Saturday, March 23, 2019

Plotting Board, Part 3

Copyright 2019 by Gary L. Pullman



In this post, I offer a few tips on plotting, many of which are implied, if not directly stated in Monsters of the Week: The Complete Critical Companion to the X-Files by Zach Handlen and Todd VanDerWerff.

The MOTW Formula Redux

In a previous post, we identified the Monster of the Week (MOTW) formula as one of the two basic plot generators The X-Files writers use. Handlen also fills us in on a variation of the MOTW formula. In this alternative approach, he explains, "A mysterious crime or phenomenon occurs; our heroes are assigned (or stumble upon) the case; they face increasing danger as they try to understand and defeat the threat before it's too late; and finally the crime that started it all is resolved (though there may be one last shot of the monster still lurkjing in wait for the next opportunity to strike)" (216).

Spinning the Past

One way to use historical events to plot stories is to put a "spin" on them that, presenting the actual events from a different perspective and in a different context than they are traditionally seen, makes these events seem fresh. The X-Files filtered "some of the awful actions the United States had taken during the Cold War through the prism of alien technology theories to give them a new spin." VanDerWerff points out (96). The series suggested that "alien/human hybrids" could have been engineered "by Nazi doctors who'd tested the capabilities of the human body in the Holocaust. A giant warehouse containing tissue samples and medical information from everyone who received a smallpox vaccination" is eminently possible, VanDerWerff contends, "assuming the federal authorities chose to collect such samples and data. Likewise, a UFO stored in a secret mountain facility is a possibility, as is the deployment of CIA operatives "to clean up a problem involving U. S. citizens" (98-99).

Narrative Transcendence

The X-Files frequently misses the mark, the authors of Monsters of the Week suggest (and often say outright), and one area in which they err is in not milking the sources from which some of the series' plots or story ideas arise. An example, Handler suggests, is the episode "The List," in which "a prisoner is executed but swears he'll come back from the dead to avenge himself on five people who have wronged him. Mulder and Scully . . . try to stop him. They fail" (104).


 Episodes like this fail, the writers claim, because they fail to transcend their origins by taking "advantage of a trope without digging into its origins or underlying mechanisms," says Handlen (105). Such a failure prevents writers from enriching their stories by infusing their narratives with the stories' historical, philosophical, theological, cultural, psychological, or scientific underpinnings, making a potentially powerful tale much weaker than it needs (or should) be. 

As examples of how a writer can enrich his or her fiction by adopting the author's suggestion, check out Joyce Carol Oates's takes on Edward Hopper's paintings in In Sunlight or in Shadow: Stories Inspired by the paintings of Edward Hopper and Alive in Shape and Color: 17 paintings by Great Artists and the Stories They Inspired, both anthologies edited by Lawrence  Block.

Teamwork

A team of writers (imagined or real) can bring a variety of "voices" (special interests, skills, styles, perceptions) to a story: "[Chris] Carter is there for the big picture stuff and any detour into mysticism. [Frank] Spotnitz will become Carter's right-hand man for the alien conpsiracy plot . . . [Howard] Gordon . . . will be the one most dedicated to crafting the . . . scary MOTW episodes . . . . [Vince] Gilligan . . . is capable of writing a tense monster tale or a goofy comedic episode" (VanDerWerff, 106). 
 
Questioning the Reader 

 A story or serfies should pose specific questions for the reader (or viewer). The questions should be related through the relationships of important  characters, by characters' participation in a common situation, or by some other appropriate means: According to VanDerWerff, "The three central questions of The X-Files--'What happened to Mulder's sister?' and 'What do the aliens want?' and 'What happened to Scully?'--were so personal and pressing to our characters that they always pushed harder for answers in mythology episodes than they might when investigating a stand-alone case" (113). 

NEXT: More of the same!


Friday, March 22, 2019

Plotting Board, Part 2

Copyright 2019 by Gary L. Pullman

In this post, I offer a few tips on plotting, many of which are implied, if not directly stated in Monsters of the Week: The Complete Critical Companion to the X-Files by Zach Handlen and Todd VanDerWerff.

The MOTW Formula

In our previous post, we mention The X-Files's use of the Monster of the Week (MOTW) as a plot generator to provide variety which would prevent the series from rehashing these series' mythological elements and becoming boring an “repetitive” as a result. But we didn't explain the formula the show's writers used. (There has to be some incentive to return for more posts, after all.) So here it is (the formula, not the incentive):


The MOTW episodes follow the same formula: “There's a monster; Mulder and Scully chase the monster; people die; the monster is caught or killed; and the status quo is restored . . . or is it?”

Innovative Investigation

https://www.amazon.com/s?i=stripbooks&rh=p_27%3AGary+L.+Pullman&s=relevancerank&text=Gary+L.+Pullman&ref=dp_byline_sr_book_1

An innovation in the investigation of a mystery is to have the detective solve it as a result of a shift in his or her thinking. This approach is as old as detective fiction, having been used, for example, both by Edgar Allan Poe and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle as well as such over-the-top police procedurals as Hawaii 5-O. (I use it myself in my historical murder mystery, Death in the Old Dominion, which is set in colonial Williamsburg).


The X-Files takes this approach in “The Erlenmyer Flask,” as VanDerWerff explains: “At every turn of the episode, Mulder and Scully are confronted with what seems to be a brick wall, until they twist their thinking in a new direction and discover the solution waiting just around the corner” (47).


Often, an intuition or the chance discovery of a clue or the understanding that a clue can be interpreted more than one way (as in Alfred Hitchcock's The Man Who Knew Too Much, in which what is assumed to be the name of a person is finally understood to refer to a building.) However, this turn of thought can also occur as the result of a deliberate review of the evidence (as in several of Doyle's short stories, including “The Adventure of the Speckled Band”).

Upsetting the Apple-Cart

In many television series, to keep things fresh, the last episode of a season upsets the apple-cart, as it were, by introducing several significant changes to the status quo. These changes can involve characters, the principal setting, the show's basic situation, or other elements, as “major changes” are made, some of which are “easily” reversible, while others “reverberate for years to come.” 

As VanDerWerff points out, at the end of The X-Files's first season, “the death of Deep Throat,” Mulder's revelation “that the X-Files has been closed down,” and Mulder's and Scully's being split up as they are “assigned to different divisions” certainly upset the apple-cart (47-48).


On Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the apple-cart is upset by Buffy's death at the end of season one, by Buffy's dispatching Angel's soul to hell and leaving Sunnydale at the end of season two, by Faith's escape after Buffy stabs her during a rooftop fight and by Buffy's graduation from high school at the end of season three.
Art Imitates Life
Another way to generate new directions in the plot of a novel is to imagine that the book is a television series in which actors portray the characters and that something unexpected happens to an actor, which requires a new, if temporary, change in the plot's routine. For example, as VanDerWerff recounts, during the filming season two of The X-Files, Gillian Anderson (Scully) became pregnant; as a consequence, Scully “had to recede from the narrative” (52). To accomplish this requirement, she is abducted.

Similar situations can occur in your own novel, if you imagine your characters are enacted by flesh-and-blood personnel rather than described in words on paper. Such an approach may open many possibilities that might not occur to a novelist otherwise.

MORE next post!



Thursday, March 21, 2019

Plotting Board

Copyright 2019 by Gary L. Pullman

In this post, I offer a few tips on plotting, many of which are implied, if not directly stated in Monsters of the Week: The Complete Critical Companion to the X-Files by Zach Handlen and Todd VanDerWerff. 


The Truth Is in Here

Characters' motives and goals make a simple story meaningful and significant. Make conduct personal to make it momentous.

Sitdrams Work, Too


Some of the subtitles the authors give to the reviews of X-Files episodes they discuss identify each of the episodes' respective situations; rather than being a situation comedy, or sitcom, The X-Files, it seems, is often something of a situational drama, or sitdram, as it were: “Pilot,” “In which Mulder meets Scully”; “Deep Throat:” “In which a massive conspiracy takes shape”; “Fire”: “In which Mulder faces an old flame”; “Young at Heart”: “In which Mulder has to track down an old foe”; “The Calusari”: “In which there are even more evil twins”; “Piper Maru”: “In which we meet some very strange oil”; and plenty of others.


The Connect-the-Dot Plot

Some X-Files episodes offer a series of images connected by their plots: “Pilot” shows disappearances, Handlen observes, “strange happenings in the woods, . . . little bumps on people's skin [and] . . . a weird, inhuman corpse in a coffin” (4). This connect-the-dots approach to plotting maintains mystery and suspense while providing unity and coherence by delaying the revelation or explanation of the cause of the strange events.

Balancing the Marvelous and the Uncanny

As Tzvetan Todorov points out, the fantastic exists only as long as it is not resolved as either natural (scientifically or rationally explainable) or as supernatural (scientifically or rationally inexplicable). In the former case, the apparently fantastic is uncanny; in the latter, it's marvelous.


Like most other fantastic fiction, The X-Files balances the marvelous and the uncanny, allowing a series of events to be explicable or not, depending upon one's perspective: For Mulder, science or reason can explain little, if any, of the bizarre incidents he observes, while, for Scully, almost everything she witnesses (including most of what Mulder sees) can be explained by science or reason.

For example, as Todd VanDerWerff explains, there is, in episode two of season one, “a spirited argument about whether the phenomenon the two [Mulder and Scully] observed has a paranormal or a scientific explanation” (11). The same is true, pretty much, throughout the series.

Plot Generators

The X-Files uses two plot generators to keep the action coming, episode after episode, week in and week out: “mythology” and the Monster of the Week (MOTW): “The first two episodes of the first season introduced some of the ideas that would power the mythology,” such as “alien abductions, UFO sightings, government conspiracies, and secrets,” while the MOTW provided variety, preventing the series from rehashing these elements and becoming boring an “repetitive” as a result.


As Handlen explains, “The genius of The X-Files as a premise lies in its infinite potential. Centering the show around a department of the FBI devoted exclusively to investigating strange or inexplicable cases means The X-Files can encompass any number of urban legends [and] can cross between science fiction, fantasy, and horror with ease” (11-12). (Later, to this list, the authors add “weird science” and “dramatic stories” of “the personal lives of Mulder and Scully” (14), the latter of which approach sometimes gives the series a soap opera-like character.

MORE next post!



Monday, March 18, 2019

Now available on Amazon

My latest novel, part thriller and part horror, Blue Mountain Detour, is now available, both in paperback and as an e-book on Amazon.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1090784392

Synopsis

Nathan Henderson, a Special Forces veteran with a horrific past, hopes a few weeks in Virginia's beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains will be just the tonic he and his family need. When they encounter a detour on the way to their remote cabin, however, a clan of sociopaths tests Nathan's fighting and survival skills. Can the former Green Beret protect his family from the double threat of the brutal mountaineers and their associates, a band of fearsome outlaw bikers?

Tuesday, March 12, 2019

Sources of Incongruity as Inspirations for Horror Plots

Copyright 2019 by Gary L. Pullman



I've written about movie misconceptions, bizarre explosions, Viking inventions and innovations, disciplined photojournalists, horrific acts that are legal in some countries, the first Christmas card, strange phenomena that have stumped experts, famous writers' accounts of public executions, strange and mysterious islands, Halloween pranks gone awry, an innovations coming soon to a mall near you, among many other topics.


My writing has been eclectic, to say the least, although most of my articles have been, like many of my novels and short stories, concerned with the bizarre, the grotesque, and the exceptional. In fact, the site for which I wrote most of my articles specifically requests such fare. To sell, I worked out an approach, listing sources of incongruity from which to draw ideas for such stories.


It's occurred to me that these same sources of incongruity can help writers of horror fiction develop premises for novels and short stories. Here, without further ado, is the list of my sources for incongruity, together with, by way of example, a few of the titles of the articles I derived from them.


Polarity Pendulum: going from one extreme to another: passengers who became pilots midair, lost and found objects, disasters that sparked new safety regulations. 


Prediction Regarding Everyday Life:  futuristic visions of everyday places


Recent Discovery: recently discovered animal species, recently discovered secret caches


Secrets: secret laboratories, secret caches



Incongruous Placement of Objects or Event Location: bodies at the bottoms of wells, objects found in porta potties, underwater rescues, creatures living in people's ears


Ridiculous + Sublime: elaborate gingerbread houses



Great Waste: government boodoggles


Unusal Purpose: objects made from human skulls, dioramas, dollhouses that aren't for play, items made from human corpses


Bizarre Role: bizarre positions in royal courts, stained-glass windows (with various unusual purposes)


Mysterious Phenomena: mystifying mountains, occultists, bizarre skeletons


Sophisticated Early Technology: early special effects, antique prostheses


Precursors: cabinets of curiosity (precursor to museums)


Misrepresentations: deliberate historical errors and misrepresentations, deliberate map errors, accidental map errors


Confusion of Categories: insect imposters


Irony: a hospital stay can make you sicker


Threats to Safety: snake invasions

By categorizing the types of incongruity, a writer can tap a number of sources, ensuring that his or her writing doesn't bog down with only one or two such sources, becoming predictable and less interesting than it could (and should) be. Simply select one of the above categories as your inspiration and develop a story along the lines the selected category suggests.



 

Friday, March 8, 2019

The "Twist" That Sells

Copyright 2019 by Gary L. Pullman


A selection of horror movies from several decades reveals the usual suspects among villains: a gang, zombies, mad serial killers, ghosts, demons, vampires, deranged cult members, supernatural curses, strange pathogens, aliens, and doppelgangers. In many cases, the posters advertising the films in which these menaces appear refer to the antagonists:
  • Poltergeist (1982): A family's home is haunted by a host of demonic ghosts.
  • Fright Night (1985): A teenager discovers that the newcomer in his neighborhood is a vampire, so he turns to an actor in a television horror show for help dealing with the undead.
  • Scream (1996): A year after the murder of her mother, a teenage girl is terrorized by a new killer, who targets the girl and her friends by using horror films as part of a deadly game.


  • The Grudge (2004): An American nurse living and working in Tokyo is exposed to a mysterious supernatural curse, one that locks a person in a powerful rage before claiming their life and spreading to another victim.
  • The Wicker Man (2006): A sheriff investigating the disappearance of a young girl from a small island discovers there's a larger mystery to solve among the island's secretive, neo-pagan community.
  • The Invasion (2007): As a Washington, D.C. psychiatrist unearths the origin of an alien epidemic, she also discovers her son might be the only way it can be stopped.
  • Day of the Dead (2008): When a small Colorado town is overrun by the flesh-hungry dead, a small group of survivors try to escape in a last ditch effort to stay alive.


  • Shutter (2008): A newly married couple discovers disturbing, ghostly images in photographs they develop after a tragic accident. Fearing the manifestations may be connected, they investigate and learn that some mysteries are better left unsolved.
  • Prom Night (2008): Donna's senior prom is supposed to be the best night of her life, though a sadistic killer from her past has different plans for her and her friends.
  • One Missed Call (2008): Several people start receiving voice-mails from their future selves—messages which include the date, time, and some of the details of their deaths.
  • The Last House on the Left (2009): After kidnapping and brutally assaulting two young women, a gang unknowingly finds refuge at a vacation home belonging to the parents of one of the victims: a mother and father who devise an increasingly gruesome series of revenge tactics.


  • Pandorum (2009): Two crew members of a spaceship wake up from hypersleep to discover that all their colleagues are missing. Despite this, it appears that they are not alone.
  • The Crazies (2010): After a strange and insecure plane crash, an unusual toxic virus enters a quaint farming town. A young couple are quarantined, but they fight for survival along with help from a couple of people.

     
  • Insidious (2010): A family looks to prevent evil spirits from trapping their comatose child in a realm called The Future.
  • Let Me In (2010): A bullied young boy befriends a young female vampire who lives in secrecy with her guardian.
  • Possession (2012): Five friends find an old bunker in the forest. There, they meet a demon that resumes to split them up. Possessed by the Demon attempting to split them up into five parts—making each of them to attempt to take possession of one friend—in order to play them off against each other.


  • Mama (2013): A young couple take in their two nieces only to suspect that a supernatural spirit named Mama has latched itself to their family.
To sell a movie, a writer must encapsulate the film's concept in a single sentence or two much like the summaries above (courtesy of IMDb). If the screenwriter's sales pitch (the presentation of his or her concept) fails, the movie won't be green lighted (approved for production). Although these summaries weren't written by the screenwriters who sold their scripts, they suggest their respective films' concept, or premise, well enough to provide grounds for speculations concerning the success of the films' various appeals to the producers who approved them:
  • Poltergeist: A family comes under attack.
  • Fright Night: Stranger danger!
  • Scream: Horror film tropes inspire a mad killer's killings.
  • The Grudge: The “ugly American” gets hers.


  • The Wicker Man: Paganism, thought long abandoned, is a live and well in the boonies.
  • The Invasion: The epidemic is caused by a pathogen from outer space.
  • Day of the Dead: The survival of the fittest tests who shall live—it's Darwinian evolution in progress before our eyes.
  • Shutter: Everyone loves a good mystery.


  • Prom Night: It's the second-most important night of a girl's life: what could go wrong?
  • One Missed Call: How often does one get to meet one's future self? Never—except for these characters.


  • The Last House on the Left: payback is a bitch.
  • The Crazies: A small town, by definition, is anyplace—yours and mine included (even if we live in a big city).
  • Insidious: A child at risk is a sure sell.


  • Let Me In: Not all vampires are bad, right?
  • Possession: When the chips are down, it's everyone for him- or herself, friendships be damned.
  • Mama: Taking in a child to raise as one's own is just another form of stranger danger.
So, what can we learn, concerning the theory and practice of horror fiction, in regard to this list: Like advertisements that appear to sell specific goods or services but actually promote other things (Jib Fowles lists fifteen of the basic needs advertisers routinely tap), horror movies often address themes other than fear itself.

The theme is the “twist” or “spin” that such movies place upon the horror they deliver, and it's this twist that sells a movie (or doesn't). In writing horror stories, whether for the page or the soundstage, writers should remember horror is a reaction to a threat against something the audience (like the characters in the story) hold near and dear: family, safety, community, health, self-esteem, justice, social acceptance.

Stories written with underlying themes such as these are apt to “sell” to agents, editors, producers, readers, and audiences alike, because they aren't just about fear and revulsion; they're about serious threats to the values we hold dear.


Sunday, March 3, 2019

Developing a Sense of Horror

Copyright 2019 by Gary L. Pullman


Yesterday, as I walked through the house, I imagined the defensive and offensive actions that various inanimate objects might take in response to environmental stimuli if the objects were imbued with personalities, intelligence, and will.



Sound crazy? Perhaps, but personification can be an important source of inspiration and a significant way of developing one's sense of horror.

Here are a few of the ideas I conceived:



Ceiling: offense = inaccessibility (it's a cathedral ceiling); defense = allowing parts of itself to fall upon intruders (or perhaps divesting itself of such "accessory items" as ceiling fans or light fixtures); alternatively, a ceiling (or a floor) can look deceptively solid, only to be insubstantial and, therefore, dangerous

Floor: offense = strength and solidarity of tiles; defense = allowing individual or sections of tiles to break and slide, making an intruder's footing precarious



Cabinet: offense: closed exterior (like that of a turtle's shell)--also, drawers can contain some pretty dangerous items; defense = hiding (the articles of a cabinet are "hidden" when the drawers are closed)

Toilet: offense = closed exterior; defense = elimination of threat by "swallowing" action (and, okay, yes, maybe odor). (By the way, toilets have been known to explode!) (You probably don't even want to consider the possibilities that Porta Potties present!)

Stove = offense = strength, weight (it's not easily moved), and durability; defense = destruction by fire (or gas)
 


Refrigerator/freezer: offense = strength, weight, and durability; defense = cold or freezing temperatures. (In the hands of master storyteller Stanley Kubrick, who directed The Shining, a freezer can help to disorient characters and viewers alike, adding to the sense of confusion and anxiety.)

Curtains: offense: able to sustain considerable damage without total destruction; defense = able to incapacitate by wrapping around an intruder and to kill by strangling him or her. (Curtains of various sorts have also been used in other ways in such movies as Psycho and Hide and Seek.)



Mirror: offense: as Lewis Caroll (and others) have taught us in Through the Looking-glass, mirrors can be gateways to other worlds, some of which are strange and terrifying, indeed; wardrobes can also be portals to other worlds, of course, as C. S. Lewis has demonstrated in The Chronicles of Narnia); defense: shattering into sharp-edged, pointed shards

Wallpaper: offense: it looks harmless (but appearances can be deceiving); defense = it can drive a person insane (Charlotte Perkins-Gilman demonstrates how, in "The Yellow Wallpaper")



By imagining the offensive and defensive capabilities of the everyday objects in a house, a writer can exercise his or her creative abilities; at the same, time, he or she might conceive of a few ideas (by adding a bit of exaggeration, for effect) for a haunted house story. The familiar, everyday world is the source of horror, as often or not, in this genre.



Wednesday, February 27, 2019

Now Available on Amazon: The Secret of the Silver Star!

My latest book, a young adult novel, The Secret of the Silver Star, which has a science fiction theme and contains elements of horror, but reads like a thriller, just went live on Amazon!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07NYFSZTB


Synopsis

After his dad abandons him, Cass refuses to listen to his mother. He hangs out with the wrong crowd. He begins to bully other kids. Finally, when he vandalizes his high school, the judge gives him a choice: confinement in a juvenile detention center or a camping trip with his mom's brother, Uncle Gabe, a highly decorated, no-nonsense Special Forces soldier. Alone in the great, deep wilderness, they encounter a threat that will change Cass forever--if he's man enough to survive.

Tuesday, February 26, 2019

From The Breakfast Club to Deadly Detention

Copyright 2019 by Gary L. Pullman


Have you ever wondered which of deviants and losers of The Breakfast Club (1985) would survive if a brutal killer were out to slay them?


Director Blair Hayes

Thanks to the horror-comedy mix presented in Deadly Detention (2017), we know director Blair Hayes's answer to the question.

In The Breakfast Club, Molly Ringwald plays pretty, but pampered, Claire Standish; her counterpart in Deadly Detention is Lexie (Alex Frnka), who's so sexy she doesn't even need a last name.

The Club's athlete, Andrew Clark (Emilio Estevez), undergoes a sex change, as it were, appearing as Jessica (Sarah Davenport) in Detention. 

Club's white dude Brian Johnson (Anthony Michael Hall) is replaced by Detentions's black, nerdy, Bible-toting Kevin (Coy Stewart). 

Club's space case Allison Reynolds (Ally Sheedy) is transformed into Detention's "freak show" Taylor Hunt (Jennifer Robyn Jacobs).

Juvenile delinquent John Bender (Judd Nelson), of Club, is retooled as Detention's Barrett Newman (Henry Zaga). 

Club's Assistant Principal Vernon (Paul Gleason) and janitor Carl Reed (John Kapelos) are combined into Detention's Principal Presley (Gillian Vigman).


Detention occurs in an allegedly haunted, abandoned prison. Soon after their arrival, things get bloody, as Ms. Presley succumbs to an attack by an unseen killer. Next, one by one, the detainees are picked off at the murderer's leisure, until only one chick, the proverbial "final girl" of slasher films, remains—wait for it!—the sassy, brassy beauty of the bunch, Lexie!


The others have been picked off in horrific ways by the murderer, a father who blames his victims for his daughter's suicide.

So, against a relentless serial killer, The Breakfast Club's Claire (and her Detention counterpart Lexie), it seems, would be the sole survivors of their respective films—except that Hayes is only playing with us; in the end, all the losers win; they all survive—thanks to Ms. Presley, who seems to have been really most sincerely dead, but was maybe just comatose for a while or resurrected somehow (?) and saved all the deviants' lives (we aren't shown how).

Deadly Detention is a fun, tongue-in-cheek horror-comedy flick, but the movie doesn't take itself seriously enough to be a really, most sincerely good movie. Somewhere between the losers' arrival at the prison and their mysterious—indeed, miraculous—survival, the screenwriters, Alison Spuck McNeeley and Casey Tabanou, become too lazy to connect the dots, and Hayes films the result, disconnects and all.

Sunday, February 24, 2019

From 13 to 14 Cameras

Copyright 2019 by Gary L. Pullman


13 Cameras (2015) is about a mad, creepy, voyeuristic landlord, Gerald, who, as the movie's title suggests, installs 13 hidden cameras in the house he rents to pregnant Claire and her husband Ryan. The latter has had an affair with his assistant; although he tries to break off the extramarital relationship, his mistress, feeling spurned, harasses and stalks him, even coming to his home when Claire is present.


Perhaps the director meant to arouse doubts, before the true culprit is identified, as to who's behind the odd, sometimes alarming incidents that occur in the house. (Yes, Gerald's the bad guy.) At the end of the film, he abducts Claire.


Although critical reviews were mixed, overall, 13 Cameras received mostly positive notices. It did well enough at the box office, in fact, for it to merit a sequel, 14 Cameras (2018). Film Threat's Nick Rocco Scalia finds the sequel's pacing slower and the movie less suspenseful than they might have been, and he thinks that actor Neville Archambault (Gerald) is “forced to spend far too much of his screen time either stumbling around and grunting incoherently or staring slack-jawed into monitors or camera lenses.” Scalia also expresses his disappointment in the screenplay, which, he says, “fails to develop any memorable or sympathetic characters for the audience to root for.”


A review posted on Heaven of Horror by Karina Adelgaard, on the other hand, thinks 14 Cameras provides an intriguing spin on the original movie by having Gerald pose as a beautiful young woman who rents vacation homes (fully equipped with hidden spy cameras) and operating a subscription streaming video service showing the daily activities of his renters. “To me, 14 Cameras has managed to update the story perfectly with this new angle,” she writes.

Personally, I agree with Scalia that Gerald's “stumbling around and grunting incoherently or staring slack-jawed into monitors or camera lenses” gets old fairly quickly; in fact, I found myself smiling at the slack jaw, which makes him resemble a fish more than a maniac and is, for me, at least, unintentionally humorous. While it's true that the movie also lacks a bit of suspense at times, I also agree with Adelgaard that the new wrinkles concerning the multiple vacation homes and the addition of more characters makes the sequel its own picture, rather than just another installment in the fledgling franchise. I also found the long-suffering and witty, but slightly goofy, dad likable (“We're home!” he calls as he and his wife and son enter the vacation rental, warning his daughter and her girlfriend to “hide the booze.”) I also rooted for Gerald's freed captives and their liberator to escape Gerald's pursuit.

Would I watch 15 Cameras? Hopefully, it will be coming to a theater near me soon (or to Netflix).




Paranormal vs. Supernatural: What’s the Diff?

Copyright 2009 by Gary L. Pullman

Sometimes, in demonstrating how to brainstorm about an essay topic, selecting horror movies, I ask students to name the titles of as many such movies as spring to mind (seldom a difficult feat for them, as the genre remains quite popular among young adults). Then, I ask them to identify the monster, or threat--the antagonist, to use the proper terminology--that appears in each of the films they have named. Again, this is usually a quick and easy task. Finally, I ask them to group the films’ adversaries into one of three possible categories: natural, paranormal, or supernatural. This is where the fun begins.

It’s a simple enough matter, usually, to identify the threats which fall under the “natural” label, especially after I supply my students with the scientific definition of “nature”: everything that exists as either matter or energy (which are, of course, the same thing, in different forms--in other words, the universe itself. The supernatural is anything which falls outside, or is beyond, the universe: God, angels, demons, and the like, if they exist. Mad scientists, mutant cannibals (and just plain cannibals), serial killers, and such are examples of natural threats. So far, so simple.

What about borderline creatures, though? Are vampires, werewolves, and zombies, for example, natural or supernatural? And what about Freddy Krueger? In fact, what does the word “paranormal” mean, anyway? If the universe is nature and anything outside or beyond the universe is supernatural, where does the paranormal fit into the scheme of things?

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the word “paranormal,” formed of the prefix “para,” meaning alongside, and “normal,” meaning “conforming to common standards, usual,” was coined in 1920. The American Heritage Dictionary defines “paranormal” to mean “beyond the range of normal experience or scientific explanation.” In other words, the paranormal is not supernatural--it is not outside or beyond the universe; it is natural, but, at the present, at least, inexplicable, which is to say that science cannot yet explain its nature. The same dictionary offers, as examples of paranormal phenomena, telepathy and “a medium’s paranormal powers.”

Wikipedia offers a few other examples of such phenomena or of paranormal sciences, including the percentages of the American population which, according to a Gallup poll, believes in each phenomenon, shown here in parentheses: psychic or spiritual healing (54), extrasensory perception (ESP) (50), ghosts (42), demons (41), extraterrestrials (33), clairvoyance and prophecy (32), communication with the dead (28), astrology (28), witchcraft (26), reincarnation (25), and channeling (15); 36 percent believe in telepathy.

As can be seen from this list, which includes demons, ghosts, and witches along with psychics and extraterrestrials, there is a confusion as to which phenomena and which individuals belong to the paranormal and which belong to the supernatural categories. This confusion, I believe, results from the scientism of our age, which makes it fashionable for people who fancy themselves intelligent and educated to dismiss whatever cannot be explained scientifically or, if such phenomena cannot be entirely rejected, to classify them as as-yet inexplicable natural phenomena. That way, the existence of a supernatural realm need not be admitted or even entertained. Scientists tend to be materialists, believing that the real consists only of the twofold unity of matter and energy, not dualists who believe that there is both the material (matter and energy) and the spiritual, or supernatural. If so, everything that was once regarded as having been supernatural will be regarded (if it cannot be dismissed) as paranormal and, maybe, if and when it is explained by science, as natural. Indeed, Sigmund Freud sought to explain even God as but a natural--and in Freud’s opinion, an obsolete--phenomenon.

Meanwhile, among skeptics, there is an ongoing campaign to eliminate the paranormal by explaining them as products of ignorance, misunderstanding, or deceit. Ridicule is also a tactic that skeptics sometimes employ in this campaign. For example, The Skeptics’ Dictionary contends that the perception of some “events” as being of a paranormal nature may be attributed to “ignorance or magical thinking.” The dictionary is equally suspicious of each individual phenomenon or “paranormal science” as well. Concerning psychics’ alleged ability to discern future events, for example, The Skeptic’s Dictionary quotes Jay Leno (“How come you never see a headline like 'Psychic Wins Lottery'?”), following with a number of similar observations:

Psychics don't rely on psychics to warn them of impending disasters. Psychics don't predict their own deaths or diseases. They go to the dentist like the rest of us. They're as surprised and disturbed as the rest of us when they have to call a plumber or an electrician to fix some defect at home. Their planes are delayed without their being able to anticipate the delays. If they want to know something about Abraham Lincoln, they go to the library; they don't try to talk to Abe's spirit. In short, psychics live by the known laws of nature except when they are playing the psychic game with people.
In An Encyclopedia of Claims, Frauds, and Hoaxes of the Occult and Supernatural, James Randi, a magician who exercises a skeptical attitude toward all things alleged to be paranormal or supernatural, takes issue with the notion of such phenomena as well, often employing the same arguments and rhetorical strategies as The Skeptic’s Dictionary.

In short, the difference between the paranormal and the supernatural lies in whether one is a materialist, believing in only the existence of matter and energy, or a dualist, believing in the existence of both matter and energy and spirit. If one maintains a belief in the reality of the spiritual, he or she will classify such entities as angels, demons, ghosts, gods, vampires, and other threats of a spiritual nature as supernatural, rather than paranormal, phenomena. He or she may also include witches (because, although they are human, they are empowered by the devil, who is himself a supernatural entity) and other natural threats that are energized, so to speak, by a power that transcends nature and is, as such, outside or beyond the universe. Otherwise, one is likely to reject the supernatural as a category altogether, identifying every inexplicable phenomenon as paranormal, whether it is dark matter or a teenage werewolf. Indeed, some scientists dedicate at least part of their time to debunking allegedly paranormal phenomena, explaining what natural conditions or processes may explain them, as the author of The Serpent and the Rainbow explains the creation of zombies by voodoo priests.

Based upon my recent reading of Tzvetan Todorov's The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to the Fantastic, I add the following addendum to this essay.

According to Todorov:

The fantastic. . . lasts only as long as a certain hesitation [in deciding] whether or not what they [the reader and the protagonist] perceive derives from "reality" as it exists in the common opinion. . . . If he [the reader] decides that the laws of reality remain intact and permit an explanation of the phenomena described, we can say that the work belongs to the another genre [than the fantastic]: the uncanny. If, on the contrary, he decides that new laws of nature must be entertained to account for the phenomena, we enter the genre of the marvelous (The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to a Literary Genre, 41).
Todorov further differentiates these two categories by characterizing the uncanny as “the supernatural explained” and the marvelous as “the supernatural accepted” (41-42).

Interestingly, the prejudice against even the possibility of the supernatural’s existence which is implicit in the designation of natural versus paranormal phenomena, which excludes any consideration of the supernatural, suggests that there are no marvelous phenomena; instead, there can be only the uncanny. Consequently, for those who subscribe to this view, the fantastic itself no longer exists in this scheme, for the fantastic depends, as Todorov points out, upon the tension of indecision concerning to which category an incident belongs, the natural or the supernatural. The paranormal is understood, by those who posit it, in lieu of the supernatural, as the natural as yet unexplained.

And now, back to a fate worse than death: grading students’ papers.

My Cup of Blood

Anyone who becomes an aficionado of anything tends, eventually, to develop criteria for elements or features of the person, place, or thing of whom or which he or she has become enamored. Horror fiction--admittedly not everyone’s cuppa blood--is no different (okay, maybe it’s a little different): it, too, appeals to different fans, each for reasons of his or her own. Of course, in general, book reviews, the flyleaves of novels, and movie trailers suggest what many, maybe even most, readers of a particular type of fiction enjoy, but, right here, right now, I’m talking more specifically--one might say, even more eccentrically. In other words, I’m talking what I happen to like, without assuming (assuming makes an “ass” of “u” and “me”) that you also like the same. It’s entirely possible that you will; on the other hand, it’s entirely likely that you won’t.

Anyway, this is what I happen to like in horror fiction:

Small-town settings in which I get to know the townspeople, both the good, the bad, and the ugly. For this reason alone, I’m a sucker for most of Stephen King’s novels. Most of them, from 'Salem's Lot to Under the Dome, are set in small towns that are peopled by the good, the bad, and the ugly. Part of the appeal here, granted, is the sense of community that such settings entail.

Isolated settings, such as caves, desert wastelands, islands, mountaintops, space, swamps, where characters are cut off from civilization and culture and must survive and thrive or die on their own, without assistance, by their wits and other personal resources. Many are the examples of such novels and screenplays, but Alien, The Shining, The Descent, Desperation, and The Island of Dr. Moreau, are some of the ones that come readily to mind.

Total institutions as settings. Camps, hospitals, military installations, nursing homes, prisons, resorts, spaceships, and other worlds unto themselves are examples of such settings, and Sleepaway Camp, Coma, The Green Mile, and Aliens are some of the novels or films that take place in such settings.

Anecdotal scenes--in other words, short scenes that showcase a character--usually, an unusual, even eccentric, character. Both Dean Koontz and the dynamic duo, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, excel at this, so I keep reading their series (although Koontz’s canine companions frequently--indeed, almost always--annoy, as does his relentless optimism).

Atmosphere, mood, and tone. Here, King is king, but so is Bentley Little. In the use of description to terrorize and horrify, both are masters of the craft.

Believable characters. Stephen King, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, and Dan Simmons are great at creating characters that stick to readers’ ribs.

Innovation. Bram Stoker demonstrates it, especially in his short story “Dracula’s Guest,” as does H. P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, Shirley Jackson, and a host of other, mostly classical, horror novelists and short story writers. For an example, check out my post on Stoker’s story, which is a real stoker, to be sure. Stephen King shows innovation, too, in ‘Salem’s Lot, The Shining, It, and other novels. One might even argue that Dean Koontz’s something-for-everyone, cross-genre writing is innovative; he seems to have been one of the first, if not the first, to pen such tales.

Technique. Check out Frank Peretti’s use of maps and his allusions to the senses in Monster; my post on this very topic is worth a look, if I do say so myself, which, of course, I do. Opening chapters that accomplish a multitude of narrative purposes (not usually all at once, but successively) are attractive, too, and Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child are as good as anyone, and better than many, at this art.

A connective universe--a mythos, if you will, such as both H. P. Lovecraft and Stephen King, and, to a lesser extent, Dean Koontz, Bentley Little, and even Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child have created through the use of recurring settings, characters, themes, and other elements of fiction.

A lack of pretentiousness. Dean Koontz has it, as do Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, Bentley Little, and (to some extent, although he has become condescending and self-indulgent of late, Stephen King); unfortunately, both Dan Simmons and Robert McCammon have become too self-important in their later works, Simmons almost to the point of becoming unreadable. Come on, people, you’re writing about monsters--you should be humble.

Longevity. Writers who have been around for a while usually get better, Stephen King, Dan Simmons, and Robert McCammon excepted.

Pacing. Neither too fast nor too slow. Dean Koontz is good, maybe the best, here, of contemporary horror writers.