In a post on the Stage 32 blog, Mary Helen Norris shares how she cut characters to strengthen her scripts. “This can be more painful than cutting scenes or entire plot points,” Norris says. “In both screenplays and novels, creating compelling characters takes time and effort; to suddenly and completely remove all traces of them hurts.”
Norris examines why she made this decision and how she went about fixing her work. In her novel-in-progress, Norris created a lead investigator, her assistant, and her best friend. To justify the best friend’s presence, Norris made her the protagonist’s PR person, but something didn’t click. “That PR-expert friend did absolutely nothing to help the story,” Norris writes. “In fact, she was hurting it by her mere presence. Every time I brought her in, it bogged down and slowed down the story.” In fact, this character was solving problems for the protagonist. The story got stronger when Norris let her hero tackle adversity on her own.
Second, as she developed a web series, Norris realized that her female lead was working out, but her male lead was not. “It became evident pretty quickly that part of the script’s problems was this character,” she writes. Norris cut him and gave another character his beats. “It made the script stronger, made the characters sharper, and moved the story along,” she says.
So, how do you know when it’s a character who’s causing a problem? “If you removed that character from the story entirely, would it make a difference?” Norris asks. “In both of the cases I’ve mentioned above, the character’s absence didn’t negatively affect the story. With that in mind, it became obvious that the characters added nothing to the story.”
Whenever you add a character, ask yourself what purpose they serve. Do they move the plot? Are they the only person with needed information? Are they the best source? Even if they are needed, ask yourself if the character needs a big role. Can their purpose be served with a few sentences or one scene? You can also consider conveying information in physical form. “For example, a protagonist could learn their dead family member was in debt by talking to a banker–or they could find crumbled up IOUs in their family member’s jacket pocket and overdue notices stuffed out of sight in a drawer,” Norris says. “The latter option breathes life into an otherwise unseen character, and makes the world feel lived-in.”
