Welcome to the first of my Saturday Morning Stories series, Reader!
I wanted to start this series because, as with writing and speaking, the way you get better at storytelling is you study how people tell stories. It’s really that simple. But also it should be fun. For me, that joy has always been tied to TV and movies. I can’t help myself, I’m constantly watching for the ways stories get told inside them.
Back in my 20’s, my then-husband was an aspiring screenwriter, so we went to the movies. A LOT. At least three a week. Sometimes even two in a day (that was back when a matinee was $2.50). We would talk about the movie in the car on the way home. But not in the typical, “what did you like about the movie?” kind of way, but instead, we would deconstruct it. What worked? What didn’t work? What characters felt underdeveloped or superfluous? Did the plot line have any obvious holes? I swear that man ruined movies for me, but as a writer and storyteller, I think he actually gave me a gift.
Remember Saturday mornings growing up? Pajamas, a bowl of sugary cereal that turned the milk a funny color, and hours of cartoons before the parents even got up. This series is kind of like that, except instead of Scooby Doo solving mysteries, we’re cracking open the secrets of why certain stories work and how you can use those same moves in your own work.
Each week, I’ll take a story from film or TV (and probably some books, too) and break down the storytelling structure that makes it all work. Think of it as your grown-up Saturday morning lineup. No commercials, just story magic. Well, maybe I’ll find a fun commercial to break down, too.
This idea was inspired by Sam over at Indie Copy Studio, who challenged herself to send a weekly email over a year ago and is still going strong. Her emails are a delight and very much worth the subscribe.
If weekly feels like too much in your inbox, I get it! You can always update your preferences at the bottom of this email to turn this one off and still get my other content.
Okay, Reader. The previews are over. The lights are dimming. The movie’s starting. Let’s go.
If you’ve been in one of my coaching sessions where I talk about the craft of story, you already know that I’m going to kick off this series with the opening scene of one of my favorite movies of all time, Disney Pixar’s Monster’s Inc. I saw it in the theater and it was my favorite animated film long before I had my daughter.
If you’re not familiar with the premise of the film, the reason monsters exist to scare children is because the kids' screams are the power source for their city. Also, monsters are actually afraid of children because they believe them to be extremely toxic. The power plant’s top scaring team, James P. “Sully” Sullivan and Mike Wazowski accidentally let a child into Monstropolis, and in trying to cover up their mistake, they reveal a much more sinister plot.
Which is why the opening scene is so perfectly crafted:
In three minutes and seventeen seconds, the entire story is set up without a second wasted.
Let’s break it down.
The scene opens with parents putting a kid to bed. As he drifts off to sleep and the quiet of night sets in, he’s suddenly awoken by a sound in his room. He looks around, eyes wide, heart racing, and he swears he sees something, but on second look, it’s just a shirt…or is it?
This is the emotional hook. Whether you’re a parent who has lovingly checked the room for monsters or you flash back to your own childhood, there’s a moment of familiarity—or dare I even say nostalgia—in this moment. You’re no longer a witness to the scene, you’re now a part of it.
The child rolls over and falls back asleep as a scary looking monster slides into the room, and assumes the scare position. The child wakes up and sees the monster, but when the child screams, the monster screams back. In that tiny, funny moment we learn a crucial truth: monsters are afraid of children. The stakes are set clearly, quickly, and in a way that makes you want to know more. It’s just a moment, but it builds tension and piques our curiosity. Why, if monsters are afraid of children, would they be sneaking into their rooms at night?
Just when you realize you’re holding your breath, the writers cut the tension with comic relief. The scene collapses into slapstick, reminding us that even scary things can be disarmed with humor. That balance matters, especially if you’re working with hard or heavy material.
The scene breaks and we discover this whole moment is inside a training simulation, and poor Phlegm is teetering on the verge of having a panic attack while the trainer asks what his huge mistake was. Blank looks appear on everyone’s faces, while Phlegm nervously offers up a completely wrong answer. This is relatability beautifully woven in. Everyone who’s ever been put on the spot in a training or workshop knows exactly what that moment feels like.
His fellow trainees cringe in fear as the company president, Mr. Waternoose steps in and reveals how critical the screams are to the monster world (they literally power the city), and states that children are extremely toxic to monsters. His words tell us that these trained monsters are extremely important, and their role is highly respected, but also incredibly dangerous. It’s a foreshadowing breadcrumb that plants the seed for Boo’s arrival and hints at Mr. Waternoose’s hidden agenda without giving away the ending.
The thing I’ve always loved about this scene is how simple it is. It’s not a huge prologue, or a drawn out voice-over setting the stage. Everything you need to know happens in the first four minutes of the movie, and it’s revealed quickly in small details.
Too often in speaking, we skip the setup because we’re trying to cut for time or “get to the point.” Sometimes we overthink it, trying to make the hook flashy or obvious. But the thing is, if it’s done well, you generally don’t need more than a couple of minutes in setup and the rest of the story falls into place.
When you’re crafting your next story, anchor your audience in with a solid setup. It doesn’t have to be fancy, it just has to land.
If you have a favorite show episode or movie that you’d like me to take a look at, hit reply and let me know!
See you next Saturday!
