The inciting incident is the event that gets the story rolling, the catalyst that incites and captures the audience’s curiosity. It is where a story really begins. Everything that happens prior to this moment is set-up. Everything that follows should be a consequence of, or informed by, the inciting incident. Without the inciting incident there would be no story (i.e. without the arrival of Buzz Lightyear there would be no 'Toy Story')! 

The inciting incident sets up the dramatic question and is therefore often used to hook an audience in as part of the trailer / poster campaign.

EXAMPLES FROM FILM

What if... '... this guy got you pregnant?' '... you caught the train instead of missing it?' '... you were replaced?' 

PS I love using 'Sliding Doors' as an example - Gwyenth's brunette-story is basically Gwyenth's blonde-story sans inciting incident!

EXAMPLES FROM TV

'Who killed Laura Palmer...?' 'Who is to blame...?' 'Who caused the fatal collision...?'

SERIAL DRAMA

In a series with a finite number of episodes there is an inciting incident for each series (which sets up the theme) as well as an inciting incident for each episode.

EG: In 'The Street' the first episode called ‘The Accident’ has an amazing episodic inciting incident (definitely worth watching if you haven't!) which also sets up the theme of the series – that people are, sometimes unwittingly, connected.

CONTINUING DRAMA

In a continuing drama each strand has an inciting incident. If there is a guest strand (i.e. the 'accident of the day' in 'Casualty') this will have an inciting incident, as will the serial strand. Serialised inciting incidents are usually very small (particularly in soaps) as they are often just re-igniting action set up previously. Also having a series of high octane incidents for each character and every storyline four times a week could feel a little over the top!

REALITY TV

Every episode of 'Wife Swap' (the wives swapping), 'SuperNanny' (Jo Frost arriving), 'How to Look Good Naked' (Gok in front of the three-way mirror) and 'The Apprentice' (Alan getting his task on) has the same inciting incident. Make no mistake the inciting incident is everywhere! 

Incite me baby one more time!

Stay tuned for the next week's installment - the function of the inciting incident.

1. It must characterize the speaker, and perhaps the person addressed. 

2. It must be idiomatic, maintaining the individuality of the speaker, yet still blend into the style of the screenplay as a whole.

3. It must reflect the speaker’s mood, convey his or her emotion, or provide some window into his or her inner life.

4. It must often reveal the speaker’s motivation or an attempt to hide his or her motivation. 

5. It must reflect the relationships of the speaker to the other characters. 

6. It must be connective, that is grow out of a preceding speech or action and lead into another. 

7. It must advance action.

8. It must sometimes carry information or exposition.

9. Often it must foreshadow what is to come. 

10. It must be clear and comprehensible to the audience.

Wilfred the new American import starring Elijah Wood started on BBC3 last week (Tuesdays, 22:30). The thirteen part series follows the lives of Ryan (Elijah Wood) and his neighbour’s dog Wilfred (Jason Gann), the twist being that Ryan sees Wilfred as an Australian man in a dog suit whilst everyone else just sees him as a dog.

David Zuckerman the Showrunner and Executive Producer of Family Guy, created this American adaptation of an Australian television series. Obvious parallels can be drawn between Family’s Guy’s white labrador Brian (“Who do you have to hump to get a dry martini around here?”) and the less cultured Wilfred (“part labrador retriever part Russell Crowe on a bender” according to Zuckerman). But can an offbeat take on Dr Dolittle - where the protagonist can not only walk with the animals and talk with the animals but also smoke bongs, drink Bud and pull birds with the animals – really work?

The pilot kicks the series off with confidence and a laudable lack of exposition. At the end of the first episode we know very little about Ryan, but you can tell a great deal about a man who makes a suicide shake with reduced fat milk and writes four drafts of the accompanying note.  The same goes for Wilfred whose Australian accent, despite having been uprooted to middle America, explains a lot (bar his predilection for Matt Damon flicks). The humour is smart, the concept high and the central relationship great fun.

Unapologetically absurd, the series scores points for not trying to explain or justify the premise – you either go with it or you don’t. However, it is this quirky concept that is both Wilfred’s doing and its undoing. It’s great to hear from the voiceless domestic pet and Wilfred, like a smutty Garfield, tells it like it is. But can thirteen episodes be sustained on this unusual point of access alone? With the first two episodes ‘Happiness’ and ‘Trust’ already feeling repetitive in places, could this be a one trick puppy? The series is based on Gann's 2002 short film http://video.tvguide.com/Wilfred/Short+Film/702849 and feels more suited to this territory or as a one-off feature. So... does this mutt have legs? I, for one, will continue watching to find out.

A showcase for short film writers and directors the Coming Up season on Channel Four is all about

Although this series allows us little more than a glimpse (the longest film is just 25 minutes long) into four very different worlds, the stories are sharp and cohesive. To answer the time constraints the writer, director teams have used an effective shorthand, incorporating great visuals (a crate full of ham-hung humans and a Caesarean scar peeping through the bubble bath) with easy to recognise character traits (Mary’s grip on her can of Special Brew and Martha’s no-go-zone around the carpet). Despite this, some viewers have expressed frustration that the credits roll too soon; their main bug bear being that they want to know ‘what happens next’. It’s true that some of the stories don’t end neatly but I think it's refreshing to find open-ended, thought provoking short films like these. A curiosity about what happens next suggests an audience’s imagination has been captured, unlike recent offerings (The Killing, The Hour) where the story is flogged until we're beyond caring.

Interestingly none of the filmmakers chose particularly likeable protagonists - Kelly is a petulant ex-addict, Tommy a shambolic murderer, Micah a player and ‘English man’ effectively a terrorist bomber. It may be easier to ‘plug in’ to a heroic hero but the characters in this series feel much more realistic because of their flaws. An audience has to empathise with a protagonist but they do not have to be nice. There’s no drama in nice. If the lack of do-gooders hasn’t put some viewers off, the strong language and the gritty themes of the series might, but I applaud a scheme which not only gives new writers a forum but to also let them run with their ideas and explore them in an authentic and powerful way.

Sugartown is the BBC’s latest comedy drama offering based around a small seaside hamlet in the North. The first of three episodes sees the local community join forces to save their town when it’s threatened with redevelopment. 

First things first, Sugartown is a dump. From the locals themselves we hear that ‘nothing good ever happens in Sugartown’ where ‘an aging population and a fading sense of hope’ ‘hasn’t had bingo since ‘83’. The only young person we meet is desperate to leave. New arrivals are equally unimpressed wondering if they ‘have come up North or back in time’. On screen the town is rain-soaked with boarded up shops and a weary looking beach. For an audience to empathise with the community’s ‘fight to retain it’s traditions’ it should surely be apparent what it is that they are trying to preserve?

The locals' plan to attract investment is further proof that life in Sugartown ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Dredging up a historical ‘reputation for dance’ isn’t exactly current or particularly persuasive. What does the community have going for it now if 'regenerated traditions' from the town's 'glorious past' are their only hope of survival? How too can younger members of the group find enthusiasm for the project to save the town when they have seen nothing of any note in their lifetime? 

 I’m all for nostalgia, but not for nostalgia’s sake - if it looks like a dump and has stubbornly remained a dump for decades... then it is a dump. In my opinion the town of Sugartown needs to be a sweeter proposition for the community, and thus the audience, to really care. 

The good people of the Serious and Serial Crimes Unit have been having a bad month. No less than three disaffected white guys with violence on their mind have passed through their patch, clubbing, claw hammering and acid blasting a selection of passers-by.

The random nature of these attacks at an office, a train station, on a school bus; with no focus at all on the victims (we were lucky to get a name) is a very effective way of making an audience feel afraid. It’s a crime spree lottery and ‘It Could Be You’.

Thankfully Luther has the inside scoop, reading these enigmatic killers like cheap novels thanks to his psychological insight ('The opposite of an explosion is an implosion... I think that he wants to use that material to dispose of bodies. I think that Cameron is going for the children'). I was disappointed to note however, that once these criminal masterminds were in his clutches their stories drew to an abrupt close. The patchy interview / talk down scenes did nothing to explore the killers’ motives, leaving all three feeling distinctly similar and easily forgettable.

Why are these bad boys, on crusades of such scale and apparent significance, giving up so easily with so little to say for themselves? If Luther does indeed have a deep understanding of what’s at play why does he leave his audience feeling at best, out of the loop, at worst, cheated? A crime drama needs to be about more than the chase. You could argue the less explanation, the more chilling the crime, the more cautionary the tale... but to me it felt like a riddle left unsolved, a case half cracked. Who are these men? What makes them tick? What is their ultimate aim? Without these answers the audience is left feeling like one of the hit and run victims of these casual killers - bleeding, confused and asking why.