Loss is a big part of how stories engage us, develop the plot, and help us understand characters. In many cases, loss is inextricable from the main characters goal. For instance, Dorothy’s goal in The Wizard of Oz is to get home. Therefore, she has to have lost her home. Some stories, are driven by a whittling away of the good things in life. In The Natural, the hero has talent, health, opportunity, and a woman who adores him. He loses his innocence. He loses his health, which makes his talent irrelevant and costs him his opportunity, and, in a way, he loses himself, which is why he ends up abandoning the woman he loves.
So, let’s look at this in terms of story:
Getting back what’s lost. Here the main goal— and the story question—is about recovering something lost at the very beginning of the story. Stories about healing or revenge often turn on this. In Regarding Henry, the protagonist loses his memory and nearly dies when he’s shot, and the story is about recovering health and an identity that is better than the one he lost. Or, as with The Searchers, a beloved family member is kidnapped and must be rescued. Or, with a movie like Munich, the Black September members who killed eleven Israeli Olympic athletes are hunted down, one by one, to balance the scales of justice.
Forcing change. In Star Wars, Luke is not especially interested in taking his chances on an adventure with Obi-Wan until his regular life faces disaster. He loses his home and his family, and that frees him from what he believes are his responsibilities. But it also initiates a larger goal of seeking justice. He does not want the empire to continue to take away the normal things of life from others for its own purposes. His major loss is replaced with a new life’s focus. He has another pivotal loss when Obi-Wan is killed. It forces him into more of a leader ship role. He grows up in ways that otherwise would be unimaginable.
Creating obstacles. In scores of cowboy movies, the hero’s gun jams or runs out of bullets. With the loss of the weapon, the hero is put at a greater disadvantage. Often, this results in a fist fight (a classic roll in the ditch) or forces a new strategy. Characters lie and lose their credibility. They have to re-establish trust with others. Characters may be humiliated— as happens with the” costume party” that embarrasses the protagonist in Legally Blonde when Elle shows up dressed like a playboy bunny. Even though it wasn’t her fault, it leads to a loss of reputation and allies, which she needs to fit in.
Shifting power. The most obvious of these is when the villain steals something from the hero. A clear example is in Raiders of the Lost Ark, where Belloq takes the Ark from Indy.
Sacrifice. From the New Testament to Karras in The Exorcist to Walt Kowalski in Gran Torino, dying for others is the climax. But sacrifices can be less dramatic and still be effective. I Remember Momma is filled with modest, but affecting, sacrifices the family members make for each other.
Exchange. For an evil example, there’s Faust selling his soul for knowledge. In a positive example, Luke gives up control (and his computer’s aid) to use the Force, allowing him to destroy the Death Star.
Never really lost. Ob-Wan still has contributions to make after his demise. E.T. is resurrected (apparently). In Heaven Can Wait, Joe Pendleton not only gets to come back to life, he gets another chance to quarterback the Rams in the Super Bowl. And back in Kansas, Dorothy finds versions of all the friends she left behind in Oz.
Of course, loss doesn’t always have to be central to a powerful and entertaining story. In Marty, the title character has never had much. He isn’t good looking, doesn’t have much power, demands little respect, lacks self-confidence, and, at thirty-six, still lives with his mother. He has his butcher shop, his customers, a family that takes him for granted, and immature and feckless friends. In a way, he has never grown up, and he doesn’t have much to lose. It’s an odd coming of age story about a middle-aged man who grows up. But the emotional core is the surprising gain of a woman who cares for him, and the wonderful wrenching change recovering her after losing her requires.
So, lives, treasures, opportunities, reputation, and loved ones can be lost. So can innocence, self-confidence, influence, health, sanity, allies, and power. But whatever is lost (even if only apparently) can reveal who your characters really are, make audiences love them or worry about them, provide insights about important themes, surprise, and engage. As long as you include one element — whatever is lost, no matter how intrinsically vital or frivolous, must be deeply meaningful to your characters. Otherwise, the audience won’t care
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