Joe, Audience & Kathleen: At the film’s climax, the two emailers decide to meet in the park. This is the moment the audience has been waiting for—for the secret to finally be revealed. It happens in a wide shot (make note of that) as Joe slowly walks into frame from a distance. Now both characters know the secret we’ve known from the beginning (close call fully resolved), and we finally have closure.
As you watch You’ve Got Mail, you’ll notice that entire scenes are built around teasing the audience about whether that secret is going to come out. Those “that was close!” moments are very important for maintaining suspense and nudging our involvement higher.
Deep down we want the secret to get out, but we also know the consequences. The story continues to dance along the tightrope, teasing us, taunting us with the danger of falling off.
COMPLEXITY IN “NORTH BY NORTHWEST”
Let’s look at some layers of secrets in two beginning sequences of North by Northwest (1959). It has such complexity that is makes for compelling audience involvement.
THE ABDUCTION
While having dinner in a restaurant, Thornhill is abducted at gunpoint by a team of thugs and taken to a house, intoxicated, then released to drive in a stolen car. He is arrested for drunk driving and neither the police nor his mother believe his story.
Audience: We know Thornhill was abducted.
Thornhill: Knows he was abducted.
Police: Don’t believe he was abducted.
Mother: Doesn’t believe he was abducted.
Abductors: They hide the abduction from police and mother.
Thornhill attempts to prove himself to the police in the face of his lying abductors, creating high suspense.
KAPLAN’S HOTEL ROOM
In order to find out more information about his abductors, Thornhill and his mother sneak into a hotel room pretending to be George Kaplan.
Desk Clerk: Thinks Thornhill is Kaplan.
Audience: We know Thornhill isn’t Kaplan.
Thornhill: Knows he’s not Kaplan, pretends to be.
Mother: Knows he’s not Kaplan.
Bell Boy: Thinks he’s Kaplan.
Maid: Thinks he’s Kaplan.
Abductors: Think he’s Kaplan.
North by Northwest continues as the access to secrets changes with twists and surprises, fully engaging the Triad of Secrets to maximum effect. The audience is given a privileged secret that the CIA is controlling things behind the scenes, and that some of the supporting characters are working for them. In key moments, this is revealed to the protagonist, and later the antagonists. It’s only at the end of the film that everyone knows everything and the audience can rest.
BACK TO YOUR SCRIPT
Once you’ve planted your secrets, figured out which characters know about the secrets, and which secrets the audience knows about, it’s time to build those “that was close!” moments. Pitting the three arms of the triad against each other will heighten the suspense and keep the audience addicted to holding on for the outcome.
In the next chapter, we’ll help you construct those close-call moments.
SUGGESTED VIEWING
Watch these films and TV episodes mentioned in this chapter to learn more about planting secrets.
Leave It to Beaver, “The Boat Builders,” Season 2, Episode 16 (1959)
You’ve Got Mail (1998), Dir. Nora Ephron.
Alfred Hitchcock Presents, “Banquo’s Chair,” Season 4, Episode 29 (1959)
The Bourne Identity (2002), Dir. Doug Liman.
North by Northwest (1959)
FURTHER READING
Auiler, Dan 2001. Hitchcock’s Notebooks: An Authorized and Illustrated Look Inside the Creative Mind of Alfred Hitchcock, Harper Collins, New York.
Gottlieb, Sidney 2003. Alfred Hitchcock Interviews, University Press Mississippi, Jackson.
SUSPENSE MYTH NO. 2
MY VILLAIN MUST BE EVIL INCARNATE
Nope. According to Hitch, audiences can’t relate to professional criminals, serial killers and other extremes of uncomplicated, mindless evil. And if they can’t relate, they won’t feel suspense.
Allow your audience to have empathy with your villain. When your audience starts to care about the bad guy, they will feel the story on a deeper level. Hitchcock revolutionized this narrative boundary between good and evil, making both sides imperfect and vulnerable to making mistakes. Think of it as a football game—you might not like the opposing team, but you appreciate their skills, and would feel sorry for them if they lost.
A villain placed into your story only as a cardboard placeholder to give the hero something to fight against is not a suspenseful villain. Some of Hitchcock’s best villains are personable, funny and easygoing—remember Joseph Cotten in Shadow of a Doubt?—and we believe in the logic behind their goals. After all, as Hitch once said, the more successful the villain, the more successful the picture.
CHAPTER 3
SUSPENSE MODELS
IF YOU’VE FOLLOWED THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS, you’re now armed with your plot secrets and are ready to implement suspense in your movie. You’ve determined which people in the Triad of Secrets know about the secrets, and are ready to start pitting them against each other to let that secret out.
It’s time to build in some “that was close!” moments to tease the audience with the secrets. It all seems pretty clear up to this point. But the act of setting up these suspense scenarios can get a little tricky.
In this chapter I’ve outlined some prominent suspense models used by the Master, Alfred Hitchcock. Read through them and see if any of them might be a good match to your story.
If none of the suspense models outlined in this chapter seem similar to your script, it might be a daunting idea to try to incorporate one of them for suspense. Start simple. Because suspense works on basic instincts and universal moments of fear, it’s useful to go back to childhood and find elements that would be a part of the child’s world. These fears tend to be universal and are prime candidates for suspense setups.
Here’s a list of some childhood suspense moments. Notice how many of these are part of Hitchcock films?
Eavesdropping
Hiding in a secret spot and waiting to be found by someone, and holding back giggles when they get close
Afraid of parents or teachers catching you doing something wrong
Lying to parents/teachers when they do catch you
Being falsely accused of something you didn’t do and unable to convince anyone of your innocence
Being afraid to talk to a stranger
Getting lost in a store, unable to find parents
Anticipating a surprise party or gift
Now take a look at your script and see if there are any ways for your characters to do something similar to those moments listed. Can your protagonist eavesdrop on another character and find out information that could change everything? Should they keep that secret to themselves, but be tempted to let it out? Will they get caught eavesdropping?
Now take a look at the suspense models outlined below and see if you can weave any of those secrets into your story somehow. These models are all similar, in that they surround close-call scenarios. Some surround secrets that shouldn’t get out, but some are secrets that we want to get out but are held back. All are a form of dance between the parts of the Triad of Secrets. Suspense is raised by generating enjoyable frustration in the viewer and calling upon those rescue instincts.
Writing these can be a fun process and intimidating, too, because it can unravel the work you’ve already done writing your script. If you want suspense, this shake-up might be necessary to involve the audience in your storytelling experience.
Then, at the end of this chapter, we’ll show you how you can combine these into multiple layers of secrets by taking a look at Psycho (1960).
HERBERT SUSPENSE MODEL
The Herbert Suspense Model is by far the most basic
model for plotting out a suspense scenario. It starts with a secret that risks getting out, and a “close call” moment that keeps the audience squirming. The emphasis here is on the buildup to a future event.
1. Secret Plan: The filmmaker starts by revealing to the audience a secret plan that the protagonist intends to carry out.
2. Wait Nervously: The protagonist then goes through normal activities but must hide his anxiety about the secret plan. The victim of the plan should be around him, pushing his buttons, creating close calls.
3. Comic Delays: As the plan is about to be implemented, a series of trivial delays interrupts the protagonist. Even better if the victim is the cause of these delays. NOTE: The victim still has no idea the plan exists.
4. Almost Caught: The plan has been carried out, but it goes wrong. There’s one last scene that gives the audience an excruciating close-call moment.
The key to this suspense model is the comedy, which creates a fun balance between tension and laughs.
This suspense model is named after the character in Hitchcock’s TV episode “Back for Christmas” (1956), in which Herbert plans to murder his wife and bury her in the basement. Once he does it, some friends stop by unexpectedly while he’s still cleaning the crime scene.
Because you’ve made the protagonist nervous in the beginning, and then created some sympathy with comic delays, the audience is automatically on his side. You build the audience up so much that any threat of Herbert’s getting caught heightens the suspense.
SAM SUSPENSE MODEL
The Sam Suspense Model is similar to the Herbert model above, but with a slight change in emphasis. Rather than nervously building up to a future event, the event happens first, and the emphasis is on the cover-up.
1. Withhold Info: The filmmaker starts by withholding information from the audience to pique their interest. This is very short-lived but prepares them for the big reveal.
2. Hero Does Wrong: The protagonist does something which must be hidden from everyone. Since the audience now suddenly knows, we share the secret.
3. Long Cover-Up: The protagonist goes through a thoughtful process of covering up all evidence of what he’s done. This builds empathy in the audience. The more time we invest in his cover-up, the stronger the suspense will be later.
4. Almost Caught: This scenario gives the audience a series of “that was close!” moments. Something trivial becomes the focus of suspense rather than the actual secret.
The key to the Sam Suspense Model is choosing a trivial object of focus that acts as a surrogate for the real secret. Creating suspense around the real secret would be clichéd and expected. Don’t do that.
This suspense model is named after the character in Hitchcock’s TV episode “One More Mile to Go” (1957), in which Sam has hidden his wife’s body in the car trunk and goes for a drive. The focus on the long, detailed cover-up is what solidifies empathy in the audience. And, much like Marion’s theft and the policeman’s pursuit in Psycho (1960), it is a pesky motorcycle cop that obsesses over Sam’s broken taillight that generates suspense. The taillight becomes the focus rather than the missing wife.
The same scenario was used again in Hitchcock’s TV episode “Lamb to the Slaughter” (1958) in which Mary has killed her husband with a frozen leg of lamb. She then cooks the lamb for dinner and feeds it to investigating detectives. The detectives wonder why they can’t find the murder weapon. The leg of lamb becomes the focus of the suspense and Mary’s insistence on cooking it is great comedic counterbalance.
In both examples, the protagonist’s anxiety rises as the police get close to finding key evidence. But, because of their incompetence, or misplaced trust in the suspect, they miss what’s right in front of them.
The audience feels at any point the police may get smart and figure it all out. We hope they don’t, but would be equally amused if they did.
INVISIBLE DANGER MODEL
This is a type of suspense setup that builds a “that was close!” moment out of the entire film. It starts with a threat that is invisible and constant close-call moments to remind the audience of the danger at every turn.
Various hidden dangers that could use this suspense technique: a broken elevator that could fall, a live wire that could electrocute someone, a shark threatens beach-goers, or being trapped in a buried car that could cave in, like William Dickerson’s Detour (2013). (See Dickerson’s Q&A at the back of this book.)
1. Hidden Danger: The filmmaker starts by revealing to the audience a danger that can’t be seen. The danger is preventing the protagonist from escaping the situation.
2. Delayed Help: The protagonist waits nervously, hoping to be rescued, or to find a way around this danger before it strikes. Delays caused by incompetent rescuers help build tension.
3. Delicate Procedure: A complicated and delicate procedure must be carried out to render the danger neutral. As the plan is implemented, tension is built around the threat of a mistake being made that could trigger the danger to strike.
4. Twist or Reversal: The rescue plan has been carried out, but it turns out the danger was never really there. There’s one last scene that reveals a new danger, or a surprising return of the real threat.
The key to this suspense model is in “poking the tiger,” keeping the threat alive by provoking it often. This suspense technique was coined by screenwriter William C. Martell as a way of elongating the “that was close!” moment into a series of moments that can last through a whole movie.
Martell says, “Suspense is the anticipation of a known action, but the audience might forget about it over time. What you need to do is poke the tiger. Remind the audience that there’s that fear of being bitten.” And because the danger is off-screen, suspense is generated within the audience’s imagination.
Think Jaws. “We don’t know where that shark is,” says Martell. “It could be anyplace and attack anytime. That creates dread in the audience.”
This suspense model is used in Hitchcock’s TV episode “Poison” (1958), in which a man is trapped in his bed with a poisonous snake under the sheets. If he moves or makes a noise, the snake could bite him. This sets up suspense around a delicate procedure to sedate the snake without provoking it first.
INVISIBLE VICTIM MODEL
Often the scenario is reversed and the protagonist wants the secret out rather than hiding it, but they are being blocked. Suspense is generated surrounding the question: “Will they get the secret out?”
1. Victim Needs Help: The protagonist is trapped and needs help.
2. Victim Becomes Invisible: Something prevents the protagonist from communicating their need for help.
3. Incompetent Strangers: One or many strangers are in the position to realize help is needed, but they miss the chance due to being self-absorbed. Often this is exaggerated to comic effect.
In the Invisible Victim Model the protagonist’s secret is that he is trapped and needs to escape. He desperately wants the secret to get out so he can be rescued. This suspense setup is the opposite of the typical, where he would want a secret to remain hidden.
So when the second character comes along, this new character has a clear opportunity to discover the secret—that the first character needs to be rescued. The audience sees this as a perfect chance to change the outcome of the story. A close-call moment generates excitement in the audience—if the second person realizes the first needs to be rescued, the story would conclude in a positive way.
But the suspense director instead makes the second character oblivious or incompetent, unable to notice that the rescue is needed. It’s right there in front of his nose, the audience is anticipating, yet he still can’t see it. This frustrates the audience, because they are worked up to such a level of suspense that they feel like jumping into the movie to fix the problem themselves.
One important element of this suspense model is a lack of musical score. The audien
ce must be able to hear exactly what the protagonist and strangers can hear, as they anticipate any chance of the secret being cued via sound.
An example of this is found in Hitchcock’s first sound film, Blackmail (1929). When the character Alice is being attacked and raped by a stranger, she screams out for help. Hitchcock cuts to a shot of a policeman casually walking past on the sidewalk below. He happily strolls past without noticing the screams. This incompetence creates a high level of suspense in the audience, because they are rendered just as helpless and invisible as the victim.
For another example of this Invisible Victim Model, watch Hitchcock’s TV episode “Four O’Clock,” the pilot episode to the series Suspicion. A man is tied up in his basement next to a bomb that is set to explode at 4 p.m. He must get the attention of someone to save him, but he has been gagged and can’t seem to make enough noise to get his wife’s attention upstairs.
Hitchcock then teases the audience with two more chances of rescue as the clock ticks closer to four. First, the gas man shows up and knocks on the basement door. The door is locked so he gives up and walks away. Second, a kid chases a ball near the window and looks in. It takes him a long while to notice the man because he’s distracted by a roach walking past the window. Then, he finally sees the man and tells his mother.
At this height of suspense the audience is relieved that the man might be finally saved. Instead, the mother scolds the child for spying into the window and doesn’t ever get the message that the man needs to be rescued.
PARANOID CONSPIRACY MODEL
A fun way to get the audience worked up is the Paranoid Conspiracy Model of suspense. In this scenario, the viewer is lured into a wild story that can easily be disproven. Frustration surrounding the protagonist’s inability to prove the story is pitted against everyone else’s skepticism.
1. Conspiracy Launched: Something happens that causes the protagonist to launch into a conspiracy theory.
2. Skeptic Debunks: A second person doesn’t believe the conspiracy, which causes the protagonist to try harder to find proof.
Suspense With a Camera Page 5
