A lot of - perhaps
most - drama and comedy operates around the use of peripeteia, the sudden
reversal of fortune or change in circumstances. This happens not only in
narratives as a whole, but is generally the hinge that most individual scenes
in a drama pivot around - something will have happened during the scene to
change the circumstances by the end of it. Once you're primed to notice this,
you see more clearly the process of writing behind things. When I've taught
textual analysis of film to students, I've often given the advice that: if
you're stuck observe what the reversal is in this scene and explain how it's
shown.
This story of Manny and Patrick continuing an accumulator bet through a day's races (mostly told in continuous time in a single room) is a good example of a peripatetic storyline in its most simplistic form, with the friends unexpectedly gaining and then losing a fortune. The problem with the story is that no one above the age of about eight could possibly be surprised by any of it. There's nothing that makes you think, that's clever, I couldn't have anticipated that... Instead you think - is that it? He can't remember the name of the horse? - and the thing is only just carried over the line by the likability of the characters.
Thames' prop designers have done themselves proud with a faulty television set this week. The device through which the tailors try to follow the races, the viewer only gets to see the back of the unidentifiable television so as not to sully the reputation of any real-life manufacturers. But the hot valves, wires and ventilators of the exploding prop bring back the smell and feel of older sets still in circulation when I was a small child.
This story of Manny and Patrick continuing an accumulator bet through a day's races (mostly told in continuous time in a single room) is a good example of a peripatetic storyline in its most simplistic form, with the friends unexpectedly gaining and then losing a fortune. The problem with the story is that no one above the age of about eight could possibly be surprised by any of it. There's nothing that makes you think, that's clever, I couldn't have anticipated that... Instead you think - is that it? He can't remember the name of the horse? - and the thing is only just carried over the line by the likability of the characters.
Thames' prop designers have done themselves proud with a faulty television set this week. The device through which the tailors try to follow the races, the viewer only gets to see the back of the unidentifiable television so as not to sully the reputation of any real-life manufacturers. But the hot valves, wires and ventilators of the exploding prop bring back the smell and feel of older sets still in circulation when I was a small child.
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