Some stories stay

In his book Save the Cat, Hollywood screenwriting guru, Blake Snyder, writes about a moment of hesitation in the hero’s journey. The moment takes place at the end of Act I. Snyder terms it The Debate.

Here, the hero asks if he’s really going ahead with this crazy voyage. Once the hero embarks on the journey (and he always does otherwise there wouldn’t be a film), there’s no going back.

One of the most perfect portrayals of The Debate is in Pixar’s Ratatouille.

The sequence takes place when Remy is sulking in the sewers beneath Paris after being chased from his rat colony in the French countryside. Remy has just been hurled down the wild rapids of the sewer with his Gusteau cookbook.  

The Debate section of a story is also called the point of no return – Remy can’t go back upriver.  

A key characteristic of The Debate is a tendency for the hero to overthink. Why is this? The answer becomes more evident if we consider things from a psychoanalytical perspective. In this period of waiting, reflection and uncertainty, it feels as if the conscious mind of the hero is catching up with the subconscious mind.

The conscious mind needs a while to take stock of the unconscious forces that led it here. Until this moment, Remy really hasn’t been in control of his journey – there has been no voluntary input on his part. His rat colony was evacuated in an instant of random chaos. His whole life has been turned upside down.

The symbolic nature of the river is important here. Taken by the current, Remy’s transportation was involuntary. Involuntary forces transported and deposited him, a metaphor for the subconscious forces that compel us on so many of our journeys. It’s therefore only natural for the hero to take stock of the situation.

Remy in the sewer (Ratatouille, 2007)

During The Debate, the hero will almost always encounter a benevolent guide who will compel him on his journey. In Ratatouille this takes the form of Chef Gusteau’s ghost.

“If you are hungry, go up and look around, Remy,” says Gusteau. “If you focus on what you’ve left behind you will never be able to see what lies ahead.”

On Gusteau’s advice, Remy begins his journey through Paris.

I’m currently reading Dante’s Inferno. A similar moment takes place in the first couple of Cantos.

In Canto 1, Dante meets his guide and mentor, Virgil. In Canto 2, before descending into the underworld, Dante hesitates. He is fearful, he doubts himself. He compares himself to great figures of the past – ‘I am not Aeneas,’ he says, ‘I am not St Paul’ – questioning his own fortitude for such a perilous descent.

The text reads:

And just as he who unwills what he wills
and shifts what he intends to seek new ends
so that he’s drawn from what he had begun,

so was I in the midst of that dark land,
because, with all my thinking, I annulled
the task I had so quickly undertaken.

Dante is unwilling what he willed. His overthinking, like Remy’s overthinking in the sewer, is eating away at the possibility of what lies ahead. Here’s that conflict between the subconscious and conscious minds again. Dante undertook his task ‘quickly’, driven by subconscious planes of thought, without proper conscious reflection. He therefore needs a moment to really consider what he’s undertaking.

Dante meets Virgil (illustration by Gustave Doré, 1857)

Virgil, a more severe guide than Remy’s Gusteau, addresses Dante:

“If I have understood what you have said,
[…]
your soul has been assailed by cowardice,

which often weighs so heavily on a man–
distracting him from honorable trials–
as phantoms frighten beasts when shadows fall.”

Virgil accuses Dante of cowardice. A final push is needed to spur Dante on. This comes in the form of Beatrice, Dante’s long lost love. Behind Virgil’s support for Dante’s quest, there is another divine power at play. We hear Beatrice’s voice.

For I am Beatrice who send you on;
I come from where I most long to return;
Love prompted me, that Love which makes me speak.

At the end of Canto 2 Dante’s weary courage surges again. Like Remy into Paris, he sets off anew.

It’s interesting to consider why some stories fall out of public consciousness and others do not. Dante’s The Divine Comedy is undoubtedly in the latter camp. I think this has something to do with a writer’s respect for mythological structures like those discussed above. Story patterns are important because they mirror the patterns in human life; that’s why we’re so drawn to these stories. I think Pixar has also mastered such storytelling.

After the demise of America’s empire, whenever this takes place, I think people will look back on its culture with fondness. Just as Ancient Greek theatre is still venerated, Hollywood will assume its own special place in the history of storytelling. And within this, I think Pixar will be studied as the pinnacle of its form, for its simplicity and respect for mythological structures.

Beyond Pixar, I also think the Marvel film series will assume a similar place in the history of storytelling. Although I’m not a huge fan, there’s no doubt that these stories are American myths or folklore. Just as all cultures have their respective myths and legends – The Divine Comedy being a compilation of those of Europe, for instance – the Marvel series will forever provide a window onto the American psyche over that period of history.

It’s also fascinating to consider how the Marvel series has evolved over time and what this evolution tells us about the changes in American society. Captain America (2011), for instance, one of the earlier Marvel movies, was all about American dominance and superiority of a particularly masculine variety. But gradually over time, the Marvel series has absorbed more modern culture. In the latest Thor movie, Thor: Love and Thunder, for instance, I remember an image of Chris Hemsworth from the trailer. Traditionally an archetype of masculine perfection, Hemsworth’s character was stripped naked and strung up by a group of women. The symbolic nature of this should not be underestimated – out with traditional masculine role models, in with the feminine. Out with the patriarchy, in with the matriarchy.

Stories carry culture. The how and why of this process usually only becomes evident in retrospect.

Plot points such as The Debate never go away. They are continually reused and repurposed under different cultural guises, from Dante’s 14^th century Divine Comedy, to Pixar and Marvel’s 21^st century creations.