As melody, harmony, and rhythm form the basis of music, the first, second, and third act form the basis of story. This applies to screenplays, novels, short stories, poems, and any type of story imaginable.
Brian McDonald refers to the first, second, and third act as the proposal, argument, and conclusion. I've adopted that phrasing, as I consider it most helpful. It's certainly more helpful than beginning, middle, and end. That accomplishes practically nothing. By the end (…uh I mean conclusion) of this read you will understand the practical purpose of using the three act structure, and the magic it adds to stories.
Proposal
The first act is a proposal. It is also a sort of agreement. Let's talk about the agreement for a moment.
When you begin a book, you know nothing. You don't know who the protagonist is, what the protagonist wants, when they want it, where they want it, or why they want it. Every demonstrative is up in the air. And it's the writer's job, your job, you inform the reader of those matters. When you begin a new story you are also blind to the premise of the story, unless you've read a blurb or spoilers. Let's assume you haven't. So you don't know what the story is about at it's core. How long do you suppose a reader, or even yourself, would chance a read if after twenty, or even thirty pages, you didn’t have a sense of the writer’s direction?
In Finding Nemo, we are immediately made aware of what the story is about. The writer, Andrew Stanton, informs us that Finding Nemo is about fear denying a good father from being one. Marlin wants to be a good father, but fear holds him back. When Marlin loses Nemo we know that Marlin must overcome his fear of the ocean to save Nemo. That is what the story is about. That’s the agreement.
Whether it's a chameleon becoming a hero (Rango) or an fearful fish saving his son, when the writer does their job there is no mistaking the proposed agreement of what we should care about. But in order to write well, you must be aware of the agreement you, as the writer, compose for the reader. You create the terms! You propose the agreement. That's your responsibility alone. And it will be on you if the terms and agreement are broken. Know what you're saying before you start writing.
Argument
So, you've set up a proposal and the reader has agreed to it. Great! That’s not easy. But now isn’t the time to celebrate. Now is the time for conflict. This is where creativity takes center stage. But the second act is never, never about filling space. In the second act you must build towards the midpoint and the darkest hour.
At the midpoint there will be a change in the nature of the conflict. In Finding Nemo, this is when Marlin becomes less afraid of the ocean. He wakes on the back of Crush the sea turtle and shares his story of finding Nemo. In Cars, this is when Lightning McQueen begins to enjoy living in Radiator Springs. In both examples there is a change in the nature of the conflict.
In Star Wars, the midpoint is when the Millennium Falcon reaches the coordinates of Alderaan, only to find the Death Star. This is when Obi-Wan famously says, “That’s no moon. It’s a space station.” This changes the nature of the conflict. The conflict is no longer about finding Alderaan, but escaping the Death Star. Star Wars is a perfect example of building to the midpoint in the second act. Once you arrive at the midpoint, the subversion of expectations keeps you engaged.
The Darkest Hour works very similarly. It occurs just before the curtain falls at the end of act two. The Darkest Hour is when hope is lost for the protagonist. In Finding Nemo, the Darkest Hour occurs when Marlin finds Nemo in the dentist office and sees what he believes to be the carcass of his dead son. Marlin’s greatest fear has come to pass and he can no longer redeem himself. Marlin’s fear has caused him to fail as a father.
The Darkest Hour leads the protagonist to make a real change. Perhaps this means thinking of their situation differently, or even discovering something new about themselves. The protagonist should have every reason to turn away from the goal. The conflict is too much, they've failed. But something must change within them. Something must change. Enter the third act...
Conclusion
The third act is, in my opinion, the most exciting of the three acts. It is of equal importance to the first act, meaning you cannot have one without the other. Without the third act, the first act will have no resolution, and without the first act there will be nothing to resolve in the third. They are like siblings in that sense. Proposal and Conclusion. Two sides of the same coin. Two pieces of bread with the second act as filling. Of course, the second act has its role to play, and without the second act you would not have a proper story, but without the first and third acts you would not have a story at all. Worse, what you have would all fall apart.
So why is the third act so exciting? Well, the third act is a chance for the writer to hit a home run. I mean, you've spent an enormous amount of time formulating a proposal, stating the proposal, establishing an agreement in the first act, and maintaining that agreement throughout the second act.
Let’s get practical for a moment. Look at the climax of Finding Nemo. Marlin found Nemo and everything is perfect. But only for a moment. A fish net captures Dory and her life is in immediate peril. To save Dory, Marlin must use what he learned about not letting fear deny him of being a good father by letting Nemo help the fish escape the net. Nemo is ready to go, but it is Marlin who must make this climactic choice. The dialogue tells us just that:
NEMO: Dad, I know what to do!
MARLIN: Nemo, no!
NEMO: We have to tell all the fish to swim down together!
MARLIN: Get out of there now!
NEMO: I know this will work!
MARLIN: No, I am not gonna lose you again!
NEMO: Dad, there’s no time! It’s the only way we can save Dory! I can do this!
MARLIN: You’re right. I know you can.
Marlin used what he learned to allow Nemo to save Dory. He learned to temper his fear to be a good father for Nemo. Congrats, Andrew Stanton. You hit a home run.
In the third act you’re driving it all home and wrapping your story up with a nice red bow. It should be exhilarating! You’re taking all that you've put together in the first and second act and saying "See, this is how we should live." And if it is done right, and you are speaking the truth, people will start to live that way!
A first act won't change minds, neither will the second, but the third act has the ability to shape the world.
The three-act structure is not just a framework; it's a powerful tool that shapes how stories are told and received. The proposal, argument, and conclusion are not arbitrary divisions but essential components that guide both the writer and the audience through a narrative journey. The proposal sets the stage, the argument builds the tension, and the conclusion delivers the payoff. Each act is interconnected, forming a cohesive whole that engages, entertains, and, if done right, inspires change. So, the next time you dive into a story, pay attention to its structure. You might just uncover the secret to its magic.