Breaking & Entering: The Rule of Threes Part 3 – Pack A Punch with the Three-peat – Conflict, Theme, and Dialogue

At last we’ve reached the final act of my three part series on using the Rule of Threes to elevate your writing. 

I’m in your corner – here to guide you through the jabs, hooks, and uppercuts, with the help of some writers who have earned their championship belt. This combo of skills will knock the socks off readers, execs, and reps! Convince them that you know the ropes with escalating conflict, characters that illuminate theme, and dialogue that “floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee.”

ICYMI, you can catch Part One, “Create Story Magic With The Rule of Threes,” that defines the rule and its prevalence, as well as why and how it works in story and across most creative endeavors. "Terrific Trios – The Power of Three Characters – The Rule of Threes Part 2" explores characters trios and the variations of One + Three, and when Three equals One.

Once you start thinking about the Rule of Threes, you will find them everywhere. I just discovered a horror novel by Sam Ripley, called The Rule of Three to be released by Simon & Schuster in August 2024, and already set up to be adapted as a film. Its title comes from this chilling little threesome:

Yes, I am obsessed with the Rule of Threes.

Three Act Structure might seem obvious in terms of the Rule of Threes, applying it to conflict can power your plot, adding depth and complexity. If you don’t have conflict, you likely don’t have a movie, or an engaging story in any medium. Conflict drives story.

The Rule of Threes helps you master and maximize conflict.

All strong protagonists want something tangible – their external goal. They want to overcome a debilitating stammer to lead their nation, to keep the city safe from a psychopathic criminal mastermind, to leave their perfect world for the flawed real world in order to save their way of life. The obstacles create conflict. The Rule of Threes is an effective guide to establishing a pattern of your protagonist trying to achieve their goal and failing, once, twice, three times. Each attempt escalates the conflict, and engages the audience as we root for them to succeed.

One: The hero tries and fails. This defines their goal and establishes the obstacle.

Two: The hero tries again. Now the challenge should be even greater, and the failure more spectacular. This builds tension as stakes – what will be gained or lost – rise.

Three: The hero pushing beyond their limits, doing something that they were not capable of until this moment, and they succeed.

Just like “Goldilocks and The Three Bears” – a case study in the Rule of Threes if there ever was one – success on the first try would be too darn easy – not to mention that the story would then end abruptly, leaving us unsatisfied. The second trial and failure shows us that the goal is truly difficult to achieve, and the hero is not yet capable of doing so. Success on the third attempt is “just right,” because the Rule of Threes is inherently satisfying and feels complete to our story-trained minds.

While all stories can be viewed as the hero’s quest for something that they want or need, stories that center on a quest illustrate how trying and failing three times is a successful formula. And it’s an excuse for me to talk about one of my favorite quest films.

The Princess Bride by William Goldman, adapted from his novel of the same name, is all about quests upon quests, and filled with twists to boot.

NOTE: If you are a fan of the film, I implore you to read the novel! It is a jillion and a half times more delightful. Inconceivable but true! Bill, a conspiratorial storyteller and extraordinary raconteur, whispers in your ear, as he sets out to “adapt and abridge” the (nonexistent) novel by S. Morgenstern. A clever interweaving of fiction with a hint of facts, he skips the boring parts – in and of itself a bit of solid storytelling advice! Like the only other patron late at night in a cozy bar, he leans forward and asks, “Hey, wanna hear a story?” Yeah you do!

The thought that you might not know The Princess Bride is inconceivable! (Inside joke! Go watch!) And I do hate spoilers, but even if you haven’t seen the film there is far more deliciousness than I could possibly convey in a quest story that is filled with quests, jam-packed with conflict, obstacles, and twists, and offers up a master class in Rule of Threes. Goldman offers you a ringside seat to the art and craft of the one-two-three combo.

The Overarching Quest: Westley a simple farm hand, works on Buttercup’s family farm. Whatever task she asks of him, he replies, “As you wish.” Ultimately Buttercup realizes this is Westley’s way of saying that he loves her. They are each other’s true loves. Westley sets out to seek his fortune so they can live happily ever after. But Buttercup learns he has died at sea – killed by the Dread Pirate Roberts. Now she has been chosen to marry Prince Humperdinck, but does not love him, and still grieves for her lost true love.

But on the eve of the wedding:

One: Buttercup is kidnapped by three bandits.

Two: They are chased by a Masked Man.

Three: Who is pursued by Humperdinck and his soldiers.

To rescue Buttercup the Masked Man must:

One: Defeat Iñigo Montoya, an expert swordsman in a fencing duel – a battle of skill.

Two: Choke a giant wrestler, Fezzik, into unconsciousness – a battle of strength.

Three: Trick Vizzini, a criminal mastermind, into drinking a deadly poison – a battle of wits.

Surmounting these obstacles, he reveals to Buttercup that he is the Dread Pirate Roberts, the man who killed her beloved. TWIST

She promptly pushes him off a cliff. TWIST

On the way down he yells, “As you wish!” and she realizes that the Masked Man is Westley, who took over for the retired pirate. TWIST

And Buttercup rolls down after him. TWIST

They are reunited, but stuck in The Fire Swamp. TWIST

They must battle: 

One: Lightening-fast quicksand 

Two: Rodents of Unusual Size 

Three: Unpredictable jets of flame shooting from the ground.

Westley protects Buttercup, but as soon as they escape the swamp they are captured by Humperdinck. TWIST

However, Buttercup offers to marry Humperdinck in exchange for Westley’s freedom. Humperdinck agrees. As soon as Buttercup is out of earshot, he turns Westley over to the Count and his torture chamber beneath the castle. TWIST

Humperdinck proceeds with his secret, evil plan to invade neighboring Guilder. He will gain the support of the Florinese people by murdering their beloved Buttercup on the wedding night, and blaming it on Guilder. TWIST

But Buttercup’s love for Westley is so strong that she cannot marry Humperdinck, and intends to kill herself on their wedding night. TWIST

Humperdinck offers to send his fastest ships after Westley, carrying letters asking him to come back to Buttercup. Humperdinck asks her to consider marrying him if Westley does not return. Confident of his love, she agrees.

In Act Three, Westley’s life is on the line. He must survive:

One: Humperdinck’s henchman’s torture chamber, aka The Pit of Despair, leaving him “mostly dead.”

Two: Storming the castle with the help of his new friends Fezzik and Iñigo – a trio that seemed unlikely at the outset.

Three: Intimidating the Prince into surrendering, as Westley is still too weak to fight.

Finally, Westley and Buttercup get their happily ever after!

It’s threes upon threes upon threes! One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three – and we’re waltzing! The Rule of Threes illustrates and escalates conflict. Twists delight us with the unexpected while upping the conflict. 

As Bill understood so well: 

Compelling stories convey resonant messages, which makes them memorable. They should be true to your own beliefs. You can best support a message that you as a artist believe in, that reflects your views on life, and speaks to what you believe really matters. That which moves you, has the power to move others. But first you have to know your deepest beliefs. Such as, “nothing is more powerful than true love, and true love is worth fighting for no matter how hard even if you must risk everything, even your life,” like our friends Buttercup and Westley.

When A-List writers came to speak at my Screenwriting Elevated Online Seminar, I always ask just one question before I hand it over to the class for Q & A.

What themes – a character type, a dilemma, or a conflict, an idea – do you find yourself drawn to, again and again, in your work?

No writer has ever hesitated in their reply. This goes straight to what resonates with them and drives their work. Some people refer to this as Personal Thematic. You can find their answers in my blog, “Screenwriters Speak,”  Discover a fun exercise here to figure out your Personal Thematic – the messages that move you.

This self-knowledge fuels your work and will make you look like a heavyweight in the eyes of the industry.

An excellent way to infuse your story with theme and add depth to the message is to look not only at your protagonist, but also to the primary supporting characters. These characters play a significant role in the story, appear in multiple scenes and acts, and their presence has some repercussions on the plot. They are connected to the main character in a meaningful way. They could be a friend, a partner, or even the villain.

As you are shaping your screenplay, defining these characters in terms of how they relate to the theme, can help them come into focus for you. This gives them added dimension, as well as clarifying the function they serve in the story. How do they impact the protagonist? Do they reflect a differing point of view on the theme? Or perhaps they believe the opposite of the theme, the antithesis? Their different perspectives add depth to your message.

I like to use the Wagon Wheel as a visual metaphor, with the core concept of the theme as the hub, and main and primary supporting characters as the spokes that connect to the center, representing different perspectives on the message.

With the spokes in place, that wheel can really roll, elevating your story and bringing momentum to your career. Tying the primary supporting characters into the theme makes your story feel dimensional and focused and your writing deliberate.

As discussed in the Rule of Threes Part 2, Jaws, based on the novel by Peter Benchley, and adapted for the screen by Benchley and Carl Gottlieb, is a classic example of Character Trio paradigm “When Three Equals One.” That fuzzy math looks at the defining traits of the three significant characters, each representing one part of human personality according to psychoanalytic theory.

The theme of Jaws could be articulated in a sentence, such as: “If we don’t conquer our fears, our fear will conquer us.” But the center of the Wagon Wheel has room for just one word, in this case “FEAR.” Boiling a theme down to a word or perhaps two, forces you to focus your thoughts.

Audiences identify strongly with the character that most closely represents us in the world of the story. They might be new to that world, experiencing it for the first time, as are we. Protagonists most often represent the ego. Brody, whose reaction is most likely to mirror own – utter terror at the giant shark gobbling people up – is the ego. Thrill-seeking, impulsive Hooper falls neatly into the category of the id. He is driven by his needs and desires to throw himself into the experience, and literally into the water. Quint represents the conscience and moral judgments of the superego. He has learned from experience that we humans are out of our element on the ocean. He wants to get the shark, but that is mitigated by his desire to keep everyone safe and to stay alive.

A protagonist struggling with the core concept, plus at least two primary supporting characters with opposing points of view, equals narrative tension. Each supporting character pulls in the hero in a different direction. Which way will Brody go in this inner tug-of-war represented by the supporting characters? Will he become more like Hooper, or more like Quint to achieve his goal of keeping people safe? Or will he take some characteristics from both men?

I reference this film time and again. First, because I know that you know it. But the real reason is that I read the book as a little kid. My house was filled with books, and we could read anything. Thanks Mom and Dad, that’s probably why I’m still obsessed with stories and words. I finished late at night, definitely past my bedtime. And I was afraid to even go into the bathroom! I grew up in a small beach community on the Gulf Coast of Florida. I went to Marine Biology summer camp. As a camp counselor, I taught swimming to kindergarteners. Heck, I had earned my Junior Lifesaving Badge! I wasn’t afraid of the water; it was the story that scared me.

I was older when the movie came out. I loved the scares, but the moment that will stay with me forever is watching the film in our local, rundown movie theatre. The moment when Hooper dives down and finds the shark-sized hole in a sunken boat, finds a giant shark’s tooth, and then the severed head floats into view – everyone in the theatre gasped and threw themselves backwards. Hard enough that it rocked the entire row old theatre seats. And THAT was the very best part. In that moment, I understood the power of story to literally and metaphorically rock us.

This detour into my childhood, sponsored by Starkist Tuna, is to encourage you to try the Wagon Wheel, and work to give everyone in the audience a character that they can relate to. Make your story visceral and you will move mountains, and yes, even jaded readers. Dig into the foundation of story, which I do with all my consulting clients, and you will understand the forces that make the wheel roll. You can take a deep dive with me into the foundation of Jaws here.

With the spokes in place, that wheel can really roll, elevating your story and bringing momentum to your career. Tying the primary supporting characters into the theme makes your story feel dimensional and focused and your writing deliberate.

Industry gatekeepers and reps are likely to be impressed with your skills and storytelling. A strong theme helps it “click” with producers and directors when that message speaks to them. It grabs their interest and makes them eager to do the hard work of pushing the boulder up the hill to get your story to the screen.

And, should your project move into production, A-List actors who can pick and choose their roles are more likely to be drawn to complex, dimensional parts that express themes that resonate with them personally.

Even if audiences don’t chat about the theme as they exit the theatre, it registers subconsciously and will give your movie resonance. Movies with universal themes are more likely to become beloved classics that we watch time and again.Industry gatekeepers and reps are likely to be impressed with your skills and storytelling. A strong theme helps it “click” with producers and directors when that message speaks to them. It grabs their interest and makes them eager to do the hard work of pushing the boulder up the hill to get your story to the screen.

And, should your project move into production, A-List actors who can pick and choose their roles are more likely to be drawn to complex, dimensional parts that express themes that resonate with them personally.

Even if audiences don’t chat about the theme as they exit the theatre, it registers subconsciously and will give your movie resonance. Movies with universal themes are more likely to become beloved classics that we watch time and again.

Nope, not talking about ménage a trois, I am referring to dialogue. Creating a recognizable pattern to underscore something significant.

Truthfully, in this, the last of my trilogy on the Rule of Threes, I’m getting to my favorite, and the one that I find myself discussing with writers on both projects I am producing and with consulting and mentorship clients.

I am fascinated by the use of words, the power of getting the exact right word, the perfect phrase, and the smoothly flowing sentences.

A lovely, talented writer friend recently sent me this quote that truly resonated for me:

While there are many memorable and often quoted iconic movie lines – from the on set joke, “You’re gonna need a bigger boat!” to “I'll have what she's having,” another on set improv, there is no predicting what will stick. But you can use the Rule of Threes dialogue lean, focused, and resonant. When three things are listed in conjunction with a repeated phrase, it is more likely to be memorable.

What I call a “thruple” is actually known as a “triad,” the use of three connected phrases that create a pattern and a rhythm. Those that are short and memorable have persisted in our minds for decades, and became part of our shared vernacular. Another rhetorical device, “anaphora,” is repeating the same sequence of words at the beginning of clauses or lines of dialogue, adding oomph. 

Think of these devices as BOLD, CAPS, AND UNDERLINING for our ears!

Bring them together very selectively. Ensure the point hits home in moments of great significance to the story, of great meaning to the theme, of great insight into characters. (Oops, I did it again.)

Speechwriters refer to the repeated use of phrase as anaphora. The oratory of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. soars in his “I Have a Dream” speech. He uses the title  phrase at the beginning of eight successive paragraphs. 

A call for justice. 

A call for freedom. 

A call to action. 

It is considered to be the speech of the century, with some making the case that it is the best speech in the English language.

Since we’re talking boxing, here are some great examples from films set in the ring, in a sport that’s ripe for great heroes and immense tragic falls.

The rhythm and cadence created by the combination of anaphora and triads is pleasing to hear. It has kept this movie quote going for 70 years and counting. You know it even if you’ve never seen On The Waterfront. Set in the back seat of a moving car, with streetlights intermittently illuminating the faces of boxer Terry, and his older brother, Charlie. The scene is heart wrenching. The quote is timeless. Brando is impeccable. Watch it.

This example falls short of the pattern that has persisted for centuries, but it is a first screenplay, it is in the voice of the character, and it hits the theme three times, speaking to the concept of winning: that “going the distance” is still a triumph in the ring and in life.

The film version of boxer Jake LaMotta’s life has this quiet scene in a script full of raging, as he laments to his brother about his small hands. It includes two triads and anaphora, underscoring the tragedy and offering a glimpse into the hidden frustrations that fueled the character’s anger. At just 51 words, it packs a wallop.

Trivia tidbit: At the end of Raging Bull, Robert De Niro, now a has-been, is in his dressing room. To psyche himself up before going out to perform a stand-up comedy routine, he delivers Brando’s speech from On The Waterfront into the mirror. 

No discussion of dynamite dialogue would be complete without Aaron Sorkin. He is a lauded writer, but he is revered for his dialogue. He started as a playwright. As plays are almost entirely dialogue, writers who transition from theatre to television – especially as TV tends to be more dialogue-driven – as well as to film, tend to have serious dialogue chops.

Sorkin’s play A Few Good Men garnered attention while he was still holding readings. Iconic producer, David Brown, snapped up the film rights before the play even hit the stage. A Few Good Men went on to be a box office and critical success. As well as to have a line of dialogue that stuck around in popular culture: “You can’t handle the truth.”

And while it’s that line alone that is quoted, the entire scene is a powerhouse. Of course it begins like any other trial, with Jack Nicholson’s Colonel Jessup swearing to tell, “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,” thanks to whoever wrote that somber triad. And it builds from there. The entire sequence is a barnburner with escalating conflict and twists. As the scene is about to peak, the description calls for Kaffee, played by Tom Cruise, to “plow through the objections of ROSS (his more experienced co-counsel) and the admonishments of RANDOLPH.” (the judge)

Watch for yourself and notice the repetition of the phrase, “the truth,” and the tonal shifts that make it stand out.

Sorkin’s trademark “walk and talk” scenes advance the narrative at the same brisk pace as the actors rushing through corridors. There is a deft cadence and distinct rhythm to his dialogue. Prolific showrunner Mark Goffman, who I interviewed in my October 2023 column on the series premiere of his NBC show The Irrational, got his start on The West Wing. He said he instantly immersed himself in musical theatre as that was part of the language of the writer’s room. Mark described Aaron’s approach to dialogue and language as having an inherent “musicality,” and added that there was “very often an orchestral structure to the episodes.”

So how do you bring that desirable quality to your work? Many people believe that writing great dialogue cannot be taught; you just have an ear for it, or develop one. I think it’s just the way some people’s brains are wired.

It might be too late for you to become a high school theatre buff. And while you can eavesdrop in every coffee shop you hang out in, you will either be able to create dialogue that has verisimilitude, or you won’t. But never fear – the Rule of Threes is here to help you in a clinch.

Apply this technique to your dialogue when the story calls for a significant moment and you want it to land with visceral impact. A mentee of mine who is blazing through a second script after his first landed a producer, a production company, and a prestigious director, recently wrote a good line in the midst of an argument between two characters, that we readily honed into a triad with anaphora:

Keep in mind that the triad must build, and the longest and most significant phrase comes last for maximum impact.

Here’s another example from Aaron Sorkin:

“I don’t understand” is used three times, creating a rhythm. The examples chosen build in scope, underscoring the escalating urgency. When you watch this scene, it does not feel repetitive; it is engrossing. This is a high-stakes, clock-ticking conversation. It’s during a brief recess in the middle of a congressional hearing. The brilliant high-powered attorney representing him wants answers. He has been resisting telling her for hours; he is attracted to her and wants to ask her out before his secret is revealed. That subtext is established in the lead-up to this scene to ensure that the tension starts high and escalates as time literally runs out. Once he makes his admission, he is intent on conveying something he knows she can’t comprehend. She is logical, and this is not logical. It builds to the payoff that breaks the pattern and the rhythm, further highlighting it: “How can you have enough of feeling like this? How can you not want to feel like this longer?”

You can watch here, but first try this exercise:

Read the passage aloud and clap your hands on each syllable. Slap the fingers of your right hand hard against the palm of your left hand on each stressed syllable. It makes a loud, sharp sound. On each softer, unstressed symbol, slap your right fingers against your left fingers. There’s still a sound, but it lacks the volume and reverberation of striking the palm. This starts with a soft syllable, then a strong syllable.

You will feel the cadence, and the switch up. The words are chosen and sequenced within the sentence by a writer who hears their musicality in his head. It’s literally poetry. I’m not suggesting that you clap out your entire screenplay, and I feel certain you won’t find Aaron tapping out the beats when he’s at the keyboard, but hearing the sound helps train your brain.

Here’s another exercise:

Try to rewrite the sentence: “I don’t understand people who leave half a glass of wine on the table,” as this could have been said may other ways. Then try clapping to the syllables again. Not so easy is it?

You might be concerned that incorporating touches of triads and anaphora into your dialogue will make it sound forced, contrived, or stiff. But you will be using it judiciously. In Part One of The Rule of Threes, I wrote entire paragraphs in triads to explain the Rule of Threes. I doubt it bothered you. It hopefully seemed like a smooth, informative, and entertaining read. It probably felt complete – satisfying. I’ve liberally sprinkled triads and hints of anaphora throughout this article. It's how our brain learns readily and easily. Three reasons. Three examples. Three explanations. No more, no less, just right.

Just like boxers do “the roadwork,” long distance running to build strength and stamina as well as mental acuity, screenwriting is a marathon, a test of both endurance and aptitude. 

Put in the work. 

Practice, practice, practice! 

Please keep going.

Think of the Rule of Threes as a triathlon. Experiment, find you best event, and start shrewdly incorporating some of these techniques into your scripts. Eventually, you’ll be punching above your weight. Prove you’ve got the chops, and go from being a challenger to the industry considering you a champion – and everyone roots for the champ!