The Quietside and Broadchurch

Like many fans from "across the pond" and even here in the U.S., I've been thoroughly enjoying Broadchuch on BBC America. Tonight's episode just wrapped up, and I couldn't help but write a little about the similarities I've been noticing between the novel I'm working on, The Quietside, and the highly-rated drama series.

The skilled cast of Broadchurch. Photo from The Independent.

Now, don't get me wrong. Every story has bits and pieces from another story, and that story another, and so on. It's impossible to have a 100% original idea because, well, humans are all quite alike in regards to storytelling. In fact, it's one of the few things all of us have in common, in my opinion, that isn't considered "human nature," like the "fight or flight" response, a mother's love for her young--you get the point. If someone were to drastically change our accepted method of storytelling, few would like it or even recognize it as a story. In a film class of mine at school, we watched Man With a Movie Camera, a film from 1929 Soviet Russia directed by Dziga Vertov. Here's my initial response, written after the class:

Within the first several minutes of this film, I realized that I was watching something extraordinarily different than any other film I had seen before. Prior to watching the film, we talked about how it’s essentially an extremely long music video or montage, and also how many believe that it doesn’t have any narrative form. There is no doubt that it includes many montage elements, primarily the quick passage of time and showing a multitude of scenes without showing how the camera (which, in a way, acts as the main character in this film) got there. It reminded me of a short film the popular musician Deadmau5 did along with one of his songs, “Bleed.”

            I would argue against the film not having narrative form. It’s definitely not your typical narrative, but there are elements that link the seemingly random shots together, some general themes that could be applied for scenes and the overall film, and the several shots of the camera man walking while holding the camera that make it more narrative than not.

A Man With a Movie Camera, photo credit wikimedia.

            I found that each “act” or “chapter” had a general theme, and that all the shots within that chapter were related to a degree. An example within one of the “chapters” was the shot of the window shutters, then the camera shutter, then a shot of eyelids. Overall themes included the industry segment, the transportation segment, and the life segment.

            Personally, I think his true goal was to show the human experience. At first, I thought it might have been about what our eyes can see, then the intricacies of life, then I finally decided that it was more of a documentary on life in the particular area the film was placed. Really, the only thing that the film is missing from the human experience is sex. There was plenty of day-to-day life captured, weddings, death, sickness, science, technology, beauty, love, sports, friendship—you name it, it’s pretty much all there.

Reading the response again, I realize that I was trying my hardest to find something like a plot, narrative, theme, or concept that I could latch onto so that it felt like something Hollywood would produce rather than what somebody decided to do on a Sunday afternoon (not to say that Vertov wasn't an extremely visionary man). This was my response, but many in the class didn't like the film, or were annoyed at how random it was, or (granted, there were a lot of these) just didn't care enough to formulate a position. So I'm using that as proof for my argument--people expect something they can understand and have heard, read or seen before.

That may have seemed like a rant, but my point is that it isn't a bad thing to be similar to another story. In fact, I would say that it's better to "steal" from everywhere you can, as long as it fits the story and is a good snatch (duh). So even though I feel gross seeing characters like Beth Latimer run to get away from things, just like Cole does, or Rev. Paul Coates attempt to lead the community in a way Roger will attempt to do, or even the different but similar medical problems both Cole and Alec Hardy face, I know that as long as the characters are different enough--which they have to be since no one is exactly the same--I can pull it off without getting angry editors and fans. If I ever have those.

Since the plots are similar, both Broadchuch and The Quietside fall into the crime drama pit that many paperback crime novels are helplessly trapped. You have the detective with something to hide; the multiple murder suspects; all dirty in their own way; the innocent victim, who might not have been innocent after all; the grieving loved ones who eventually come into question; I could go on. People expect these things from crime drama. If each item, or at least most of them, isn't present, then something doesn't feel right. 

From the real Quietside, aka Bass Harbor, Maine. You can tell I took it because of the silly date in the corner.

Or then again, something could feel new, fresh, and exhilarating. Broadchurch separates itself from the rest with, in my opinion, excellent acting and directing. Also important in Broadchurch's success is the setting--something I'm very excited about. Since Steven King is essentially the only author that has 1)written anything like crime drama set in Maine and 2)is well-known, it's nice to think that even if my characters aren't different and new enough for publishers, that maybe the setting will be.

To wrap it up, if you haven't watched Broadchurch, you should. It's not that hard to find online (shh you didn't hear it from me). Here's iMDB's page on Broadchurch here and the main website here.  

I know I said I'd have a character bio up, but it's late and I got stuck working on some additions to the first six chapters last night that I might otherwise forget. Expect one very soon--it will probably be a new character, one that hasn't appeared yet.