ARCHETYPES
The collective unconscious differs from the Freudian model of the unconscious (which Jung labeled the “personal unconscious”), in that the material within it is not related to strictly personal memories and emotions. The collective unconscious is composed of universally shared associations and images called “archetypes.” The archetypes are “elemental ideas” – “primordial images” – significant unconscious figures to which all people can relate. For example, every human being has a mother. In some cultures, the universally resonant figure of a powerful, nurturing, and comforting mother figure is represented by the “Earth Goddess.” In other cultures she is the “Madonna.” In others she is “Mother Nature,” in others she is the embodiment of love and sex, and in others she symbolizes growth and fertility. Though she is called by a thousand different names and depicted in a thousand different forms, the elemental idea behind all of these different representations is the same – it is the archetype of the mother.
Though Freud was uncomfortable with the unscientific elements of Jung’s theory, the basic idea behind archetypes and the collective unconscious is not necessarily spiritual. Jung’s claim was simply that all human beings, regardless of their personal experiences, share common associations related to universal human issues. All people have mothers and fathers, all people face conflicts within their own personality, and all people face crises of identity as they develop and adjust into society. The archetypes expressed in legend, myth, literature, art, and film represent these universal issues, and the collective unconscious is merely the basic human “predisposition” to share and understand these archetypes on an unconscious level. Archetypes in film are character types and themes that transcend the actors and plots that portray them. The archetypes are representations of psychological issues and figures that are universally resonant. Though the physical appearance of the archetypes will change, the symbolism behind the archetypes has been the same for thousands of years, and will always remain the same.
THE HERO
The mythological hero is the primary symbol of the self. The hero is not just an archetype – it is the central archetype. The hero archetype is too broad to be narrowed down into one concept, because while all of the other archetypes represent different parts of the self, the hero is the self. It is all of the archetypes put together. As Joseph Campbell pointed out, the hero has “a thousand faces,” because the hero is the archetypal representation of the self, which is constantly changing. The message delivered by any particular hero will be determined by the journey which that particular hero undertakes. The different elements of the hero’s journey are covered in Chapters 10 and 11. The different elements of the self that the hero may represent – the archetypes of the self that the hero encounters – are the subjects of this chapter.
PERSONA
The outer faces that we show to the world, the part of ourselves that we let others see, is our “persona.” Referring to the masks that the ancient Greek actors wore, the persona is the mask of our personalities that we reveal to others. It is the costume covering the side of ourselves that we hide. On a physical level, actors themselves are personas. Their faces carry the stories and personalities of the heroes they portray on the screen.
Movie and television stars often complain about being “typecast.” When an actor’s persona or screen image becomes strongly associated with his identity as an actor, audiences and filmmakers become unwilling to see this actor in a different role. For example, it is difficult to imagine Arnold Schwarzenegger in the role of a sensitive, fragile type – just as it is difficult to imagine Dustin Hoffman in the role of a typical macho action hero. Schwarzenegger has become so closely associated with his role as “the Terminator,” that it was difficult for many people to accept him as the governor of California in 2003, referring to him instead as “the Governator.”
Though actors bristle under the creative restraints of typecasting, being typecast is actually a statement about the effectiveness of their performances. The typecast actor is so believable as the character he portrays, that he actually becomes that character type. In terms of the archetypal function of the film, the actor who becomes typecast is fulfilling his role as the persona. The performance is so perfect that the mask separating actor and character becomes transparent, and viewers cannot see that the two identities are separate.
STAR QUALITY
Supremely talented “character actors” such as Louis Calhern, Donald Crisp, George Sanders, and dozens of others are now relatively obscure. These actors were just as talented as their cohorts, John Wayne, Gary Cooper, and Cary Grant, but while the character actor has talent and range, the movie star has “star quality” – the physical presence which allows him to become the character type he plays in the mind of the audience.
Even the term “star” refers to an archetypal quality, a figure that is omnipresent, infinite, and universal. Star power never can be underestimated. In the eyes of the viewer, the star is not just a part of the movie – the star is the movie.
Alfred Hitchcock preferred to use big movie stars when casting lead roles in his films, because their personas were already well established. Hitch did not have to spend time in the 1st act developing his hero’s character. He’d just cast James Stewart in the lead role. Before the movie even begins, the audience knows that the character played by Jimmy Stewart will be a scrupulous hero who is independent though conventional, individualistic though conservative, and strong-minded though compassionate.
When writing the characters in your script, pay close attention to the physical descriptions you give them. As in life, first impressions are the strongest. Envision the face and body of your characters. It’s a good idea to spend some time brainstorming through famous movie stars until you come upon the one actor who best represents your internal image of each character. Even if you are writing a script for a low-budget film that could never cast a famous A-list actor, or even if the star who best represents your character is dead or retired, use that movie star as you are developing the script and building your characters’ personalities. By invoking the persona of a famous movie star, you establish your internal mental image of that character in the mind of the script reader.
SHADOW
Jung’s theories were heavily influenced by Eastern philosophies, which tend to espouse the importance of natural balances created by opposing forces. Jungian psychology embraces the psychology of opposites, an innate duality in which each part of the self is complemented by an opposing or conjoining part. The Yin and the Yang, the feminine and masculine, dark and light… every psychological power has its opposing force. In Jung’s model, the shadow is the opposing force to the persona. Just as our body casts a shadow on the ground in the light of day, our ego casts a shadow in the light of consciousness. The shadow is the repressed alter ego, the dim reflection of our unconscious selves. It is the dark side that is always with us but often unnoticed. The shadow is the hidden presence behind the mask of the persona.
SHADOW AS VILLAIN
As opposing archetypes, the villain is typically the shadow, while the hero is usually the persona. Classical heroes often have classical villains. In Shane, Shane (Alan Ladd) plays the part of the White Knight hero, and Wilson (Jack Palance) plays the part of the Black Knight villain. Masked villains such as Jason in the Friday the 13th films, Hannibal in Silence of the Lambs and Michael in the Halloween movies are literal depictions of Jung’s shadow archetype. The madman behind the mask depicts a universal fear – the propensity toward madness and violence in all human beings.
CONTRASTING DUALITY
The concept of duality is based on the hero/persona’s goals of encounter and integration. In the dream or myth, the persona must encounter the shadow and integrate him into his Self before the conflict can be resolved. It is often useful to contrast the hero and villain in a way that elicits a sense of Jungian duality. The two characters are as different as day and night, yet in some strange way, they seem to co
mplement each other. The contrasting hero-villain duality in Cape Fear (1962) is a perfect example. Sam Bowden (Gregory Peck) is moral, upright, kind, calm, and gentle. Max Cady (Robert Mitchum) is immoral, depraved, cruel, psychopathic, and violent. Pacifistic heroes like Sam must integrate some of the violent and passionate qualities of their shadows in order to defeat them.
THE MEEK HERO
The theme of the meek hero becoming violent is a ubiquitous theme in Westerns and other typically violent genres. The meek hero is pushed farther and farther by the violent villain until he finally must defend his honor, his family, and himself by evoking the violent side of his own nature. The persona’s integration of the violent nature of the shadow is represented in the climax of these plots, when the hero and villain duke it out in the big fight scene. Possibly the most resonant and disturbing rendition of this theme can be seen in Sam Peckinpah’s Straw Dogs, in which a meek professor and his wife are harassed by a band of toughs to the point where he must resort to extreme violence in order to live with himself as a man. At the end of Cape Fear, Sam becomes as violent, enraged, and vindictive as Max in his fight to save his family. And in slasher movies, the meek girl must become violent in order to slay the psycho killer.
In order for the theme of contrasting duality to work, the hero-persona must encounter and defeat the villain-shadow personally. If someone else defeats the villain, such as the police or another character, then the persona has not integrated his shadow, and the psychological conflict is not resolved.
SHADOW AS ALTER EGO
Villains can also symbolize the dark side of good characters. In Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, hero and villain are combined into one man, portraying the split in the unconscious between persona and shadow. Jekyll plays the role of the socially respectable persona, while Hyde embodies the villainous shadow. In Spider-man, Norman Osborn (Willem Dafoe) is a gentleman researcher and caring father, but his alter ego is the Green Goblin, a dark and violent figure who is the shadow to Norman’s persona. When the persona and shadow sides of one person are split into two separate identities, it depicts a clear psychotic split that adds an element of psychopathology to the character. Psychopathology, in turn, elicits an immediate fear response from audiences.
Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins) in Psycho was both himself (persona) and his evil mother (shadow). Dracula masquerades as a civilized human (persona), though behind his subterfuge he is a vampire (shadow). And serial killers such as Jack the Ripper walk the streets as regular people, though inside their minds they are evil psychopaths. Contrasting duality is an effective devise in these characters, as well. By making the persona gentle, compassionate, or dignified (i.e., a doctor, a count, or a meek motel clerk), the contrast with the sadistic, homicidal side of the character is even more striking. Extreme contrast results in extreme surprise, extreme suspense or extreme conflict – elements that all elicit fear responses in audiences.
DARK HEROES
Sometimes, the shadow is an element of the hero’s character. Heroes motivated by dark forces are conflicted. Their internal mixture of good traits and bad traits adds psychological complexity to their roles. Vigilante heroes such as Batman, Paul Kersey (Charles Bronson) in the Death Wish movies, Harry (Clint Eastwood) in the Dirty Harry movies, and Popeye Doyle (Gene Hackman) in The French Connection (1971) are all dark heroes – complex and conflicted combinations of good and evil. As crime fighters, they wear the persona of good men championing a righteous cause. But their methods (violence) and their motivations (vengeance) are the shadows behind their personas.
Outlaw Heroes such as Robin Hood, Zorro, and Jesse James also represent persona-shadow combinations. These types of heroes are very appealing to viewers, because they represent the psychological complexity and internal conflict that exist in real people. No one is completely good, and no one in completely evil. We are all just compromises between our personas and our shadows. The realistic hero is someone who is searching for an equilibrium between his two basic natures. This hero’s quest represents the universal quest for psychological balance. Regardless of the type of script you are writing, always keep in mind that your hero or main characters are searching for a sense of internal balance. Whether this balance is achieved by destroying a villain, overcoming an obstacle, winning a goal, or seducing a love interest, the symbolism behind the hero’s quest is to encounter and integrate a disconnected or conflicted part of the self.
SHADOWY PASTS
A character’s shadow also can be represented by a mysterious, tragic, traumatic, or disreputable past. Jake (Jack Nicholson) in Chinatown (1974) is haunted by memories of his days on the police force in the shadowy district of Chinatown. Elsa (Rita Hayworth) in The Lady from Shanghai (1947) is tortured by her shadowy history in Shanghai. In both movies, we never learn the details of what really happened in Chinatown or Shanghai, we are only given a few hazy references to the traumas in their distant pasts, mixed with wistful expressions and teary eyes. The fact that they do not want to talk about their shadowy pasts actually gives more weight to the tragic quality of their characters.
The trick to this screenwriting device is the use of restraint. The screenwriter does not tell us exactly what happened in the past, they leave it up to the viewer’s imagination. Since we can only imagine what happened, the extent of the shadiness, savagery, and degeneracy is limitless. Furthermore, the vagueness of this essential element of their backstory adds a quality of mystery to their character. In turn, this sense of mystery is often the central quality within the character.
If you add a shadowy past to your hero’s backstory, your hero should face his past at some point in the script – (otherwise, why was the shadowy past written in the first place?) Even though we never know what really happened to Jake when he was working in Chinatown, the movie resolves on a street in Chinatown. After the shocking and disturbing climax, Jake is disgusted by the world, but his disgust seems appropriate when his old police buddy tells him: “It’s just Chinatown, Jake… It’s just Chinatown.” Though the details of Jake’s backstory are never revealed, we get the sense that he encountered the symbol of his Chinatown shadow through his journey, which led him back to Chinatown in the end. This sense of integration is not achieved in The Lady from Shanghai. Not only is Elsa’s backstory never revealed, but the film never addresses the Shanghai symbolism again after the 1st act. While there is a brief return to a Chinese theater in the 3rd act, the climax of the film actually occurs in a carnival house of mirrors. This lack of integration leaves the viewer feeling incomplete and confused in the end, as the central symbol of the movie was not even remotely revealed.
RUNNING FROM THE SHADOW
Sometimes, the hero is trying to escape from his shadowy past. The hero who is running from his shadow must invariably face his shadow in order to become whole. Shane is running away from his ignominious past as a gunfighter. The symbol of Shane’s shadowy past as a gunfighter is perfectly depicted as an external figure in the character of Wilson, a psychopathic, homicidal gunfighter who is appropriately dressed in black. In Star Wars, Luke’s shadow is his father, the dark lord of the evil emperor. Darth Vader is a huge, fearsome, and incredibly resonant shadow presence. Through the course of Luke’s three separate journeys, the primary goal of Luke’s character is to encounter, overcome, and integrate the shadow of his destructive father. The Star Wars trilogy is an especially good example of the shadow archetype, because it drives home the point that the shadow is not really an evil villain, but a disconnected part of the self. Luke is at his most confused when he is denying his relationship to Darth Vader and not accepting the truth about his identity. The key to Luke’s development is understanding his identity and himself. Similarly, the key to the hero’s development in your script should be directly related to a deeper understanding and integration of the disconnected parts of his Self.
THE ETERNAL SHADOW
In Unforgiven (1992), Will’s shadow is his past as an outlaw gunslinger. Will (Glint Eastwood) ran aw
ay from his past and started a new life, but he faces the shadow of his old self again when he becomes a hired killer. Unforgiven is a particularly disturbing study of the shadow archetype. At the climax of Will’s story, he faces Little Bill (Gene Hackman), the sadistic sheriff who killed his friend. Bill and Will are mirror reflections of each other, both murderers, both guilty of grave sins, and both unforgiven for their lives of violence. They even share a common name. In a final act of violence, Will kills Bill in cold blood, encountering and integrating his own shadow, even as he becomes his shadow once again. The dark message of the film is that no matter how far we run, our shadows will always be right there behind us.
VISUAL REPRESENTATION OF THE SHADOW
The use of an actual character as a symbol of the hero’s shadow, either as a villain, rival, or evil ally, is particularly useful in film, since film is a visual medium. Conflict with an external figure can be displayed through action – which is obviously easier to see on the screen than internal conflict. Whether your characters face their shadows through internal conflict or external action, don’t make the mistake of assuming that one form of confrontation is more sophisticated than the other. The archetypal symbolism in Shane and Star Wars is sophisticated and powerful, and the visual symbolism makes it all the more resonant. Never underestimate the power of visual representation in your script. A picture is more powerful than a thousand words.
Psychology for Screenwriters Page 14
