A Basic Primer on Writing Horror Screenplays Part 2

When Irish-born author Bram Stoker first sat down at his desk sometime in the early 1890’s to start the opening chapter of a new literary project, the identity of his main character was most probably only partially formed in his mind, but at some point during the writing of this novel in the mid 1890’s, Stoker decided that his antagonist had to be “a dark nobleman” with an unholy appetite for human blood which mysteriously led him (at least according to some scholars) to the legend of Vlad Tepes, the “Son of the Dragon,” a 15th century Transylvanian prince who allegedly dined and drank blood-laced wine amid the blood-curdling screams of his impaled Turkish enemies. Now, whether or not Stoker was truly influenced by the historical Vlad does not matter, for when this novel appeared on the shelves of booksellers in London on May 26, 1897, the reading public was introduced to a new literary character, one so powerful and unforgettable that his name, even after more than a hundred years, is still recognized all over the world and continues to instill terror and fear in the hearts of millions of readers and movie-goers.

This character is Count Dracula, the quintessential vampire, the “Lord of the Undead,” the “Prince of Darkness” and the main antagonist in Dracula (released in the UK as The Undead) who wrecks nocturnal havoc on the world of the living by seeking out innocent victims (voluptuous females, for the most part) for their warm and vibrant blood. The point here is that Stoker, who also served as acting manager and personal secretary for the great British thespian Sir Henry Irving, unwittingly created one of the most memorable literary horror characters of all time that ranks with Victor Frankenstein, Dr. Jekyll (and Mr. Hyde) and Mary Shelley’s “Creature,” the unnamed monster created from cadavers rifled from some long-forgotten graveyard.

This raises an important question-what exactly is it about Count Dracula that makes him so memorable as a literary/cinematic character? First of all, Bram Stoker did most of his writing during late Victorian times when it was still possible to create an original character simply by conducting research on obscure historical persons and events or by reading ephemeral novels and stories. In today’s world, the ability to create an original character is heavily burdened by the absence of source material which has not already been read, studied and researched by scholars and other interested parties. In other words, a character like Count Dracula is memorable because he was drawn from a primitive, deep well of mythological ideas and representations, i.e. Count Dracula is an archetype, a symbol of man’s deepest fears, the primitive “id” of his subconscious mind.

So how does the modern horror screenwriter go about creating memorable characters if this “primitive, deep well” has dried up? There are two specific solutions to this problem-first, one can “copy” or “borrow” characteristics and personalities from literary horror archetypes, or second, one can use the oldest writing tool known to mankind, namely, the human imagination.

The first method is undoubtedly the most common, due to the fact that screenwriters of horror, such as Richard Matheson, Charles Beaumont (both wrote scripts based on Poe material for director Roger Corman), Jimmy Sangster (Hammer Studios), Milton Subotsky (Amicus/AIP), Tobe Hooper (Texas Chainsaw Massacre), John Carpenter and many others, have relied greatly on these archetypes with three leading the way-the vampire (Count Dracula), the “changeling” or “shape shifter” (Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde) and the pseudo-human being (the Frankenstein monster). The number of

memorable characters that have been created using one or a combination of these archetypes is vast and stretches back many centuries; in Western literature, Beowulf is a prime example, circa 900 A.D. However, utilizing these archetypes does not guarantee that a character will become “memorable,” for many have simply faded into obscurity.

The second method holds much more promise for the horror screenwriter, especially when under the influence of the power and sustainability of the three major archetypes. It would be best to listen to the words of two giants of Western thought concerning their personal views on the human imagination-the Swiss psychologist Carl Gustav Jung and American author of the macabre Edgar Allan Poe. Jung points out that “Without playing with fantasy, no creative work has ever yet come to birth. The debt we owe to the play of the imagination is incalculable,” meaning that a writer seeking to create a unforgettable character must “play with fantasy” by visualizing in the mind, aided by the power of imagination. Poe’s view is more cerebral and penetrating, for he asserts that “It will be found. . . that the ingenious are always fanciful, and the truly imaginative never otherwise than analytic.”

And there’s the key word from Poe-analytic. Use the power of the imagination to analyze the key components of a character, such as motivation, desires, actions/ reactions to specific situations, emotional responses and physical appearance. Also, analyze the physical setting in which the character exists, for this can often lead to new insights and ideas. But most importantly, try to analyze yourself and then transpose that self via fantasy into the soul of your character. This is exactly what Bram Stoker did so

beautifully with his arch-fiend Count Dracula, the world’s most “memorable” bloodsucker.

As might be expected, today’s horror films generally lack truly memorable characters, yet some have managed to overcome this by using either one or both of the solutions mentioned above. For instance, Darren Lynn Bousman’s Saw II (2005) continues the sadistic and torturous activities of Jigsaw, the main antagonist who delights in placing his victims in horrifying life-or-death games; Alexandre Aja’s High Tension (2005) involves schoolmates Marie and Alexia who are taken on a terrifying journey of survival at the hands of a sadistic psychopath; Eli Roth’s Hostel (2006) relates the tale of two American college buddies vacationing in Europe, where they encounter an orgy of sex and drugs which evolves into madness and brutality, mixed with copious amounts of blood and gore, and lastly, Jonathan Liebesman’s Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning (2006) which details in extreme violence the origins of Leatherface and his family of murderers, first introduced by Tobe Hooper in 1974.

However, the main characters in these films, like Jigsaw and Leatherface, are conglomerates of older horror models and are based on forms of the three major archetypes, yet Leatherface, due to being created some thirty years ago, remains a rather memorable character for those who appreciate the “slasher” sub-genre. Thus, it seems that in order to create a memorable horror character, the screenwriter must know his genre better than his audience and be willing to walk that thin, bloody line between originality and duplication.

Upon deciding to sit down and begin the rather long and tedious process of writing a screenplay, most writers have a good idea as to whether to create a script which is character-driven or action-driven. Obviously, some writers are more skilled at developing terrifying characters, while others are more adept at creating excellent page-turning action. Of course, the best writers are skilled in both of these areas, usually because of much practice and refinement and the ability to use their imaginations to the fullest possible extent.

Generally, screenwriters who prefer action-driven stories tend to focus on logical thinking, rational analysis and accuracy and approach the process of writing as a linear movement, meaning that they progress from point A to point B to point C while often using some kind of plot outline which defines the action. Thus, these types of screenwriters are addicted to structure and often rely on proven techniques to move the action forward, such as the ancient Greek model of storytelling utilized by the great tragedians Aeschylus, Homer, Sophocles and Euripides. Also, screenwriters who prefer action-driven stories are usually excellent wordsmiths and have no trouble expressing their ideas on paper.

In contrast, those who prefer to write character-driven scripts tend to focus on aesthetics (i.e., sensory traits), emotions, creativity and the imagination and find it very enjoyable to manipulate the inherent beauty of words and language. These writers are also much more intuitive, meaning that they imbue their characters with traits and ideals that are recognized by everyone. Also, character-driven writers usually create their characters at a very slow yet methodical pace, adding and subtracting traits and characteristics as the story progresses.

Many of those who teach the craft of screenwriting at major universities or on the Internet generally use a test to determine if a writer is stronger at developing action-driven or character-driven scripts via their protagonist/antagonist. Basically, there are ten parts to this test-the overall goal of the protagonist, the obstacles which stand in the way of achieving the goal, what the protagonist stands to lose if the goal is not achieved, the protagonist’s “fatal flaw” or greatest fault and/or greatest strength, and the protagonist’s hates, loves, fears, secrets and dreams. As a result of this test, writers who can answer the first three parts with ease usually prefer to write action-driven scripts and those who can easily answer parts four through ten prefer to write character-driven scripts. However, those who answer all of the parts without having to think real hard about it are adept at writing both types of scripts, and not surprisingly, tend to mix the two together.

With horror screenwriting, a character-driven script is superior to an action-driven script, mainly due to the fact that horror characters tend to propel the story forward from a specific perspective. However, all horror screenplays must also contain dramatic action, for without it, there is no excitement present on the page. For those who read scripts for a living, such as for screenplay competitions or literary agencies, there must be some type of human element within the story to keep the reader’s attention. In Hollywood, character-driven screenplays are somewhat frowned upon, mostly because the present-day industry (which is run by business people instead of artists as in the “old days”) “would rather invest in a commercial film, whether or not is character-driven.” However, a close look at the American Film Institute’s list of the 100 Most Memorable movies “include many of Hollywood’s most successful character-driven films, for not only are the stories compelling and crafted flawlessly, but the characters are memorable and engaging.” Also, while the modern trend in Hollywood seems to be “more interested in mindless movies that play well on the screen. . . character-driven screenplays are honored year after year at the Oscars.”

Obviously, with the success of such horror films as the Saw trilogy which are independently-produced, this has placed much pressure on Hollywood to improve the quality of its films made for distribution in the United States. In addition to making the so-called big budget action-adventures vehicles, Hollywood studios “are actively developing lower-budgeted character-based films,” particularly horror, sci-fi and fantasy. As Frank Leroy so astutely points out, “To succeed these days, screenwriters cannot follow standard formulas, for they must learn how to create true and original characters.”

In his book Screenwriting From the Heart: The Technique of the Character-Driven Screenplay, James Ryan maintains that action or plot-driven scripts are usually developed “from the outside in, meaning that writers generally “start with a one-sentence idea then creates the story and the characters around it (which) dooms the writer to a disastrous script peopled by contrived characters in predictable situations.” The process of discovery is absent from scripts of this sort “because the writer is forcing the characters to fit the script. He is writing from the head and not from the heart” which results in scripts filled with cliches and unoriginal thinking.

In contrast, the character-driven writer “starts from the inside and expands outward” which allows for characters to be developed via the “unconscious imagination.” This process “may explain why character-driven stories are more personal, edgy, quirky and bizarre, like most subconscious thoughts and dreams.” Thus, for the horror screenwriter, tapping into the subconscious mind often helps to create very strange yet compelling characters. A straightforward viewing of the classic Universal horror thrillers or even a number of B-movie horror films from the 1950’s and 1960’s should be sufficient proof that character-driven horror screenplays are superior in all respects.

One of the best tools for the aspiring (or even professional) horror screenwriter which might help to decide which path to take, i.e. plot or character-driven, can be found in Norman Friedman’s excellent book Form and Meaning in Fiction. In Part Three of “Archetypal Patterns,” Friedman states that the archetypal pattern is threefold-the birth and creation phase, the initiation and death phase (the journey, quest, descent, exile) as found in many ancient folklore tales and fables, and the rebirth phase (imagery of the return, ascent and victory). As to character archetypes, Friedman mentions “the male-female polarity,” such as the wanderer and rebel (Odysseus) “and that of the witch, mother, maid or enchantress (Homer’s Sirens, Circe, Penelope, etc.). Although Friedman’s book is very dense at certain points, it should be required reading for all horror screenwriters/scholars.

Horror Cliches to Avoid Like The Plague

The following list is meant as a guide for all horror screenwriters in order to avoid the use of worn-out and highly-familiar clichés which seem to find their way into the best horror scripts by some of the most talented writers working today. The reason for this is quite simple-when pressed for time or approaching some kind of a deadline, most writers panic and use clichés to fill in the blanks which only results in boring and tedious stories that do not hold the reader’s/viewer’s attention. Of course, for those under the age of ten or so, certain clichés will not be that familiar, but for those over thirty, clichés remove all of the excitement and often cause the viewers to squirm in their seats and long for the predictable conclusion so they can just go home and watch an old classic horror film on DVD. One may be asking, “How do I avoid using these clichés in my screenplay?” The answer is to use the power of your imagination by developing alternatives to these clichés which must be avoided like the plague.

1. Too many times, a cat (not necessarily black) springs from nowhere or a bird swoops down from the darkness, both aimed at increasing the tension. These types of devices can be used at times, but one must be very inventive to pull it off.
2. One of the main characters saves the day after being apparently killed or severely injured, or the “monster” suddenly re-appears, even after being shot, stabbed, burned, etc. (Michael Myers in Halloween). This device, like the one above, can also be used effectively but only by those with very inventive minds.
3. The main antagonist explains some type of evil plan, such as to take over the world, destroy society or a group of people which he finds despicable or immoral. Obviously, the plan will fail and the “good guys” will come out on top.
4. A slamming or creaking door; a window that suddenly fall shut by itself; creaking floorboards; a slowly-turning doorknob. Under special circumstances, these clichés work effectively, but should be avoided whenever possible.
5. While being chased by a marauding “monster,” a group of people decide to split up or one person sneaks off, attempting to save his/her companions.
6. Mark and Mary are being chased by a “monster”; they head for the car, jump inside and. . .it does not start. Try to avoid using all types of vehicles if possible; however, under certain circumstances, vehicles can be used to increase tension and suspense.
7. Avoid like the plague any and all suggestions of some kind of spirit/mind transfer, such as Satan transference to Regan in The Exorcist.
8. The use of thunder and lightning must be kept to a bare minimum. Why not have something terrible occur on a bright, sunshine-filled afternoon? Also, characters that slip in the dirt, mud or over rocks should be avoided like the plague, especially when the “monster” is ten feet behind them. Never allow one of these characters to say, “Go on! Leave me behind!”
9. NEVER use escaped convicts, escapees from an asylum, traditional “mad scientists,” shy, loner types that react violently; try to avoid using clothing that stands out from all others, like a mask, a cape or denim coveralls (Jason in Friday the 13th). Of course, if your villain/antagonist is based on an historical/literary character like Count Dracula, certain styles of clothing would be mandatory, unless the story is set in modern times.
10. Do not have your main characters explore a creepy or deserted building simply because it is there unless the building plays a major role in the plot (Hooper’s Texas Chainsaw Massacre).
11. Avoid like the plague all instances where a character ends up in a shower or a bathroom (Psycho). However, if your story depends on erotic images/situations, a bathroom may be appropriate, yet always attempt to be as creative as possible.
12. NEVER use an item, such as an ancient book, a game or some type of puzzle to move the story forward or as devices to summon the devil or evil spirits. If your main character is a vampire, NEVER use bats, rats, scorpions or similar creatures as symbols; if your main character is female, avoid like the plague any and all images that refer to her as a buxom blonde or so pretty that no one will suspect that she is crazy or insane.
13. NEVER use a mother figure as a supportive character for another character that is obviously “out of the mainstream” (Norman Bates’ Mother in Psycho, for example); also, NEVER have a main character that is fixated with his/her mother, father, uncle, etc. But once again, using a mother figure may be a necessary device in the overall plot of your story, and if so, try to be imaginative and inventive.
14. Avoid like the plague any and all characters that stand around wearing sun glasses at night or drive big, black cars; also, no dark suits or clothing that indicates “These guys are real bad men!”

These are just a few examples of horror clichés to avoid like the plague. There are many others out there, but the secret is to recognize these clichés immediately and leave them out. As previously mentioned, the power of the human imagination must not be underestimated, for it is the foundation of all creativity. If you are tempted to use one of these or some other worn-out, trite cliché, just think about it for a few moments and you might surprise yourself at how truly imaginative your mind can be.

The Basic Elements of Horror Screenwriting

According to American author H. P. Lovecraft, a writer “must never state a specific horror element when it can be suggested.” Exactly what does the “Father of Modern Horror” mean by this simple statement? Basically, Lovecraft is pointing out that it is best to leave as much to the reader’s imagination as possible, especially pertaining to the description of events and situations involving an emotional response. However, as William Patrick relates, “what worked for Lovecraft in the 1920’s and 1930’s, Richard Matheson and Ray Bradbury in the 1950’s and Stephen King in the 1970’s and 1980’s does not necessarily work with readers and movie-goers today.” In order to discover what works with horror fans today, Patrick asked thirty-two undergraduates at Moravian College in Pennsylvania two crucial questions-first, “What are the elements that make for a good horror story?” and second, “What ruins a horror story for you personally?”

Patrick was curious as to whether their answers would reveal “a difference between standards that critics have set for contemporary horror versus the personal criteria that readers use” before purchasing a horror novel or attending a horror film. Prior to asking these questions of his students, Patrick examined in detail a list of horror bestsellers from the past which revealed “striking differences between popular taste (or what sells at the bookstores and on-line) and critical taste (or what is praised by the critics).” Patrick’s conclusion was that any horror writer “who adheres to the results of a market survey is bound to write perfunctory and uninspired drivel.”

Patrick adds that the results of this survey of his undergraduate students was quite surprising, especially after reading and discussing more than forty novels and short stories from commercial and independent publishers by such authors as Shirley Jackson (The Haunting of Hill House), Richard Matheson, Peter Straub (Ghost Story), Dean Koontz and Stephen King. Apparently, all of Patrick’s students agreed that a good horror story requires lots of suspense, a satisfying conclusion, believable characters, vivid settings, good pacing, an adequate amount of gore and the use of suggestiveness in descriptions, rather than a blunt, full force gross-out.

Patrick’s survey showed that “almost one hundred percent of the students listed suspense as the primary ingredient of a good horror story” which indicates that true horror entertainment must contain elements of anticipation, dread and uncertainty, the three key traits of suspense. In addition, Patrick’s students “preferred for this unrelenting suspense to lead to an unexpected, even shocking ending,” one that will leave the reader “scared shitless.” According to Dean Koontz, in order to be read (or viewed), the writer “had better make sure he tells a suspense-packed story that leads to a dynamite ending.”

Also, most of Patrick’s students stressed the importance of strong and believable characters, the “engines of a story’s power.” Koontz acknowledges that “suspense. . . results primarily from the reader’s identification with and concern about the lead characters” which must be complex and convincing as well as appealing. For one student, “a really good horror story occurs when the author is able to make the reader feel for the characters-their pain, fear, happiness and wanting.” A third requirement is that a good horror story “must be anchored solidly in a believable setting” that provides room to explore the natural world and the supernatural and one that “accentuates the grotesque.” In essence, all good horror fiction, particularly that which has been adapted for the screen, requires “a balance between the realistic and the bizarre” and must embrace “the ordinary so that the extraordinary will be heightened.”

The pace of a good horror story is also important, meaning that the action must be level throughout the tale which provides for a fast-paced and suspenseful horror ride. This desire on the part of Patrick’s students may be a sign of the times, for no doubt “much could be made of the shortened attention spans of this generation that has never known life without television.” As to the use and abuse of gore, it is generally accepted that gore is expected to be a major element in today’s horror fiction and films, particularly if they fall within the sub-genre known as “splatterpunk.” Of course, the overall job of the horror writer “has always been to assault social taboos, broadcast unspeakable urges and show the nauseating possibilities that lie within” every human being. However, a thin line separates effective from ineffective gore, for such a thing “must be justified by the story’s content, tone and theme.”

Lastly, all good and effective horror fiction must exhibit the author’s “preference for suggestiveness in description,” also known as “narrative blurring.” As one observant student put it, “Description should be only enough so that the reader can get a picture, but not so much that there’s nothing left for the imagination.” A prime example of this can be found in Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “The Tell-Tale Heart,” wherein he describes the dismemberment of a body as such: “First of all, I cut off the head, and the arms, and the legs. There was no blood spot to wash out. . . I was too wary for that-a tub had caught it all!” Very short yet extremely effective!

In the end, a good horror story must contain all of these elements woven together in such a way that the reader/viewer will come back again and again to be “scared shitless” as one of Patrick’s students related in the survey. One of the best quotes related to horror writing comes from the mind of H.P. Lovecraft who once remarked, “Good horror writers merely collaborate with our minds,” meaning that the writer puts down on paper what is already in the mind of the reader/viewer, a task which at first seems relatively simple.

The Future of Horror Film

So, what does the future hold for the horror film? Many are convinced that the genre has already reached a saturation point where original material and ideas are non-existent. This is not surprising, considering the fact that the horror film has been around for almost a hundred years, going back to the days of Thomas Edison’s 10 minute-long version of Frankenstein in 1910. In contrast, some argue that in the future, much like in the past, horror films will continue to reflect the social and cultural landscapes in which they are produced and presented on the silver screen. This viewpoint is especially relevant when we consider the events that transpired on September 11, 2001 when 3,000 persons were murdered by so-called terrorists linked to a number of very radical Muslim extremist groups. Scott Tobias, a horror film researcher and historian, points out that the 9/11 event created “a deeper fear among young people,” based on the idea that they no longer have control over their individual destinies. Thus, “death could come at any time, and even if they can see the gears at work, they can’t do anything to stop it.”

As a supportive note, Tobias provides some examples, such as Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1959 original version) which symbolizes “the height of McCarthyism” and the fears associated with the Cold War and nuclear annihilation and Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (1968) which “echoes these same themes, but is more direct and much simpler-that something is out to get us.” In essence, Body Snatchers is conveying the suggestion that one must not trust his/her neighbors, while Night of the Living Dead explicitly says, “Don’t trust anyone.”

Many of today’s horror films are far different than their predecessors, films like the Saw trilogy and Hostel which are basically nothing more than “torture-fests in which the protagonists live in constant fear of death-a very post 9/11 concept.” Also, many modern horror films have unfortunately been “stripped of psychological depth. The loss of identity and uncertainty in whom one might trust” has been replaced with “a simple aversion to pain and dismemberment.” However, such horrific traits as cinematic pain and dismemberment have been around for decades, beginning roughly in the early 1960’s with such fright flicks as Mario Bava’s Black Sunday and Hitchcock’s Psycho. In addition, many contemporary horror films appeal to today’s mass audiences just as they did in the “old days” prior to 9/11 and reflect a myriad of social and cultural manifestations. Basically speaking, the future of the horror film rests on relatively firm ground, for as long as audiences express the desire to be frightened out of their wits, the horror film will survive and flourish regardless of societal flux and changes.

Alan Green, writing in “The Future of Horror,” observes that “Good horror movies come along so rarely” and that when they do, they “all have. . . that elusive confluence of character, plot and theme” that is completely lacking in contemporary slasher/shock films. Noel Murray, another popular horror film scholar, asserts that horror films of the future “ will continue playing on our fears of death and pain” while also, perhaps for the first time in cinematic history, relying on things for their horror effect which we in the present have not yet even considered as possible sources for terror.

Tobias adds that today’s horror film writers are far below par when it comes to talent and the ability to use the human imagination. His concerns include the suggestion that “there are no great horror auteurs emerging from the pack. . . There are no Romeros, Carpenters or Argentos that we can count on to put their distinctive stamps on horror cinema and carry the genre to new places.” Since we do not have the gift of premonition, it is unclear whether writers and directors like Romero and Carpenter will emerge from this futuristic pack, but even if they do, the requirements for horror will still be the same, being a “command of craft and life experience needed to create a “Story,” for without compelling characters and universal themes, the plot, no matter how sensational, will ring hollow.”

One of the most unfortunate aspects of modern horror films is that they tend to be more and more explicit with each production, due perhaps to “the need of the writer to stand out in a very large crowd” of screenwriters. Another unfortunate scenario is related to the writers of the past who are now, for the most part, dead and buried or too old to sit up at a desk. “Long gone is the subtle interplay” between actors and actresses from the 1940’s and 1950’s as are “the writers with the learned craft needed to fashion” true horror films. These facts take us back to the very foundations of writing, for despite the presence of tantalizing and novel sub-genres in future horror scripts, if they lack “compelling characters, (they) will not engage a thinking audience.”

To make matters worse, Murray declares that “the average young writer (especially those that try their hand at horror) appear incapable of producing finely-crafted “Story,” due to not being exposed to the “Horror Masters” of the past and a lack of interest in classic horror films which many young writers view as trite, boring and uninteresting. In the future, such writers as these will certainly be responsible for creating future horror stories, and depending on how much they lack in imagination, horror film audiences may be content with films that “lack depth of character and finely-crafted turning points.”

The implications are thus very frightening, for in the future, horror film audiences, if not audiences in general, might not be capable of understanding nor be able to appreciate classic storytelling techniques. Thus, future audiences might not see the differences between great “Story” and simple entertainment which may be “mindless, even nonsensical.” According to Robert McKee, paraphrasing Aristotle, “When the storytelling goes bad in society, the result is decadence.”

Of course, the above scenarios could all be wrong and the future of the horror film may be much brighter than expected. Nevertheless, as long as there are writers, directors and producers who fervently desire to create art instead of trash, there will always be excellent horror films for those who require pure terror over simplified nonsense. In essence, do not become too disappointed by what you have read in this article, for the future is generally unknown unless you have the gift of prophecy or even better the insight to see into the future, thus making your own career in horror cinema a definite and worthwhile goal.