by Gary Fearon
With Halloween not far away, it seems a fitting time to honor the bad
guys of fiction, without whom there wouldn't be much of a story.
Without a worthy foe, a hero is just another joe.
It's not hard to come up with a character whose wants are in direct
opposition to those of our protagonist. The trick is creating a bad guy
to whom the reader can relate, a connection which inherently increases
the fear factor. To see ourselves reflected in a villain can be quite
disquieting.
|
Hungry Hungry Hannibal |
Who could resist the cultured charm of Hannibal Lecter in
Silence of the Lambs? Certainly not FBI ing
énue
Clarice Starling, in spite of — or perhaps because of — his ability to
get into her head. But Hannibal wasn't always a cannibal. His
propensity for people eating has its roots in a childhood tragedy in
which his own sister was devoured. While that would ruin most normal
appetites, we can appreciate that it could put a side of insanity on the
menu.
Speaking of charmers, the man Harry Potter fans
know as Snape made his mark in the movies by playing Die Hard's dapper
terrorist Hans Gruber. (Not to be confused with classical composer Heinz
Gruber, although there was a certain artful orchestration to his
masterminding.)
We may think of the Wicked Witch of the West as
little more than the green face of evil. But I'd be a little miffed too
if someone dropped a house on my sister. And I don't even have one.
Captain Hook's beef with Peter Pan goes way
back, but wasn't helped by the fact that the very reason he has a hook is
because of Peter. Avenging an injustice, again, can be a powerful
motivator.
More recently, a pivotal character in The
Fault in Our Stars seems at first to have no redeeming qualities until
the cause of his unsociable behavior is revealed. A look at most of the classic movie monsters —
presumably the most heinous of the horde — reveals a deep-seated humanity,
often that of a misunderstood or tortured soul. From the Wolfman to the
Frankenstein creation that started it all, most were innocent recipients of
their lot in life. Quasimodo and The Phantom of the Opera are at their core
pathetic figures deformed by life and a lack of love.
We do well whenever we can cast a villain who is more than a
cardboard cutout of crime. The more relatable he is, the more we
sympathize with him, and the more real he becomes.
Basically, we love a villain who has a
heart. As long as it's not someone else's.