The Thrill of It All, Part 2

Copyright 2020 by Gary L. Pullman

In Part 1 of “The Thrill of It All,” we analyzed some of the design techniques that movie posters for thrillers use to attract audiences. The techniques that we identified are:

• Make sure that your protagonist stands out from other characters.
• For as long as possible, merely suggest the menace that your main character faces.
• For as long as possible, withhold context: do not explain the cause of the protagonist's dilemma until the end of the story; this ploy keeps your readers guessing and maintains suspense.
• In dialogue or the protagonist's own thoughts, pose a rhetorical question or two (but not too many at once) to introduce or heighten suspense by hunting at the problems your protagonist faces or may face in the future.
• Deliver on the implied promises your use of each of these techniques creates in the minds of your readers.

In Part 2 of this series, we will examine how thriller movie posters use color to appeal to the interests of thriller movie audiences.

Black and dark colors, such as browns, may have symbolic significance that viewers and readers “read” on an a subconscious level, based on associations with such colors that are transmitted culturally, through the arts in general. Black, for example, is often linked to the unknown, to evil, and to death. Like dark colors, black also obscures vision, rendering characters “blind” and reducing them to helplessness. For these reasons, black and dark colors, in general, have taken on an ominous quality. When describing scenes, refer to black and dark colors to create a sense of menace or to obscure your protagonist's sense of sight, as the poster for Thriller (2018) does.

White and light or bright colors, such as yellow and orange, can illuminate darkness, for a few inches or feet, at least, allowing a character to see that which is obscured; at the same time, white or light colors can illuminate the protagonist's face, highlighting him or her, which, of course, can make the main character vulnerable, allowing the villain to locate or attack him or her, so such colors =can both benefit and endanger the main character.

Monochromatic color use can emphasize a protagonist while, at the same time, immersing him or her in the environment, since his or her surroundings are the of a hue that is lighter or darker than the hue in which the protagonist is shown. This technique is used with good effect in the poster for Gothika (2003).

Although this technique might not be used often in novels or other written forms of fiction, it can be the basis of a pertinent descriptive passage when it is warranted. For example, a girl in a green dress may awaken in a pasture, a boy dressed in blue may walk alongside a swimming pool the water in which is reflective of a blue sky, or a man or a woman in red may enter a red room. Usually, such scenes would be reserved for significant, stand-alone scenes or short stories. Edgar Allan Poe uses this technique to great effect in his masterful short story “The Masque of the Red Death” (1842).

The Regression (2016) poster combines the use of black and gray with the use of red. The latter color appears only in one place in the poster's image, in the form of a fiery inverted cross that burns along the junctures of a barn's hayloft doors. (The color also appears once in the text at the bottom of the poster, advising viewers that the picture will play in theaters in December.) An inverted cross represents evil, since it literally turns the Christian sign of Jesus's sacrificial death upside-down. (In occult lore, an inverted sign supposedly cancels out the power represented by the sign). The fact that the cross is afire also suggests its destruction, but this image may also imply the passion with which this destruction occurs—the passion, in other words, of the unseen foe.

On the literal level, the black and gray represent night; symbolically, they might also suggest evil. The judicious use of color can accomplish as much in a novel's description as it does in the imagery used in the Regression poster.

The poster for The Night Listener (2006) uses black, white, and blue to guide the viewer's eye downward and to the right. The left side of the poster shows a a line of dark trees in silhouette. The right side of the poster shows a large image of Ganriel Noone (Robin Williams) and Donna Logand (Toni Colletee) standing side by side. The treeline on the left and the couple on the right frame the white and blue colors which, together, form hazy light, perhaps the result of a full moon shining through fog.

The wedge-shaped light funnels the viewer's vision down and to the right, past Noone and Logand, to a much smaller image of Noone, standing alone in the middle of what looks like a forest trail or road. Bright white light appears at his sides and begind him. Although the source of the light is unseen, its placement seems to suggest that the illumination radiates from Noone himself. Deliberate placement of objects and color can create symbolic effects like the ones in this poster.

As we have seen, color, as it is used in movie posters, often has a symbolic significance. In the movie poster for the thriller Bardo Blues (2019), blue is the primary color. The face of the protagonist, Jack, a mentally ill young man (Stephen McClintik), is shown amid an inkblot formed by dark purple against a variety of blue tones that create a shimmering effect.

The title of the film, Bardo Blues, references depression (colloquially known as “the blues”), suggesting that the man depicted on the poster suffers from clinical is depression. The inkblot shape implies that he is mentally ill, since inkblots were once commonly used in the controversial Rorschach test designed to uncover thought disorder. The shimmering effect of the blue tones that form the poster's background suggest confusion or instability, complementing the inklblot shape's suggestion that the protagonist is in some way mentally unstable.

Colors are used in many other ways, for a variety of additional purposes. Study other posters' uses of color to discover how you can use color in your own writing to achieve similar effects as those that the posters employ.

A couple of caveats are in order, before this post concludes.

First, the posters are ads, not stories. As such, they are designed to sell the products, the films they promote, not to present a drama that enacts a well-plotted story. Therefore, posters often do not correspond to the dramas they promote or have only a slight correspondence to the films' plots.

 

The Internet Movie Database (IMDb) summary for Thriller reads: “A childhood prank comes back to haunt a clique of South Central Los Angeles teens when their victim returns home during their high-school Homecoming weekend.” The poster doesn't seem to have much to do with a “childhood prank,” with “a clique,” with “South Central Los Angeles teens,” or with a “high-school Homecoming weekend.”

IMDb summarizes Regression as involving the attempt by “a detective and a psychoanalyst [to] uncover evidence of a satanic cult while investigating a young woman's terrifying past.” The only indication of satanism as an element of the plot is the inverted fiery cross, and there is no hint of a police investiagtion, a psychoanalyst's involvement, or the young woman's “terrifying past.”

The poster for The Night Listener seems to have even less connection to the film it promotes. IMDb summarizes its plot: “In the midst of his crumbling relationship, a radio show host begins speaking to his biggest fan, a young boy, via the telephone. But when questions about the boy's identity come up, the host's life is thrown into chaos.” The poster shows no indication of the male figure's profession or “relationship,” does not refer to a “young boy,” and shows no “chaos.”

A more detailed summary of the movie's plot suggests that the poster is based on one scene, the pertinent sentence of which is, “Donna collapses in the middle of a road and tries to hold him [Noone] with her in the path of an oncoming truck.” Although the poster shows Noone in the road, a source of light behind him, Donna is not in the road with him; she is not hold him down, and there is not indication of a ruck, other than the light behind Noone, which is, apparently, produced by the truck's headlights.

Again, it must be remembered that the posters are intended to sell the movies, not to faithfully portray their plots or any details of the story (other than, perhaps, the appearance of the characters).

Second, as an integral part of a written work's story, description, wherein the visual techniques we are discussing—composition, imagery, color, symbolism—appear, must be a vital part of the narrative; it must be part of the story itself, not something that has no intrinsic significance. Description must be part of the product, not merely a sales pitch separate and largely unrelated to the action of the story.

How can a writer use the techniques that movie posters use to appeal to their audience's interests? We will take a look at some of these techniques in the last post of this series.

For now, let's sum up what we have learned about the techniques of color use:

• Color can convey symbolic meanings.
• Color can suggest emotional effects.
• Color can conceal, reveal, or highlight (or produce any combination of these effects).
• Color can emphasize a character's relationship to his or her environment while, at the same time, associating him or her with his or her surroundings.
• The study of other movie posters will show how color is used to accomplish a variety of other purposes and effects.
• In descriptions, color use must be an integral part of the story, not something used without narrative purpose.

There's more to learn from analyzing thriller movie posters. We'll do just that in a future Chillers and Thrillers post.

The Thrill of It All, Part 1

Copyright 2020 by Gary L. Pullman

Movie posters are ads, of course; they are designed to sell movie tickets. As such, writers can learn from these posters what their designers believe the movie's targeted audience is interested in. In other words, movie posters allow writers access to free audience analysis research (or, at the very least, expert speculation) on the part of industry insiders as to what prompts moviegoers to go to the sort of movies the posters promote.

Chillers and Thrillers has already analyzed several horror movie posters (and may do so again), but, in this post, we take a look at posters for movies that are sold as thrillers.

Although some thriller movie posters appeal to a few of the same elements as horror movies typically feature, thriller posters stress different focal points than many horror movie posters emphasize.

For example, thriller movie posters frequently highlight the protagonist and his or her dilemma. The size of the main character—often just his or her face (i. e., head)—is not to scale, to say the least: it is gigantic in comparison to the rest of the imagery; as such, the face stands out from the rest of the images. On the poster for Shutter Island, Teddy Daniels (Leonardo diCaprio) is represented by a gigantic face frowning out of the darkness; he is many times larger than the island facility shown below him, in a dark sea.

The protagonist is also emphasized over any other figures that are present (although, often, the main character is the only figure shown on the poster). On the poster for Law Abiding Citizen, the face of protagonist Nick Rice (Jamie Foxx) face is larger than the body of the villain, Clyde Alexander Shelton (Gerald Butler).

There is also a suggestion of menace; the threat or danger, however, is often unseen. It is suggested by the imagery, including the protagonist's facial expression; the colors; and the caption, if any.

The plight of the protagonist is indicated in various ways. First, he or she is frequently alone, which means that the main character is unaided. The protagonist must fend for him- or herself, must gather intelligence, must formulate a battle or an escape plan, must administer first aid to him- or herself, must fight alone.

The very fact that the menace, if shown at all, is usually a dark, shadowy figure, perhaps hooded, and frequently armed, also suggests the protagonist's predicament: he or she is up against an unknown foe. It is difficult enough to fight against an opponent whose strengths and weaknesses one knows; it is much more difficult to combat a totally unknown foe.

Not only is the face of Jessica Allain (Lisa Walker) shown as huge in comparison with the poster's other images, but the shadowy figure who menaces her also wears a hood and gloves.

Thriller posters deprive viewers of a context, rendering the protagonists' situation mysterious. We don't know how the main character got into the present situation, and we have no idea how he or she will get out of the dilemma. To sharpen the protagonist's quandary, the poster's caption might pose a question, as the poster for Law Abiding Citizen does: “How do you stop a killer who is already behind bars?”

A poster may pinpoint the relationship that brings the protagonist face to face with his or her adversary, as Cold Comes the Night does: “She found a fortune. He found a target.”

Let's wrap up this post by listing the design features we've seen on the posters we've discussed:

• Make sure that your protagonist stands out from other characters.
• For as long as possible, merely suggest the menace that your main character faces.
• For as long as possible, withhold context: do not explain the cause of the protagonist's dilemma until the end of the story; this ploy keeps your readers guessing and maintains suspense.
• In dialogue or the protagonist's own thoughts, pose a rhetorical question or two (but not too many at once) to introduce or heighten suspense by hunting at the problems your protagonist faces or may face in the future.
• Deliver on the implied promises your use of each of these techniques creates in the minds of your readers.

There are exceptions to these general techniques, but there is also a reason that these methods have are general. Designers have found them to be effective; they work. They are adept at enticing audiences to buy tickets. They sell the work they promote. As such, incorporating them into the action of the thriller that you are writing can keep readers reading your stories and coming back for more.

There's more to learn from analyzing thriller movie posters. We'll do just that in a future Chillers and Thrillers post.

Praise and Condemnation as Tools for Writers' Self-Appraisal

Copyright 2020 by Gary L. :Pullman

Rotten Tomatoes, a website devoted to reviews, both professional and amateur, is often the go-to site for people, both in and out of the entertainment industry, who want to see how their colleagues or their audiences view their television or cinematic productions.

Ida Lupino

The website provides percentages for the consensus of both professional reviewers and their amateur counterparts. For professional reviewers, the percentage of the consensus of professional opinion regarding the quality, or “freshness,” of a television series or movie is reflected by the “Tomatometer” reading, while the consensus of amateur opinion regarding the quality, or “freshness,” of a television series or movie is the “Audience Score.”

Jemmifer Kent

Of the female directors of horror movies listed in the Internet Movie Database (IMDb) website's Scary Good feature's “36 Horror Movies Directed by Women,” four score 92 percent or higher on Rotten Tomatoes's “Tomatometer,” percentages which would equate, on an academic scale, to an “A-,” an “A,” or an “A+”: typically, academic grade scales consider 90 percent through 92 percent an “A-,” 93 percent through 96 percent an “A,” and 97 percent through 100 percent an “A+.”

Ana Lily Amirpour

These films, by these directors, receive Tomatometer readings equivalent to a grade in the “A-” through “A+” range:

• The Hitch-Hiker (1953) (Ida Lupino): 100% A+
• The Babadook (2014) (Jennifer Kent): 98% A+
• A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (Ana Lily Amirpour): 96% A+
• Raw (2016) (Julia Ducournau): 92% A-

Julia Ducournau

Of the thirty-six directors, two earn a “B+”; one earns a “C-,” and one earns a “C”; three earned a “D-”; one earns a “D”; and two earn a “D+”; and 11 earn an “F.”

None of the movies directed by the remaining eleven female directors on the list has established a consensus of expert opinion.

Converting these results into percentages, we determine that, of the 25 female directors whose works have attained a consensus of professional opinion, 16% earn “A” grades, 8% earn “B” grades; 8% earn “C” grades, and a whopping 44% earn “F” grades.

All in all, with a few exceptions, these female directors do not earn many accolades from professional critics.

We need not wonder why; the critical opinion compiled by Rotten Tomatoes gives us answers in the form of quotations by the critics themselves. Concerning Lupino's flick, which earned 100% (“A+”), the critics cite such pluses as: “flawless pacing” (J. R. Jones, Chicago Reader), “first-class performances” (Geoff Andrew, Time Out), and “atmospheric direction” (Matt Brunson, Film Frenzy).

The lowest grade (12%) goes to Cindy Sherman, the director of Office Killer (1997). Manohla Dargis (L. A. Weekly) finds the film “insulting” at times and altogether “tedious.” Edward Guthmann (San Francisco Chronicle) sees it as a mishmash, due to the director's inability to decide whether she is filming a “slasher fest, social satire or revenge comedy.” For Stephen Holden of The New York Times, the movie lacks “electricity,” whatever that means. Greg Muskewitz (eFilmCritic.com) finds the film “trashy, stupid, schlock-y, and completely dull.” The motion picture lacks “terror . . . suspense . . . wit” and “humor,” Dale Winogura (Boxoffice Magazine) says.

Besides the “flawless pacing,” “first-class performances,” and “atmospheric direction” that Lupino's 1953 The HitchHiker offers its audience, what do the other “A”-grade films on the “36 Horror Movies Directed by Women” list provide for their viewers?

In The Babadook (2014), Jennifer Kent delivers an “intense and disturbing” picture “of maternal exhaustion” (M. Faust, The Public [Buffalo]); memorable villains (Charlotte O'Sullivan, London Evening Standard); a study of motherhood as potentially monstrous (Allison Willmore, BuzzFeed News), a blurring of “reality and terrifying fantasy” (John Semley, Globe and Mail); and “layers of rich meaning” and “two spectacular performances” (Ryan Syrek, The Reader [Omaha, Nebraska]).

For A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night (2014), Ana Lily Amirpour receives praise for breathing “new life in[to] the vampire genre” (M. Faust, The Public [Buffalo]); combining the genres of “horror, film noir, and westerns” (Kiva Reardon, Globe and Mail); creating an appropriately eerie “mood” (Alexa Dalby, Dog and Wolf); and being, in general, just plain “cool” (Peter Bradshaw, Guardian; Steven Rea, Philadelphia Inquirer).

Another “A”-lister, Julia Ducournau, merits the mark of excellence for Raw (2016) for revealing the true “dread” associated with affiliation, the loss of one's virginity, and “living up to family expectations” (Peter Howell, Toronto Star); for its memorable horror (Kate Muir, Times [United Kingdom]); for its revelation of the “darker side” of humanity (Anton Bitel, Little White Lies); for a grotesque, if “gorgeous” portrait of “fear and adolescence” (Josephine Livingstone, The New Republic); for its “visceral pleasures” (Ashlee Blackwell, Graveyard Shift Sisters); and for its sociological (Leslie Combemale, Cinema Siren) and psychological (Chris McCoy, Memphis Flyer) insights.

Now that the critics have had their say, aspiring writers know what they, at least, are looking for in a grade-”A” horror movie (as the critics themselves define it). By perusing the Rotten Tomatoes “Audience Score” for these movies (and others), writers can also gain insights into what ordinary moviegoers like and dislike concerning various films in the horror genre (or any other genre, for that matter).

Amazon's customers also let film directors and novelists know what they like (and don't like) in horror movies and novels. Check out their reviews, too, but, at the end of the day, take a writer's advice: “unto thine own self be true,”

The Horror of Abandonment

Copyright 202 by Gary L. Pullman 

 

Although the evil in Cujo takes the form of a rabid dog, this poster suggests the true evil of the movie based on Stephen King's novel: the adulterous affair that arises from neglect and represents an abandonment of the adulteress's husband and son; it is her unfaithfulness that tears her family apart.

A major theme of horror stories, in both film and in print, is abandonment. Often, such desertion is symbolically represented by an abandoned house or by empty rooms. It is also frequently suggested by images of crumbling stone castles or manor houses or by dilapidated houses or other symbols of neglect, including yards overrun with weeds, uncut grass, and overgrown sheds or other structures. In itself, isolation can also be representative of abandonment: a remote cabin in the woods, a castle atop a lone promontory, an expanse of empty beach, an uninhabited island, the middle of a desert, a narrow trail through a rain forest, an oil rig at sea.

The type of edifice or landscape can also imply what has been abandoned or what is at risk of abandonment: a church may suggest that religious faith has been abandoned; a hospital, the attempt to control or cure a rampant disease; a manor house, a family and its connection to the community of which it was once a vital part; a military barracks, war or peace (depending on the reason for abandonment); a strip mall, a dearth of customers.

In every case, the common element is change: something has occurred that has caused the clergy or the congregants, the medical staff or the patients, the family members, the troops, or the business owners or the customers to leave their beloved or customary place of worship, medical center, home, installation, or shopping center. The “something” is apt to be the story's villain, whatever form it takes.

Being abandoned is horrific because it results in the loss of social, psychological, commercial, medical, and other forms of support vital to the abandoned individual's or individuals' safety, health, and welfare. Being abandoned forces the abandoned to fend for themselves, even when they do not have the expertise to do so. In a highly technologically advanced society, no one can know all things or do all things. Assistance in many, not a few, endeavors is both essential and necessary. Most cannot diagnose and treat health complaints, especially horrific injuries or potentially fatal diseases; resist or defeat an army; or provide the products of the marketplace crucial to individual and communal survival.

We are, each and all, much more dependent than we might like to admit; we owe our continued happiness, safety, health, and welfare to others much more than we do to ourselves. That is the message of horror stories in which a villainous force or being lays waste to the infrastructure of religious, psychological, social, medical, commercial, and other means of support essential to human life. We like to think of ourselves as independent, as able to fend for ourselves, as self-sufficient and autonomous individuals.

Horror stories that rely on the theme of abandonment beg to differ; they take, as their implicit or explicit task, the teaching of the lessons of our mutual dependence, of our need for one another, of our need to rely on each other rather than to deceive ourselves with the erroneous belief that we are, each and all, self-reliant. The recognition of such a reality should promote humility and compassion and generosity. In horror stories, it is characters with these attributes who, generally speaking, survive, while the arrogant, the indifferent, and the parsimonious do not. In the midst of the coronavirus pandemic, these are wise, worthwhile lessons, to be sure.