But if you're going to take artistic licenses, why bother making a movie about a real person? Why not just make a drama on something based on the person that inspired your story?
Because stories are about symbols and recognizable ideas. You
want to build a story using a conceptual vocabulary that will be familiar to the audience, in order to prompt particular ideas in their minds. But the goal is to take those familiar ideas and elements and combine them in new ways.
I just finished watching an episode of
The Musketeers on BBC America. That show's version of the Musketeers is different from earlier screen adaptations, which were different in turn from Alexandre Dumas's novel, which was based on real historical figures but took liberties with them. This is how fiction has worked throughout human history. You take recognizable concepts and characters and do new things with them. It takes
both the familiar and the novel; they're complementary, not competing. Reusing the Three Musketeers and D'Artagnan resonates with the audience in ways that new, unfamiliar characters would not, but of course you don't want to retell the same stories that have been told before.
I mean, heck, if you want to say it's wrong to use real people's names as the basis for fiction, you might as well take it all the way and say it's wrong to tell stories set on Earth or featuring human beings or having people breathe oxygen. Sure, there are some stories that don't feature those things, but quite a lot that do. It's absurd to say that every storyteller ever throughout eternity should be required to choose one and not the other. Then there'd be far fewer stories in the world.
Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story had a subplot involving a fighter that broke Lee's back and fought him in a tournament with a timer. TOTAL and COMPLETE fiction. Never happened.
Yeah, so a work of fiction is total fiction.
Good. That's exactly what it set out to be. Why would you expect it to be anything else?
Dragon also showed Linda Lee bringing Bruce Lee a copy of his book. The problem is: the book was published after Lee died. Oops. Credibility out the window.
"Credibility" is an inappropriate standard to apply to something that is not claiming to be reality. You're not actually supposed to believe it, just to suspend disbelief for the duration of the story.
If you're going to fabricate, you shouldn't bother telling the story.
But that's what telling a story
is. It wouldn't be fiction if everything in it were factual.
Why am I going to bother to watch Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story if I'm not really learning Bruce Lee's story?
Why do you watch
Star Trek if you're not really learning about outer space? It's not about presenting reality, it's about telling an entertaining story that uses elements from reality as the building blocks of a work of imagination.
That's the key: imagination. Imagination does not occupy a vacuum. It works by taking the things we know and putting them together in new ways. It works by taking what was and asking, "What if it had been this way instead?" That's basic to how the human brain works: imagination is how we model different permutations of reality as an aid to understanding and decisions. It lets us envision and weigh different choices for the future, which is a valuable survival skill. And when we apply that same cognitive skill to the past, it lets us envision alternate pasts, versions of real life that weren't but could have been. We can't
not think of the world that way.
For that matter, memory itself is a process of fictionalization. We don't actually remember every last detail of our past. We remember portions of it and our brains construct a plausible narrative to link those bits of information together. Those narratives are usually more coherent than the real events, and with each new recollection, our memory of an event gets rewritten more and more. The reason we tell fictionalized accounts based on real life is that it's just how our brains are wired. And doing it overtly, as fiction, keeps us honest, because it helps remind us that there's a difference between an emotinally satisfying narrative and an objective fact.
If a person's life is interesting enough to inspire a movie, then the facts should be facts and the filmmaker shouldn't cheat or distort the truth to make something sexier or entertaining.
It's not cheating, because, for the umpteenth time, a creator of fiction
is not claiming that it's true. It's not saying "This is how it was," it's inviting you to imagine that it could've been another way.