I take it you don't mean just blocking or a visual summary of a character's identifying features: you want something about the character's behavior as described to tell you something about how they work internally as well as what they look like doing it?
Yes, exactly -- that plus the ability to find the odd-but-telling angle. So, I can say that a character sat down, but some writers (you included) can find a phrase that will not only convey the movement but something more; or you'll skip the sitting-down part entirely and instead say something about a hand gesture or a shift of the shoulders that's way more interesting to begin with. I especially want to be better about describing body language, because it rivets me onscreen when I see an actor who uses it well, but so far I don't have the knack for conveying it efficiently . . . and if you use too many words, the effect is lost.
It's been a while since I've read any Beagle, but "resolute bewilderment" is in line with what I'm thinking of, so I'll go take a look. Improbable-sounding similes are indeed one of the tricks; I'm not sure anybody can explain how to make them work.
At the risk of dropping out of this conversation like a cartoon character who's just looked down at the plain air under their feet, may I ask for an example? I'm not sure I can actually separate what you're asking for from the gestalt way I think about characters.
That's a fair response, given that I have a hard time picking out individual lines rather than gesturing at an entire review and going "what you did there." :-) I'll post samples from your more recent reviews in another comment (because length limits), but your description of Loki in Thor is one I liked enough to save:
I love how he has a habit of appearing in mirrors, how you can almost never tell what is calculation and what he really feels; how, black-haired, blue-eyed, feverishly pale, he's a callback to the icy dark of Jötunheim, but the dusk-blue that burns up through his skin at its touch, hel-blár, is the one mask he never knew he was wearing. He has a thin-skinned, transparent look about him, a raw edge under glass. It makes him an effective deceiver: he looks as though you should be able to read him with one level stare, which will only show you what you want to see. And it makes him vulnerable: the incredible, child's desolation in his face as he lets go of everything that has been his life and falls into Ginnungagap like a collapsing star. Like a good trickster, he is never a single, quantifiable thing.
no subject
Yes, exactly -- that plus the ability to find the odd-but-telling angle. So, I can say that a character sat down, but some writers (you included) can find a phrase that will not only convey the movement but something more; or you'll skip the sitting-down part entirely and instead say something about a hand gesture or a shift of the shoulders that's way more interesting to begin with. I especially want to be better about describing body language, because it rivets me onscreen when I see an actor who uses it well, but so far I don't have the knack for conveying it efficiently . . . and if you use too many words, the effect is lost.
It's been a while since I've read any Beagle, but "resolute bewilderment" is in line with what I'm thinking of, so I'll go take a look. Improbable-sounding similes are indeed one of the tricks; I'm not sure anybody can explain how to make them work.
At the risk of dropping out of this conversation like a cartoon character who's just looked down at the plain air under their feet, may I ask for an example? I'm not sure I can actually separate what you're asking for from the gestalt way I think about characters.
That's a fair response, given that I have a hard time picking out individual lines rather than gesturing at an entire review and going "what you did there." :-) I'll post samples from your more recent reviews in another comment (because length limits), but your description of Loki in Thor is one I liked enough to save:
I love how he has a habit of appearing in mirrors, how you can almost never tell what is calculation and what he really feels; how, black-haired, blue-eyed, feverishly pale, he's a callback to the icy dark of Jötunheim, but the dusk-blue that burns up through his skin at its touch, hel-blár, is the one mask he never knew he was wearing. He has a thin-skinned, transparent look about him, a raw edge under glass. It makes him an effective deceiver: he looks as though you should be able to read him with one level stare, which will only show you what you want to see. And it makes him vulnerable: the incredible, child's desolation in his face as he lets go of everything that has been his life and falls into Ginnungagap like a collapsing star. Like a good trickster, he is never a single, quantifiable thing.