PERFECT STORIES: THE DARK CRYSTAL (1982)

Another world. Another time. In the age of wonder…

So begins the single most creative, beautiful, terrifying, and uplifting 90 minutes of film you will ever behold.

The Dark Crystal is one of my all-time favorite movies. Jim Henson was, in my opinion, one of the truly outstanding creative geniuses of entertainment history, occupying the same rarefied air as Shakespeare, Georges Méliès, and J.R.R. Tolkien. Henson elevated the art of puppetry to something that had never been dreamed of. It is with a complete absence of irony or exaggeration that many Generation X-ers claim they were “raised” by Henson, in the form of shows like Sesame Street and The Muppet Show, and feature films like Labyrinth and today’s subject, The Dark Crystal.

In addition to the fact that I never getting tired of viewing it, I chose to analyze Crystal for two reasons: first, it provides a good template for world-building in the fantasy/sci-fi genre, especially as it pertains to backstory; and second, it is a near-flawless example of a story built around a single idea, or that which Truby calls the “designing principle.”

The designing principle of Crystal is the duality of human nature; that we are all, in fact, inhabited by two different beings, and that individual “oneness” entails a compromise between those two oft-conflicting elements. In the same vein, on a larger scale, human relationships, to be successful, must be a coming-together of separate beings, together greater than their component parts, but nevertheless retaining those individual components. There is no such thing as all “good” or all “bad.” Many of the “bad” traits we possess are, under the right circumstances, really quite useful. We are imperfect realizations of a perfect ideal.

Henson, in his script, rather than by beating us over the head with bromides about how we’re all better together than apart, shows us the consequences of a world in which a loss of respect for the duality at the heart of all people can lead to terrible—even fatal—consequences. The peace-loving peoples of Thra (the story’s world) huddle in fear of enslavement or death. Having resolved to complete his quest alone, the protagonist, Jen, learns in the end that it is only with the help of others that he can ever hope to succeed. And, in the ultimate expression of the story’s designing principle, it is only through uniting those disparate elements in our souls that the world can be brought back into balance and harmony. More thoughts on this theme to follow…

Crystal succeeds as a quintessential “form” for world-building and backstory for the same reason that George Lucas’ script for the original Star Wars was a master class in backstory, and why his scripts for the later prequels failed.[1] In fact, with maybe a handful of exceptions, most “backstory” and “prequel” type books and movies fail, and all for the same reason.[2] To put it simply: less is more. You need to know just enough backstory to make sense of what you are reading/viewing presently. It’s what you don’t know about backstory that makes it intriguing, sets fire to your imagination, and—in the case of things like the Star Wars and Harry Potter expanded universes—enables countless fan fiction. Backstory does not need to be spelled out to be effective.

That backstory is an element of story structure, and never the focus or raison d’être of story, is a lesson I had to learn myself, and I think this is particularly relevant in the fantasy and sci-fi genres. When I set out to write The Vexing Heirloom in earnest, in 2009, I did so with the intention of writing it as a mere vehicle for backstory. Having spent years (since 1992, in fact) fleshing out the elaborate history, mythology, and original languages of the people that novel deals with, I treated story as a mere formality. For three long and painful years, I struggled to get the story of the ground: I simply could not get the characters to do anything. It was not until I read Truby’s and Edgerton’s books, and began learning directly under Edgerton himself, that I came to understand why my approach was misguided and doomed to failure. Story does not exist to serve backstory; rather, backstory is a part, but never the focus, of story.

How Henson addresses backstory in Crystal is well-worth noting. As I explain in greater detail below, the backstory—or “ghost,” to use Truby’s term—is clear, simple, and immediately sets the stakes for the movie. In the first five or so minutes, we learn that eons ago something terrible happened, and that the movie we are about to watch will depict how that wrong is, hopefully, at long last righted. The script is not bogged down in details. The backstory never overtakes the dramatic action on the screen. Rather, it provides a setting in which that action, nested, can shine.

Two additional points. First, regarding narration, it is typically preferable (at least, in my opinion) to convey exposition through action and/or dialogue, often termed having your writing do “double duty.” Here, the writer must trust the reader (or viewer) to glean this necessary information from the story itself—what your grammar-school teacher may have called “context clues.” This method is preferable because it enables the reader to receive the necessary exposition while not disturbing the fictive dream; i.e., enabling the reader to continue suspending disbelief and “living” the story through the eyes of the POV character, learning as that character does, rather than feeling like a passive spectator. However, in the fantasy and sci-fi genres, typically some leeway is permissible, as the writer must establish the “rules” of the story (which are often not the rules of the normal world) in the first few pages. For the same reason, mass exposition—affectionately called “infodumps” by writers—one of which does occur in the first few minutes of Crystal, are permissible in these genres, where the need to establish the terms on which the story will unfold is uniquely imperative.

Plot and Scene Weave

Ghost/Story World: A castle stands alone on a dry, barren hellscape, devoid of life. A narrator tells us a simple, poignant backstory. The land was green until a crystal cracked and a shard was lost, at which time two new races appeared, the cruel Skekses and gentle Mystics. Through the magic of Henson’s puppetry, we meet the (frankly, nightmare-inducing if you’re a 5-year-old expecting Kermit the Frog) Skekses. The narrator tells us that the Skekses took dominion, that they draw daily life force from the sun via the Dark Crystal, but that their emperor is dying.

Ghost/Story World: Far from the castle, we meet the Mystics, a peaceful race of “natural wizards.” Their situation is eerily similar to the Skekses’, as they draw succor from ritual, while their wisest number lays dying. With these two scenes, Henson has, brilliantly, already set up the outcome of the story. Viewing this for the first time, you may have only subconsciously realized the parallels.

Ghost/Story World: The narrator relates a prophecy that Jen, the last Gelfling (the Skekses killed all the rest) must somehow heal the world.

Inciting Incident (Protagonist): As he dies, the Wisest of the Mystics tells Jen that he must find a crystal shard before the three suns shine as one, or Skekses rule forever, and that Aughrah has the shard.

Plan/Desire (Protagonist): Resolving to go alone, Jen sets out to find Aughrah.

Inciting Incident (Opponent[3]): After the emperor’s death, Chamberlain and General duel for the throne. Chamberlain loses and is banished.

Opponent’s Plan: The Skekses see Jen through the crystal. Knowing the prophecy, they deploy Garthim soldiers to capture (or kill) Jen. Chamberlain follows, to intercept Jen.

Fake-opponent ally/Ghost/Story World: Aughrah, in disbelief that Jen is alive, reveals that Garthim killed all Gelflings (increasing the stakes from prior scene). She also reveals that using her orrery, she learned that a conjunction of three suns is coming, and unless Jen does something (still unclear) with the shard before it happens, the world will be lost to evil. (She’s a fake-opponent ally rather than a true ally because she is as hostile as she is helpful to Jen).[4]

First attack by opponent: Garthim attack Aughrah’s home, capture her, and try to capture Jen.

Audience revelation/drive: Jen escapes with the shard but is seen and followed by Chamberlain (but he doesn’t know this).

Mystery: Hearing the crystal’s call, the Mystics set out for the castle. At this point, we’re unsure why they’re doing this. But this is the starting point on which all plot lines begin running towards an eventual convergence on the castle.

Ally/Ghost: Jen and Kira dreamfast, sharing their childhood memories growing up with their adopted families (Mystics and Podlings, respectively) against the backdrop of genocide by the Skekses, and it is revealed that Kira can communicate with animals.

Changed Plan/Desire (Opponent): After learning from Aughrah that he has escaped, and increasingly paranoid, the Skekses deploy crystal bats to find Jen.

Audience revelation: A crystal bat sights Jen and Kira (but they don’t know this).

Mystery: Mystics continue their journey.

Second attack by opponent: Garthim attack Podling village to capture Jen, but he and Kira escape, through the intercession of Chamberlain, while the Garthim round up Podlings. The “attack” here occurs on two levels: on the superficial level, the Garthim destroying the village is an attack; but on a deeper level, Chamberlain interceding for the Gelflings is a subtler, more sinister “attack” because even if he’s saved their lives, he’s cornering them for a malicious purpose.

Apparent defeat: Despairing that he has brought pain to Aughrah and the Podlings, Jen renounces the quest, tossing the shard away.

Mystery: Mystics continue their journey.

Opponent/Ghost: Jen and Kira find the shard in ancient ruins. Translating glyphs, they realize that Jen must heal the Dark Crystal with the shard.[5] Chamberlain waylays them and tries to trick them into coming to the castle under the guise of seeking peace.

Gate, Gauntlet, Visit to Death/Changed Plan/Desire (Protagonist): Jen, now aware of what he must do, rides off to the castle with Kira (and her pet Fizzgig, who will have an important role).

Audience revelation: In the castle, the Skekses use the Dark Crystal to drain the captured Podlings of their essence for the Emperor to drink, which temporarily rejuvenates him. Scientist says that Gelfling essence worked better. This raises the stakes for Jen and Kira, hinting at their possible fate should they fail.

Opponent: Garthim kill the landstriders as Jen and Kira free the Podlings. In this surprisingly violent sequence, we see the brutality of the Garthim and learn that female Gelflings can fly. Again, the stakes are raised.

Mystery: Mystics continue their journey.

Third attack by opponent/Mystery: In the castle, Chamberlain buries Jen in a rockslide and abducts Kira. Jen stabs Chamberlain with the crystal shard, causing both Chamberlain and a Mystic to bleed from the same place on their hand. This is a critical juncture in the story, when all plot lines (save for one) have converged on the castle, and the story’s huge thematic revelation begins to peek out from behind its cloak of mystery. The juxtaposition of the two hand wounds, a scene which I remember vividly from childhood, is storytelling at its finest, and perfect microcosm of a designing principle unspooling as dramatic action. Watching Chamberlain scream, “my hand!” and a Mystic calmly mutter, “so, my hand,” the viewer cannot help but be struck by the genius of Jim Henson.

Apparent victory (Opponent): Leaving Jen for dead, Chamberlain presents Kira to the Emperor as a gift for the draining of her essence and is pardoned and restored to status.

First counterattack (Protagonist): With Jen’s and Aughrah’s encouragement, Kira calls the captured animals to freedom to save herself, in the process killing Scientist, causing a Mystic to burst into flames and vanish. With this, the final revelation is set up. It should be clear the relationship between Skekses and Mystics now.

Second counterattack (Protagonist): Jen evades Garthim and climbs to the crystal chamber as the Mystics arrive at the castle.

Battle: All threads converge on the Dark Crystal itself as the Great Conjunction comes. The Skekses, not knowing about Jen and believing Kira to be dead, celebrate their victory, while the two Gelflings separately arrive at the crystal. Jen and Kira (and Fizzgig) work together to defeat the Skekses and heal the Dark Crystal, as the Mystics arrive in the chamber and Kira is killed by a Skeksis. The healed crystal glows pure white, binding the Skekses to the Mystics, as the castle sloughs its rotten exterior and the Garthim crumble.

New equilibrium/Moral affirmation: The Skekses and Mystics are reunited in their original form, the godlike UrSkeks, bringing the prophecy to fruition. The UrSkeks lament that their own arrogance broke the crystal, and themselves, asunder in the first place. Reviving Kira and vanishing into the ether, they tell Jen and Kira to build a new world in the light of the pure crystal.

Further Thoughts on Theme

The moral argument at the heart of The Dark Crystal is so beautiful and profound that I cannot help adding a bit more commentary. The World of the Dark Crystal, featuring the artwork of Brian Froud and written by J. J. Llewellyn, and written as a memoir of Aughrah, goes into greater depth on the nature of the UrSkeks and how they are physical manifestations of the story’s theme. As Aughrah observed, “In the hearts of the shining UrSkeks there struggled two beings living within one body—and for them all things were divided so.” She goes on, “They had hoped that by submitting themselves to the light of the Crystal they would purify their divided selves, that everything in them that was less than perfect would be burned away. They had not understood the balance of their souls; they had thought there could be light without darkness, stillness without motion. Instead of perfection they had achieved division, dark from light, force from virtue, Skeksis from [Mystic].”[6] Thus, must the individual—even the divine—come to terms with both the “light” and “dark” qualities of his or her nature, both of which are vital.

Perhaps this is a projection of my own bottomless capacity for limerence, but I believe this moral argument applies not only to individuals but to relationships, particularly intimate relationships; specifically, the way in which those relationships are broken and then healed. As Llewellyn’s text reveals, the UrSkeks initially sundered themselves in one Great Conjunction, and it is only though another such conjunction, with the crystal harnessing the power of all three suns at once, that they can hope to be reunified. Thus, the Great Conjunction—potentially redemptive, potentially cataclysmic—symbolizes (at least, to me) a fast-closing window in which a sundered relationship must be redeemed, or else lost forever. In other words, time is not on the side of lost love, and although people have within them an expansive capacity for reconciliation, that capacity is not infinite. On this line of thought, the Skekses and Mystics represent the essential compromise between partners; to wit, the individual’s desire to be an individual and his/her simultaneous need for emotional intimacy. Thus, every intimate relationship is a balancing act between perfect, idealized love, and Spartan, rigorous, self-imposed isolation. But inasmuch as darkness cannot exist without light, neither can a relationship based on aspiring to an elusive, false, idealistic “perfection” long endure either.

At any rate, it is marvelous to behold how deeply programmed into the story’s DNA the designing principle is here. The concept of two becoming one pervades just about every important plot point. A crystal, broken into two pieces, must be healed for two sundered races, the Skekses and Mystics, to be made whole again as UrSkeks. Three suns must shine as one. Concerning Kira, the last female Gelfling, the UrSkek tells Jen, “she is part of you, as we all are part of each other.” Only through their combined efforts could Jen and Kira fulfill the prophecy, and only together can they repopulate the redeemed world of Thra. Even the Garthim, as demonstrated in the 2019 Netflix series, are a hybrid of Arathim (spiders) and Gruenaks (goblin-like humanoids). Clearly, Henson, the writer of this script, began at a fixed starting point and expanded outwards from there, as all the best storytellers do. Everything here—characters, story world, backstory (or “ghost”), and dramatic action—flow from and stand in service to a single, simple, and yet profound designing principle. This is story structure at its finest.

For all you aspiring fantasy/sci-fi authors, I highly suggest watching The Dark Crystal. As I’ve tried to explain, it is near-perfectly streamlined storytelling, build around a single concept. Moreover, it shows just how and where backstory is relevant, and how not to permit backstory to overtake story. If you’ve written reams of backstory—fine! Tell your story, or stories, built upon it, then compile everything else into a separate work, like Tolkien did with The Silmarillion. Those stories, histories, myths, original languages, etc. are, like Jen and Kira, a part of you, and they deserve a place in your fiction. Just make sure it’s the proper place.

If you are interested in an in-depth assessment of a project you are working on, or to retain my services as a developmental editor, please feel free to comment below or e-mail me at toddgmonahan@live.com. 

And finally, as I cannot wish you happy writing, since writing so often is decidedly not happy, I wish for you that that tiny light at the end of the tunnel gets a little bit brighter every day.

T. G. Monahan

[1] Sadly, this is the same reason the 2019 Netflix series The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance was a bit of a disappointment to me.

[2] Additionally, remake-type works (that includes sequels, prequels, reboots, dark reboots, “side”-quels, etc.) operate on nostalgia rather than on good storytelling. Excellent article about that here: https://www.salon.com/2013/11/17/why_remakes_suck_partner/.

[3] I won’t even bother to label Chamberlain a Fake-ally opponent, as his malice is so obvious, he never fools the Gelflings into thinking he’s on their side.

[4] Also, if you listen carefully to her later exchange with the Skekses, and if you read some of the books that purport to expound on the backstory of Thra, Aughrah’s relationship with the Skekses is, to say the least, complex. There was, supposedly, a time when she was friends (or at least on friendly terms) with them. The 2019 Netflix series The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance gets into this more.

[5] When single shines the triple sun

What was sundered and undone

Shall be whole, the two made one

By Gelfling hand, or else by none

[6] Netflix’s The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance spells this out in greater detail.