Not much has changed. I love the horrific, the gruesome, the eerily aberrant, the supernatural. I try to tap into that childhood fascination when I’m writing a horror scene, but coming up with something truly terrifying isn’t always easy. I’ve found that going back to the nature of horror, what really scares us, can help me connect to the place where paralyzing fear is born.
I believe there are eleven things people across the board are scared of. I call them the Eleven Tenets of Fear. They are:
1. Pain. Enduring emotional or physical pain elicits fear. This is the premise behind torture. Militaries have been known to play audiotapes of someone screaming in pain before interrogating POWs. The POWs believe the screams are coming from real prisoners and begin to imagine the pain the person must be experiencing. The fear created in their own minds leads to compliance. The film SAW used pain as its primary tenet, asking the audience, “Could you saw off your own foot to save your life?”
2. Death/mortality. Most people are afraid of death and many are fascinated with it. Every religion includes beliefs about what happens after one dies. The notion of eternal life or reincarnation is often a comforting thought for people who face imminent death or have lost a loved one. The FINAL DESTINATION franchise is built around the inability to escape death.
3. Disfigurement. Ugliness and disfigurement are associated with evil and social exclusion. Witches, monsters, and demons are often portrayed as ugly creatures. Sometimes they are naturally disfigured (think Freddy Krueger) and sometimes they hide behind ugly masks (like Michael Meyers in HALLOWEEN).
4. Retribution for perceived or real wrongs. People are inherently retributive (an eye for an eye), and acts of retribution are often seen as justified (consider the father who walks in on a man molesting his child and beats him to death). The notion that our transgressions could unleash retributive acts of horrific proportions is scary.
5. Evil forces. Forces beyond our control are often the basis for horror films. ROSEMARY’S BABY, POLTERGEIST, and THE AMITYVILLE HORROR all use the insuperability of evil forces to scare audiences.
6. Loss of a loved one. Fictional characters are often motivated to act because a loved one has been killed or kidnapped. Human beings form strong ties to others, and the stronger the connection, the greater the fear of losing it.
7. Abandonment/being alone. Finding yourself having to face something awful alone is even more horrifying than facing it with someone else (remember when the divers resurface to find the boat has left them in OPEN WATER?). Humans inherently seek out others to connect with; we don’t like to be alone. That’s also why in books and films, evildoers often live off by themselves. We perceive the desire to be alone as deviant and creepy.
8. The unknown. We often feel that what we can’t see or don’t understand poses danger. This is why masks and costumes are scary (they obscure the person wearing them) and darkness is disturbing (something terrible could be close to us and we wouldn’t know).
9. Hell. Hell represents all things painful. It’s the home of Satan, which is supremely powerful and evil. It has no temporality or spatiality. For Christians, it is an eternal place of punishment. The belief in the existence of hell, and the fear of it, has been an enforcer of moral conduct for thousands of years.
10. Our limitations as human beings. We are fascinated by our own limitations, and horror films and books play on this. Nearly all horror figures have the ability to exceed human limitations. Vampires are immortal; ghosts are invisible; witches can cast spells; werewolves have super-human strength, etc.
11. The depth of our own depravity. “If it bleeds, it leads” is true for a reason. We are fascinated by humans who are not bound to the same moral codes we abide by. Serial killers, who torture, murder, cannibalize, and do things the rest of us would never consider, show us that those abilities are, disturbingly, buried somewhere in human nature—a potential we all share.
These tenets appear in almost every successful horror film and horror story. Let’s look at three popular examples that were listed in Time magazine’s “Top 25 Horror Movies” and assess which tenets were included.
THE EXORCIST. Little Regan is inhabited by a demon, and an exorcism is her mother’s only hope for getting her daughter back. Fear tenets: disfigurement (Regan gets boils on her face, and her body contorts); loss of a loved one (mother losing daughter to the demon); evil forces (demonic possession); limitations as humans (can a mortal Catholic priest beat the all-powerful demon?); death (the demon can and does kill); and the unknown (why did it choose an innocent little girl?).
CARRIE. After being picked on for years, a teen girl discovers she has telekinetic powers that she can use to destroy her prom. Fear tenets: death (Carrie kills her tormentors); retribution (Carrie’s act is one of retribution against those who mistreated her); evil forces (Carrie has supernatural powers); the unknown (no one was aware of Carrie’s powers until it was too late); our limitations (there is no defense against Carrie); and the depth of human depravity (what is Carrie willing to do to her tormentors and what were they willing to do to humiliate her?).
JAWS. A seaside community is plagued by a huge, predatory shark. Fear tenets: pain (shark bites hurt); death/mortality (the shark can and does kill); disfigurement (loss of limbs due to shark bites); evil forces (according to Quint, sharks have “lifeless, black eyes” suggesting a lack of a soul); loss of a loved one (people and pets are being eaten by the shark); abandonment/being alone (what if I’m the only one left alive?); the unknown (ocean swimmers can’t see what’s below the surface of the water); and our limitations (how can we out-swim the world’s largest shark?).
When assessing ideas for a horror film, I often go back and create a checklist of these eleven tenets and explain how my story/screenplay has (or will) address them.
EXERCISE
Think about your favorite horror film/story (or an original idea you’d like to write). How many of the eleven tenets can you identify? For those that are missing, write down a few ideas on how they could be incorporated. The more you have, chances are, the scarier your story will be.
DERRICK D. PETE
Anatomy of Choice
DERRICK D. PETE is a screenwriter whose latest fantasy adventure is being developed by Pierce Brosnan’s production company. He has an MFA in screenwriting from UCLA. His undergraduate degree is in chemical engineering, and he has two international patents related to the purification of methyl tertiary butyl ether over a zeolite-Y catalyst.
As a writer of fantasy and sci-fi films, I find that getting lost in the worlds we create can be very easy to do. After all, effectively communicating the science in our story must be as important as spinning a complicated web of fiction. Otherwise, it would just be fiction, not science fiction. As a proud, card-carrying member of the sci-fi/fantasy screenwriting club, I understand the lure of the unknown world or the magical wonderland. Therefore, I make the bold assumption that creating new worlds is what you do best—that’s what led you to this genre. So, I want to focus our attention on a topic that gets far less attention, but is equally as important.
Memorable characters are the foundation of any screenplay, for any genre, from fantasy to film noir. I knew I wanted to share an exercise related to character development, but what angle or unique perspective can I offer? I thought through various alternatives. What about: “Memorable characters transcend time; memorable personas define the time?” While the statement is true, I was hard pressed to make this truth practical to screenwriters developing memorable characters for their individual projects. Another statement came to mind: “Men identify with heroes; women identify with teams.” Again, this statement would make for an interesting intellectual discourse, but the needle on the practicality meter barely moved (this principle deals more with the audience as character rather than characters within our own films). So, after much soul searching, I made a choice and a cosmic principle was born. I’ll name
it Universal Cosmic Principle 1108a: Memorable characters make memorable choices. In order to create multi-dimensional characters who will live in the memory of the audience, you must master the anatomy of choice: crisis, cause, crucible, and (con)sequence. It is important to note that every choice made by a character will have these four elements. Effective manipulation of these elements will increase dimensionality and CVM (clear, vivid, memorable) characters.
Crisis. It is critically important that we place our characters in situations that demand an urgent choice. For most films, binary choices work the best (do or don’t, yes or no, live or die, etc.). The crisis must be of such a magnitude that it insists on a decision . . . NOW. Additional opportunities for crisis generate additional opportunities for urgent choices. Does Ed Exley snitch or not (L.A. CONFIDENTIAL)? Does Celie leave Mister’s house or not (THE COLOR PURPLE)? Does the Fourth Wife fake pregnancy or not (RAISE THE RED LANTERN)? Does Vincent Vega sleep with Mia or not (PULP FICTION)? Characters make choices all the time; however, it’s the choices they make in the midst of crisis that maximizes our understanding of them. If a character chooses to brush his teeth in the morning, that doesn’t mean much; however, if a character chooses to brush his teeth even though the building is on fire, that choice reveals something unique about that character.
Cause. Every choice a character makes is motivated by a set of conditions provided within the terrain of the story. We must understand the reasons behind a character’s choice. We do not, however, have to agree with the choice a character makes. I’ve identified six causes that appear to be sufficient filmic reasons for a character’s choice during crisis:
1. obsession for a given quest/passion/goal
2. moral/ethical essence
3. primal emotions (i.e., fear, love, envy, anger)
4. duty
5. psychological scar (i.e., abandonment, abuse) and
6. revenge (specifically for the murder or mistreatment of a child, spouse, lover, parent, or sibling)
These causes each carry a different weight or value with the audience, and it’s important to be aware of that. The causes for the choices a character makes in a film must be provided within the terrain of the story. When David Helfgott chooses to attend the prestigious musical conservatory against his father’s wishes, we understand that choice because we understand the passion he has for music (SHINE). When Nicole chooses to lie about the bus accident, we understand that choice because we see the psychological damage caused by incest within her family (SWEET HEREAFTER). When Jack dies for Rose, we understand that choice because we have seen the love between the two of them (TITANIC).
Crucible. The combination of crisis and cause can produce an inescapable crucible for our characters. If the choice our character makes is to achieve maximum effectiveness, the boundaries that constrain the choice must be clearly defined. What are the parameters or the circumstances that encapsulate the choice? As we constrict the boundaries, close the walls in on our characters, and limit the possibilities for escape, we heighten the tension and reveal character on multiple levels. For example, being chased by the cops for murder is surely a crisis for a character. Combining that with a cause such as an obsessive pseudo-neurotic passion may not carry much weight with the audience. However, if the cause of the murder was revenge for the death of a child, then the crucible begins to form in the mind of the audience. For example, the choice to drive off a cliff rather than face the police (THELMA & LOUISE); George’s choice to stay in Bedford Falls (IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE); David’s choice to kill John Doe (SEVEN).
(Con)sequence. Every choice a character makes has consequences. A sequence of events without a spark (crisis, cause, crucible) becomes confusing and hard to follow. However, if events in a film are in direct relation to the consequence of the choices made by our characters, then our film has a natural undercurrent that demands resolution. If you think of plot as a sequence of events, then it becomes obvious that a character’s choice produces a series of consequences, which then lead to another sequence of events. What if McMurphy chose to leave the psychiatric hospital while he had the chance (ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST)? What if Gaz chose not to bare it all on stage (THE FULL MONTY)? What if the underdog fighter chose not to go the distance against Apollo Creed (ROCKY)? Those would be entirely different films with characters we would have long forgotten. It’s clear, in great movies, memorable characters make memorable choices.
EXERCISE
If you are rewriting a previous screenplay or in the process of developing a new one, make sure you can answer each of the following questions:
1. What are the choices being made by the lead characters? Are those choices “filmic”? Can any or all of those choices be heightened by examining the “anatomy of choice”—crisis, cause, crucible, and (con)sequence?
2. The choice a character ultimately makes is often rooted in the flaws of that character. What is your character’s most human quality (i.e., flaw)? For example, is your character absentminded, abusive, alcoholic, aimless, anxious, arrogant (and that’s just the As)? Identify the flaw(s) in your character. It will directly impact the choices he or she makes.
3. Are the choices being made by your character resulting in the appropriate “filmic” (con)sequences? Diagram the series of events based on your character’s choices. Do the events follow a logical flow with ever-increasing stakes?
4. What is the first choice your character makes? Does it reveal character? Your first character introduction not only sells the character; it sells the movie (or it doesn’t). Make your character choices memorable. Make every choice count.
TODD KLICK
How Spielberg and Shakespeare Grab ‘Em in Five
TODD KLICK is the best-selling author of Something Startling Happens: The 120 Story Beats Every Writer Needs to Know (Michael Wiese Productions) and The Screenwriter’s Fairy Tale: The Universal Story Within All Movie Stories. He has won the Nicholls Fellowship, optioned three scripts and sold five, and he has deals to develop stories for the London and Broadway stages.
So I’m at this industry mixer in Century City five years ago, and I chat with a movie studio script reader. I ask her to sum up her workday. “Well,” she said to me, “I read the opening pages of screenplays, and if they don’t grab me in five pages, I toss ’em into the garbage and move onto the next.”
Her blunt confession horrified me. For a writer who works hard on scripts for months, sometimes years, the thought of having my words tossed so flippantly into the trash seemed outrageously unjust. Swallowing this bitter pill, I started a deep study of what master storytellers do to grab audiences. While on this story quest, I learned timeless techniques used since Shakespeare and still applied by great writers and directors today. And once I applied their tricks of the trade to my own scripts, my stories suddenly avoided trash bins and attracted options and sales instead.
Before I share those ancient writing secrets and exercises with you, here’s some history to explain why these techniques work.
The Globe Theatre, which hosted Shakespeare’s plays, attracted a tough audience. The Groundlings, as they were called, would crowd the stage and jeer if an actor or play dared to be boring. Shakespeare quickly developed writing devices to fend off the fickle spectators and keep their attentions riveted to the story instead.
It was all about rhythm for the English playwrights: rhythm that created a mood or feeling, like the beats of a beautiful ballad. In the early 1900s, screenwriters, most of whom were weaned on stage plays, adopted these same rhythms in their early screen stories. In the crucial opening minutes of successful plays and movies, there were specific story beats the playwrights and screenwriters would consciously or subconsciously hit. The five beginning beats, which I’ve gone ahead and named, occur each minute in this order: At-tension, The Build, The Ratchet, Another Notch, and The Jaw Dropper. Take for example, Shakespeare’s Hamlet and Spielberg’s RAIDERS OF THE L
OST ARK:
Minute 1: At-tension
During minute 1 of RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK, Indiana Jones and his crew head deep into a dangerous jungle. During minute 1 of Hamlet, Bernardo wonders who lurks nearby in the dark.
Whether it’s a drama, thriller, comedy, horror, sci-fi, rom-com, or Western, successful movies and plays start with tension. The best writers choose one of five ways to hook you with tension: danger, anxiety, hostility, unease, or sex. Spielberg and Shakespeare chose unease with a hint of danger to start their stories.
Minute 2: The Build
Audience anticipation is built by “building upon” already existing tension. Professional writers know that opening a story with tension will grab the audience, but if they don’t escalate the tension, audiences will lose interest fast. A good way to prompt an escalating tension is by using the phrase, “Not only does.” Not only does Indiana Jones head deep into a dangerous jungle (minute 1), but now Indy finds a deadly arrow (minute 2).
Not only does Bernardo wonder who lurks in the dark (minute 1 in Hamlet), but now Marcellus claims to have seen a dreaded apparition (minute 2).
Minute 3: The Ratchet
Next is what I call the Ratchet. My dad taught me how to use a ratchet wrench when I was a teenager. The ratchet was perfect for tightening bolts inside my old Chevy’s engine block. As the ratchet screwed the bolt closer to the metal plate, I could feel the tension escalate in my wrist. Great writers use this same ratchet principle during minutes 3 and 4. A phrase to help you build the tension even more from the previous minute is: “Not only that, but now.” Not only that, but now: “The poison is still fresh,” Satipo says in RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK. Not only that, but now a scary ghost enters the stage in Hamlet.
Minute 4: Another Notch
Now Write! Page 11