Telling a Story about Dragon-slaying

Words. So like. Reading Magic: the Gathering story to present…I am reminded how the Dragon is not a real dragon. Whatshisface, hero’s journey dude. He said the Dragon is the dragon in our minds. I interpret this as our stories not being tales of daring do, but daring thought, psyche, or ethic. The fight to slay a beast is not a physical effort but a mental one, perhaps even as simple as finding the will to train, daily. Or perhaps as complex as conjuring hope from the face of despair, or uniting many under a single cause.

Some writers understand this, and their vignettes (all MtG plot is now told through short stories from no one author) really shine. Other authors take the George Lucas approach and opt for more actual dragon fighting, figuratively. You know. I love a good action fantasy read, but I’ve never been able to put my finger on why some can appear perfectly reasonable yet fall flat. This is why. Good action requires just as much from its characters, setting, and plot as any other story.

For this reason, Guardians of the Galaxy is infinitely better than Star Wars. There, I said it. The biggest flaw of GotG is its pathetic excuse for a villain. He is a Dragon, no more and no less. Shit for motive, boring dialogue, wins every fight. This is the film’s secret strength though, because it’s not a movie about slaying a dragon, it’s a movie about a group of self-serving losers coming together for an unlikely, selfless cause and “giving a shit.” It’s uproarious. It’s witty. It’s exciting.

But that’s the thing. The action sequences are a demonstration of the strengths and weaknesses inherent in the performing characters. When they break out of the prison, Groot and Drax smash heedlessly, Gamora kicks some dudes, and Rocket is smart and shoots a gun. Starlord is left talking his way out of…well nothing, but that’s the point. He’s often useless in the face of a battle but he’s good with words – the bard. (See my earlier post about how GotG is a Dungeons and Dragons party.) Each has obvious strengths and flaws that temper and complement one anothers’, getting them into and out of funny and action-filled scenarios.

Star Wars has ONE SCENE exemplifying this – the first flight of the Millennium Falcon. Hey look I’m a really fantastic pilot and you can shoot a gun but how the fuck Tie Fighters. Tie Fighters are everywhere and this ship is a piece of shit and bam. We have reaffirmed our character flaws and differences and reconciled them to kill these Dragons like a badass team. The rest of the movie is fanservice and a huge misunderstanding of the purpose of villains and action sequences.

Conveniently this leads to the second glaring flaw of bad fantasy action writing.

###  Do not assume  ###
that complex characters with good background and motives will carry your story.

Growth and development are quintessential to plot, in fact, your story about Dragon slaying is actually a story about Dragon Slayers. Never think otherwise. Star Wars VII is a testament to this, as the characters are basically well-done, but the ENORMOUS GULF that is the dialogue of that film falls far too short of any sort of interesting anything. No, I don’t like the new Star Wars. Not because it’s kitchy, not because it’s a series of walking, talking cliches, and not because the villain is a whiny baby with daddy issues where his balls, er, character should be. I hate the new Star Wars because nobody does anything. Nobody changes. Sure dragons were killed but nobody slew a Dragon. In fact, nobody talked to anybody, or even had so much as a remote thought to grow or change. The essence of western storytelling, the adversity promulgated by outside forces, did not present an emotional obstacle. It presented a physical one, that was solved by three barely-intersecting origin stories.

As an aside, I’ve started re-reading The Count of Monte Cristo. Which is a fantastic, gargantuan story. The thing about Dumas is he writes serials, which are effectively soap operas of his time. But the characters, the interactions and complications therein make his serials compelling enough to ‘binge watch’ via their hardcover Netflix counterparts. The Three Musketeers is another such tale. I love it. It’s cliched, tropey, long-winded, action-heavy. But at its core we still have an earnest, naive D’Artagnan learning the values of friendship and love, and facing issues that swordplay and enthusiasm alone cannot conquer. The fight scenes are testaments not to swordplay but to the wise instructing the young, the drive to do better, and the uncompromising determination and hard work to get there. With some really wickedly good writing about swordplay on top.

Perhaps this is the same reason why E. B. White’s The Once and Future King is much more highly regarded than the original tale of King Arthur.

To make another big leap, the Fire Emblem video game series either succeeds or fails spectacularly. (My god I’ve been meaning to talk about Fire Emblem and our love/hate relationship for too long please dear reader grant me this digression.) Each game has the potential in very few lines to present living, breathing characters thrown into adversity, forced to interact with each other, complete with the background and development necessary to make these interactions interesting and meaningful. The battles are of course the core of the gameplay, but the feeling you get at the end of said battles comes half from accomplishment and half from the emotional trials they represent. For the same reason, I think, Dragon Age succeeds over Skyrim. Fire Emblem has just as much potential as the latter to offer cardboard cutouts for characters who bungle around like bumper cars unable to actually grow.

Basically. Fantasy adventure action what-have-you means a lot to me. But don’t for one second get it into your head that slaying the physical dragon is the best part. Or I will find you. And make your life a literary hell.

 

PS: Some good MtG stories: (NO LIKE REALLY FUCKING GOOD THEY MAKE ME WANT TO PLAY THESE CARDS DESPITE THEM BEING SHITTY)

1. I am a force of change in the world and I will not let others stop me from being who I am.
2. I belong to no one. I am free. Despite this, the power and resources I have reaped are shared.
3. Regardless of what can be done to our history or culture, our memories are unshakable and grant us power.

A bad MtG story:
Don’t mind us killing a dragon for plot while looking cool and being marginally diverse.

A review of my second favourite Fire Emblem game (To explain the beginning to non-gamers, characters who stand next to each other can be made to converse, fostering a bond that grants statistical bonuses. Each bond has three levels, meaning three conversations, an interesting limitation that strangely promotes and solidifies individuality. Like Tweets or something.)

Now my favourite.

Now a recent, shitty one. (Important because the criticism delves into “Background” and “Development” and what they mean to a story and game. Watch until 17 minutes at least.)

PPS: For diehard Fire Emblem fans willing to devote several hours to watching the full series of reviews, note how he skips over the Tellius games. This is simultaneously a grave mistake and a brilliant oversight; the games were quite well done, but also tragically cliched and formulaic, as well as overwrought and heavy-handed thematically. The characters have simple dialogue and straightforward motives, perhaps with less care taken to each personality (Lowen’s, “A knight of Pherae…would never falter…” vs pretty much all of Ike or Soren’s lines). But let it never be said I hate tropey, over-the-top, unsubtle narrative. Love those games.