10 Screenwriting Lessons You Can Learn From Something Wild
5. Your Hero Is Only As Good As Your Villain
What's the difference between Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Slumber Party Massacre? One is well remembered and spawned an entire franchise of horror films, whereas the other sounds made up despite there even being sequels. Why is that? I'd wager a lot as to do with the fact that one film has a chainsaw wielding mad-man with a mask made of human skin, while the other has some Denim Dan laying teenagers to waste with a power-drill. One of the standout elements of Something Wild is Ray Liotta's brilliant performance as Ray, who helps propel the story through the more conventional second half. While not being someone you necessarily root for, his character and performance is such that you simply can't take your eyes off him. A lot of what makes Ray so engaging on film is casting (Director Jonathan Demme wanted an actor that scared him), but there are some great ideas on paper that make him a great counter to Charles Driggs. A main character is always flawed. They can't start the movie perfect, or there's really no place for the story to go, nothing for them to learn. Charlie starts out Something Wild by walking out on a check, ditching work, enabling with drunk driving, lying about his living situation. What a great villain does is operate as a foil to the protagonist, highlighting everything he is not. Ray is everything Charlie is not, violent, angry, selfish, and remorseless. Charlie may not be perfect, and maybe even adapts some of Ray's better behaviours throughout the film, most notably his suave cunning. What's different about the two characters, at their core, is their virtue. Charlie may not be perfect, or even honest, but he's virtuous, especially when juxtaposed to a character like Ray. Aside from the more subtle lighting cues in the film (the mid-point shift, or a red break light that lights up his face, making him look evil), the screenplay offers this in a simple exchange: When Lulu/Audrey goes into a store to buy some liquor, Ray takes the private moment to ask Charlie what she's like in bed. "I mean, she looks like she could f*ck you right in half," he says. Charlie responds: "There's no call for that kind of language, Ray." Maybe this isn't the most subtle example one could find, but it's true to the characters, especially given the finer motivations provided by the movie (which I will leave out as I suggest you get your hands on copy). This leads me to point number 4...
While studying English and Philosophy at Rutgers University, Andrew worked as a constant contributor to the The Rutgers Review. After graduating in 2010, he began working as a free-lance writer and editor, providing his input to numerous areas including reviews for the New York Film Series, The Express-Times, and private script and story consulting. He is currently the Director of Film Studies at The Morris County Arts Workshop in New Jersey and publishes essays on the subject of film and television at his blog, The Zoetrope.