In Defence Of... 5 Widely Hated Movie Plot Points

Ever watched a movie and came away thinking, "Man, that one plot point really sucked the life out of everything else"? It happens quite often. Truth is, there's a great deal of pressure on the writer to not only fill 90-180 minutes of screen time, but to make it all important, unique and consistent. So, while some of the points in this article are, for the most part, inexcusable on the surface, I'm going to take you through why the writer(s) may have thought to include them. Also, SPOILER ALERT.

1) Midi-chlorians - Star Wars Episode 1: The Phantom Menace

I was born in 1990, which means I was 8 going on 9 by the time The Phantom Menace came out - arguably the perfect age to enjoy that film. Anakin Skywalker wasn't a whinny little brat to me. He was aspirational. Of course, looking back now, my appreciation for the movie has somewhat skewed, mostly thanks to the ingenious Red Letter Media review (seriously, look it up), but there was one moment that stuck out, even as a kid as a little icky - the reveal that the Force, arguably the most beloved invisible power source in cinema history, was just science.

Midi-chlorians, as described by the ever-wise Liam Neeson, are a microscopic organism present in all living cells, and large quantities allowed the host to communicate with the Force. Ever more gross is the suggestion that Anakin was conceived by midi-chlorians... So how can I possibly defend this? Well, what George Lucas was trying to convey in the moment was just how powerful  Anakin was as a boy, without implicitly showing him using the Force. The logical way to gauge something's power level in Science Fiction (or in Dragonball Z) is to arbitrarily stick a number on it that is way higher than everyone else's - in this case, a midi-chlorian count. So while he may have inadvertently pooed on his own legacy, Lucas actually managed to convey the ongoing theme of the prequels, power, in quite a logical, efficient manner.

2) Superman Does A Bad Thing - Man of Steel

I think the thing that some audiences forget about superhero origin stories is that they're origin stories from beginning to end. The "origin" part doesn't stop as soon as they've donned the costume for the first time. In fact, the whole point of Man of Steel is for Kal-El to decide which origin he should place his faith in - his birthplace of Krypton, or his adoptive home of Earth. Both come with vastly different ideologies, personified by Kal's two fathers, Jor-El and Jonathan Kent. One suggesting he should stand above the humans, inspiring them to find their own greatness. The other warning him that humans fear what they can't control or understand. In my opinion, this dilemma visibly weighs upon Kal in every scene - the mark of a compelling movie.

Then Zod shows up and things get a little muddy. Zod represents the extreme of what Jor-El proposed, standing so far above those weaker than him that they practically have no right to exist. By this stage, the newly appointed Superman (not that he even gets called that directly) hasn't even had time to save a cat from a tree, let alone stop any previous global scale invasions. It all comes down to a fight between Supes' and Zod that decimates half of Metropolis, and ending in a choice - should he kill Zod to save a family of humans? With one neck snap, Clark makes his choice, but he's found his balance. Earth is his home, but Superman can't show weakness. Even in that following scene where he destroys the drone, and jokes with the military, more like the traditional Superman we know, there's a sense that he's guarding himself. It's likely now that he won't kill again, but find another way to keep everyone on Earth safe. However you feel about how this was all handled, there's still some aftermath to be dealt with...

3) What Happened to Llewelyn Moss? - No Country For Old Men

No Country For Old Men is a gripping, cat-and-mouse, neo-Western thriller about Llewelyn Moss, a man who happens upon the scene of a drug deal gone awry and a case filled with 2 million dollars. Hot on his tale is Anton Chigurh, a relentless hitman, determined to reclaim the money no matter what stands in his way. This naturally comes across as a pretty obvious protagonist vs antagonist relationship, and that we're going to spend most of our time with Moss. For the most part, this is true, but the movie is also bookended by Sheriff Bell, who laments about the dark times in which they live.

So after we've followed the numerous near misses of Moss and Chigurh, the focus starts to shift off of them again. In typical Coen Brothers fashion, chance and circumstance blend together, as Moss' Mother-in-Law unwittingly reveals his location to a group of Mexicans. Bell arrives late to the scene of a gunfight to find that Moss has been killed, off-screen. He also has an opportunity to apprehend Chigurh, but leaves. The truth is, Moss was never our protagonist. He didn't change or give up the money, putting his wife in harm's way. He had to die. The real story is Bell's, who retires, unable to stomach what the world has become.

4) Bane Isn't The Big Bad -The Dark Knight Rises

Revealing who was really behind it all is always a risky move in films where there's already quite a traditional villain laid out. Bottom line, the twist has to be justified by the relationship between the Big Bad and the Bigger Bad, as well as the reasons behind the deception. In The Dark Knight Rises, whilst Bane brings Gotham to its knees in honour of the fallen League of Shadows, the real puppet-master (or mistress), turns out to be Talia Al Ghul, daughter of Ra's Al Ghul, finishing off what her father started in Batman Begins. Bane in the comics is typically defined somewhere between a physical powerhouse and a master strategist, and here he's presented as a balance of the two.

However, to define Bane as a follower, rather than a partner, is ignoring the fact that Bane is the one doing all the physical legwork. Talia, pretending to be Miranda Tate, comes up with the plan but can't get her hands dirty due to her political position. But they both share the same desire - to see the people of Gotham suffer, born from their father-daughter relationship cultivated in prison. There's strong motivations here, presented in a grounded, if slightly comic book, way. Compare this to the infamous Mandarin twist in Iron Man 3, where the reasons for the deception are far more bizarre and unclear, and TDKR more than holds up (Disclaimer: I personally loved the IM3 twist, but more because it was mostly played for laughs - the actual logic behind it is just baffling).

5) The Ending - I Am Legend

I may have written myself into a corner on this one... For those of you who know the original Richard Matheson novel, you'll know that it comes with a very clear ending and message. The story's nocturnal mutants, known as the "Darkseekers", come face to face with self-proclaimed legend, Robert Neville, in his lab. The alpha male draws a butterfly emblem on the glass separating them, indicating the female that Robert has in his captivity. In that moment, Robert realises that he is the monster to these creatures, returns the female and ends up leaving New York with Anna and Ethan, headed for a survivors camp with an antidote for the plague. Instead, the film gave us a "I'll hold them off" moment, as the Darkseekers try to break through the glass and Robert sacrifices himself by blowing himself and them up with a grenade.

The strangest part about all this is that they filmed the original ending, but test audiences didn't like or get it, so they changed it. Apparently the idea of humans being the bad guy just didn't add up considering everything else that had come before. It's not like the Darkseekers all cowered away in fear, whilst Robert roamed the streets laying traps... Oh. If the message of the novel is that at some point, humanity will stand in the way of evolution, the message of the film is "Oh, Hell No We Won't". So, really it's a glass half empty vs. a glass half full situation. It's not totally unbelievable that audiences would want to come away with some semblance of optimism, right? In both versions, they still find and deliver the cure - it's just a choice between whether a depressed Robert is with Anna and Ethan at the time or not. Is it better to be dead or depressed in an apocalypse? I guess that's the ultimate dilemma the screenwriters faced...

James Cottle, after studying Scriptwriting for 4 years, is now an embittered real life freelance writer, and seeks to unlearn everything he knows. But he needs your help... Follow him on Twitter @Jxmxsc and share this blog to help spread his anarchic plight for reform amongst the writing masses.