by Blake Snyder
As far as the “sin” is concerned, think about all those teen slasher movies in which “Michael Myers” and “Jason” run riot. “Have sex and die,” says Jamie Kennedy, who lays out the rules in Scream, and speaks to why guilt about sin is important. Sex works in teen-targeted movies because it’s new for them — and scary. For adults, “sins” like putting career over family, as Ellen Burstyn does in The Exorcist and Naomi Watts does in The Ring, or greed over ethics like in Jaws, when the town fathers of Amity keep the beaches open to protect their “summer dollars,” or even in a dark comedy like The Cable Guy when Matthew Broderick tries to get free cable! — these hit a universal guilt button.
Remember: Without a sin of some kind, it’s not a total MITH experience. Part of the scare is knowing that one thing the hero did wrong was answer the doorbell and say: “Come on in!”
And yet with the advent of what we’ll call the “Nihilist Monster” story, influenced by the trend in Japanese horror films, and represented by a movie like The Grudge, there appear to be some MITH movies in which no sin is committed. Films in this category, like Saw, American Psycho, and Cabin Fever, have an otherworldly quality and characters that seem oblivious — but that’s the point, for theirs is the sin of ignorance. The heroes of these films are like us, blithely going along when they are suddenly sucked into an evil world long disregarded — which now must be dealt with. And as a movie like Saw reveals, it’s about finding what we did wrong fast — or risk having to hop away!
There are other fine points that go with many a MITH. A character that shows up in a lot of these films is one I call the Half Man. This is a survivor who has run into the monster before — or has prior knowledge of the evil — and come away damaged because of it. Robert Shaw as Quint is the Half Man in Jaws; Scatman Crothers is the Half Man in The Shining; and Ian Holm as Ash in Alien is not only Half Man but also half robot! From a practical screenwriting point of view, the Half Man allows us to reveal the myth of the monster — and give the hero a hint about what dealing with the monster entails. Many of these Half Man characters wind up dying at the “All Is Lost” moment on page 75 and are the “flawed mentors” of each story, warning us by their deaths … about the horror that awaits.
Isn’t that Half Man thing cool?
If you are writing a Monster in the House story, you’re probably itching to race to your computer and start figuring out how to put that character into your script.
Well, don’t run off just yet.
What started with a buddy telling me about how two movies were the same inspired the first of our genres. But wait! There’s a lot more cool stuff to come.
HOW TO TELL IF YOUR HIT IS A MITH!
If your script has these components (and if not, for God’s sake try harder!), a MITH film festival is in your future:
A “monster,” supernatural in its powers — even if its strength derives from insanity — and “evil” at its core.
A “house,” meaning an enclosed space that can include a family unit, an entire town, or “the world.”
A “sin.” Someone is guilty of bringing the monster in the house … a transgression that can include ignorance.
The following breakdowns show the variety of Monster-in-the-House tales and the repeating elements all MITHs have.
ALIEN (1979)
I remember when this film premiered and even the slow appearance of the letters in the title sequence was eerie — and unforgettable. Many consider the sequel, Aliens, the superior film, but for me you can’t beat director Ridley Scott — or this movie.
Alien is set on a spaceship named The Nostromo, a reference to the Joseph Conrad novel about greed. And greed is not good when it comes to monsters. Just look at other “Pure Monster” movies like Jurassic Park and Jaws to see how a lesson about that particular sin unfolds.
The “monster” is allowed into this isolated “house” after an argument between Sigourney Weaver as Ripley and a cyborg named Ash (Ian Holm). Sigourney will become the hero by stepping up to the challenge this mistake represents — and by growing. She’ll go from someone who won’t let John Hurt (and a pal) onboard without quarantine, to one who risks her life to save a cat.
It may take place in the future, but what we find in Alien is a story that’s been re-told for centuries — one with an enclosed space, a beast that won’t quit, and a group that realizes too late that life is short.
MITH Type: Pure Monster
MITH Cousins: Jaws, Tremors, The Thing, Jurassic Park, Anaconda, Deep Blue Sea, Godzilla, Independence Day, Men in Black, Lake Placid
ALIEN
Screenplay by Dan O’Bannon
Story by Dan O’Bannon & Ronald Shusett
Opening Image: A space cruiser rumbles through the void. Egglike sleep chambers open and the crew stirs from a state of suspended animation. A computer named “Mother” has given birth to these early risers. There are seven members of the team; there will be a lot fewer by the end of the picture.
Theme Stated: The crew gathers around the breakfast table and amid the banter of camaraderie, Parker (Yaphet Kotto) turns to Kane (John Hurt) and says: “Anybody ever tell you that you look dead?” What is it to be alive — and human? That’s our theme.
Set-Up: The world of The Nostromo is stratified; each person onboard represents a different class of this society. It is overseen by “Science Officer” Ash (Ian Holm) and a bearded Dallas (Tom Skerritt) as the sensitive ’70s leader (aka alien food). And on the periphery, observing, is Ripley (Sigourney Weaver). She stands apart from the others, and is kind of a loner. By Minute 10 we’ve met everyone in the A story — and know exactly who they are! We also learn something is up with Tom. He goes to a little computer room only he as “the leader” can access. We don’t see what it is, but Tom and “Mother” have a secret.
Catalyst: Tom tells the crew they’re not “home” yet; they’ve been called to a strange planet by a distress signal. The underclass complains. But when they’re informed that they’ll lose their “shares” if they don’t go on the rescue, they comply.
Debate: What is this thing the crew has been called to deal with? Sigourney begins to emerge as the “smart one.” She investigates the signal and can’t determine if it’s an SOS or a warning to stay away. And yet, the less cautious members of the crew (i.e., the guy with the beard) press on and decide to land on the forbidden planet anyway.
Break into Two: When the crew disembarks to venture onto the weird world, we have broached the monster’s lair. And when John Hurt sticks his face over a hatching alien egg in a cave on this alien planet, a strange beast gloms onto his space helmet. From here on all bets are off, and we are forced to make a new rule: Never stick your face over an alien egg in a cave on an alien planet. Agreed? By the time John is allowed back onboard — after an argument between Sigourney and Ian — we’ve entered Act Two.
B Story: The B story is usually the love story and is, kind of, in this film too. It is between Sigourney and Ian Holm. Their fight sets this “love story” into motion. And though they won’t actually kiss, Ian will make an odd attempt to have “sex” with Sigourney. It is with this “Half Man” she will discuss the theme of being human — and grow as one.
Fun and Games: A classic example of “Fun and Games” is seen in the crew’s interactions with the alien intruder. If the “Thesis” world of Act One is normal, the “Anti-thesis” world of Act Two is the “funhouse-mirror” version — all due to the title character: a strange-looking crab that plays “hide and seek” in the lab and bleeds acid that eats through the ship’s hull. But when this monster drops off John’s face and dies, John appears to be fine.
Midpoint: The “stakes are raised” at Minute 56 when, as the crew eats dinner, the creature explodes out of John’s chest and skates away like a big, ugly baby — exactly at the place where Yaphet told John he “looked dead.” Now he is. The “fun” is over. A and B stories cross as Sigourney looks to Ian for an explanation.
Bad Guys Close In: One
by one the creature kills off the crew, and tension builds. I use the term Turn, Turn, Turn to describe how a movie plot must not only go forward, it must change and intensify to be successful — and the way the monster morphs throughout this film is a great example. The crew is always one step behind this supernatural beast, and the stress begins to show. Harry Dean gets it next, and then so does Tom in a really scary “Monster in the Air Duct” sequence. This beat, the male “hero” dying, was a surprise when the film premiered. Without “the leader,” both the crew — and we in the audience — see how unstoppable the alien is.
All Is Lost: Finally in charge, Sigourney learns the truth from “Mother”: The company knew the alien was a killer, but sent The Nostromo to retrieve it because of its value; the “sin” of the company is exposed. Sigourney also discovers Ian is a robot — and a sex-crazed one at that. He even claims to “admire” the alien, that rat! In a battle with Ian, Sigourney is rescued by Yaphet, who clubs the cyborg. The “whiff of death” includes A and B stories crossing as the Half Man tells Sigourney she won’t survive.
Dark Night of the Soul: The crew knows they’re going to die. Their despair is even greater thanks to their isolation.
Break into Three: But wait, there’s hope! Sigourney has a plan: Destroy the ship and the alien, and flee in an escape pod.
Finale: Foolishly Yaphet and another crew member die, leaving Sigourney and Jones, the cat. Sigourney shows Act Three Synthesis by combining her “loner” qualities with wisdom to emerge as the hero. By going back to “save the cat,” she proves she’s grown — and even though she lets the monster slip into her escape pod unnoticed, she shows ultimate strength when she pushes it out the door to die.
Final Image: One survivor … plus cat … asleep at last.
FATAL ATTRACTION (1987)
Much has been written about the metaphor this STD-era movie represents, but one thing is certain: It’s the best cautionary tale about fooling around at the office ever made.
That Glenn Close! She is one scary lady. And while the real bad guy is Michael Douglas for beginning this affair in the first place, the magic trick director Adrian Lyne pulls off is making Michael seem like a victim — because it is his sin, infidelity, that brings the monster to his door.
Fatal Attraction represents a special brand of MITH, the “Domestic Monster,” as seen in films like Single White Female and One Hour Photo. Even comic versions of this tale, e.g., The Cable Guy, owe a great debt to Fatal Attraction — and to Glenn. It is Glenn Close’s amazing performance — almost reasonable one minute, boiling bunnies the next — that lets the adulterous Michael off the hook, and makes even a ringing telephone seem scary.
The lesson for writers wishing to add to this branch of MITH movie is clear. One word: primal. From the protection of family, to the “sin” which risks his family’s safety, to the pet Michael buys his little girl — a rabbit! — this is a tale about the risks and responsibilities of sex, told in a way that would be clear even to a caveman.
MITH Type: Domestic Monster
MITH Cousins: Play Misty for Me, The Hand That Rocks the Cradle, Pacific Heights, Poison Ivy, The Fan, Single White Female, The Crush, Swimfan, The Cable Guy, One Hour Photo
FATAL ATTRACTION
Original Screenplay by James Dearden
Opening Image: Portrait of a happy family. Meet the Gallaghers — Dan (Michael Douglas) and, in the next room, his wife Beth (Anne Archer) and their androgynous child, Ellen (Ellen Latzen).
Theme Stated: Anne gets territorial when her daughter plays with her lipstick. “Ellen, I don’t want you messing with my makeup. I told you a million times,” Anne warns. Trespassing into places we don’t belong will be the running theme.
Set-Up: A big city party for Michael’s law firm where, if you look Close, you’ll see Alex Forrest (Glenn Close) lurking near the hors d’oeuvres. Michael has it all — a stunning wife and sweet child, a good job, friends. Yet he flirts with Glenn.
Catalyst: Anne takes their daughter and leaves Michael for the weekend. Alone in the city due to a business meeting, Michael bumps into Glenn. Their flirtation can continue.
Debate: Can Michael be discreet? From the moment Michael agrees to have a glass of wine with Glenn, he has already strayed. I know this because I’ve asked women, one of whom, while watching this film, kept referring to Michael as “You bastard!” The name-calling begins with this innocent-seeming lunch. The debate question seems to argue trespassing is okay — if we’re careful. Can two adults have a no-fault affair? For a time, as they lock hips in the elevator of Glenn’s edge-o’-hell building and against the sink in her messy kitchen, the answer seems to be: maybe.
Break into Two: Michael returns home after catting around, manages a “make nice” call to Anne in the country, and all seems swell … until the phone rings. Glenn has his home number. When he agrees to meet her again, Michael plunges into the “upside-down world” of Act Two and an affair that is now a relationship.
B Story: The B story is the secret “love story” between Glenn and Michael. And though it isn’t love, Michael will get the lesson of a lifetime and learn he really did have it all. By frolicking in the park with Glenn, and later at her place listening to opera, he opens himself up to her. We also learn of a possible root cause of Glenn’s fanatical clinging — the sudden death of her father when she was a girl. Does Glenn have abandonment issues or is she just nuttier than a Hickory Farms Pecan Sampler?
Fun and Games: In this tense Fun and Games section, the “promise of the premise” shows what happens when being discreet begins to unravel. And yet for now, Michael is still in control. Sure Glenn cuts her wrists to make Michael stay the night with her. Yeah, she shows up at his job unexpectedly with tickets to Madame Butterfly. But so far it’s more like a bad date. This is why we signed up to see this movie, to squirm uncomfortably in our seats thinking: “I better call that girl in Accounting and tell her I was kidding when I said we should have coffee sometime.”
Midpoint: The “bad date” scenario ends, and the A and B stories cross, when Glenn announces she’s pregnant. This news “raises the stakes” and is a great example of an alarming “midpoint bump.” Michael is officially in over his head DNA-wise; the consequences of spreading his seed hits home. And while he handles this news with “compassion,” offering to pay for the abortion — what a guy! — this is not how Glenn wants to handle the situation.
Bad Guys Close In: Now the “Fun and Games” of a date gone wrong get serious. Both at home with his internal “team” of wife and daughter, and externally, as Michael learns of the “Half Man” in his office (who had an affair and paid the price), the amping up of the trespassing by Glenn gets scarier — and the vice that has Michael in its grip begins to tighten. Posing as a buyer for the home Michael’s now trying to sell, Glenn shows up while he’s out, and later throws acid on his car. Even at work, Michael’s promotion is jeopardized by his stalker.
All Is Lost: The tension finally explodes when Glenn follows Michael to his new home, kills his daughter’s bunny, and plops it in a pot of boiling water for Anne to find. (Talk about “whiff of death”!) Symbolically, Glenn is leaving Anne a message: Guess what, the rabbit died — the old school way of proving a pregnancy.
Dark Night of the Soul: With his wife and daughter traumatized by this event, Michael must now admit his sin. He’s been putting it off, but this is how he will cleanse himself.
Break into Three: Michael confesses. Anne’s reaction to Michael’s pitiful tale is reasonable until he tells her Glenn’s pregnant — possibly with his baby. The invasion of their home now includes child support. With Anne’s back-up, Michael gets on the phone and warns Glenn that his wife knows and she is to stay away.
Finale: But she can’t. After kidnapping his daughter and causing his wife to get in an auto accident, Glenn is attacked by Michael in her cave as A and B stories cross for the last time. It’s a violent reprise of their earlier sex scene. Then, in one of the great film finishes,
a knife-welding Glenn invades Anne and Michael’s country home and, in a moment of Synthesis, the couple works together to fight back. But it’s Anne who kills the intruder. Glenn was “messing” where she didn’t belong.
Final Image: As Michael and Anne bid goodbye to the police, we linger on a photo of Michael, Anne, and daughter — and we know things have changed. The monster is dead! Let the therapy begin!
SCREAM (1996)
Ah, the “dead teenager” movie. Where would our chat about monster flicks be without it? The squirmy, uncertain, acne-plagued years are the perfect time of life to thrust a knife-wielding killer. But by the early ’90S, the “dead teenager” movie was day-old toast. “Jason” and “Michael Meyers” were on hiatus and Wes Craven, who would go on to direct Scream, was too. Then in a single weekend — or so the apocryphal story goes — Kevin Williamson sat down and wrote the spec screenplay he titled Scary Movie, and the teen slasher flick was re-born — tongue firmly planted in cheek.
Movies like Scream, and others starring teenagers, are bald in their intent — and aimed about as pointedly as one can at the target market. They are part of a larger category called “Serial Monster,” stories starring a human fiend made hyper-powerful by insanity and preying on the citizens of an entire town or group with a common bond or secret (I Know What You Did Last Summer). Whatever prompts these monsters to kill — like the twisted form of revenge it is here — is fueled by evil. Though the “Half Man,” Jamie Kennedy, won’t be knocked off until Scream 2, he sorta dies in this film — and just where he’s supposed to! And his function remains the same: Tell the rules of what it takes for teenagers to survive when a monster is in the house.