After watching Best Picture nominee Minari, I came away feeling like it was almost a great movie. It is a character-driven movie that relies on the challenges facing the various relationships to build drama. A couple of these relationships effectively hit the mark, but this is a movie that fell into the trap of writer/director Lee Isaak Chung putting characters into difficult situations and then easily and quickly extricating them from those situations. This severely hampered the amount of drama that he was able to build. In fact, almost from the moment the films started, we, as the audience, were being set up for a very dramatic story that was never manifested.

This is a story of a family of Korean immigrants who leave the stifling dead-end jobs of California in search of a better life farming their own land in Arkansas in the 1980’s. The family’s patriarch, Jacob (Steven Yeun) dreams of becoming a successful farmer growing Korean vegetables in the rich Arkansas soil. His wife, Monica (Yeri Han) is less than optimistic that this venture will work and is not happy with their new living conditions. Their young son David (Alan Kim) has a heart condition that prevents him from being able to run or exert himself in any way, and could kill him at any moment. Their daughter Anne (Noel Kate Cho) is at that awkward age of becoming a teenager and wants to be near friends.

They struggle at first with their new living arrangements, and have to work at a chicken sorting plant to make ends meat. But with no one to watch the kids, Monica’s mother, Soonja (Yuh-Jung Youn) moves in with them. She’s not your typical grandmother. She doesn’t cook and she likes to gamble at cards. She sleeps on the floor of David’s room, and their relationship is an awkward one at the start. However, David’s mischievous ways soon endear him to his grandmother, and their relationship grows in a heartwarming way. Soonja has a mischievous streak of her own and she leads the children into the woods one day, even though the kids aren’t allowed to be in there. There, she finds a creek that she declares is the perfect place to grow minari, which can be used as food, medicine and many other things.

I can’t say enough how impressive Chung was in building the relationship between David and Soonja. It starts off with both being antagonistic towards the other. But as they realize they have more in common with each other, their differences are slowly melted away and they form a bond that would have been unthinkable when Soonja was introduced. What’s more, Chung did this in an organic way that didn’t feel forced. There were moments of levity at every stage of the relationship’s development that brought humor to the story. That did two things. It made the characters likable and it allowed us to root for their relationship to grow and flourish.

On the flip side of that coin is the relationship between Jacob and Monica. They love each other as husband and wife, but the combined stress of being immigrants in the United States, having a son with potentially deadly heart condition, and the financial problems their experiencing are staining their relationship perhaps to a point beyond repair. Monica wants to move back to California. Even though they weren’t making much money, at least it was steady and they could live near a hospital. Jacob, however, is also feeling the strain of being an inadequate husband, father and provider for his family. He stubbornly wants to hold on to the farm and goes so far as to choose it over saving his family.

The dynamic between those two relationships should have been have been enough to craft a dramatic story around. Combine that with the fact that their an Asian immigrant family living in Arkansas in the 1980’s and this should be a very dramatic story filled with tension, potential heartbreak and ultimate redemption. Unfortunately, none of that happened because as good as Chung was at building relationships, he was lacking in following through on dramatic situations. It was as though he didn’t want to see his characters suffer too much. I have heard that this is an autobiographical story. That makes sense, because it’s easy to tell that he was too close to the characters. He would put them in potentially dramatic situations but diffuse any chance of any real conflict or drama happening almost as soon as they started.

That’s why this was almost a great movie. There were times where Chung took the story right to the edge of being very dramatic. He had given himself all of the ingredients for a dramatic situation. It would take just one more step to create that conflict and drama and then he pulled back before crossing the event horizon. He did this time and again throughout the film.

Looking at the racial component alone, there are several missed opportunities. This is an Asian family living in Arkansas in the 1980’s and if we’re being honest, they should have experienced significant racism, but they experienced practically none. The only time they get close to experiencing it is in a scene where they go to church and a little white boy asks David why his face is so flat. David says it isn’t and the boy shrugs it off and invites him to his house for a sleep over. Meanwhile Anne meets a little white girl who thinks she’s speaking an Asian language, but is only speaking gibberish. These microaggressions are borne out of ignorance and curiosity. There’s no malice there. Then in a later scene, David is having a sleep over at the boy’s house, and his father is there. The father is full-on redneck, and it’s totally reasonable to think that he’d get angry at the thought of an Asian boy sleeping in his house and eating his food. Nope. He’s totally cool to David and tells him to make sure he helps his daddy.

There’s another scene where Jacob is at a bank applying for a loan. The very nice white banker tells him he can have all he needs and not to be afraid to come back if he needs more.

What?!

Where is the drama? Where is the tension? It’s nonexistent.

And I don’t know about you, but if it’s made clear at the beginning of a movie that a cute and likable little boy has a heart defect, then it’s reasonable to expect that something really bad is going to happen to that boy. Think Thomas J from My Girl. We learn early in that film that he’s allergic to bee stings. What happens later in the movie? He walks through a beehive and gets stung so much that he dies. I kept waiting for David’s heart condition to become a source of drama. There were some false starts where it looked like it would, but it was ultimately nothing more than a MacGuffin in a movie filled with MacGuffins.

This is important because the lifeblood of any dramatic story is the obstacle. As a writer or director, you need to put obstacles in front of your main characters that they must overcome in order for the story to move forward. Too many times in this movie are the characters confronted with obstacles that just kind of go away or end up not being obstacles at all.

Minari is a feel-good movie that doesn’t follow through on its dramatic moments and situations. I find it a bit head scratching that it was nominated for Best Picture because it’s ultimately a frustrating movie that doesn’t fully deliver on its promise.

I finally got around to watching Sound of Metal and I found it to be a compelling and riveting story. There was nary an explosion to be found. No gunshots. No car chases. No breakneck action sequences. It was a slow, mostly quiet, deliberately paced story and I could not look away from it. You might ask, how could this be? How could a film with such a dearth of action and violence be so interesting in today’s movie environment? The answer is that it was a well-crafted, well-constructed story that had the solid foundation of a compelling and exquisitely executed Hero’s Journey.

What makes that statement all the more remarkable is that The Sound of Metal, as least after one viewing, skips a couple of key stages. There appears to be no Approach or Supreme Ordeal, and yet there is definitely a midway point in Act II where you can see the story changing direction from Act IIA and Act IIB. It’s a tad jarring, but it still works for this movie. Director Darius Marder also wrote the screenplay with cowriter Abraham Marder and what they did was create an Ordinary World and a Special World that both fit the classical definition of the Hero’s Journey by showing not only how the hero changes, but how his experience in the Special World changes, and how his journey changes his perception of each world.

There may not be any car chases, but the hero is chasing something throughout the entire film.

The hero of this story is Ruben (Riz Ahmed), a drummer in a heavy metal band with his girlfriend, Lou (Olivia Cook). Ruben’s Ordinary World shows him and Lou living in an RV that acts as a recording studio and rehearsal space. Their gigs are at small venues and they play so loud and with so much distortion that it’s almost impossible to understand the lyrics that Lou sings. Ruben is a recovering addict who’s covered in tattoos and has bleached his hair. Lou is barely holding on. She compulsively scratches her arm and her clothes and hair are a mess. They love each other, but this is a lifestyle that neither of them can sustain.

The inciting incident happens when Ruben starts to notice that he’s losing his hearing. This is devastating for a drummer in a Metal band, so he sees a doctor who tells him that it’s going to get worse. He could get surgical implants that could potentially save his hearing, but that would cost between $40K and $80K. Then during a gig, he realizes he can’t hear and he gets up and walks out, eventually confessing his condition to Lou.

Here’s where the script finds its drama. The most compelling stories are the ones that pit what a character wants versus what that character needs. In Sound of Metal, Ruben wants to regain his hearing. What he needs is to find the peace within himself to accept his new reality. This comes to light when he receives his Call to Adventure. Lou finds out about a place that might be able to help him, but it’s in a different way than Ruben expects. It’s a home for the hearing impaired, and this is where Ruben experiences the Meeting with the Mentor. The mentor in this case is Joe (Paul Raci), the kindly man who runs the home. He’s also deaf and also a recovering addict. In classic mythology, the mentor often offers the hero some magical gift or provides the hero with his initial call to adventure. Joe, in archetypal fashion, does both. He offers Ruben the opportunity to live in the home and learn how to live as a hearing impaired person. Ruben, however, Refuses the Call because he sees himself as broken and he wants to be fixed.

It is Lou, however, who finally pushes Ruben to Cross the First Threshold. She tells him that he has to do this, and she makes arrangements to go home to her father. A car comes to pick her up, and they share an emotional good bye. After she leaves in the car, Ruben tearfully walks back to the RV, looking back at the car a couple of times as it drives Lou away.

Ruben leaves the Ordinary World and Crosses the Threshold to the Special World of the adventure when he moves into the home. As a part of the Tests, Allies and Enemies stage of the journey, he has to give up his cell phone and the keys to the RV as a condition of living there. He’s also tested by the fact that everyone else there knows sign language and he does not, making him feel even more like an outsider. He literally does not understand this world or the people in it, and he fails every test laid before him.

Here’s where as a director, Darius Marder showed his chops. The pacing of the second act is brilliant. Ruben slowly learns how to navigate in this new world. He slowly learns the language. He slowly accepts kindness from the people in it, and then he starts to return that kindness. He finds a home in the Special World, but he still doesn’t want to be there. He still wants his hearing back. This is shown through an exercise that Joe gives to Ruben. He instructs Ruben to go to his study early every morning and just sit and be quiet. If he feels the need to do something, he should write. It doesn’t matter what. Just write. But Ruben can’t just sit and be quiet. He has an insatiable desire to keep moving and to lash out. It’s beyond his power at the moment to accept the peace that silence brings.

Act IIB shows Ruben taking some initiative to get his hearing back. He sells all of his recording equipment and the RV, and that gets him enough money to get the surgery. In an interesting bookend to Lou’s departure, the RV pulls away down the road, and he walks away in the other direction, showing no emotion and never looking back. He gets the surgery and can hear again, but it’s not the same. It’s tinny and sounds like a radio that’s having difficulty finding the signal. He tells Joe that he got the surgery and asks Joe for some financial help, but Joe refuses. He tells Ruben that he hopes he finds happiness, but this house is for people who don’t feel broken by being deaf, and he needs to move out right away.

Act III has Ruben on The Road Back and returning to the Ordinary World, but it’s different and he’s different. In his Resurrection, he’s cropped his hair short, symbolic of the inner change he’s experienced, and he goes to find Lou at her father’s house. He’s welcomed in, but Lou is different. She’s cut her hair as well, and she’s wearing nicer clothes. She’s also stopped scratching her arm, and she looks much healthier than she did before. Ruben is invited to a party at the house and he notices that the implants cause him to hear everything at the same level. He can hear everything the same, so he really still can’t hear anything. He later talks to Lou about getting back out on the road, but the thought of that gets her to start scratching her arm again and Ruben finally accepts the fact that his world will never be the same. The Return With the Elixir shows him leaving the next morning. He experiences the same overwhelming sound as he walks through the city. He hears everyone’s voice. He hears every ambient sound. Finally a bell in a clocktower gets him to turn off his implants and everything goes silent. Then, for the first time, he actually sees the world. He sees its silent beauty and he finds the peace that has eluded him.

What makes this Hero’s Journey so effective is the clear difference between the Ordinary World before Ruben goes to the Special World and after he emerges. He can hear again, but it’s not the same. He sees Lou again, but she’s changed. In fact, the Special World changed Ruben as well. He looks different with his implants sticking out of his ears and his cropped hair. But he’s changed on the inside as well, as represented by the different way he hears. He can’t go back to the way he was. The old world is gone and it’s never coming back. The old Ruben is dead and new Ruben has been resurrected in his place.

The only thing for him to do is to embrace the new person that he is and the new world in which he lives.

There is one other thing that I need to briefly touch on about Sound of Metal that doesn’t really have anything to do with the screenplay, but has everything to do with the story, and that is the sound. I’ve always been a proponent of the notion that sound is half of your film. It’s an unappreciated concept that is often taken for granted by the audience. But because the primary relationship in this movie was between the main character and sound, sound takes a large role in this film. There are the obvious times when the mix is done in such a way as to represent Ruben’s hearing loss, but there’s something else. Watch the film again and listen for the ambient sound. When they’re at the house, you can hear the wind blowing, You can hear birds chirping. All of that is brought way up in the mix, allowing the audience to hear what the characters cannot. It’s a huge part of the movie that should not be missed.

The first thing I’ll say about Onward is that the whole thing feels rushed. PIXAR’s movies over the last several years have been pretty formulaic. As much as that formula has worked, both critically and commercially, it feels like PIXAR has painted themselves into a little bit of a corner, and Onward suffers for it. It felt like the filmmakers were trying to cram every last little bit of planting into the film so that we could get the emotional payoff that we’ve all come to expect from them.

Certainly, no one pulls at the heart strings like PIXAR does, and they were successful again in this film. However, it falls short of recent successes like Coco, because it lacks the subtlety that that film had. This one beats you over the head with exposition, and starts off at 90 MPH with little let up. Everything happens fast, from the dialogue to the action. The actors’ delivery of the dialogue feels like it’s playing at 125% speed, especially Chris Pratt as Barley, Julia Louis-Dreyfus as Laurel and Octavia Spencer as The Manticore. There are a couple of times when the pace slows down, like when Ian writes his lists or when Ian meets his father’s old college friend, but even those scenes do little more than allow us to catch our breath. They don’t let the story breathe, and that’s what’s missing from Onward. It’s fun. It’s entertaining. It tugs at the heartstrings. But it needs to breathe. It needs to allow the audience to soak in what it’s trying to tell us.

A perfect example of when they did was during the climactic scene of the movie. I’m not going to give any spoilers, but suffice it to say that Director Dan Scanlon finally did let the movie breathe in this crucial moment, which is ironic because he gave the movie a ticking clock and the clock is about to run out during the climax. But they let us hang. They gave us an extremely emotional beat and they let us experience it for as long as we could, and it worked brilliantly. The last 20 minutes saved this movie, and that’s not the first time I’ve ever said that about a PIXAR film.

The problem was the getting to those last 20 minutes. Another issue that the vast majority of PIXAR films have had over the last decade and a half is that they tend to be road movies. The hero goes on a physical journey, and many of these journeys have been episodic with no real flow to the narrative. They did avoid that trap in this film, although barely. The film is still episodic, but at least there’s a flow to the story. For example, I always felt the problem with Finding Nemo was that you could have taken all of the individual adventures that Marlin and Dory had in that film and changed the order of them and it wouldn’t have changed anything about the order. One adventure didn’t lead organically into the other. In Onward they didn’t have that issue in such a pronounced way. Ian and Barley do have a series of individual adventures, but the filmmakers did a better job in this film of making sure that one adventure led into the next one. The reason for that is that the film as a clear, even if somewhat weak, Hero’s Journey. Warning! Spoilers ahead!

Ordinary World

In a prologue, we learn that this is a world in which magic used to exist, but it was replaced by technology, and now all magic has been forgotten. We meet the Lightfoot family, including Ian (Tom Holland) and his brother Barley (Chris Pratt) and their mother Laurel (Julia Louis-Dreyfus). We learn that Ian is timid and has few friends and that Barley is holding on to his belief in magic and a desire to live in those olden days. We also learn that their father died before Ian was born and Barley only as three memories of him.

Call to Adventure

Laurel shows them the wizard staff that their father left for them, along with a Phoenix Gem and the words to a spell that could bring him back to life for one day. Barley can’t get the spell to work but Ian can. Unfortunately, Barley messes it up half way through and their Dad only comes back from the waist down. With the Phoenix Stone disintegrated, Barley wants to go on a quest to find another one before their Dad disappears forever in 24 hours with the next day’s sunset.

Refusal of the Call

A very short and very weak refusal by Ian lasts only a couple of lines, but he’s soon as excited about the quest as his brother.

Crossing the First Threshold

The load up in Barley’s van, Guinevere, and are off on their quest.

Tests, Allies and Enemies

Ian tries to learn to do magic, but fails at first. They arrive at the Maniticore’s Tavern in order to find the map to the Phoenix Gem. Expecting a magical tavern filled with hoards of rough adventurers longing for their next adventure, they find at a Chuck E. Cheese. They enrage the Manticore and she sets the tavern on fire, burning the map, but giving Ian an opportunity to use the magic he couldn’t before. Even though they don’t have the map, they find a children’s menu that has a clue to find the gem at Raven’s Point. Barley wants to take the Path of Peril, but Ian convinces him to take the Expressway. After running out of gas, they piss off some pixie bikers, but Ian has to drive to get them away. The final test shows Barley finding out that Ian thinks he’s a screw up when they have a run in with a couple of police officers, and he refuses to talk to him. Then they have a dance party with their Dad before deciding to go the way that Barley wanted to go originally.

Approach

On the Path or Peril, they come to a bottomless pit that they need to use magic to get across it. But here is where Ian starts to gain confidence that he can do this. It’s an archetypal moment that borrows heavily from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (believing in the bridge) and Dumbo (Barley’s rope substituting for the magic feather). They get across the chasm and see a Raven statue pointing to clues.

Supreme Ordeal

Colt Bronco sows up to stop them from going any father. A chase ensues, with Ian driving, A character shift has happened with him now. But they find themselves trapped, and when Ian is unable to do the necessary magic, Barley has to sacrifice Guinevere in order for them to be able to continue. All she leaves behind is a tail light that looks a lot like a Phoenix Stone.

Reward

They keep following Ravens until they get to a river that flows through a cave. Ian uses magic to turn a cheese puff into a raft that they take down the river. Ian starts to show some real skill with the magic and the brothers have a bonding moment. Barley reveals another memory of being too scared of their Dad when he was sick and hooked up to all of the tubes and he didn’t look like himself, so he wasn’t able to say good bye to him. That’s when he decided to never be scared again.

The Road Back

They get to another tunnel and need to avoid a series of Booby traps (more Indians Jones). They finally escape, but the escape leads them out a manhole cover that brings them back to their home town right outside the high school.

Resurrection

It looks like they won’t get to fully resurrect their Dad, and Ian thinks that Barley screwed it up his one chance to meet his father. He leaves Barley with the staff and walks away with Dad’s legs. He then goes through the list of all of the things that he wanted to do with his Dad and realizes that he already did all of those things with Barley, and Barley has been the only father to him that he’s really needed. But then, Barley finds the gem in an ancient fountain in town and they’re able to restart the spell. However, it unleashes a curse in the form of a Dragon. While Ian uses magic to defeat the curse, Barley is able to meet their father. Ian watches from a distance as Barley is able to get the closure that he never had before. Their father then disappears. Barley tells Ian that their Dad is proud of the person Ian grew up to be and Ian gives Barley the credit. Barley then gives a hug from their Dad.

Return With the Elixir

Magic is back in the world. Ian teaches people that with a little bit of magic, we can accomplish anything. He has friends now, and Barley has Guinevere the Second, and the brothers take it on another quest.

Overall, Onward has a decent structure and it pushes all of the emotional buttons that PIXAR is generally successful in pushing. However, the story isn’t told with the usual polish of the best PIXAR films. While it isn’t as bad as The Good Dinosaur or Cars 3, it’s nowhere near as good as Coco or The Indredibles or Toy Story 2. It’s definitely somewhere in between. If you’re a fan of PIXAR, you’re sure to be a fan of this film. If you’re not, you’ll probably be left wanting.

Anyone who follows this blog knows that I am a stickler for story structure. When I evaluate scripts, especially for new and/or undiscovered writers, I make it a point to pay particular attention to the structure of the story and note whether that changes in acts are happening in the right places. My thinking is that when you’re an unknown commodity, you need to demonstrate that you can follow the rules before people will trust you to break them. Sam Mendes is obviously at the point where he can break them, because 1917 broke many of the rules of conventional screenwriting, and yet it got made and became one of the most popular and successful films of 2019. However, even though it did not really follow the typical 3-Act structure, the script still works because it follows a very definite Hero’s Journey.

On one of my social media feeds a person commented that 1917 was nothing more than a glorified video game. We followed the characters through a series of levels having to confront a series of Bosses. When they defeated that level’s Boss, they leveled up and moved on to the next level and the next Boss. Sure it was entertaining and intense, the poster admitted, but it was a video game, not a movie.

You’ll also know, if you follow this blog, that I’m not a fan of Road Movies for the very reasons listed above. I’ve never articulated it that way, but many of those principles apply to why I’m not a fan of that style of storytelling. The stories are often episodic and you can often change the order of the episodes and not change the movie’s story at all.

That is where I part ways with the poster about 1917. Yes, it is a road movie, and on the surface the argument could be made that it’s an episodic story. However, you could not change the order in which they occur. This story follows a definite path which creates a definite arc for the Hero, and that is the big difference in 1917. Or, as the poster pointed out, the characters are doing nothing more than defeating whatever Boss is in front of them and then moving on to the next level. I would like to respectfully disagree and point out that if you break the story down to its Hero’s Journey components you would see that nothing could be farther from the truth. Even though the characters go on a journey, and this is an episodic story, the screenplay provides plenty of examples of quality storytelling and we have a through line that road movies are often missing. This through line provides the spine for the story and shows us that the movie works as a continuous story rather than the episodes that make it up.

For your consideration, here is a breakdown of the Hero’s Journey components in the film 1917.

Ordinary World – We meet Lance Corporal Blake (Dean-Charles Chapman) and Lance Corporal Schofield (George McKay) as they’re resting on a short leave. A Staff Sergeant kicks Blake awake and tells him he’s to report to the general and to bring a friend. He taps Schofield and the two of them go back to the trenches to the General’s quarters.

Call to Adventure – Once they’ve arrived, they’re informed by General Erinmore (Colin Firth) that a major assault is planned because the Germans have baited the 2^nd Devers into a trap, and that the attack will fail and that Blake’s brother, who’s a member of that regiment, will be killed along with the other 1600 men he’s with. They get orders to get to the 2^nd Devers and bring a letter to Col. Mackenzie ordering him to call off the attack, which is planned for just after dawn the next day. That gives the characters a ticking clock, which will come into play almost immediately, and will stay with us throughout the film.

Refusal of the Call – Schofield shows some reluctance thinking the Germans will be waiting for them. Then he wants to talk to Blake about it because he wants to at least wait until it’s dark. Blake, however, is only thinking of his brother and wants to move out right away. The surveillance says that the Germans have withdrawn so they should be able to cross No Man’s Land, but Schofield isn’t convinced and Blake recklessly rambles ahead.

Meeting the Mentor – The first of many, Lt. Leslie gives them instructions on how to get across No Man’s Land. Like the Archetypal Mentors of old, he gives them a gift to help them on their journey in the form of flare guns to fire off if they make it to the other side.

Crossing the First Threshold – Generally the beginning of Act II, it happens early in this film, just under 17 minutes in. They climb the ladders from the trenches and into No Man’s Land. They have left the Ordinary World and relative safety of the Trenches behind, and are now in the Special World of No Man’s Land and whatever dangers lie beyond.

Tests, Allies & Enemies – They start across No Man’s Land. The Markers that Lt. Leslie gave them are there. They make it to the German lines, dodging barbed wire, trenches and scout planes. They make it to the German trenches. Struggling to find a way through, they come across a tunnel that leads to a huge barracks. Schofield finds a trip wire but before they can move a rat sets it off blowing apart the chamber and burying Schofield in debris. Blake manages to get him up and drags him out of the caverns. The near-death experience fills Schofield with regret for Blake picking him, and the allies nearly become enemies. However Schofield gets his wits back and they move on.

The Approach –  Schofield tells Blake he’ll probably get a medal for saving his life. We learned earlier that Schofield received a medal that he no longer has. He admits to Blake that he swapped it for a bottle of wine. To him it was nothing more than a piece of tin. He didn’t want to take it home because he hated being there when he was there on leave. They arrive at a bombed out house surrounded by cherry blossoms. Blake is an expert on cherries because his mother has an orchard back home. They decide to investigate the house to make sure that it’s abandoned, as they suspect. Finding nothing in the house, Schofield moves out to the shell of what was once a barn where he finds a bucket of fresh milk that he pours into his empty canteen. Blake joins him and they watch the end of dogfight playing out in the distance. The German plane is shot down and they’re nearly killed when it crashes into the barn.

Supreme Ordeal – They pull the German pilot from the flaming plane, his legs still on fire. Schofield wants to put him out of his misery, but Blake tells him to get water. Schofield runs to a nearby well, but he hears a commotion and turns just in time to see that German pilot stabbing Blake with a knife. Schofield shoots the German and tries to tend to Blake’s wound, but it’s too deep and too late. Schofield tries to get Blake to move, but it’s too painful, and they both come to the realization that Blake is dying. Blake tells Schofield that he’ll recognize his brother because the two of them look just like each other. Blake asks Schofield to write to his mom for him, to tell her that he wasn’t scared and that he loves her. Schofield assures Blake that he knows the way, reciting the directions for him. He promises to find the 2^nd and warn his brother as Blake dies in his arms. Schofield pulls the orders from Blake’s jacket, removes a family ring and one of his dog tags. Schofield, the hero of this story, is now fully committed to the adventure.

Reward – As he pulls Blake’s body to a better resting spot, another couple of soldiers approach and help move him. He then meets Captain Smith (Mark Strong) who is second in command of a convoy heading to the new line. He offers to take Schofield part of the way. Schofield is put in a truck and tries to hold it together in front of other soldiers he doesn’t know as they laugh and tell stories. But the convoy gets bogged down by a downed bridge and Schofield has to move on alone. Smith wishes him luck and warns him to make sure there are witnesses when he presents the orders to Col. Mackenzie, warning him that some men just want the fight. Schofield crosses the debris of a downed bridge, but starts taking fire from a sniper. He manages to get a shot off and hits the sniper in the building he was hiding in. Going in to investigate, he shoots the sniper at close range, but the sniper manages to get a shot off, hitting Schofield in the helmet, knocking him unconscious.

Resurrection – The longest stage of this particular Hero’s Journey starts off with a literal resurrection as Schofield wakes up hours later. It’s dark and he has no idea what time it is. He’s bleeding out of the back of his head and he struggles to his feet. Flares are illuminating the night sky and he sees the ruined town in front of him that he has to get through. As he traverses the streets he realizes that light means danger, as he can be seen by the enemy and must dodge their bullets. As he wanders, he stumbles across a German soldier who chases him, but he manages to escape into a small alcove where he finds a girl hiding with a baby. He asks if this is Accoust, and she says it is. She tells him that he should follow the river to get where he’s going, but he nearly passes out. She examines his wound and cleans it, archetypally healing him and bringing him back to life. The baby, too, is an archetypal symbol of rebirth just as the girl is the symbol of healing and of peace. He gives them food and the milk that he found in the barn, giving them an opportunity for rebirth as well. Interacting with the baby reignites Schofield’s desire to fulfill his mission and he notices that the morning is coming. The girl tries to get him to stay, but he has to go and his mission is reborn as well. He then stumbles upon a couple of drunken Germans and quietly strangles one as the other obliviously stumbles over and Schofield bullies by him. He jumps into the river to escape the city under a hail of more German bullets. The river is raging and sends him over a waterfall. About to give up, the river calms down and he sees Cherry Blossoms floating in the river, an archetypal and symbolic resurrection of Blake and he is again emboldened to continue. But he eventually runs into a mass of bloated and distended dead bodies collected along the river’s bank. After climbing over them, his emotions get the best of him and he breaks down until he hears the sound of singing in the woods. He follows the sound and finds a group of English soldiers listening to another soldier sing a song that is reminiscent of the ordeal that Schofield has just been through. He tells them he has to find the Devers, and they tell him that’s them. They tell him how to find Mackenzie, and he runs ahead. He ends up with them in a trench, but he can’t get through and the attack is about to commence. In perhaps the most famous scene of the movie, he jumps out of the trench, dodging artillery fire and other soldiers before making it to the headquarters of Col Mackenzie (Benedict Cumberbatch). At first unconvinced, McKenzie reads the orders and dramatically calls off the attack.

Return with the Elixir – The colonel’s aid congratulates Schofield on a job well done, but he doesn’t know where to find Blake. Since the First Wave had already gone over, he suggests that Schofield try the casualty tent behind the line. He makes his way there, and after nearly giving up on the search, he finally does find Lt. Blake. He gives him the unfortunate news that his brother died, presenting him with the family ring and dog tag. Lt. Blake, obviously devastated, holds back his emotions and tells Schofield to get to the mess tent. Schofield tells Lt. Blake that his brother was a good man and he saved his life. Lt. Blake confesses that he was glad Schofield was with him and they shake hands. Schofield walks behind a lonely tree off in the distance and sits. He removes from his pocket a photo of his daughters and one of his wife. He flips that one over and written on the other side are the words, “Come back to me”. Schofield closes his eyes and we cut to black.

Unlike most successful films, this film’s story is largely told in one act. There is a very brief prologue of sorts, but once the adventure begins, there’s no all-is-lost moment or second plot point that changes the direction of the story. Blake and Schofield get their orders and from that point on the only thing they’re doing is trying to get to the 2^nd to stop the attack. What makes it work for 1917 is that screenwriters Mendes and Kristy Wilson-Cairns meticulously followed the Hero’s Journey model that led to a compelling, intense and entertaining story.

Again, I don’t recommend this if you’re a writer breaking in to the business. As I mentioned before, you need to show that you can follow the rules before you try to break them. But it is possible. Not only is it possible, but when done properly, it can be very effective.