Blown Away DVD: Readers Can Wait. Delay the Payoff and Build Major Suspense!
Posted by Aric Mitchell at 7:17 PM
Welcome back, one and all. This week we look at a film endangered of being forgotten – and unjustly so. While BLOWN AWAY won’t go down on any Ten Best lists, it’s a solid piece of filmmaking, and probably one of the last American action movies to rely on real-world special effects. Filled with great character development and tons of earth-trembling explosions, the film masters in suspense, and provides textbook examples in suspense for all creators.
In BLOWN AWAY Jeff Bridges plays Jimmy Dove, a Boston bomb squad technician with a haunted past, now about to revisit him in the form of a mad bomber, his ex-mentor. Using the tried-and-true, teacher-versus-pupil, good-versus-evil formula the film avoids the discomforts of cliché by pulling the rug out from the audience’s feet every chance it gets, and lighting a slow burning fuse of anticipation that explodes in a climactic final showdown, and one of the largest explosions ever filmed. (For the comic book author, a full-page shot indeed.) While film has many advantages to building suspense, we in the print medium are not as handicapped as we think.
The film opens as Gaerity (Tommy Lee Jones) awaits the return of his cell mate in the bowels of an Irish prison. We glimpse their camaraderie. We know there is an escape plan. And we know Gaerity could have gone alone, but for some reason, he chooses not to. He waits, apparently out of friendship. “I’ll wake you when it’s time,” he tells the man. And he keeps that promise, but follows it with a switchblade to the windpipe seconds later.
In the first reversal, Gaerity shows us why he waited. He needed a liquid to build the explosive that leads to his escape – so he uses his friend’s blood. Immediately, the film creates suspense, establishing clearly who the villain is, and shrouding his motives. Our expectations for Gaerity cause uncertainty (till the reveal) of the lengths he will go to, and what those closest to him can expect if they hang around too long.
The opening scene accomplishes both types of suspense – what I will call “the impulse buy” and “the staples.” The former is a plot-driven construct. In other words, it is born of the story environment. The latter is character-driven, an absolute necessity if the former is to succeed. Think of it like a trip to Wal-Mart, or some other large multi-purpose supermarket. You show up for the staples. Sure, you may purchase some impulse items along the way, but you’ll never buy into them if the staples don’t get you in the store.
With the staples the audience finds out what they should expect from the major players. What evils is our villain capable of? What nasty memories haunt our protagonist? What extent will he go to for self-protection and/or prevention of the evildoer’s ghastly plan? In other words, we discover who the characters are as people. Is he the type that would beat his granny to death with a lead pipe? Would he storm into a burning tenement to save a small child? Perhaps he’s capable of both extremes?
BLOWN AWAY establishes all these parameters early in the plot, and allows suspense to spread like a viral epidemic with each plot-based development – the impulse buys. At this point, we know what the cast is capable of. Now we can move to the environment of the story to create more chills. BLOWN AWAY does so with one spectacular set-piece involving Dove’s new wife and step-child as they return from the grocery store. The everyday mundane chores are each put to the test as wife and daughter reach for hanging light switches, turn on burners, ignite oven flames, and answer phone calls, oblivious to the possibility there is a madman watching them with expertise in homemade explosives.
Writers John Rice, Joe Batteer, and Jay Roach, and director Hopkins, realize how to place their visuals to milk this scene of every last drop of suspense. Just as each new possible deathtrap is revealed, the scene cuts to Dove racing across town, frantic to stop the explosion before it occurs. Meanwhile, we’re not sure if there is an explosion till the camera returns, and it’s time for the next deathtrap.
If I were writing this scene in comic book form, I would lay out panels so that the switch is flicked at the end of the page. Keep audiences wondering if the worst they think is about to happen really does, or if it’s just an overactive, paranoid imagination. If you can wait an extra page, audiences will love you for it. We all like to say we’re not the beat-around-the-bush types. But when it comes to suspense, we love to be jacked around. It’s basic human nature. That’s why TV programs such as HERO and comic books like STAR WARS, SPIDER-MAN, and FEAR AGENT continue to enthrall us.
When crafting suspenseful scenes for your story, recall and reuse the two types of suspense. Know these two forms are inseparable, and one cannot exist without the other. As with good storytelling, suspense starts with knowing your characters – their personalities, their capabilities, their limitations. Once they’re established, you’ll be surprised where they take you; and you won’t be able to stand the wait of getting there.
In BLOWN AWAY Jeff Bridges plays Jimmy Dove, a Boston bomb squad technician with a haunted past, now about to revisit him in the form of a mad bomber, his ex-mentor. Using the tried-and-true, teacher-versus-pupil, good-versus-evil formula the film avoids the discomforts of cliché by pulling the rug out from the audience’s feet every chance it gets, and lighting a slow burning fuse of anticipation that explodes in a climactic final showdown, and one of the largest explosions ever filmed. (For the comic book author, a full-page shot indeed.) While film has many advantages to building suspense, we in the print medium are not as handicapped as we think.
The film opens as Gaerity (Tommy Lee Jones) awaits the return of his cell mate in the bowels of an Irish prison. We glimpse their camaraderie. We know there is an escape plan. And we know Gaerity could have gone alone, but for some reason, he chooses not to. He waits, apparently out of friendship. “I’ll wake you when it’s time,” he tells the man. And he keeps that promise, but follows it with a switchblade to the windpipe seconds later.
In the first reversal, Gaerity shows us why he waited. He needed a liquid to build the explosive that leads to his escape – so he uses his friend’s blood. Immediately, the film creates suspense, establishing clearly who the villain is, and shrouding his motives. Our expectations for Gaerity cause uncertainty (till the reveal) of the lengths he will go to, and what those closest to him can expect if they hang around too long.
The opening scene accomplishes both types of suspense – what I will call “the impulse buy” and “the staples.” The former is a plot-driven construct. In other words, it is born of the story environment. The latter is character-driven, an absolute necessity if the former is to succeed. Think of it like a trip to Wal-Mart, or some other large multi-purpose supermarket. You show up for the staples. Sure, you may purchase some impulse items along the way, but you’ll never buy into them if the staples don’t get you in the store.
With the staples the audience finds out what they should expect from the major players. What evils is our villain capable of? What nasty memories haunt our protagonist? What extent will he go to for self-protection and/or prevention of the evildoer’s ghastly plan? In other words, we discover who the characters are as people. Is he the type that would beat his granny to death with a lead pipe? Would he storm into a burning tenement to save a small child? Perhaps he’s capable of both extremes?
BLOWN AWAY establishes all these parameters early in the plot, and allows suspense to spread like a viral epidemic with each plot-based development – the impulse buys. At this point, we know what the cast is capable of. Now we can move to the environment of the story to create more chills. BLOWN AWAY does so with one spectacular set-piece involving Dove’s new wife and step-child as they return from the grocery store. The everyday mundane chores are each put to the test as wife and daughter reach for hanging light switches, turn on burners, ignite oven flames, and answer phone calls, oblivious to the possibility there is a madman watching them with expertise in homemade explosives.
Writers John Rice, Joe Batteer, and Jay Roach, and director Hopkins, realize how to place their visuals to milk this scene of every last drop of suspense. Just as each new possible deathtrap is revealed, the scene cuts to Dove racing across town, frantic to stop the explosion before it occurs. Meanwhile, we’re not sure if there is an explosion till the camera returns, and it’s time for the next deathtrap.
If I were writing this scene in comic book form, I would lay out panels so that the switch is flicked at the end of the page. Keep audiences wondering if the worst they think is about to happen really does, or if it’s just an overactive, paranoid imagination. If you can wait an extra page, audiences will love you for it. We all like to say we’re not the beat-around-the-bush types. But when it comes to suspense, we love to be jacked around. It’s basic human nature. That’s why TV programs such as HERO and comic books like STAR WARS, SPIDER-MAN, and FEAR AGENT continue to enthrall us.
When crafting suspenseful scenes for your story, recall and reuse the two types of suspense. Know these two forms are inseparable, and one cannot exist without the other. As with good storytelling, suspense starts with knowing your characters – their personalities, their capabilities, their limitations. Once they’re established, you’ll be surprised where they take you; and you won’t be able to stand the wait of getting there.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment