In the early days of silent movies, story lines were pretty simple. They always offered adventure and romance, always employed stock characters (good guys, bad guys, and damsels in distress), and were often told as familiar Westerns. Stories set in the wild west were popular with the public, set construction was easy and inexpensive, and costume designers could provide ready sartorial clues for character recognition (white hats, black hats, flounce or frilly dresses). Most of all, familiar, recognizable stories were simple to script in one-line subtitles called inter-titles.
Train robberies and lost treasures were common narratives; one of the classics, The Great Train Robbery (1903), is still studied and shown as a major example of the genre. One big innovation of the early years was a film technique called “crosscuts,” which presented two different events happening simultaneously. The silent movie era was also just the beginning of the studio system that endured for decades and the creation of major Hollywood movie stars such as Tom Mix, William S. Hart, and Lillian Gish. I remember my grandmother talking about Tom Mix as one of her favorites when I was a little girl, though of course I had never seen these silent screen actors, at least not until much later when I was studying the history of film. (I will, however, date myself by saying that my own favorite movie star when I was little was also an actor featured in Westerns, Randolph Scott.)
“Meanwhile, back at the ranch…” had its origin in the inter-titles of these early silent movie Westerns; later, the phrase morphed in to “meanwhile back at the farm” or “meanwhile back at home.” Even in Country & Western music today we can hear popular tunes such as “Meanwhile Back at Mama’s” by Tim McGraw and Faith Hill. The legacy continues, though now most commonly in the simple use of the word “meanwhile.” Perhaps that’s because every story, even in the reality of everyday life, has a “meanwhile.” There is always something else going on in the background while the obvious action is going on.
In classic literature, Horace, a Roman poet, advised epic poets to get straight to the heart of the story by jumping right into the action. This narrative technique is called “in medias res,” meaning in the middle. A favored technique of the Greek dramatists, it is still commonly used today. In film noir, for example, a PI enters a plot already in progress; in the much-beloved film Forrest Gump, the story begins in the middle, but then is told through a series of flashbacks.
Along the same line as “meanwhile” is the concept of backstory, which generally applies to the characters more than the plot. Backstory is what comes before the main story, the forerunner of current events, but more in terms of the how and why of character development. Backstory helps us understand the underlying motivations of the characters’ actions and, thus, allows us to better appreciate the unfolding of story events. There is always a backstory, for everything and everyone. The key to gaining an understanding of other people and the events in which they are actors, whether on stage or in real life, is having access to a full and accurate backstory that precedes their actions. (This explains why most people distrust politicians, because you rarely know enough to distinguish between the truth and the lie.)
So, where am I going with this? You probably aren’t going to be happy with the answer, but here it goes. What I’m saying is that you can never really, truly, thoroughly know someone. You meet a person on a plane or at a party and you start talking and you seem to be instantly “simpatico.” Basically, you are only seeing how they present themselves and hearing whatever they tell you, which usually isn’t much. Nevertheless, you go forward in a relationship based on gut reactions, emotional impulses, or perceived commonalities (same interests, hobbies, hometown, needs, etc.). Friendships, partnerships, and business collaborations are made of such encounters, even marriage proposals! But what about those “meanwhiles”?
Not to sound cynical (though I usually am), but people lie, even to themselves. They deny their own backstories or try to recreate them. Digging into the past and trying to unearth the truth about one’s self is the great business of therapy, but not everyone really wants to know the truth. And unless you have personally known someone for most of his/her life and been a witness to some of the events that shaped them early on, it is virtually impossible to fully understand and authenticate another adult’s backstory, the “meanwhiles” of what’s really going on with them at any present time. Considering that new encounters made in adulthood are basically occurring “in medias res,” it’s amazing that as many relationships, be they marriage or friendship, last as long as they do.
The longer I live, the more I am dismayed and surprised, for better or worse, by how many people either don’t know the truth of who they are or just aren’t self-reflective enough to find out. These are the people who confuse their family roles or their professional positions with their true identity; these are the people who have a really hard time in later life when those roles and positions no longer exist to support them. We all have our failures and foibles, of course, and understanding and accepting ourselves and others is a life-long task. In the end, however, we love someone else not because we think they are perfect, but because we can see the good in them and accept their shortcomings.
Call it what you will — past or present, context or backstory — we all have our own stories with all the “meanwhiles” of our lives.