Suspense With a Camera

by Jeffrey Michael Bays

  UNPREDICTABLE CHARACTERS

  Another key element of tension is unpredictability. In designing a cast of characters for a suspense ride they must first break the cliché from assumed archetypes. They should be surprising in their moral philosophy and make unpredictable decisions. And of course they should be capable of making dumb mistakes in the heat of the moment. You want your audience to be hanging on to every moment in awe of what your characters are doing.

  Hitchcock’s TV episode “Wet Saturday” is a great study for this type of broad casting that edges into the absurd. The story revolves around a family having a playful discussion about how to hide a death caused by their daughter. The conversation is nonchalant, as if it’s no big deal. The teenage daughter has killed someone and the father doesn’t want it to get out and harm the family’s reputation. They treat the death as a fender bender—just a minor inconvenience that can be easily buffed out and forgotten. So these characters concoct a cover story, which hinges on the crazy daughter’s ability to keep quiet when the police arrive. But she has already been lurching around, wild-eyed, clearly not capable of staying calm. The resulting suspense revolves around this wacky daughter on the verge of being provoked into spilling the beans. Plus, an innocent friend arrives and gets roped into the conspiracy. Will he remain silent?

  “Wet Saturday” is full of threats with shotguns, wooden mallets, dragging a dead body around, and the kicker: they push the body down the storm drain in the garage. It’s a true comedy of the absurd, and at no point can anyone predict what these characters are capable of doing next. This setup is ripe for jaw-dropping suspense.

  Now that you’ve explored ways to sharpen the clarity of your film through tension and frustrated laughter, let’s turn back to a focus on objects that propel the visual story. In the next chapter we’ll explore various ways suspense objects can be used to increase suspense.

  SUGGESTED VIEWING

    Suspicion, “Four O’Clock,” Season 1, Episode 1 (1957)

    Alfred Hitchcock Presents, “Lamb to the Slaughter,” Season 3, Episode 28 (1958)

    Alfred Hitchcock Presents, “Wet Saturday,” Season 2, Episode 1 (1956)

  FURTHER READING

  Auiler, Dan 2001. Hitchcock’s Notebooks: An Authorized and Illustrated Look Inside the Creative Mind of Alfred Hitchcock, Harper Collins, New York—p. 102.

  Bays, Jeffrey 2014–17. Hitch20, web-series,YouTube.

  Cavett, Dick 1972. The Dick Cavett Show, ABC.

  Gottlieb, Sidney 2003. Alfred Hitchcock Interviews, University Press Mississippi, Jackson—p. 126.

  Wheldon, Huw 1964. “Huw Wheldon Meets Alfred Hitchcock,” Monitor, May 5, 1964.

       CHAPTER 15

      SUSPENSE OBJECTS

  STREAMLINING AND CLARITY help the audience fall easily into your film and get pulled along. Tension helps focus their attention. In an effort to simplify things, you should always think about how your complex intellectual and psychological ideas can be converted into a visual form, so that these important parts of your story are not just articulated in dialogue.

  As mentioned in chapter 13, a good rule of thumb is to pare down your story into simple objects, or suspense objects. Objects like keys, necklaces, scarves, phones, ties, handwritten notes, receipts, tickets, etc., become important parts of the story’s progression. They become physical evidence in the story’s world that hands can interact with and eyes can react to. Objects simplify the story parts into easily followed items that hold meaning.

  Suspense objects don’t readily reveal their significance to unsuspecting characters, and thus easily tie into your hidden secrets and close-call scenarios. Who cares about a mink coat unless it matters to a person with a specific hidden secret about the coat (“Mrs. Bixby and the Colonel’s Coat”). The criminals don’t realize what “R.O.T.” stands for on the matchbook in North by Northwest, but Eve does. We feel suspense, hoping that she notices and realizes that Thornhill is hiding in the house.

  Figure 15.1. Objects in “One More Mile to Go” become the means for telling a visual story. The protagonist has objects that hide his secret murder, and the antagonists use objects that create close calls to that secret getting exposed.

  Some of the objects are direct evidence in a crime, like the rope in Rope (1948), the scissors in Dial M for Murder (1954), or the lighter in Strangers on a Train (1951). These objects automatically hold power because their discovery can convict the protagonist and put an end to the story. (These are also MacGuffins. See chapter 16.)

  Other suspense objects may merely be peripheral distractions in a sequence that are either red herrings or excuses for a character to do something. The loose closet door in The Trouble With Harry (1955) is an example of this, purely a red herring. Rupert’s hat which he leaves behind in Rope (1948) causes him to return—an excuse to get him back into the apartment and continue the story.

  In my film Offing David (2008), the two criminals, Adam and Matt, don’t notice that the phone has fallen out of David’s pocket during the murder, leaving it free to be discovered at any point. I built in many close-call scenarios as people find the phone and get closer to realizing that it belongs to David—something that would inevitably lead to the discovery that he’s been killed.

  Dan Trachtenberg, director of 10 Cloverfield Lane, likens the use of suspense objects to a computer game. Puzzle or adventure games use objects as a way for the player to interact and advance the story. One object may be able to be combined with another, creating a new tool to be used on a character, or to escape, etc. Much of 10 Cloverfield Lane features Michelle collecting objects and building various means of escape. (See our full interview with Trachtenberg in chapter 22.)

  Let’s take a look at the objects in Hitchcock’s TV episode “One More Mile to Go” (1957). See the schematic in figure 15.1.

  First, the objects that relate to the protagonist are things that could give away the secret if they are revealed:

    Sack—holds the body

    Rope—ties around the sack to keep it secure

    Shovel—to dig a hole for the body

    Trunk key—hidden as an excuse not to open trunk when cop is around

    Bloody sleeve—must also be hidden from cop’s view

  Next, the objects that relate to the antagonist (policeman and gas station attendant). These objects generate close calls.

    Light bulb—must be fixed, reason for cop to pull him over

    Screwdriver—to fix the light bulb

    Crowbar—to pry open the trunk

    Money—reason for cop to pull him over again

  All of these objects provide visual icons that anchor the cinematic suspense. That is, suspense created through visuals on a movie screen relies on these objects because emphasizing them in close-ups is easily understood.

  EVOKING THE TRIVIAL

  As discussed in the previous chapter, comedy is an essential ingredient to make tension entertaining rather than annoying. Objects can be used to trivialize a traumatic situation and make it more comical. Hitchcock referred to this as “understatement.”

  By turning the focus of the tension away from the actual secret and toward a trivial object, it becomes much more entertaining (and therefore more gripping) for the audience. Essentially, it’s a way of breaking away from the expected scenario.

  Back to “One More Mile to Go.” Here’s the basic setup: A man has killed his wife and hidden the body in the trunk of his car. Now he’s driving down the highway and gets pulled over by a policeman. What’s the most obvious suspense question in this scene? Will the policeman find the body?

  As the filmmaker, how do you build tension throughout this sequence? You need to find a reason for the policeman to open the trunk and find the body. The most obvious way would be for the police to already know about the missing woman and to have a reason to suspect the man. As the policeman pulls him over, tension is generated around his nervous reactions trying to hid
e what the police already suspect.

  That’s too obvious for Hitchcock, though. Rather than building tension around the body and the police’s suspicions, he found it much more fun for the police to have no idea about the missing woman at all. He found a trivial object connected to the body only by circumstance. Hitchcock used the car’s faulty taillight as a proxy suspense object.

  A proxy suspense object is an object that stands in for something bigger. If you take a look at figure 15.1 you’ll notice that the light bulb is the central object between the protagonist and antagonist. It generates the on-screen tension instead of the body in the trunk.

  This light bulb creates a dance around the risk of getting caught. The policeman has pulled him over because of this burnt-out light and insists that the man immediately go to a gas station to replace it. The man resists and makes empty promises, until the cop pressures him to do so. They both drive to the gas station and the policeman waits as the gas station attendant replaces the light bulb.

  Tension builds as the attendant meticulously screws in the new bulb. Hitchcock draws out every detail of this procedure, as the policeman takes a drink from a water fountain and watches from afar. The man waits nervously. By building tension around the bulb, we allow the audience to anticipate a new suspense question: Will they be able to fix this light? The comic obsession about the bulb allows us to enjoy the tension, making light of the life and death seriousness of the situation.

  The “that was close!” scenario is still about whether the body will be discovered, but the light bulb is a way of drawing it out. Fixing the light relieves the close call.

  When the new light bulb doesn’t work either, Hitchcock then does everything possible to tease the audience about the cop’s ignorance. The cop sits on the trunk. He rocks the car up and down to jar the light bulb. We imagine the dead body bouncing around in the trunk. Then he has the brilliant idea that a wire in the trunk must be loose, so he insists on opening the trunk. Tension rises.

  The nervous man comes up with an excuse not to open the trunk. He pretends not to have the key. He detaches the trunk key (another suspense object, fig. 15.1) from his chain and hides it in his pocket. We see this in a close-up and then the man’s face. The cop then suggests using a crowbar (fig. 15.1) to pry open the trunk. The man refuses as it might cause damage—why damage a trunk over a little light bulb?

  The dance between the cop and nervous man continues, until finally the light comes on, saving the day. The man pays the attendant and drives away hurriedly. We think the “that was close!” moment is over.

  Soon the cop pulls him over again. Tension rises. The man left the gas station in such a hurry that he forgot to get his money in change after paying the attendant (fig. 15.1). This allows the audience to laugh and thus release tension. Once again, we think everything is resolved and the “that was close!” moment is over. Then the cop thinks about the light bulb again and walks back to check it. It’s out again!

  The key here is that the pivotal moment is not built around the obvious nervousness of the man, or his shifty answers. It’s not his inability to hide his guilty face that will let the secret out. Ironically, these things seem to have little effect on the outcome. Instead, it’s left up to the fate of this silly light bulb—the proxy suspense object—and whether it will force the policeman to open the trunk.

  LESS IS MORE

  Another aspect of Hitchcock’s use of understatement in “One More Mile to Go” is restricting the normal rules of a movie chase. Normally, chase sequences build tension through wild adventures through geographic space, fast cutting, and squealing tires. Hitchcock instead turns a chase into a leisurely, slow, everyday confrontation.

  This underplayed chase all happens within the confines of the law. The man doesn’t try to run away and doesn’t have to be chased. He has only broken a traffic regulation by driving at night with a broken tail-light. The policeman does his due diligence to be friendly and helpful in the situation.

  By confining the chase within this framework, it allows the tension to be wound up even tighter. Rather than driving wildly through geographic space, most of the tension is contained in moments when the two rivals are motionless. The act of driving is actually relief, each time the cop lets him go. Tension returns each time the cop pulls him over. Rather than using quick cuts and montage, tension is increased in other ways.

    Close-ups of man’s nervous face. We share his anxiety and knowledge of the secret. His reaction shots allow us to internalize his guilt.

    Close-ups of policeman’s curious face. This is a recurring hint that maybe he will finally catch on to the secret.

    Whip pans from one face to another emphasize awkwardness.

    Suspense objects: trunk key, light bulb, crowbar, screwdriver, body, money, bloody sleeve (fig. 15.1).

    Tracking shots into the objects add narrative power.

    Detailed procedure: replacing the light bulb in real time. The more detailed we get, and the more mistakes made, the more tense it becomes.

    Proxy suspense object: the light bulb. Will it be fixed?

  When finding ways to increase tension in your close-call scenarios, understatement is a great way to impose limitations and a sense of irony. When each character is tense about entirely different objects, the close-call moment becomes an entertaining dance.

  SUGGESTED VIEWING

    10 Cloverfield Lane (2016), Dir. Dan Trachtenberg—suspense objects become character tools similar to those in video games.

    Alfred Hitchcock Presents, “One More Mile to Go,” Season 2, Episode 28 (1957)

    Offing David (2008), Dir. Jeffrey Michael Bays—following a proxy suspense object.

  FURTHER READING

  Bays, Jeffrey 2014–17. Hitch20, web-series,YouTube.

  Truffaut, François 1986. Hitchcock / Truffaut with the collaboration of Helen G. Scott, Paladin, London.

       CHAPTER 16

      MACGUFFIN: THE SIDE EFFECT OF SUSPENSE

  FILMMAKERS AND FILM ENTHUSIASTS may be familiar with the concept of the MacGuffin. What many may not fully understood is the Mac-Guffin’s role in a suspense film, and why it even exists.

  There is much vagueness and misinterpretation about the definition of MacGuffin. While it is commonly described as a plot device that carries the story forward, I’ve realized that to Hitchcock it was even more profound than that. He must have realized early on that through his emphasis on visual storytelling, certain aspects of the plot could be minimized and even eliminated entirely without the audience caring.

  It’s a phenomenon unique to moving images. Film requires abbreviation in a way that is much different from other forms of storytelling. In plays and novels there are no close-ups, no reaction shots, and no visually constructed ideas. The ideas in plays and novels are constructed through words, and those words are much more vital to the story than they are in a film. Film is more like a daydream, where facts and words don’t really drive the audience like they do in those other forms.

  Because you’ve lured the audience to such a high degree of empathy for the characters through cinematic means (hands, feet, objects, personified camera, etc.), the reason behind their plight becomes less important for the viewer. Something bad is happening to them and it doesn’t matter what. The only use for the MacGuffin is to serve as a pivotal reason for the story to move forward.

  Think about it this way:

    Story is the vehicle.

    Characters are the passengers in the vehicle.

    MacGuffin is a new type of fuel that powers the vehicle.

  The passengers are sitting in the vehicle powered by MacGuffin. They turn on the ignition and the engine works. Nobody asks why. It just works. MacGuffin can be gasoline, steam, solar power—whatever—the car moves forward and the passengers are happy. When they find out what the fuel is, the response is a short, “oh, cool,” and then they move on.

  The MacGuffin makes cinema di
fferent from the stage. On stage, the audience member sits in one seat and sees the same perspective through the entire play. The plot here is everything. In a movie, you shift the camera around, you show the audience details and secrets; you tease them, trick them, and surprise them. You involve the audience so strongly in the visual world you’ve created that the plot becomes a formality. I liken it in that way to a video game.

  In other words, the MacGuffin is the side effect of doing everything that we’ve explored in this book. By building a story around hands, feet, objects, secrets, close calls, camera orchestration, and setting up an active game between director and audience, the very enjoyment of watching the film is not necessarily reliant on the story anymore.

  To sum it up simply: The MacGuffin is a plot device, or gimmick, upon which to hang the forward momentum in a film.

  It is usually an object, or an idea, or a piece of information.

    In a spy picture: the secret plans that the villains are after.

    In a murder mystery: the piece of evidence that will convict the suspect.

    In a psychological thriller: the trigger of anxiety.

  Take, for example, the MacGuffin in Torn Curtain (1966)—a complex physics formula. While Michael and Gustav care about it, and each side will wield government powers to hide it, the viewer could care less. All we care about is that Michael and his fiancée, Sarah, escape Germany unharmed. The reason they are escaping means very little to us. It’s just an excuse to build all these fun suspense scenarios.

  What about the color red in Marnie (1963)? Every time Marnie sees red, she freaks out. Red is part of her psychological dilemma, tied to a traumatic event in childhood where she saw lots of blood. OK, great. That’s not what the movie is about, though. The movie is really about her being blackmailed and getting out of a jail sentence. Whether she freaks out over red, or blue, or pink rabbits—all that matters is that she freaks out so Mark will try to “save” her.