So in PART I I discussed how many stories in popular American culture are tales of heroes who basically are AGENTS OF CHANGE, characters who influence or alter the people and world they encounter. Very common in television and film, particularly in action films, and in television as well.
Bruce Lee, for example, is an agent of change. He goes to Han’s island to stop him in ENTER THE DRAGON, and that’s exactly what he does, by the story’s end.
Sherlock Holmes? Agent of Change.
James Bond? Agent of Change.
Ripley in ALIENS? Agent of Change.
Generally they exist to upset the order of things (usually the plans of the villain) and change the world they’re trying to create.
It’s more common in television because, well, people tune into watch shows every week because they like those characters and want to see them kick ass. They don’t want their heroes to change, per se, they want them to be who they are.
But far more common in film are heroes who are TRANSFORMED by what they do or experience… Agents Who Change. In fact, this idea is so cemented in film it has its own term.
The HERO’S JOURNEY, sometimes referred to as an HJ 1.
From Joseph Campbell, of course, it’s how the hero is TRANSFORMED by the journey he or she embarks upon. George Lucas made this very popular in STAR WARS… Luke Skywalker is on a journey to become a Jedi.
By the story’s end, he will have changed… he believes in the Force.
Neo in THE MATRIX takes that same journey.
Daniel in THE KARATE KID.
Norma Rae in NORMA RAE.
Veronica (Winona Ryder) in HEATHERS.
The idea that a film’s hero must “arc”as a character is now considered manna from heaven for many in the film business. To the point that too many studios ONLY want those types of movies. The idea is, of course, that if we watch a character transform and change, the audience itself will also transform and change… and in elegantly crafted films, we can see this.
In clumsy movies, this doesn’t happen, the characters just change completely (like Scrooge in A CHRISTMAS CAROL) for reasons that don’t track and far too often, unlike Scrooge, it doesn’t feel earned. Scrooge endured his life under a microscope in A CHRISTMAS CAROL and it completely altered his world view.
His change was earned and realistic. In clumsy soap operas, it’s often not earned and therefore not believable.
And that’s important, it must be earned and feel real.
Tony Stark in IRON MAN was a selfish billionaire and only became somewhat selfless after he is trapped in a cave and forced to witness, first hand, the destruction his weapons had wrought upon the world and decided to make things right for what he’d done… and bear in mind, Tony didn’t become a different person, per se. He was still arrogant, egotistical and a pain in the ass… but he had changed one important aspect of himself from his time in the cave.
He cared about others. He didn’t before, not really.
It was a lot more subtle than many movies, and for a film based on a comic book, the touch it took with the character is quite surgical and precise.
Now compare Tony’s journey to Steve Rogers in CAPTAIN AMERICA, FIRST AVENGER… the easy route is to point out that Steve DOES change. He goes from a scrawny hundred pound stick of a boy to a muscle bound hero of a man.
But the reality is that Steve DOESN’T CHANGE as a character.
In fact, that’s why the Doctor chose him, because of his good heart. Rather, his body finally matches his heart. Steve Rogers is an agent of change.
Even when the Government tries to sideline him as a war bond salesman and dancer, he rebels and puts himself in harm’s way. Steve is a man of sincere commitment and belief in what he is doing, and his journey is to have that faith tested, but Steve never fails the test, even after he loses his best friend. Even after he sacrifices himself in the ice. The skinny Steve who throws himself on a grenade to protect his team in training is the same character who guides a plane into the ice to protect the world.
And it’s just as thrilling as when Tony shows us he can change, too. Though I’d note that Tony telling the world he’s Iron Man is a tell that while Tony is far less selfish, he’s not less egotistical. He wants the world to know.
But it took Tony until he got to THE AVENGERS before he was ready to make the sacrifice play that Steve was willing to do from the get-go as a skinny kid, and it wasn’t until ENDGAME that Tony was able to follow through with that.
The two characters are polar opposites and that’s why the interaction between them is so very fascinating and led to Civil War (I’d note Steve has his own selfish interests… he’s not pure, he is fanatically loyal to his friends, which is why Steve standing up for Bucky, an obvious killer, is problematic regardless of the reasons Bucky is who he is.)
Balancing AGENTS OF CHANGE against an AGENT WHO WILL CHANGE is a useful tactic and, in fact, part and parcel of many love stories, especially romantic comedies. The awful yet successful film PRETTY WOMAN is exactly that.
Many love stories are that, in fact, a carefree spirit of change knocks an uptight straight man out of his rut and changes his life (see Demme’s SOMETHING WILD, 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU, THE APARTMENT, ANNIE HALL, DIRTY DANCING) and it doesn’t even need to be a love story.
POINT BREAK is the same structural story (it’s, uh, kinda a love story between Johnny Utah and Bodhi.)
MIDNIGHT RUN, same thing. Charles Grodin’s character changes DeNiro’s.
FINDING FORESTER, GOOD WILL HUNTING, DEAD POETS SOCIETY, anything with teachers, in fact (the aforementioned KARATE KID) is often about exactly that.
In ALMOST FAMOUS, Penny Lane changes William.
The dance between two such characters can often make for a fascinating story.
I’m being purposely heavy-handed here, of course, but it’s important to get the broad strokes down… I think “change” is a problematic word in many cases, as that it’s less about change and more about how the characters grow or are affected by what they experience. Jean Claude Van Damme, for example, is an agent of change in his films (both he and Arnold and many other great action stars, like Willis and Stallone) but they also suffer for it. They’re affected by what they have to do… whereas Steven Seagal and Chuck Norris just do it without suffering. 2
They’re not really affected by what they’re doing… they’re just killing machines, and that’s far less interesting to an audience.
Ethan Hunt suffers for what he chooses to do.
Seagal 3 barely gets out of his chair, is nearly 70 and dyes his beard and wears a terrible fake mop on his head… which is why he does very bad direct to streaming cheap movies and reality TV. Chuck went to episodic television where he played Walker, an agent of change who rarely breaks a sweat when he solves problems.
For myself, what the characters experience and endure in the story and the choices they make as a result of that experience matters more to me than whether or not they change (choices reflect their character) or the degree to which they do. Steve Rogers makes choices that have a cost to them. They also reflect his overall goodness.
I like that. Tony Stark does the same, he makes choices that, for me, make him human, despite his clearly stated flaws as a person.
I am attracted, as a viewer, to humanity.
Television used to be only about Agents Of Change, but now we’ve seen quite a few Agents Who Change as well… one of note is Walter White in BREAKING BAD.
The entire series is about his fall from grace, from a science teacher to a drug lord, and it’s fascinating and complex. We see the choices he makes and while we likely wouldn’t make the same choices, we understand his decisions.
That experience is why we watch.
It’s also why we love Hannibal Lector, who is an Agent of Change, and how he’s able to give Clarice the clarity she needs to grow, survive and thrive in this violent world (she’s an Agent Who Changes, though it’s very subtle, she does)… we love the choices Lector makes because though we know it’s wrong, a part of us wishes we could do the same thing he does.
Many stories combine the two types, but I’d note that the intent with the two types of characters matters in terms of how successful the creator is. This is simply about identifying simple terms for use in practical discussion, so we have a starting point and a common ground when I discuss some of my favorite films and why they work.
I don’t think it’s particularly necessary to have a hero who “changes”, per se, in every great film.
But great art itself is about transformation, in the end. It affects you.
You tell a joke to make someone laugh.
You tell a sad story to remind people how precious life is.
You tell a story about fantastical creatures to open our minds to the possibilities of existence.
We do art to reflect, deal with and affect the changing world.
More on that to come in Part III, which covers my favorite type of film.
BTW, the ebook version of my novel is being offered free this week as part of an Amazon promotion, you can get it via the button below and, if you have a moment, please leave a review… thank you!
The first time I got a note that referenced HJ in an email I immediately thought the person meant something else and couldn’t stop laughing… I never refer to it as HJ myself as a result.
Chuck’s most successful films, however, I’d note are two in which he suffers very much. LONE WOLF MCQUADE is one, he takes a beating and nearly loses his daughter and in CODE OF SILENCE he alienates the rest of the force and loses a fight in a bar against a mob. This is why, I believe, both films were far more popular than his others. It showed he was at least part human. CODE OF SILENCE was directed by Andrew Davis, who also directed Seagal’s first film ABOVE THE LAW and UNDER SIEGE, two of the films where the character is actually challenged and the stories actually hold up, IMO.
I am not a fan of the man, who, besides the legit sexual harassment accusations and his ton of false claims he’s made over the years, is very egotistical and difficult to work with. Which is too bad, because he had charisma, IMO, in his early films. I’m a fan of a few, but there’s no doubt he’s a problematic person, too many folks who I know tell me this, and I’d note it comes out in later performances, too. We always reveal who we are through our actions.