showing turning points of wins, not losses. Let
her succeed at something she's trying to do, perhaps by leaving someone who's holding her down”. A person at the bottom can
experience a tremendous upsurge with any minor victory. I went on to suggest that she move her up through the tones,
stressing some more than others. “She could start by showing a stronger interest in others, then she might become more
courageous and willing to fight anything stopping her. Keep giving her wins and you can take her as high as you want”.
This seemed to solve the problem because her face lit up: “Yes, I can do that. Wow! You've saved me months of rewriting”.
THE SELF-REVELATION
When you show a mean, angry character who experiences a devastating loss and realizes that he should turn into a nice person,
remember that his decision was made in the middle of grief (“I’d better be another. I'm too painful”). If you insist on endowing
him with the stereotypical heart of gold, remember that heart is made of mush at Propitiation and Obsessive Sympathy on the
scale.
If you want a character to “realize” on his own that he's been a coward or a no-good, and you want him to become an upscale
hero, you must devise a way to move him up-tone through the story with about three minor revelations or insights before his
self-revelation takes place. People are incapable of confronting the truth about themselves while in any low tone. Near the
bottom of the scale, magnificent realizations tend to be nothing more than pretty delusions.
A low-spirited person moving up will go through anger, and it's a natural turning point. At this time the former coward will say,
“I’ve had enough of this sniveling around. I’m tired of being everybody's doormat. From now on I’m getting tough”. Once
he's capable of getting angry, he might move on up. It's at Anger that a person insists on a showdown, a face-to-face
confrontation, a battle—“I’m fed up, and I’m not going to take it any more!” Don't try to bypass Anger in taking a person
upscale. It's unreal.
We sometimes read true accounts of people who undergo some “awakening” after enduring the darkest moments of their lives.
There are two explanations for this type of phenomenon. Such things can happen to a high-tone person who suffers a loss and
bounces back upscale, enriched by the experience.
A Conservative man experienced a nearly fatal automobile accident. During his long recovery he found himself so weak and
helpless that he considered suicide. He managed to cling to some thread of sanity, however, and he gradually regained his
strength and moved back upscale. Today he's higher-tone than before. If he meets a pretty girl he kisses her. When he wakes
up and the sun is shining, he considers it a beautiful day. If it's raining, he still considers it a beautiful day. He's less inhibited
and has more fun: “I found out how good it is to be alive!”
Many of the “breakthroughs” we hear about, however, are nothing more than the person settling into philosophic apathy. The
determining factor is this: What did he do afterward? Did he go out and become more effective, or did he develop a sedentary
philosophy about the mystic significance of a blade of grass?
There is an interesting and consistent phenomenon that I frequently notice: when a person abruptly becomes interested in a
mystic, occult, or symbolic explanation for everything, this is a certain clue that some ambition of his was shattered. He's
wordlessly slipped into a peaceful apathy where everything is now explained by stars, numbers, or symbols—all of which are
mysteriously preordained and out of his control. Spiritualism reminds us that nothing can happen to us without our consent—it
is us that are in control of our lives—and it is our decisions and actions that are ultimately responsible for what happens to us.
THE ENVIRONMENT OF THE ARTIST
High creativity can't take place in an atmosphere of negative criticism. The artist should select his working environment, close
friends, instructors and critics with care.
The more successful an artist is, the more negative people gravitate toward him. Use a pitchfork if necessary, but get rid of
them. The creative person needs a free mind and peaceful surroundings. If you share your dreams with a low-spirited person,
he'll crush them. Look around you and you'll find many friends with scripts that were never written, songs that were never
sung, and careers that were dashed because they aligned themselves with someone below Antagonism on the scale and soon
gave up.
YOUR CRITICS
Better to blush awhile unseen than ask the wrong person to criticize your work. The creative impulse is often fragile and the
beginning screenwriter or actor is easily discouraged if his embryonic creations are heavily punctured. Even experienced writers
and actors are vulnerable.
A well-known screenwriter showed his unfinished script to a friend. The friend voiced some criticism and the writer abandoned
the piece for nearly a year. After he recovered enough to finish the script it got an OscarTM for Best Screenplay.
The critic you select may be well-published, heavily-degreed, and wear a stamp of “authority” from some lofty institution; but if
you want to survive as a screenwriter, use his position on the scale as the first credential. Although he may know his subject
well, his comments come through his tone. If it's low, his intention will be to stop you. Below Antagonism there is no such
thing as constructive criticism.
Over a period of several years, I encountered a variety of writing instructors. In creative writing it was a Boredom type whose
literary criticism consisted of correcting grammar and sentence structure. Neither encouraging nor discouraging any possible
talent in the class, she was harmless.
The Antagonistic instructor in a Graduate Diploma Course on film & television loved to take a philosophic question, toss it to the
class and encourage hot debate. Although we engaged in many stimulating verbal brawls, we learned nothing about writing skill.
The next professor I met was pure obsessive sympathy, who so thoroughly understood artistic fragility that he never entered a
single criticism or constructive remark into his teaching. He didn't even give assignments. His was a “free” class—even free
from help.
The most discouraging instructor was a No Sympathy character who specialized in undermining the confidence of his students.
When asked for specific advice on a piece, he curtly replied: “If you want to learn the art of simile, read Georgia Portly
Lament”. He often referred to obscure writings and films, implying that unless we knew them we were beyond hope.
Criticizing with blunt generalities, he left the students dissatisfied and discouraged with their work and not knowing exactly how
to improve it.
Eventually I found an up tone instructor (John Truby) and the differences were remarkable. With no wish to hurt or discourage
his students, he praised as often as possible. On the other hand, integrity to his job (and his own skill in the field) made him able
to criticize when needed. The important difference was this: he gave specific criticism, not generalities.
I mentioned this to a friend of mine who is a university art professor and he thanked me profusely. While acutely conscious of
his students' vulnerability, he was never able to work out exactly how to criticize until I mentioned the word “specific”.
This kind of correction doesn't hurt (unless the writer is on a low-tone vanity trip) because when the writer knows exactly how
to improve his work; he learns something.
Incidentally, this is the main reason a rejection slip is so discouraging to the writer. It's a generality. There is no clue why his
screenplay didn't sell. When the writer knows the true reason (no matter how gruesome) it is easier to confront than his own
low-scale imaginings, and he may be able to remedy the piece. I understand that some production companies are now using a
rejection slip in the form of a checklist, and I'm sure this helps.
SUMMARY
Choose your art, your environment, your teachers and your critics by tone. You need low-tone help about as much as you need
a hole in the head.
There is every reason for the screenwriter to be upscale and none for being down. A wise man once said that it is “The author
who, through grossness and vulgarity, destroy the morés of a race and so destroy the race”.
On the other hand, top-scale screenwriters are the most powerful people on earth, for aesthetics is the quickest method of all for
lifting large numbers of people up-tone.
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