Engineering the Midpoint: Faulty Logic for Screenwriters

Engineering the Midpoint through Faulty Logic for Screenwriters

How People Come to Conclusions

This post is about engineering the Midpoint of your film. But first we need to talk about how people form conclusions—especially the wrong ones.

This involves two words that many people know but few actually understand: deduction and induction.

Let’s start with a quick definition. According to Angus Fletcher of Ohio State’s Project Narrative, deduction “works top-down to impose preexisting ideologies on subsequent discoveries.” That is, start with a rule and apply it to whatever problem arises.

It’s a bit like an algebra problem: all the data is there and you apply certain rules to come to a conclusion. Essentially, the data is already all on the page, but you’re applying rules to rearrange it into a new form, say “solving for x.”

We also understand “deduction” as the thing that Sherlock Holmes claimed to be doing. The problem is that Holmes wasn’t truly doing deduction. He was doing induction.

Deduction vs. Induction

Again, deduction is logical algebra: you have a set of rules (equations, logic axioms, what have you), and you apply them to reach a guaranteed result. It simply reorganizes what you already know.

Induction can be thought of as the reverse of this: it involves looking at evidence and using this to update understanding. In other words, this means creating new generalizations based on experiences. This can be used for good (scientific hypotheses) or ill (conspiracy thinking).

In any case, induction is best understood through a simple example:

Induction: The sun has risen every day for six billion years. Therefore, it will rise tomorrow.

Now it’s important to understand that there is no absolute guarantee that the sun actually will rise. There are way too many dipshits with their itchy, fat old man fingers poised on Big Red Buttons to make that 100% sure. Still, even though past does not predict the future in any general sense, we work on the (inductive) assumption that the sun will in fact rise tomorrow.

This assumption is a leap of faith.

As such, induction is unreliable.* The only way that we can test whether an induction was valid is through empirical verification. In other words, we only know after the fact whether that leap of faith connected the gap.

Naturally, the further the leap, the more likely it is to be wrong. And if you understand this principle, it shows exactly how to engineer the Midpoint of your screenplay.

*Or simply totally incorrect if you want to get Popperian about it.

Induction in Screenwriting

The protagonist doesn’t merely react to events (or at least I hope not!). She interprets them. She has a model of the world that is somehow flawed. She believes that she understands how the world works.

She has made a logical leap based on everything that she has seen so far. The first half of the movie seems to support her conclusion. Things are cool. The mission is copacetic. The love story is starting to sizzle. She’s on track to dunk on the bad guy.

And then… the Midpoint.

This is where the story world shits its pants. This is where we understand that the protagonist’s Weltanschauung is incomplete, flawed, and basically useless.

In other words, her inductive belief that X leads to Y has, rather demonstrably, failed. That means her entire model of the world is now suspect.

This is where to ask yourself:

>What rule(s) has the protagonist created based on her experience?

>What assumption(s) has she made about how her world works?

The Midpoint, naturally, shatters these assumptions.

Reductio ad absurdum

In case the Latin is unclear, that means “reduction to absurdity.”

The idea behind this common logical technique is to take a certain set of premises and follow them to the most ridiculous (absurd) possible conclusion. This is more difficult than it might seem to do working forward; our own prejudices and preoccupations tend to take us down trodden logical paths.

The real way to kill something with the Reductio is this: assume that the conclusion is false while all the facts remain true.

This gives you a way to test the seaworthiness of your argument: if the opposite of the conclusion can be true with the same premises, then there’s clearly a flaw in the argument.

And more often than not, this spurs ideas as to where that flaw lies.

Now let’s apply this process to screenwriting:

Take your protagonist’s logic—her system of how the world works.
Accept this as true for the first half of the film.
Then flip it. Show her the consequences of continuing to believe it: that is, the nightmare version of her original conclusion.
Introduce the missing data point—something she never considered that completely turns the tables.
Show how her model of the world totally collapses based on this miscalculation.

The fourth point–introducing the missing data point–is, of course, your Midpoint.

Midpoint Variations: Three Types of Faulty Induction

Miscalculation

The Protagonist has a largely correct model of the world—but underestimates the stakes or complexity of the situation.

Example: Jaws

Brody and the townspeople believe, once a large shark is caught, that the problem is solved. The community breathes a collective sigh of relief. Then, the estuary attack: Brody’s son is almost killed. They got the wrong shark, and shit just got personal.

The rule was: When the shark is caught, we’re safe.
The missing data point: It might not be the correct shark.

This shock catapults Brody into action: at this point, Act IIb becomes the hunt for the real killer shark.

Writing Exercise:

Consider what your protagonist has “resolved” at the midpoint. How is it possible that she totally misunderstood/underestimated the problem?

Write 250-500 words describing a scene where new shit comes to light for your protagonist.

Misinterpretation

The Protagonist reads the pattern incorrectly, forming the wrong theory.

Example: From Dusk ’til Dawn

The Gecko brothers–and the audience–believe they’re the protagonists in their own movie. Because they are. It’s just that they think the movie is a crime thriller. And then the strippers turn into vampires.

The rule was: This an NBK- or True Romance-style Tarantino road thriller.
The new data point: Oh shit, it’s a Robert Rodriguez horror film.

This radical genre shift hinges on the characters–and of course the audience–misreading the situation. Think this film is a one-off? This is surprisingly common, and effective–watch out for it. Cf. Anora.

Writing Exercise:

Write a scene in which your protagonist believes she is in one genre—but the resolution to her situation belongs in a different genre.

Tip: Flip the tone. Start it like a comedy, and flip it to tragedy (or vice versa). Cf. Psycho.

Lack of Knowledge

The Protagonist simply doesn’t have enough knowledge to form a correct conclusion.

Example: Anora

Up to the midpoint, this is a cute if sort of fucked up romantic comedy. We follow Annie’s charmed meeting with the oligarch’s son, etc. and their whirlwind romance. Then… his parents find out and now it’s a kidnapping thriller.

The rule was: This is a cute romantic comedy.
The new data point: Her new husband is gone and she has to defend herself–alone–against his oligarch father’s ground troops.

Understandably, this changes the entire trajectory of the film: now it’s about how Annie can get out of this situation not just with her dignity, but possibly her future.

Writing Exercise:

Choose a character who’s living a life that seems to be headed toward a nice, tidy conclusion.

Write a midpoint scene where something happens–a key piece of information or a decision beyond her control–that changes the entire trajectory of the film.
Write a midpoint scene where they finally learn the key piece of information that changes everything.

The Death of Certainty

At the Midpoint, the protagonist loses confidence. Clarity. She doesn’t know what to believe.

In a detective story, it’s where the working theory blows up. In a romantic film, the lovers break up. In a war film, the protagonist becomes hip to the fact that playing by the rules will lead to death.

As such, this is the moment where the story becomes emotionally real. Assumptions don’t falter, they shatter.

In short, logic breaks and experience takes over.

Creating Your Own Inductive Logic Trap

Step 1: Identify the Protagonist’s Belief

What rule or assumption is the protagonist working with?

>e.g.“If I keep my head down, I’ll get promoted.” “If I kill the monster, I’ll be a hero.” “If I run away, my problems won’t follow me.”

Step 2: Make That Rule Work… Until It Doesn’t

The first half of the movie validates the belief. The world seems to reward the protagonist. The more empirical evidence that the faulty idea is true, the better the logic trap.

Step 3: Break the Rule

Introduce a piece of information that was missing. This information will invalidate the entire premise. The character must now adapt or die trying.

Step 4: Let It Resonate

This is the point where the character, understandably, wallows in confusion and despair. The story can and should take a darker, more serious tone. This descent takes her to the place where we wonder if she will (metaphorically, or possibly literally) survive.

Midpoint Breakdowns

The Matrix

Neo is told he isn’t The One. Everything he believed about his purported destiny collapses.

The Social Network

Zuck gets sued by Eduardo, who had been the legitimate human relationship in his life.

Whiplash

Fletcher psychologically breaks Andrew; Andrew realizes that greatness may not in fact be worth the cost.

Induction as Drama

Conflict isn’t just about obstacles. It’s about epistemology—our knowledge: what we learn, and whether we learn it in time to apply it to the situation at hand.

The Midpoint isn’t just a twist. It’s a crack in the character’s worldview.

Demonstrate how the protagonist’s belief system collapses under the weight of new evidence. This will give your protagonist–and audience–the opportunity for an emotional transformation.

If you can show us how their belief system collapses under the weight of new evidence, you will give your audience something rare and satisfying: transformation.

Remember, stories are not about proving what we know. They’re about dealing with what we’ve been wrong about the whole time.

Engineering the Midpoint with These Tools

Identify the induction – what has the protagonist decided about the world?
Let it seem correct – until the midpoint proves otherwise.
Use Reductio ad absurdum – follow the protagonist’s faulty logic to an absurd or painful conclusion.
Use one of the classic twist types:
- Miscalculation (they underestimated the danger)
- Misinterpretation (they misunderstood the situation)
- Lack of Knowledge (they didn’t know the whole truth)
Design your midpoint as a death of certainty – the old rules don’t work
Let it reshape their goals – Act IIb should reflect a more uncertain, urgent, or desperate mission.