The Humor of Walter Mitty

Two notes. One: Spoilers for The Secret Life of Walter Mitty will follow, and this is one movie that you don’t want spoiled. Two: When you watch the film, know that I’ve only seen it on VidAngel (similar to ClearPlay), and from what I’ve heard, I don’t recommend watching this one without filters. Go watch it on VidAngel, and then come back so we can chat!

I admit it- our family did not watch this movie until a few months ago. Honestly, I had zero interest in watching a remake of anything without Danny Kaye- even though I hadn’t even seen the original. Thanks to the debaucherous nature of too many modern films, I had no interest in a movie about a “Secret” anything. That is, until I found out that it was a rejuvenated family movie about a guy whose overactive imagination takes him on an unforgettable journey. Well. That sounded like a writer-friendly concept, so I watched the movie.

And it was indeed spectacular, yet not in the way you would expect. While I found the plot, development, and cinematography to be exemplary, none of these basic components of storytelling truly stood out. What stood out to me was the masterful use of humor.

That particular week, I had been informally studying the rules of good comic relief. I forget the names of the various sources I read, but from them I gleaned one crucial principle:

Humor, like any other component of a story, should tie into the larger picture.

It’s the same general idea as with romance or any other subplot. Putting something into a story just because the audience might like it is simply glorified mob rule, not storytelling. Subplots have to be relevant- sometimes even indispensable- to the main plot, and funny subplots are no exception.

Back to Walter Mitty. The story’s primary source of humor is a secondary character named Todd Maher, a support techie from eHarmony who faithfully works to fix up Walter’s page and find him a date. During Walter’s outrageous journeys throughout the world, Todd continually calls Walter with commonplace updates and questions about his webpage. Walter might just have come through the craziest of ordeals: sailing on a ship on icy seas with only a few grumpy Norsemen for companions, or maybe riding with a drunken pilot on a helicopter in a storm, to name a few. It doesn’t matter to the faithful Todd. Nor to the audience; we can’t help laughing with some relief when the phone rings and Walter hears “Hello! It’s Todd, from eHarmony!”

But irony and catharsis aren’t the only roles Todd fills. This seemingly meaningless humor device comes into play in the main plot near the end of the movie. (Mild spoilers.) After so much time out of the States in an ungoverned country, Walter cannot legally enter Los Angeles unless somebody who knows him personally can tell the police that he is the real Walter Mitty. But- guess who had mentioned that he lives in LA? Right. Todd from eHarmony. Even as the audience laughs at this ironic work of fate, we are saying to ourselves, “Ah. So that’s why Todd and eHarmony are in this story.”

It’s a seemingly simple thing, but the more you think about it, the more you realize just how artfully the writers wove this plot. Yes, they made people laugh, but they also added a little playfulness to lighten the intense scenes. They fixed a logical problem without resorting to deus ex machina. And besides all this, they wove one more lesson into the theme: everyone has a purpose and a part to play, and everyone you meet has the potential to be a valuable friend. Even Todd from eHarmony.

Yep. That’s how we do humor, folks.

Have you seen this brilliant film? What tips have you learned for successfully working humor into a story?

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Playing by the Rules with Description

Narrative is tricky stuff.

Writing teachers throw all kinds of rules at us. Show, don’t tell. Vary the length of your sentences. Show, don’t tell. Adverbs are taboo. Show, don’t tell. Oh, did I mention showing and not telling?

Fantasy writers have the hardest job of all, it seems. When it comes to description, not only are we not allowed to tell rather than show (or use double-negatives), we also are forbidden from using certain narrative tools that help us get the job done. Why? Because some of those descriptions have no place in our fantasy worlds.

“Then Ramilon parked his Corvette by the Waterfall Gate.” (credit)

Let me show you. (Ha, look who’s following the rules!) Say I am writing a scene that takes place just after a battle. Elkay is collapsed beneath a tree, worn out and quite discouraged, when his wife Ivora comes to find him and bring him back to safety. Elkay sees her coming and is overjoyed that someone still cares about him. She looks just like an angel-

HOLD IT! screams the internal editor. No angels! You’re writing in deep POV, which means that you have to step into Elkay’s leathery, mud-covered sabatons and write according to his rules. Elkay has never even heard of the concept of angels; how could he compare Ivora to one?

As much as I hate it, the internal editor is right for once. Elkay doesn’t know what an angel is, nor a demon, nor any such being from the real world. For crying out loud, he doesn’t even know what fantastical creatures like svartalfar would be. When writing a fantasy, I suddenly cannot use the familiar expressions that I use every day without thinking about it. And do you know what? That’s a good thing.

Why? Because when we can’t use all of the common expressions, similes, and other narrative tricks that we love so much, we are forced to come up with our own, and it makes our stories that much more original. If I may steal someone else’s originality to explain, C.S. Lewis puts it best:

Don’t use adjectives which merely tell us how you want us to feel about the things you are describing. I mean, instead of telling us a thing was “terrible,” describe it so that we’ll be terrified. Don’t say it was “delightful”; make us say “delightful” when we’ve read the description. You see, all those words (horrifying, wonderful, hideous, exquisite) are only like saying to your readers, “Please, will you do my job for me?”

Some (most) of these familiar expressions have lost their meaning through overuse. The first time a person uses an expression, his or her friends appreciate the wit and begin incorporating these new figures of speech into their own vocabulary. Then the friends of those friends pick up on it, and then their friends, and so on, until the expression is nothing but trite. It’s just another meaningless phrase among the portmanteaus and colloquialisms of the English language.

Admit it- a few moments ago, when I was talking about my imaginary scene, you expected me to say that I had to step into Elkay’s shoes, didn’t you? But, while you knew what expression I was using, you didn’t even think about what the expression really meant- not until I used an archaic word like sabatons that forced you to look twice.

Meh… who would want to come up with original words to describe this, anyway? (credit)

I’m not saying we should look to startle our readers with our word choice; too often startling them will take them right out of the story. However, I am saying that we should be glad that all these expressions are now off-limits for us. Other writers, like authors of contemporary romance novels or general fiction, have to work harder to eliminate trite expressions from their stories; fantasy writers automatically must come up with their own.

And what if you don’t write fantasy? You can still learn a lesson: eliminate those overused words and expressions from your work anyway. Be original! You may have to look harder, but any writer worth two cents can come up with new ways to tell his or her story.

Yes, sometimes it takes a little bit of brainpower. I did indeed sigh over the lack of the term “angel,” and I did have to describe instead how Ivora looked. I had to show her dark hair over her white dress, her soft round face, her sad smile that made Elkay feel less lonely. But as Lewis would say, when the readers finished reading that description, they could only say, “Ah, Elkay’s guardian angel!”

You know, I think it’s fun to use my imagination instead of asking my readers to please do my jobs for me.

What expressions and words are off-limits in your stories? Have you ever invented your own?