Building Worlds for Fun and Profit

Worldbuilding has been on my mind a lot as of late, this notion within entertainment of a fictional setting, distinct in some way from our own present-day world, but with enough details and internal consistency to ease the suspension of disbelief.

This month I managed to re-watch much of the Lord of the Rings film trilogy with Fenya (and her boyfriend, joining remotely) and had some great discussions with the two of them about the mad genius that was Tolkien. I mean, have nothing but respect for the professor, but creating a fictional alphabet as a young man, then languages to go with the alphabet, then a mythology for the language to depict, and then a world for he mythology to be a part of, all before getting to that opening line of "In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit"? These are not the acts of a rational or well-ordered mind (thank goodness).

There have been other fictional settings for certain, but I fell confident that Tolkien was the first to have taken it to the degree that he did, which gave him the ability to populate his fictions with so many details about history, flora, fauna, cartography, poetry and recipes that it felt real, like a place you could visit. Certainly the appendices to The Lord of the Rings with their family trees, runic alphabets and other details were enough for 13-year-old me two wonder why I had never heard of Middle Earth in school before the point.

Star Trek and Harry Potter have carried on this tradition through tales with a page count exceeding The Lord of the Rings, with fandoms just as encompassing, if not more so. Even though they are adapting a larger volume of source material than even Tolkien, I credit the Marvel Cinematic Universe with creating what is probably the largest cinematic universe, with over 20 entries and no end in sight.

In more recent years, two movies have stood out due to their worldbuilding right out of the gate.

The first is Mad Max: Fury Road (2015). I was not particularly excited to see this movie when it came out in 2015, but it has subsequently become my favourite action movie fo the 21st century, and there is no reason to believe it won't end up being my all-time favourite within the genre.

It didn't accomplish this through its amazing action sequences, reliance on practical effects or unequalled stuntwork. Its appeal is derived from dropping the viewer into an unfamiliar world, a post-apocalyptic pastiche that we believed we had seen before, but is instead new and baffling. 

Within minutes of entry we are introduced to a wholly new culture, with its own language, dress and religion. We start out reeling, baffled, but slowly gain understanding, and finally, insight. The motivations of secondary and even tertiary characters begin to make sense, and sacrifices and redemptions feel even more earned. In the end, you not only feel like you have witnessed a spectacle, not just developed an emotional connection, you feel as if you have briefly been somewhere else. And, if you are anything like me, you want to go back.

John Wick (2014) is another one. This is a movie I was late in getting to, and all the recommendations sounded similar: 'yeah, it is a straight-up action film, but the action is spectacular, and the worldbuilding is really something else.' Both things were true. The action (directed by the former stunt director for the Matix trilogy) is tremendously impressive - maybe not enough to convince someone who is violence-averse, but quality stuff nonetheless. 

And there isn't a lot of room for world-building in a 101-minute movie that is (charitably) 60% fights and chases. But in those brief interstitial moments, you are ice again introduced to a strange new world - one that overlays the chaos of contract assassination and honour among thieves with rules, hierarchy, tradition and oversight.

It rarely does this explicitly, but instead relies on hints, clues, and glimpses of a mysterious superstructure. 1940s-style switchboards and green DOS-box computers are operated by women in post-war dress but with anachronistic facial piercings and tattoo sleeves. Gold coins enable the bearer to purchase almost any service, but no change is ever given. A stately downtown hotel hosts an astounding plethora of killers, with the expectation that no business can be done on the premises.

The structure is never the focus, and is alluded to rather than exposited, which cleverly leaves you wanting more. 

This coyness in building a world has prompted enough interest to merit two John Wick sequels (with a third on the way) as well as a television series based on the hotel itself. A movie with such a paper-thin plot and such a dependence on action set-pieces should be incapable of maintaining such a degree of interest over time, but the appeal lies as much within the world John Wick lives in as it does the creative lethality he displays.

Likewise, I am grateful to hear that we may finally be returning to the world George Miller created for Fury Road in not one, but two films. The first is a prequel featuring the Furiosa character portrayed by Charlize Theron to such tremendous effect, while the second, Wasteland, should show us what's next for Tom Hardy's Max Rockatansky on his road to redemption.

And with any luck, there are aspiring filmmakers watching these movies, and noticing the details, and making notes for worlds of their own creation. Worlds with verve and detail and distinction, worlds unique and intriguing, worlds filled with stories told and untold that keep us coming back for more.