The Wrong Story

When the preview for the first Purge movie came out, I got excited.

I loved the concept. I mean loved it. One night a year, all crime is legal is the US. I was all over this. So poignant! So resonant! Such social commentary! I was head over heels for this idea.

But I didn’t want to see the movie.

After the preview introduced the concept, it showed us the story: a family of four trying to survive the night as a group of evil strangers attempts to break into their house.

Splat.

This is news to no one; the first movie received, at best, lukewarm reviews. And I think this setup is exactly the reason why.

Quite simply, it’s the Wrong Story. We’ve seen a lot of movies where a group of evil strangers breaks into a house. Hell, here’s a list: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_films_featuring_home_invasions

 Now, home invasion movies aren’t necessarily a bad thing. That list alone proves that a lot of movies can use home invasion in different and interesting ways.

The problem is that the concept of The Purge has absolutely no business joining that list. This setup is way too elaborate to be reduced to just another slasher movie. One night a year, anyone can get away with anything? The possibilities are endless! Stealing. Killing. Hacking. Gambling. Illegal experimentation. What does the nation look like in the years after the Purge? What industries have come into being or been shut down because they could or couldn’t manage the yearly Purges? What’s happened to the class structure, since the poorest are the most unlikely to be able to afford to defend themselves? These are interesting questions to speculate on. But the preview tells you right off the bat that while the movie is interested in glancing at those questions, it’s not going to dig into any of them properly.

It’s the reason I still haven’t seen this movie, and that I don’t really care to. I wasn’t interested in the people trying to get into a house. I was interested in the world outside it.

It’s the Wrong Story.

The same phenomenon occurred with the movie The Adjustment Bureau. Remember that one, with Matt Damon, where he goes to work late one day and finds a group of men in suits modifying the thoughts of the other people in his company? The preview was thrilling! Who are these people? What are they really doing to the people they modify? Are they part of a conspiratorially large and powerful mystery group that dictates the world of business, or even the government?

Well, it turns out the movie is a love story. The people who adjust things are apparently magical and they have a very specific idea of what the future should look like, and in Matt Damon’s case, that means he can’t be with That One Girl he met That One Time. The conspiracy, the mystery, the deep and devastating question of whether we’re really in control of our lives—brushed aside for a love story.

The Wrong Story.

This phenomenon is interesting because it tells you something fundamental about the way we approach fiction. You can really easily see where stories that got it right could have fallen into the same pitfall.

For example, let’s look at The Hunger Games. The premise piques your interest: kids in an arena fighting to the death. Even if it isn’t the most original thing you’ve ever heard before (Blade Runner, Battle Royale, etc.) it’s still interesting and opens up a new world full of possibilities.

What the Hunger Games does right is the story. Our main characters are trapped in an arena where only one can survive, and they use a love story to change the rules. Imagine if instead the story was just about a poor girl who beat all the other kids and won the Games. Imagine if instead it was about a girl from a rich district who beat all the other kids and won the Games! Splat! Not interesting. Wrong Story. Subverting the rules, experimenting with the way the outside world responds to the events of the Games—that’s the Right Story. The concept isn’t there to tell a love story. The love story is there to explore the concept.

I’ll say it again. The concept doesn’t justify the plot line. The plot line explores the concept.

This example also highlights something else about how we like our fiction. The Hunger Games also acknowledges that without any victor, the government is screwed. The concept “Only one can survive” has evolved into “two victors” and then turns into “ZERO victors.” It takes you on a journey. Our understanding of the Games has transformed, and transformed again.

In most circles, this is what you’d call a Twist. There’s a big surprise near the end. If Hunger Games had stayed at “two victors” and never ventured into “ZERO victors,” it wouldn’t be the Wrong Story. But it would be a much more boring story. Because we like third-act surprises. We like our concepts to be fully explored. We like Twists.

We just also happen to hate them.

To be more specific, we like good twists. Twists that force you to completely reevaluate everything you’ve seen so far. That transform not only your relationship to the movie, and to the movie’s concept, but also to the way you evaluate your life. Sixth Sense, Psycho, Usual Suspects, The Prestige. Epic, genuine surprises.

What we loathe is a bad twists. I don’t need to tell you twice that M. Night. Shyamalan’s name has become box office poison for exactly this reason. His movies are famous for having a twist just for the sake of having a twist. It’s not surprising or transformative whatsoever. So predictable you don’t even bother.

Cases like The Purge prove that Shyamalan’s not the only one in Hollywood doing this kind of thing. He’s just the most obvious. Because let’s be real, you knew the ‘twist’ at the end of The Purge based just on that preview.

But if The Purge had been the Right Story—if it hadn’t obsessed itself with a home invasion plot, if it had focused on the outside world and the ramifications a yearly night of crime has on society, if it had really delved into the craziness its concept promised—maybe it would have had an ending that really, genuinely transformed you.

The Purge 2 is out in theaters right now and its received similar reviews to its predecessor, although perhaps a shade nicer. After all, this one does what the first one should have—it takes place in the hectic anarchy of Purging society, not inside a tiny house. That’s the Right Story, isn’t it?

Ehhhhhh….

No.

It’s a step in the right direction. And I’ve heard this one digs a little deeper into the big questions I was asking at the beginning of this post. But it’s not quite there yet. Finding the Right Story to explore a crazy concept can be difficult. But it’s really easy to tell when the story being told is the Wrong One.

Hopefully I’ll be able to keep this in mind in my own creative works.

I hope you will too.