Choice or Fate? Exploring Free Will and Determinism in Screenwriting

When screenwriters sit down to craft a story, one of the most critical questions they face is deceptively simple: why do characters act the way they do? Behind that question lies a much larger philosophical issue, one that has occupied thinkers for centuries: do human beings have free will, or are they shaped and constrained by forces outside their control? The screenplay is the perfect arena in which to explore this age-old debate.

This debate matters for screenwriters because audiences instinctively demand that characters feel both believable and active. A protagonist who is swept along by circumstance risks becoming passive and disengaging, while one who makes arbitrary choices without pressure from context can feel implausible. A screenwriter must negotiate this tension—creating the sense that characters exercise agency, even while their circumstances and histories exert powerful influences.

Many writers, deeply immersed in their stories, lose sight of whether their characters’ actions feel inevitable or arbitrary. Script feedback from a screenwriting consultant can help them strike the right balance, ensuring that characters come across as fully realized individuals rather than as pawns of plot mechanics or mouthpieces for philosophical abstractions.

Some of the most powerful films lean heavily into determinism, exploring the ways in which forces like fate, history, or social conditioning dictate the lives of characters. In No Country for Old Men (2007), Anton Chigurh is like a force of destiny, moving inexorably across West Texas like an executioner. The characters who cross his path rarely seem to have meaningful choices—they are caught in a machinery that is already in motion. The film’s chilling power derives from this deterministic vision: the sense that human freedom is illusory when confronted with violence, entropy, and time.

Another example comes from Slumdog Millionaire (2008). Though framed as a love story and a tale of perseverance, the protagonist’s journey feels dictated by fate. Each question on the game show “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” aligns perfectly with a traumatic or formative memory from his life. The narrative insists that his path has been laid out for him, that survival was an education designed to deliver him to this one improbable moment.

For writers attempting to evoke this kind of deterministic worldview, a script consultant can provide guidance in clarifying the rules of fate that structure the story. If every event is preordained, the screenplay must establish the logic behind that determinism, whether rooted in myth, psychology, or chance. Consultants can help identify whether the script’s depiction of inevitability feels thematically coherent or whether it reads as a contrived coincidence.

On the other side of the spectrum, many screenplays highlight characters wrestling with the burden of choice. These stories tap into the drama of decision-making, asking what it means to exercise freedom responsibly. A classic example is Sophie’s Choice (1982), in which Meryl Streep’s character is forced into a horrific decision during the Holocaust. The film’s emotional power comes from the weight of freedom—however coerced and tragic—that leaves the character permanently scarred.

In a more contemporary vein, Manchester by the Sea (2016) dramatizes a man confronting the possibility of taking on responsibility for his nephew after a family tragedy. The protagonist, Lee Chandler, is trapped by the consequences of his past. His freedom is real, but so are the psychological limits that make certain choices nearly impossible. The film illustrates that free will in screenwriting is rarely absolute; it operates within a complex web of memory, trauma, and moral obligation.

When writers tackle stories rooted in free will, a screenwriting consultant can help by focusing on plausibility. Are the character’s choices consistent with what we know of their psychology and circumstances? Are the stakes of those choices dramatized clearly enough for the audience to grasp their significance? Consultants often encourage writers to heighten moments of decision, making the hinge-points of free will unmistakable to viewers while still feeling earned and organic.

Most screenplays, of course, fall somewhere in between. Great films often draw energy from the tension between determinism and free will, showing characters caught in circumstances beyond their control yet still striving to make meaningful choices. The Truman Show (1998) exemplifies this hybrid. Truman Burbank’s life is dictated by a massive artificial system designed to deceive him. His every move has been anticipated, scripted, and shaped. Yet the heart of the film lies in his growing suspicion and his eventual decision to leave the set. Truman’s triumph is in the assertion of freedom within a deterministic world.

Christopher Nolan’s Inception (2010) similarly explores this territory. The characters operate within dream-worlds structured by others, layers of reality that condition their perception and limit their options. Yet the protagonist, Cobb, must make a personal choice about letting go of his wife’s memory and returning to his children. The grandeur of the deterministic dreamscape makes the assertion of free will all the more poignant.

For screenwriters, blending these perspectives requires careful calibration. Too much determinism risks reducing characters to puppets; too much free will can strip away believability. Consultants play a crucial role in diagnosing when a script has tipped too far in either direction. They can pinpoint moments where characters appear unmotivated or where plot contrivances override organic decision-making, guiding the writer toward a more satisfying balance.

Questions of free will and determinism in screenwriting inevitably raise personal philosophical questions for the writer. Do you believe people are fundamentally free, or do you see lives as shaped by forces of culture, biology, or history? Your answer will influence not only the kinds of stories you tell but also the tone, structure, and themes of your work.

Here again, a script consultant’s feedback can be transformative. Writers often unconsciously impose their own worldview on their characters, leading to thematic blind spots. A consultant can help reveal whether a script’s treatment of choice and inevitability aligns with the story’s intended message. For instance, if a writer intends to tell an empowering tale of agency but repeatedly undermines characters’ freedom with coincidences or external interventions, a consultant will notice the contradiction and suggest adjustments.

The interplay of free will and determinism is central to how audiences connect with stories. Viewers seek to identify with characters who make choices, but they also recognize the reality of constraints. The balance between these forces determines whether a screenplay feels authentic.

How do you dramatize freedom without descending into implausibility? How do you portray determinism without stripping away humanity? The answer often lies in subtle adjustments: sharpening a choice here, clarifying a motivating force there, ensuring that fate and freedom entwine in a way that feels true.

This is where the value of script feedback from a professional consultant becomes most apparent. Outside perspective can reveal whether your screenplay honors the complexity of human agency or whether it falters into predictability. Consultants are trained to help writers balance philosophy with drama, turning abstract debates into emotionally gripping stories The question of free will challenges screenwriters to think deeply about what it means to act, to choose, to resist, and to surrender.