How Amazon Prime’s star-studded TV series — and non-stop sob fest — sets the bar for an exceptional narrative
I confess that before this weekend, the sum total of my Anne Hathaway viewing was in 2001 when I humoured my sister by going to see The Princess Diaries, an infuriatingly trite rags-to-riches tale about an awkward American teen who suddenly becomes, well, a princess. Let’s just say that while my sister appreciated my willingness to accompany her to watch her guilty pleasure, she could have done without my snarky “oh, c’mon” after each cliché I had to endure.
I’m happy to report that American storytelling — and Anne Hathaway — redeemed themselves over the weekend with a harrowing story of love that at once entertained, challenged and completely surprised me. A rare feat. Here are three ways the Amazon Prime series Modern Love did it. (And yes, spoilers galore will follow.)
Make the everyday relatable
In episode three, “Take Me as I Am, Whoever I Am,” Hathaway plays Lexi, a over-achieving New York entertainment lawyer looking for love. And why not? She’s quirky, beautiful and — it appears — can sing and dance like a Broadway star. (Yup, definitely shed her awkward Princess Diaries years.) Our story opens with Lexi in an agonizingly familiar moment for those of us who are single — staring at her computer about to update her dating profile for the umpteenth time. It’s that classic “Once upon a time” setup, but also what storytelling savant Kenn Adams would call an “Every day” moment — the context we need to understand this protagonist, her universe and her motivation.
Dating profile aside, things seem to go well for Lexi one morning as she chats up an irresistible beau in the produce aisle of a supermarket, then quickly agrees to an impromptu and flirtatious breakfast.
Then … disrupt the everyday
Lexi is on Cloud Nine. Her post-breakfast saunter to her car literally turns into a song-and-dance number — a visual metaphor for the irrepressible delight of this character. As she gushes to her work friend, Sylvia, we sense, however, that Lexi and love don’t last. “I thought you were seeing that musician guy,” Sylvia asks, puzzled. “It wasn’t a match,” says Lexi, to which her friend snaps, “You’re way too choosey.” Unphased, Lexi gets ready for her next date with produce guy — a hint of what Adams would call a “But, one day …” moment.
You see (spoiler!), Lexi has bipolar — a secret she’s kept since she was 15 and one that leads to debilitating bouts of bed-ridden depression. Lexi tries to make good on a second and even a third date with her supermarket super-hunk, but the timing of her mood conspires against her. “I’ve had the flu,” she stammers on date number two, searching for one of many excuses she’s trotted out over the years. But this time, the excuses run dry and Lexi spirals, unable to bounce back. She loses her new love interest, her job and almost Sylvia’s friendship.
This conflict-riddled part of the story is what Adams calls the “dire consequences for having broken the routine” — the routine being Lexi’s perpetual rebounding and covering up the dark mystery in her life. Her pain is real and relatable as she sobs in bed, her date walking away into the night. “Surely there’s someone out there who will take me for who I am,” Lexi’s voice over pleads.
And finally … a refreshing surprise
At this point you might be thinking, as I did, that Lexi’s wish is about to come true. Produce guy will sprint back and take Lexi for who she really is. The end.
Not so fast! What elevates Modern Love here is that the climax — the penultimate ingredient of Adams’ story arc — completely caught me off guard in heartbreaking fashion. As Lexi grimly leaves her office for the last time, Sylvia asks, “Can we get coffee?” What follows is an agonizing scene in which Lexi can no longer escape the antagonist. Herself. “I’m bipolar,” she tells Sylvia, followed by an avalanche of reasons why she’s such an “impossible” friend.
Lexi’s bravery is rewarded. Sylvia holds her gaze and asks questions, ready to accept Lexi for who she is. Suddenly, Lexi no longer has to live her darkest moment alone. In the final scene — the moment Adams terms “And, every since then …” — Lexi is back at her computer. After baring all with her diagnosis, she confidently signs off her dating profile: “This is me. If this doesn’t scare you off, feel free to leave me a message.”
Modern Love succeeds as so many good stories do by getting us to care about the protagonist and the stakes she’s up against. What exalts this story from good to great is how it defies the “Prince Charming” trope by making Lexi the one who needs to save herself. Her courage is raw, honest and, most of all, real to life. That true-to-the-character plot twist is something that Pixar, the undisputed champions of animated storytelling, would applaud, and it made my weekend.
Incredible to think that Disney, creator of The Princess Diaries and many other predictable storylines, now owns Pixar. Now that’s another plot twist I didn’t see coming!
The Story Spine
Here is a quick summary of Adams’ storytelling format, the Story Spine — created in 1991 but still relevant today:
- The Beginning: “Once upon a time …” The world and routine of the protagonist is established.
- The Event: “But one day …” The routine is disrupted.
- The Middle: “Because of that …” The dire consequences of the disruption play out.
- The Climax: “Until finally …” Our hero seeks to overcome the adversity.
- The End: “And ever since then …” The hero is victorious (or fails) and establishes a new routine.