Get Real: Flash Fiction Inspired by the Dogme 95 Manifesto

In the Reading the World module we have been looking at a variety of media from around the world; this includes books, films, music videos, gallery exhibits... anything you can think of, really. Some of my favourite films and stories originate from different countries around the world, and I always want to experience new cultures, so this module is ideal for me.

I had never heard of the Dogme 95 movement or watched a Danish film before, so learning about Lars von Trier and Thomas Vinterberg's filmmaking manifesto was exciting. Their approach to film is raw and realistic, not sparing us any discomfort - and that isn't necessarily a bad thing!
I will be reviewing Festen (or "The Celebration" in English) in another post. Since it was my first taste of such a gritty, realistic film made entirely on a handheld camera, it gave me lots of new ideas on how to approach my own scripts and filmmaking.

The Dogme 95 manifesto could also be interpreted through fiction. As a group of storytellers, we came up with a set of rules called the 'DogReal Fiction Manifesto', inspired by the techniques of the Dogme 95 movement. The challenge is to create a piece of flash fiction that adheres to these rules!

DogReal Fiction Manifesto:
1. No happy endings
2. No magic unless it is the magic of dreams and nightmares
3. Only realistic locations/settings
4. Authentic speech including digressions, pauses, repetitions, verbal ticks etc
5. First person narratives only
6. No stereotypes
7. Linear timeline except when the protagonist experiences time differently
8. No Deus ex machina
9. No similes, metaphors, personification or other literary flourishes
10. Plots must be true to the character’s motivations and psychology
11. Author must not be credited.

My interpretation of this manifesto is that it must be true to real life. In that case, my flash (non)fiction will be written like a diary entry, no flourishes or embellishments allowed. Here is how I experimented with these rules:

I entered my house through the porch door.

“Bye, Nana. Thanks for going with me to the gallery. Bye! Bye!” I said.

“Hello, doggies,” I said. “I hope you’ve been good,” I said.

“See you later, pet,” my grandmother said. She closed the door behind her.

“Have you been good?” I said to the animals in the kitchen.

I placed my handbag and scarf on the dining room table. I walked to the kettle and flicked the switch.

“Tea,” I said.

I poured the water and let the teabag steep. Scrrpt. A noise in the hallway caught my attention.

I went from the kitchen to the porch door. Something colourful was in the letter slot. I knew the morning’s mail had already arrived. I picked up the paper and read it.

“Heh,” I said.

It was a flyer. What was written on the paper surprised me:

Conspiracy theory talk advertisements signed by a person called ‘Amazing Steve’.

“What even is this?” I said. “What kind of spam-?”

I folded the paper and put it in my handbag. An idea came to me, that I was being watched through the porch window as I read the flyer. That I had angered a certain amazing person by saying “heh”.

I closed the door.

“Indy,” I said. “Come here.”

I poured lactose-free milk from the fridge into my mug and added half a teaspoon of sugar. I sat at the kitchen table and read a book. 

As you can see, this sounds stilted, repetitive, and strange. The style of writing (and sordid gossip) in my own diary is more interesting than this, I believe. Writing in this way is very dry, but let’s see if I managed to stick to the rules.

1) No happy endings. There is no ending, happy or otherwise.

2) No magic unless it is the magic of dreams and nightmares. No magic either. There’s nothing supernatural about that boring segment of writing, unless ‘Amazing Steve’ has some magic powers that I’m not yet aware of.

3) Only realistic locations/settings. Real life is mundane most of the time, and so is my kitchen and porch.

4) Authentic speech including digressions, pauses, repetitions, verbal ticks etc. Yes. Here you can see the embarrassing way I talk to my loved ones and pets, and how I babble to myself as I go about my day. These kinds of things wouldn’t ever make their way into my future memoirs, if I can help it.

5) First person narratives only. Yes.

6) No stereotypes. Am I stereotyping myself? Who knows!

7) Linear timeline except when the protagonist experiences time differently. To the point of knowing how I make my cup of tea. It’s so linear that it’s boring.

8) No Deus ex machina. Since there’s nothing here that needs a solution, there’s no Deus ex machina.

9) No similes, metaphors, personification or other literary flourishes. I tried to make it as plain as possible.

10) Plots must be true to the character’s motivations and psychology. A boring, everyday moment inspiring a paranoid thought through overactive imagination? That’s true enough to me, and probably most writers, I imagine.

11) Author must not be credited. Well, I won’t write my name at the bottom of this post then.

I think all of the rules have been stuck to in some way, though I don't think I'll ever be writing in the style of the manifesto again! Realism in film and fiction can be interesting, but not to this extent.