There’re many ways to construct an action scene and wow an audience. Each providing its thrills chills, bright colors, and loud sounds. It’s a fun ride while you’re on it. Unfortunately much like most else in life there’re as many ways to get an action scene wrong as there are right. One of the fundamentals I’ve sought to improve is the flow.
I’ll set my definition for flow as the constant state of change which progresses an action scene. There can be individual moments of action say an incident in a bar where two men argue, a punch is thrown, and the agitator is tossed out. True there’s conflict, escalation, physical action, and a resolution but it’s entirely singular. There’s only problem-resolution. However if the two men’s argument spread to the rest of the bar say between fans of rival sport teams, then there’d be the possibility of a back and forth between the patrons. It can start with fists and shoving but when one skinny guy angry at being so easily dispatched by a brutish tough comes back swinging a chair the opposition dispenses with that restraint and picks up every chair on their side of the brawl. Now it’s problem-solution-escalation. To make a scene, which the rowdy patrons certainly are, you have to chain those events together before arriving at a final resolution.
Flow exists where the scene progresses. Without it in the prior example the brawl would only be the initial style of fighting stretched to its total length. For a short scene it’s serviceable but for a long one it grows plodding. The transition from fist fight to using immediately available weaponry increases the likelihood of serious injury and first shown a chair one can ask themselves what next will be seized for such a use. Tables, glasses, the salt and pepper shakers, barstools, plates, ice buckets? This is where establishing the scene comes in handy because although we can expect some common things found in a bar the skill comes in placing the environment in the audience’s mind. Tell that there’s a variety of thick glass liquor bottles arrayed behind the bar then when two fans tumble over the counter in melee it’s gratifying to see one of them grab a bottle from the shelf.
Stay a moment with those two fans who flung themselves behind the bar counter. Set the focus there. The scene just went from wild fracas amongst dozens of nameless, faceless participants in an open area to a desperate duel in an enclosed space. Changing the environment strongly impacts the atmosphere of the scene. In a narrow space the mood turns claustrophobic, personal, every step risks putting the participants off balance, exposing them to great harm. That new dynamic refreshes the scene. Keeping that same idea, have one of the two destroy a priceless bottle above the bar. Such a loss enrages the owner who grabs a shotgun from under the counter. The dueling fans then crash out the back door sprinting through the alleyway with the owner close behind. Boom, now the action scene is a chase.
But these are generalized scenarios. To tune the scene there must be a clear objective. Most times these can be boiled down to get the McGuffin, stop the big bad, or simply survive (and possibly a combination of these). First establish the objective then present the obstacle(s) to it. Once one obstacle is overcome present another and another till the final resolution. A smooth flow is helped when the outcome of one solution presents the next obstacle. Running off path to avoid a charging tiger puts the character on a cliff edge. Using a flash fire diversion burns their hands so they can’t climb a ladder. The consequences in sequence form their own storyline where the characters show themselves. The coward runs away throwing others between themselves and the problem. The ideal heroic status seeker flings themself at every possible trial even diverting a moment in the middle of a race to help a cat down from a tree.
Ultimately flow is achieved when the scene progresses with unquestioned logic. If you’ve ever seen a new element pop up in the middle of an action scene and said “I guess we’re doing this now,” the lapse in logic struck with a sour note. If you’re having a good time you can laugh it off but if it happens again and again such forgiveness won’t come as easy. That’s why before the scene occurs you have to establish the characters and setting. Of course there’s no shame in writing the action then going back and adding the justifications for the events so long as they mesh and feel believable. A character can’t just pull a bazooka out of thin air as cool as that may be but placed in a paramilitary base the response is “Of course they’d have a bazooka.” Or you can be left think it obvious that character would do that. Of course the guy with no attachment to material objects would throw priceless cultural artifacts in his wake to shake off the anthropologist who’d of course dive to catch them. If their actions make sense we quietly accept it.
I keep pointing to logic as a solution to various problems but that’s because it’s important to the audience’s enjoyment. The more effort the creator puts towards the story’s logic the less the audience must. Thinking about logic isn’t always fun but my enjoyment is making something others can enjoy. If they want to pick it apart and get something out of it good for them, but they shouldn’t be made to slam their heads into a brick wall just to justify why a cool thing happened like it did. If you’ve worked to hide the strings the cool thing will just happen and they will clap for it.
Colin Klawans 