Modern audiences are getting harder and harder to please. You can’t really blame them for it though – the same tired trends and themes are regurgitated repeatedly as marketing executives pray for a miracle (cough cough Disney live-actions). Having seen just about everything that uninspired marketers can think up, audiences are itching for a good surprise. However, instead of treating surprises as a marketer would, what if we framed our minds like a screenwriter? From reversals and revelations to red herrings and shock factor, screenwriters have many ways to work with surprises!
The unexpected?
One of the best ways to throw audiences off balance is to be unpredictable… but do note that cheap surprises (like horror films abusing jump scares) get stale real quick. Instead of many low-quality surprises, build up a good twist that’ll blow your audiences’ minds – like in the films The Sixth Sense or Se7en.
When working with the unexpected, it’s important to discern between an unexpected obstacle versus a complication. Despite being similar, they have different effects, explains Karl Iglesias (author of Writing for Emotional Impact: Advanced Dramatic Techniques to Attract, Engage and Fascinate the Reader from Beginning to End).
“On one side is the obstacle, which is something that stands in the way of achieving a goal. It can be anything – a person, an object, or event that blocks the way,” writes Iglesias. “The key is that it causes a character extra thought, effort, and time to overcome it. Once the obstacle is surmounted, the character is back on track.”
On the other hand, complications require you to take a series of different actions to overcome.
· Obstacle: Your flight to New York got cancelled, forcing you to book another flight
· Complication: Your flight to New York has zombies on it, causing a crash landing and you having to trek through the wilderness until you find a car to drive to New York
“This is why complications are called ‘plot twists’. They deviate a character from a previously expected path,” comments Iglesias. But if zombies suddenly just showed up on the plane, it’d probably cause more confusion than anything – emphasis on the word suddenly, because it takes little to no effort for something to suddenly happen. This is why we need logical build ups that hint at it: a news broadcast at the flight lounge discussing surges in violent behavior, a guy at the terminal falling ill as the protagonist boards the flight etc.
Discoveries and revelations
A grand realisation can make for a powerful scene. For example, in The Sixth Sense (spoiler alert!), when it’s revealed that Malcolm Crowe was a ghost all along. On the opposite side of the coin, a grand reveal does very little to surprise audiences when the story is weak. In Prometheus, when the humanoid alien engineer turned out to be hostile and attacked our “heroes”, we feel little attachment to them because the crew members of the Prometheus are so incredibly dumb.
Again, this highlights the importance of proper build up, but we should first understand the subtle differences between a discovery and a revelation.
“For discussion purposes, a discovery is an active process, meaning that it’s the hero who finds the information, whereas a revelation is revealed to the hero – a passive process where the hero learns the information from another source,” points out Iglesias.
Think of discoveries as eureka moments where a detective connects all the clues, and revelations as a Bond villain unveiling their plan for world domination. However, we must also consider a storytelling element known as the reader superior position – or when audiences know something that the character does not yet. For example, we might see the Bond villain discussing their plan with their henchmen, but because James Bond isn’t physically there, he doesn’t know about the plot yet – which makes us, the audience, have an edge over the hero. Not that this is a bad thing, but sometimes keeping audiences in the dark can and will help make the big reveal even more impactful… as in the case of reader inferior positions, where characters know more about what will happen than the audience. Heist films like Ocean’s Eleven (and sequels) are a good example of this.
“You have to control when, how often, and how much information you give the reader,” explains Iglesias. “The best way to do so is to leave events offscreen, which makes their discovery emotionally satisfying.” He points to The Sixth Sense – by hiding Malcolm’s death (which happens at the beginning of the movie), we get tricked into thinking he survived the attack. And because we practically only see Malcolm interact with Haley Osment (the kid who can see and talk with the dead), we never even considered Malcolm was dead until the reveal.
Uno reversals and shock value
Have you ever cheered when the protagonist swings from an impossible disadvantage to the upper hand? Reversals can come in many types and forms, although major swings are the most impactful (plot-wise anyway), reversals can also be fun and quick: like when Indiana Jones faced off against the swordsman in Raiders of the Lost Ark – the ring of bystanders suggested a sword duel, but Indy pulling out his pistol and shooting the poor sod was quite the brilliant reversal.
This is because reversals are best when we don’t see it coming.
“This is the key to surprise: if the reader expects one thing to happen, make sure it doesn’t always happen that way,” writes Iglesias.
What about shock value? Shocking your audience with the unexpected is a great way to elevate a moment from memorable to iconic, like in Alien when the chestburster makes its first appearance. Although it’s most predominant in horror and thriller genres, shock can be used effectively across all manners of content – think Neo awakening from his pod in the post-apocalyptic Matrix, the protagonist dying in the first act of Psycho, or bandits Harry and Marv getting punished with Kevin McCallister’s homebrew traps in Home Alone.
That said, you should refrain from cramming in every shock that comes to mind… overstimulating your audience can quickly devolve from exciting to frustrating. In the case of Home Alone, the director uses a mix of traps ranging from generic pranks (like marbles and soap on the floor) to Rube Goldberg-esque traps for a good reason – so the boring traps don’t steal the spotlight from the elaborate ones!
Red herrings and misdirection
“Since surprise is based on unexpected anticipation, one of the best ways to surprise the reader is to make them anticipate something else by misdirecting his attention,” writes Iglesias.
Silence of the Lambs is a great example of a red herring (AKA false lead) in action: the raid on serial killer and skinner Buffalo Bill’s house. Instead of the squad of armed feds at his door, we find FBI trainee Clarice. The tension instantly melts away and our excitement gets replaced by anxiousness for the rookie – well-played author Thomas Harris.
“Although red herrings are a staple of mysteries, they can be used in any genre, like when a character pursues a wrong goal, or trusts the wrong person who will later betray him,” explains Iglesias. “It doesn’t matter what it is as long as you intentionally lead the reader in the wrong direction, while still following the logic of your story. Just make sure the mislead is always revealed later in order to have the surprising effect on the reader.”
Lifelines vs deus ex machina
Lastly, let’s talk about lifelines – an item or occurrence that helps the hero or saves the day. Think John McClane’s emergency pistol taped to his back at the end of Die Hard. If he didn’t have that on him, he wouldn’t have gotten the drop on the bad guys!
However, Iglesias points out that there’s a fine line between a lifeline and an uninspired deus ex machina. What’s a deus ex machina? Latin for “god out of a machine”, it’s a plot device popularised in ancient Greek theatre where divine intervention or luck helps advance the plot… like suddenly winning the lottery and being launched out of poverty, a sudden oasis in the desert or the bad guy suddenly being struck by lightning. Emphasis on the word suddenly because deus ex machina often happen without rhyme or reason.
“As much as possible, you should avoid such easy outs for your characters,” explains Iglesias. “They insult the reader and are emotionally unsatisfying. Make sure you set up the logic of what may be construed later on as a coincidence, and that it doesn’t solve the main crisis. You want to make the hero work, solve the problem through his own skills or allies, and thus earn his victories.”
Instead of just using the lottery as a way out of poverty, why not have the protagonist receive a rigged ticket promising a grand prize? In exchange for a life of luxury, the protagonist is blackmailed – which forces them to either beat the blackmailer, come clean or return to poverty. Characters that have to make hard decisions are way more entertaining to watch and empathise with, wouldn’t you agree?
Surprises come in many shapes and sizes, but their effectiveness all hinge on how unpredictable you make them (or in the case of lifelines, how well you set them up in advance). But do remember, being unpredictable is not the same as being random. Every surprise should have a tactical reason for existing – otherwise you’re only going to end up frustrating your audience!