Part 20 of The Do’s and Don’ts of Storytelling According to Marvel
Writers often have a complicated relationship with theme. We love it. It loves us back. But reaching a harmonious happily-ever-after with theme sometimes turns into as much of a soap opera as a long-running CW drama.
Just writing a story that has a theme is a huge step in the right direction—one that will put you far ahead of the pack. But then comes the careful dance of executing that theme in a way that brings plot and character together into a whole of cohesion and resonance.
If you believe you’ve reached that point in your writing journey, then you have my profound respect (and, as a reader, my gratitude).
But here’s something I’ve been learning lately: the thematic journey ain’t over.
We talked a few weeks ago about the idea of “unique themes.” Really, what this concept comes down to is an awareness of authentic themes and a willingness to search beyond the obvious choices to find those that best optimize all aspects of the story.
Today, I want to look at how you can choose a better theme for your book by examining some of the missed thematic opportunities of Marvel’s Ant-Man and the Wasp.
Ant-Man and the Wasp on Why (if You Really Have to Choose) You Should Choose Theme Over Plot Every Time
That headline might sound familiar. It’s the same one I used to introduce Black Panther‘s entry in the series. In that article, I talked about how Black Panther managed to survive its great pitfall—wobbly plot structure—thanks to its devotion to a coherent thematic throughline for its main character.
Ant-Man and the Wasp, sadly, is an example of the opposite. What this movie does well (humor and, well, Paul Rudd), it does very well. But the rest of it? Not so much. I spent the entirety of the film alternating between two reactions—amusement at the funny bits and boredom at pretty much everything else.
There are a couple reasons for this.
- Once again, the antagonistic forces are scattered and not particularly integral to the main conflict.
- The story lacked the same cohesive “feel” as the first Ant-Man movie (which presented itself, refreshingly, as a “heist” movie).
- Most telling of all, protagonist Scott Lang was decidedly ancillary to the main conflict and personally impacted the forward momentum of the plot in only a handful of places.
But the biggest reason—the one all three of the above point to—is the lack of thematic depth. That’s disappointing, especially since, for my money, there were plenty of wasted opportunities.
Still, there was definitely stuff to like:
- Paul Rudd. He’s pretty just… Paul Rudd here. But his charm carries every scene he’s in.
- However ancillary his subplot, I totally appreciated the nuances of Bill Foster character’s not turning out to be a back-stabbing baddie, even though his goals and Hank’s stood in opposition to each other.
- Supporting cast. All the supporting characters were good in their place—everybody from Scott Lang’s ex-con buddies to Michelle Pfeiffer’s cameo (let me just say that if I ever get stuck in the Quantum Realm for thirty years, I hope my eye make-up looks that good) to the always excellent Walton Goggins.
4 Ways to Choose a Better Theme for Your Book

Writing Your Story’s Theme (Amazon affiliate link)
I’m going to argue that the single most common problem I see holding stories back from excellence is a lack of solid thematic execution. Don’t let that happen to you. If you’re going to master just one storytelling technique, strive to master theme. It changes everything.
Don’t leave your theme up to chance. Examine all the elements of your story—especially character arc and plot—to discover how to fit all the pieces together into a big picture of powerful thematic cohesion and resonance. And don’t stop there. Once you think you’ve found a pertinent theme, look harder. Is this the best theme for this story? Or could you choose a better theme that would notch everything up just a little more?
To that end, here are four questions you can ask yourself to determine whether you’ve got a theme, a better theme, or the best theme.
1. What Can Your Protagonist Bring to the Conflict That No One Else Can?
A truth often lost upon modern storytellers (especially within the medium of action movies) is that the heart of your story is not found in your plot. Rather, it’s found in your protagonist.
Consider, by way of example, Christmas. What is Christmas? Is it the decorations, the lights, the tree, the presents, the cookies? Or is Christmas the people, both personally and collectively, whose love, generosity, and faith infuse these traditions with meaning and purpose?
When examining your story for its best theme, start with your protagonist. This begins, of course, with knowing which character is your protagonist (even if your story features multiple main characters, you’ll still want to identify the character who represents the thematic throughline).

Creating Character Arcs (Amazon affiliate link)
And once you’ve found your protagonist—then what? We’ve talked before about how the essence of the theme is both found and proven within the protagonist’s character arc. But you can leverage this even more specifically by asking telling questions about this character.
1. What is it your protagonist brings to this particular conflict that no other character does?
2. Why is this his conflict, his plot—and not anyone else’s in the story?
3. What is your protagonist’s greatest virtue?
4. Greatest flaw?
5. How does this virtue and this flaw directly influence the plot—and what do they say about both the plot and the character himself?
Examining the Protagonist of Ant-Man and the Wasp
As a matter of fact, this film’s title is a clue to its first thematic misstep. Just whose story is this?
Nothing wrong with dual protagonists. But if that’s the route you’re gonna go, both characters’ journeys must come together thematically by the end.
Here, we have Hope Van Dyne set up as the one whose goal (i.e., save her mother from the Quantum Realm) drives the entire plot. And yet, this story is never presented as hers. This is clearly set up as Scott’s sequel. But just as was the case in his first movie, he is totally ancillary to the main conflict. The main plot goal isn’t his. The antagonistic force isn’t directly opposing him. He does very little in this film other than be charming and funny—while Hope stomps around getting stuff done.
But here’s the thing. Just a tiny bit of thematic tweaking could have made this all work. As it stands, Hope and Hank don’t really need Scott to do much of anything to help them reach their plot goals. Scott doesn’t know science like Hank does, and he can’t even whup on the bad guys as convincingly as Hope does. He’s a radio antennae to the Quantum Realm and nothing more.
So what does Scott bring to this story as a protagonist? Or, rather, what could he have brought?
I’m gonna argue this story could have been thematically saved had it only been recognized and emphasized that what Scott brings is heart. He’s a genuinely nice guy who wants to help people. He wants to help Hope and Hank, to the point that in order to help them save their family, he puts everything—including his relationship with his own family—on the line for them. Hank and Hope don’t particularly share this virtue. They have no problem asking Scott to endanger his own family, just as they have few qualms about sacrificing Ghost in order to save Janet.
This is never acknowledged, never used as the thematic leverage point that might have transformed the external conflict into a deeper investigation of life and relationships.
2. How Is the Antagonistic Force a Direct Challenge to the Protagonist’s Relationship to the Theme?
Theme is the glue that binds everything in your storyform. The single most blatant way in which it does this is by binding the external conflict to the internal conflict by binding the antagonist to the protagonist.
One of the most common problems in stories that struggle with thematic cohesion (aka nearly every Marvel movie ever) is the lack of attention to the antagonistic force’s alignment to the theme. Specifically, you want to see the antagonistic force presenting a direct challenge to your protagonist’s thematic orientation.
This can manifest in a couple of ways.
- If your protagonist is following a Positive Change Arc, she will start out in a negative relationship to the thematic Truth (i.e., she will resist it or outright reject it in favor of an opposing Lie). In this instance, the antagonistic force will likely represent the negative Lie, which will eventually challenge the protagonist’s view of that Lie and end by catalyzing her move to embrace the Truth.
- If your protagonist is following a Flat Arc, he will maintain a positive relationship to the thematic Truth throughout the story (i.e., he will embrace, utilize, and promote the Truth as a way to advance his plot goals). In this instance, the antagonistic force will always oppose the protagonist’s Truth with the Lie. Whether blatantly or not, the external conflict will represent a battle between ideologies.
- If your protagonist is following a Negative Change Arc, she may start out in either a positive or negative relationship to the thematic Truth (i.e., she may start out already aligned with either the Truth or the Lie). In this instance, the antagonistic force may represent either the Truth (which, again, will be pitted against the protagonist’s Lie in at least a subtextual battle of ideologies) or the Lie (which will serve to seduce the protagonist to her ultimate demise).
Whatever the case, if the antagonistic force does not comment upon the theme in a way that catalyzes the external conflict, you can be pretty sure the external and internal conflicts are not in alignment. In short: at best, you’re telling two different stories at the same time.
Examining the Antagonistic Force in Ant-Man and the Wasp
Marvel movies remain a high step above most of the remaining blockbuster fare these days for the simple reason that they keep the majority of their stories deliberately focused on their protagonists. But Marvel’s perpetual Achilles’ heel remains its disconnect between those protagonists and their antagonists. With a few exceptions (most notably Cap vs. Tony in Civil War), Marvel’s antagonists (and thus their external conflicts) have very little thematic pertinence to the protagonists’ personal journeys.
This is blatantly on display in Ant-Man and the Wasp, which features four (count ’em, four) antagonistic forces:
- Ghost is the flashiest and most poster-worthy of the story’s cadre of antagonists. She consistently creates obstacles to the primary goal of rescuing Janet Van Dyne—but her connection to this main conflict is ancillary. It’s coincidental that the tech she needs to save herself is also the tech needed to save Janet. Even more telling, she has zero explicit connections to Scott, much less specific challenges to his thematic orientation.
- Black marketeer Sonny Burch is even more ancillary. He’d have made a lot more sense within the plot had he been working for Ghost or vice versa.
- Of the human antagonists in this story, the Feds (who are hunting Hope and Hank while trying to keep Scott under house arrest) are the most pertinent to Scott. They are the only ones who directly threaten him and his personal conflict/stakes. However, they’re merely plot devices who offer no comment whatsoever upon the thematic premise.
- Finally, the true antagonistic force in this story is the Quantum Realm itself, which is preventing the characters from achieving their primary plot goal of rescuing Janet. Although non-human antagonistic forces can comment on thematic premises in powerfully symbolic ways, we don’t see much of that here.
3. How Do the Supporting Characters Reflect Back Aspects of the Protagonist’s Relationship to the Thematic Principle?
As an extension of the antagonistic force’s role of contrasting and challenging the protagonist’s alignment to the thematic Truth, every other supporting character in the story should also comment upon the theme in some way.
Think of your overall theme as a big mirror smashed on the floor. The biggest chunk of glass is your protagonist. The second biggest is your antagonist. And every other shard represents every other character. They all reflect the theme. They all show a different piece of the big picture. Some reflect positively upon the theme; some reflect negatively. They all represent a different relationship to the Truth and the Lie.
If any character or plot device fails to reflect an aspect of the theme, that character or plot device is almost certainly failing, at least in part, to serve the story’s overall cohesion.
What this ultimately means is that every dialogue exchange, every minor character’s relationship to the protagonist, every minor character’s personal goal/ conflict—should comment upon the theme on every page of the story. This will not, of course, be blatant. The best stories present thematic weaves so complex it’s sometimes impossible for readers to immediately identify the thematic weft—but when it’s there, readers respond instinctively to the depth and consistency being presented.
Examining the Supporting Characters in Ant-Man and the Wasp
This movie’s biggest wasted opportunity was in its supporting characters and their relationship to the protagonist. Let’s particularly examine Hope. Had she either impacted Scott thematically or been impacted by him, the story would have instantly gained a ton of thematic resonance.
Yes, she “changes” by forgiving him in the end and deciding to let him be her crime-fighting partner. But those choices seem both inevitable and arbitrary.
If, instead, the plot had set Scott up with a primary thematic Truth that emphasized his generosity and compassion in risking his own well-being to help Hope and Hank, this would, in turn, have allowed Hope the opportunity to arc. She could have moved beyond her willingness to use Scott into a willingness to embrace his Truth by risking herself to help him protect his own family in the end.
4. How Could the Main Conflict Be Presented as a Metaphor for the Theme?
Theme at its best is both simple but deep, complex but subtle.
One of the single best ways to achieve this is to think of the entire story—the protagonist’s character arc and the events of the plot—as a metaphor for the theme.
My all-time favorite example of this is in Mamoru Hosoda’s Wolf Children. This story offers the high concept of a single mother secretly raising her half-werewolf children. It’s so high concept it just screams plot. The story itself never comments outright on its themes of parental sacrifice and struggle in the face of a child’s inevitable growth from complete reliance to clumsy independence.
And yet this is an incredibly thematic story. Everything in this story comments upon the universal struggle of raising, loving, and letting go of your children. It does it without ever feeling thematic. It never forces a message. It doesn’t have to, because everything about it is built to symbolize one cohesive idea.
Sometimes you may get your thematic idea first, from which you can then figure out the best plot to symbolize its inherent ideas. But usually, plot comes first. This is actually much trickier.
Take a look at the events you’ve constructed so far. Step way, way back.
What does this story look like from afar? Does it have a shape? Stripped of all the particulars of plot events and personalities—what is left? The stronger, the simpler, and the more cohesive the shape, the more opportunity you will have to create subtle depth.
Examining Thematic Metaphors in Ant-Man and the Wasp
If there’s any thematic shape at all to Ant-Man and the Wasp, it has to do with family—how far we’re willing to go to protect or rescue them and how much we’re willing to sacrifice.
In its simplest iteration, this movie is about Hope and Hank’s desperate gambit to rescue mother/wife Janet from her long imprisonment in the Quantum Realm. There are echoes of this thematic premise in Scott’s devotion to his daughter and even in rival scientist Bill Foster’s determination to save the life of his daughter-figure Ava/Ghost.
Together, these relationships all create some echo-y resonance within the sound chamber of the overall story. But that’s about it. Because the characters themselves have little to no interaction with a unifying theme, any parallels within the plot end up feeling more coincidental than anything.
Again, it’s a shame, because the pieces needed to create a more interesting and impactful thematic presentation are all there.
***
Theme is the transformative factor in any story. Learn how to harness it on every level of your story, and you will have created something wonderful.
Stay Tuned: In March, we’ll find out what we can learn from Captain Marvel about using good pacing tricks to keep an audience’s attention.
Previous Posts in This Series:
- Iron Man: Grab Readers With a Multi-Faceted Characteristic Moment
- The Incredible Hulk: How (Not) to Write Satisfying Action Scenes
- Iron Man II: Use Minor Characters to Flesh Out Your Protagonist
- Thor: How to Transform Your Story With a Moment of Truth
- Captain America: The First Avenger: How to Write Subtext in Dialogue
- The Avengers: 4 Places to Find Your Best Story Conflict
- Iron Man III: Don’t Make This Mistake With Your Story Structure
- Thor: The Dark World: How to Get the Most Out of Your Sequel Scenes
- Captain America: The Winter Soldier: Is This the Single Best Way to Write Powerful Themes?
- Guardians of the Galaxy: The #1 Key to Relatable Characters: Backstory
- Avengers: Age of Ultron: The Right Way and the Wrong Way to Foreshadow a Story
- Ant-Man: How to Choose the Right Antagonist for Your Story
- Captain America: Civil War: How to Be a Gutsy Writer: Stay True to Your Characters
- Doctor Strange: 3 Ways to Test Your Story’s Emotional Stakes
- Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2: How to Ace the First Act in Your Sequel
- Spider-Man: Homecoming: 4 Ways to Write a Thought-Provoking Mentor Character
- Thor: Ragnarok: How to Write Funny
- Black Panther: How the Truth Your Character Believes Defines Your Theme
- Avengers: Infinity War: 4 Ways to Write a Better Antagonist
Wordplayers, tell me your opinions! Can you think of any ways to choose a better theme for your book? Tell me in the comments!
Click the “Play” button to Listen to Audio Version (or subscribe to the Helping Writers Become Authors podcast in Apple Podcast or Amazon Music).
___
Why does everything have to be illustrated by referencing these ridiculous comic book ‘superhero’ characters that America seems smitten with?… Aren’t ‘real’ people capable of being interesting characters? Can’t human beings drive a plot anymore?… Is it the readers’ fault?… Do they now need everything spelled out for them, signposted by heroes and villains wearing appropriate ‘hero or villain’ fetish clothing?… or is it now considered too difficult to create a story without the easy get out of a ‘super power’ to beat the bad guy or save the day?
It’s a genre. It follows genre conventions. You’re free to enjoy the genre or not. 🙂
Hi, KMW, this is a little off topic but I have to say I had to stop reading because the gifs were so distracting. I love your analysis, they’ve been of great benefit, but the gifs? Not an asset. Hope your love affair with them ends soon.
Lee, sorry they were bothersome! I only use them in Marvel posts.
I’m going to intrude here, but I love the gifs! They bring dynamism since the posts have a lot of information. So, I think that’s just a personal choice 🙂
I love the gifs. I think they’re funny, and while they can be distracting, I think it makes an excellent post even more fun to read some times IMO.
Link blinking words, I too find the gifs distracting. Hate them too. Wish you could capture the sentiment a single image grab. Movement; (for me) interferes with reading and thinking.
I always so appreciate your lessons and breakdown of the Marvel Movies. The relationship of theme to plot and character arcs is always a juggling act- one I’m trying to get a better handle on. 🙂
This juggling act is one of the most fun in the whole biz!
I love how you keep pounding in theme again and again.
What really flabbergasts me is that Marvel hasn’t hired you as a story consultant yet. I mean, do they want to go under or something?
That’s a job I’d consider. 😉
Love this series! It could probably be renamed: Marvel Has Great Potential, BUT Here’s Where They Went Wrong and Messed Everything Up With the Exception of Civil War. 😉
I can’t wait to work through these questions as I edit my theme — there are a couple areas I went astray from thematic cohesion I need to work on, and this is perfect help. Thank you!
And Winter Soldier. Don’t forget Winter Soldier. 😀
Alternate title: Why the Russos (and Markus & McFeely) are Marvel’s Greatest Assets.
I won’t argue that. 🙂
The mirror! I get it! When you put the shards back together you get a whole mirror. And that mirror is a reflection of yourself! Right? Right?
Hah. I hadn’t taken the analogy that far, but I like that!
Part of the problem Marvel has is they haven’t committed themselves to female super heroes yet. The first Guardians of the Galaxy movie had the same problem: it was really Zamora’s movie, just as Ant-man and Wasp was Hope Van Dyne’s movie. (I haven’t seen Wonder Woman yet–yeah, sorry–so I don’t know how well DC deals with the same issue.) Maybe Ms. Marvel will be different, but watch to see if they torpedo her with some kind of guy.
Dang! “Gamora.”
Yeah, a big part of thematic resonance is choosing the right protagonist.
Well, this is a little much for me. And I didn’t see the movie. So there’s that. But the ideas sound right.
I’m struggling with theme in a work in progress. The book is good, and funny and smart in places, but I included extraneous pieces and characters not closely related to the theme, if I even have one. I think I have several, which is probably bad. I just sort of went with the idea of keeping the action going. The protagonist is a little loopy, and the theme wobbles as she wobbles. The book is all right, but there’s no clear DHM, our high school code for deep, hidden meaning. As in, “Yeah, I read the book for English, but I missed the DHM.” I tell myself I’ll do better next time.
Side note: Link in the email didn’t work for me. Had to come to site another way.
Deep Hidden Meaning. I like that. Kinda sums it all up.
I like the mirror analogy. What I immediately imagined was a bunch of people (characters) holding their shards of glass above their heads, to the ceiling. On the ceiling, in giant letters, is the Theme. But the theme is so big only tiny parts of it can be seen in the glass.
Or I could change that image to the characters lining up. All together they represent the Theme, but separated, they are only parts.
Nice! That, too, is a good extension of the analogy.
I’m not much of a movie or a Marvel fan. This is not a genre I watch or read. But I certainly agree with your writing advice. Too many books with no compelling theme or well-developed characters depend on plot and lots of action for reader attention. Once I read such a book the author has lost me to reading any more of his or her work.
What happens inside a character’s mind is just as important to me as what happens to the character in the plot. That is normally closely tied to the theme. I will never remember the details of a plot. I will remember the the characters I care about and what motivates them as they carry out the author’s theme. The great books have unforgettable characters and important themes you continue to grapple with long after the book is closed.
I’m forgetting who said it, but the quote stuck with me: “We don’t remember plot events, we remember moments.” It’s true.
I enjoy the MCU, but a lot of the films are hit and miss. Even the ones I love most like GOTG 2 and Doctor Strange either have structural flaws, forced humor, or extremely cookie-cutter character arcs. Still, I think they do have a lot of interesting characters and worlds.
I agree with all of this. One problem I have had with my own stories is my tendency to pick the wrong protagonist. I try to go with every-man types, but they end up being peripheral to the main narrative as well as total bores compared to my more colorful supporting cast.
This is yet another reason I love outlining–it lets me figure out my plot (including the lynch pin of the Climactic Moment), so I can be sure which character is best set up as the protagonist, before I start nailing everything into stone in the first draft.
Okay, I should admit that I liked the movie first (please don’t throw stones), but…
Isn’t the theme ‘misdirection.’ It’s all through the movie, and stressed by the frequent references to magic tricks. [Note: I’m not saying it’s the strongest theme.]
Misdirection applies to Scott’s guilt too. He keeps being pulled in different direction than where he’s going. When he’s saving Hope’s mom and trying to make up for ruining their lives, he messes up by tell Luis his location. When trying to save his company (and friends’ jobs) he makes mistakes because he’s busy trying to keep out of jail to be with his daughter.
Guilt due to failing at all three is driving his actions. It isn’t until after his father/daughter talk that he’s reborn (it’s too strong a word, but I can’t think of another) as a hero again–because she gives him permission to worry about one thing.
Even Scott’s fight with ghost isn’t about fighting her. It’s about misdirection–keeping her busy until Hank fires up the tunnel.
Could the movie have been better? Sure. Could the theme have been stronger? Probably. But I didn’t mind the fractured focus.
That’s an interesting take. I’ll have to think about that a little. However, I think, in itself, it’s still not well realized within the overall story.
And, yeah, no stones. There’s still a lot to enjoy here. 🙂
Another magnificent post and, for me, right on time!
Thanks for reading! 🙂
Thank you – that’s the best explanation of theme I’ve seen – really helps me put all the pieces together.
Cool beans! 🙂 Happy writing!
I’m not sure I’ve said it but thank you so much for this series of articles. Reading about these concepts in the abstract is useful but actually being able to pick apart how they work (or don’t work!) in a movie makes things a lot clearer. In fact, lately after going to a movie I’ve been encouraging my friends not just to complain about what they didn’t like but to talk about how they’d fix it…it makes for a more interesting conversation!
But it’s interesting in this movie how they went out of their way to set up parallels and then didn’t really use them. The “I’d sacrifice anything for my child/parent” concept popped up a few times, but it was always kind of siloed within each family unit so there was never any resonance in the story. But looking back on it there was one funny little bit that resonated more than I expected it to and now I can see it was because it resonated with the theme: the bit where Bill Foster allowed the tied-up Scott to answer his “911” call from his daughter Cassie. It humanized Foster, but now I see that his acknowledging Scott’s concern as a parent reflected his own father-type relationship with Ava/Ghost and paid service to the theme. I can imagine how much better the movie would have been if there had been more moments like that!
Ah, you’re right! I hadn’t particularly considered the “911” moment. But you’re right, it’s a great moment of resonance.
Actually, now that I think about it, that’s a very interesting little scene thematically because Scott is genuinely concerned about his daughter’s safety, and Foster responds. But a minute later, Hank and Hope play on that goodwill as a ploy when Hank fakes his heart attack and Hope pleads for Foster to get his medicine. I think that’s symptomatic of what bothered me about Hank and Hope in the movie…I fully believed that they’d sacrifice much to get Janet back, but they seemed pretty dismissive of anybody else’s familial connections. Just like you said, I kept waiting for a moment at the end where Hope would have to make a sacrifice to help Scott protect his family, so it was disappointing when it never came.
Yeah, all the good stuff was right there. It just wasn’t utilized.
I think I have nothing to say except thank you for this! It came at the right time! I have plot, theme, and character arcs pretty much figured out for my current story (something I have to retroactively thank you for), and it is… okay. But there were some problem areas having to do with cohesion (and the subsequent organic treatment of the theme), that I couldn’t quite identify or decide what to do about.
Well, now I know! It’ll take a complete reimagining of my protagonist’s characteristic moment, so as to better represent her relationship with the truth, and maybe some serious reconsideration about what some of my characters’ story roles are, but now at least I have some specific questions to ask myself instead of a vague sensation that something doesn’t quite fit. So thanks for that!
That’s great! I absolutely love that moment when something that’s been frustratingly unclear in a story a suddenly comes through. It’s happy dance time! 😀
Katie –
Thank you again for this series on storytelling.
Although I am not a fan of the “comic book” action movie genre, I now have a much better understanding of the interaction between character, plot, and theme. As well as how to identify whether the requisite continuity of these elements is present in a story. Complex stuff at times. Your analysis makes it easier to breakdown and critique all these components. I will return to this series often while my WiP evolves.
After watching Finding Forrester last night for the first time in years, then reading your post today, I am re-energized and motivated to dig deeper into writing my novel.
Thanks girl!
FYI – I like the GIF’s and humorous dialogue…it adds a little extra pizazz to your post. Particularly since I am a very visual person.
I still need to see Finding Forrester. Thanks for the reminder!
I thought Scott Lang was on a positive Flat Character arc, because his story was essentially that he wanted to be a Hero, his daughter wanted him to be a Hero, but the FBI put constraints on him and insisted he didn’t be a hero. So he had to decide between what he wanted and how the world wanted to change him. His impact character was his daughter, and what she wanted overruled everyone else.
Yeah, I can see that. Actually, in retrospect, I think that’s probably exactly what the filmmakers were going for. But, again, I still think it’s a pretty blase treatment of theme. The movie might have been a bazillion times better had it been better emphasized and integrated.
I feel like a better theme always comes and smacks me across the face after I’ve read one of your post about it, LOL. Of course, it’s already THERE I just need to treat it with tender loving care. I find that looking to the characters I love the most regardless of if they’re the protagonist or minor character is always a good place to hunt for a theme. They’re doing something I love, I just need to figure out what it is and how it can or does tie back to the main plot.
Yes! This is a great point. There’s always a reason our hearts and our interest is drawn to particular characters. Thematic power is often a big part of it.
At each post I find something that must to be fixed in my novel. Thank you!
Hah. Glad you’re finding them useful! Happy editing. 🙂
Thank you! This post came at a perfect time for my WIP.
Yay for good timing!
This is really golden. Thank you so much. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but what you have here is prolly why many stories/movies leave me feeling meh. They lack cohesive theme. This will help me piece my story together thru a different lens now, and I appreciate how you broke this down.
Yep, this is my biggest beef with recent movie fare. This one “little” tweak could up the game for hundreds of stories.
I’m still trying to figure out what my theme would be. I know what’s going on and all that, but I’m not sure if my theme in my fantasy novel is about friendship or being okay with different situations.
It’s definitely possible to deal with both in a complementary way. But to identify your main theme, look at which is most important to the protagonist’s success in the Climax.
Yeah, makes sense. Though Sky is stranded on a planet where dragons exit, and magic is real.
Very helpful mirror analogy, that speaks to me quite well. Thanks for this though, all helping me to piece together lots of ideas and focus for when I crack on with my fiction novel. Although, as I’ve said a lot fits with other types of written work even if more informative.
I think my theme for my fiction is ‘Hope’ but I’m not sure if that is officially a theme. I tried to sit back and see that Hope comes up quite strong for all the characters, especially for the main protagonist, his family and how the current baddies do threaten hope, but also how beliefs about ourselves threaten hope.
Does that work or is theme something else or more specific? Just trying to get my head around it.
Theme at its broadest within a story is usually a one-word concept, such as “hope.” From there you can narrow it into a specific thematic premise by focusing on the specific Lie and Truth that are at the heart of the plot’s conflict.
Well thats a good start. What posts do you have covering thematic premise? I think im trying to focus on my main protags lie, but its the circumstances of the plot which forces him to challenge that lie or lose his family. Just debating whether to make the main protagonist the obvious baddies or his family background.
Check out these posts:
Is This the Single Best Way to Write Powerful Themes?
How to Create a Complex Moral Argument for Your Theme
How the Truth Your Character Believes Defines Your Theme
What’s the Difference Between Your Story’s Theme and Its Message?
Cool thanks.
My pleasure!
I always enjoy your thoughtful insights–very analytical. Also it’s nice to have the material in readable and audible format.
If it is you on the audio version–you have a very nice voice–well modulated–and pleasant.
Thanks very much. 🙂
Nice article. Themes are a big deal in my WIP.
“How Is the Antagonistic Force a Direct Challenge to the Protagonist’s Relationship to the Theme?”
In my WIP, the Antagonist’s challenges help the Protagonist to discover the Theme(s), touching on Truth, Freedom, and other topics. The Antagonist seems evil at first, but his morality becomes less certain as the Theme(s) come into focus. He’s still the Antagonist at the end, but the reader is left with lingering questions. Not sure if that’s a good resolution. Probably good for a sequel, though.
Good stuff. “Antagonist” is a morally neutral term. The only true role of the antagonist is a story is as someone/thing that presents obstacles to the protagonist’s plot goals.