Beyond the Flaw: Building Characters with Mental Bandwidth Limits
- Lorraine Flett
- Aug 22
- 3 min read
Every screenwriting guide will tell you the same thing: give your character an internal flaw and an external obstacle. Maybe she’s insecure. Maybe he’s stubborn. Maybe she trips over her own ambition. And yes, that can work. But let’s be honest, flaws alone can feel like Screenwriting 101.
Here’s where it gets more interesting. What if your character’s weakness isn’t just emotional or physical? What if they’re maxed out on mental bandwidth? Not merely afraid or clumsy, but overloaded.
The Overload Principle
Instead of giving your character one neat little problem to overcome, stack the deck. Heap contradictions, insecurities, and impossible choices on top of each other until the audience can practically feel the sweat. You don’t just want your character to have a flaw. You want them cracking under the weight of it. That’s when they stop being a type and start being a person.
And this isn’t just a writer’s trick — it’s brain science. "Cognitive Load Theory" tells us our working memory can only hold so much. Too many demands and the system crashes. In real life, that can look like forgetting your best friend’s birthday or yelling at a driver in traffic. On screen, it looks like a hero making a disastrous choice at exactly the wrong time.
Real Characters, Real Overload
Here are examples to get you thinking about this idea in action:
Romcom: Bridesmaids
Annie isn’t just having a bad year — she’s broke, heartbroken, and losing her best friend. She can’t even bake a cupcake without falling apart. The bridal salon meltdown is hilarious because it’s overload in action. Comedy gold comes from watching someone unravel in real time.
Psychological Thriller: Silence of the Lambs
Clarice Starling isn’t only chasing Buffalo Bill. She’s a trainee in a man’s world, shadowed by childhood trauma, desperate to prove herself, and forced to rely on a monster for help. Every interaction with Hannibal Lecter is another layer of pressure. You don’t see her explode, but you feel the strain in every glance and hesitation.
TV Sitcom: Younger
Liza’s premise is pure overload: a 40-year-old pretending to be 26. She’s juggling a career, romance with a younger man, flirtation with her boss, and the constant risk of exposure. The comedy lives in her all her near-misses: the lies, the close calls, the consequences of being found out! We love watching her scramble to keep plates spinning while waiting for them to crash. In fact, we love her.
Try This in Your Own Writing
Here’s a simple exercise we use in our San Miguel screenwriting intensives: write a scene where your character is balancing three problems at once: one emotional, one practical, and one ridiculous. See how their choices shift as the load spikes. Then remove one layer of pressure and notice how their behavior changes again. That rhythm is human.
Why It Works
Characters don’t become iconic because they have one tidy flaw or one shiny goal. They stick with us because they’re overloaded, frazzled, and barely holding it together. Just like us.
Authentic conflict: They’re not only battling villains or inner demons. They’re battling their own mental bandwidth.
Realistic arcs: Watching someone crack under pressure, or suddenly rally when the load eases, feels true.
Built-in empathy: We’ve all been there. Seeing a character flail in the same way you did last Tuesday makes them unforgettable.
Internal flaw? Keep it. External flaw? Use it. But when you add the reality of cognitive limits, you’re writing people not just characters. And, characters are what sell scripts!







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