Why does a story need conflict and resolution to be accepted or desired? I’ve been told if people are to engage in the story, it must follow a structure. Snow White, Aladdin, Rapunzel… the princess always finds her prince, and in Frozen, the princess finds herself. Something must be lost and then found, unrealized, then realized, unknown, then known. The story can and should vary, but within a structured space.
But then why can I sit on a park bench for hours and watch people walk by and still be entertained? Or as a little girl, by an ant carrying a piece of bread across the sidewalk. The path in front of him wasn’t easy. When the wind blew and his fluffy bread flew a few feet away, he didn’t seem affected. He walked around puddles and found ways over stones and around holes with acceptance. I wondered if he got angry, scared, or sad when faced with challenges, because I sure did. When my mother called me in for lunch, I didn’t want to tear myself away. I wanted to follow his story until he made it back to his ant hill. If a camera could follow the ant, I would have given up my cartoons and Sesame Street to watch.
Maybe the creators of "Slow TV" in Norway were drawing from their own childhood experiences when they decided to take a risk and break away from the standard story structure. Their first attempt was a seven-hour train ride from one side of Norway to the other. To fill the space when the train went through tunnels, they showed archived footage. Millions of people tuned in. They pushed the boundaries even further with a 3000-kilometer journey by boat, that took 5 ½ days. Again, the creators took a risk with story. Their job was to capture what unfolded. It could have been nothing but water and sky, but again the people showed up, and it became a rich story, full of humor and emotion.
It worked too, because it was a story that people could trust—it had a reliable narrator: themselves. As the boat passed, people held up signs and waved to their families watching at home. The story wasn’t scripted, but it had emotion, anticipation, conflict, and resolution. The naked water skier brought humor, but the people holding signs had stories of their own. One boy held up a sign saying he’d be late for school because he wanted to be there when the boat passed by. My brain filled in the gaps by immediately searching for the story. I imagined a conflict between him and his mother until he convinced her to let him skip school. Without trying, the structure of a protagonist, conflict, and a resolution emerged.
By rooting for the ant when he faced challenges, the ant's story came to life. That's why when my mother called me in, I imagined that that little ant made it home to his family and shared the bread. When a happy young couple walks by me sitting on a bench, in my mind they had just gotten engaged, and despite a brother or mother causing some sort of difficulty, she makes it to the alter in her white dress, staring into the eyes of the man she loves.
I didn’t need someone to lay the story out for me. I naturally found the conflict and resolution that is needed for a story to be interesting and push forward. It’s in the DNA. All we need is what’s already in front of us in everyday life. The story is always there—we just have to look.
Commentaires