Tag Archives: Batman

On Violence In My Stories

“Ensnared” – Illustration by Scott Ritchie

The recent tragic events in Aurora, Colorado and both their apparent and alleged link to the most recent Batman films spurred me to reflect on the use of violence in my own writing, as well as what my responsibility is as the creator of such elements and images in my stories.

First and foremost, I believe in the First Amendment and that the duty of any artist is to avoid self-censorship and be unsparingly honest in his work, whatever the subject matter or medium. Personally, I do tend to explore the darker side of humanity in my writing, mostly expressed through psychological terror, or emotional violence, but also occasionally through the depiction of physical acts of violence. Should I be concerned that a reader or audience member after reading or viewing something I’ve written will personalize and pervert it, use my imagination as inspiration to commit a heinous act?

If I worry about that, I’m already censoring myself and the work suffers.

Nature vs. Nurture. Does violence in books, film, art, video games, etc. turn seemingly normal, everyday people into sociopaths or psychopaths? I say no. Perhaps I’m more concerned that its ubiquity in our popular culture is having the opposite effect: desensitizing us to the point where we simply shrug our shoulders after reading about tragic and senseless death that occurs in the real world.

I have a choice. I have free will. I can write about anything I choose, so why do I choose to depict violence in my stories at all? What about it attracts me? Well, in the spirit of free speech there is, admittedly, and I know I’m not alone here, a small part of me motivated by an exhibitionist impulse to shock or elicit an emotional reaction from people via my somewhat twisted imagination.

And I am intrigued by the dark pocket I believe exists in each of us, the contents of which we’re secretly (and not so secretly) titillated by: the things that frighten us or seem most prurient to our more surface, public sensibilities. But it’s quite healthy, necessary even, to dip into this pocket and bring the darkness up into consciousness through creative expression.

What has suppression ever done but create walking talking powder kegs?

To be clear, I’m not interested in putting purely exploitative material out into the world, the only purpose of which is to debase and disgust. No thank you. I want to be provocative, yes, but in the pursuit of something with a point of view, where substance and style can achieve equilibrium.

In regard to violence (again, both physical and emotional), I feel a need to examine the act and its perpetrators in an attempt to understand why we behave the way we do, why we hurt each other, and to shine a light on the damage and the cost inflicted. The nature vs. nurture debate when it comes to violence can be spun into so many various and fascinating narratives, and ultimately the end result I’m striving for is a confluence of the thoughtful, unflinching, entertaining, and often uncomfortably humorous.

Sometimes the results of my “investigations” are ambiguous because there aren’t any clear, obvious answers. And some of the best writing doesn’t provide answers, but rather inspires more questions. But that doesn’t mean I’m hiding behind fiction or afraid to assert an opinion. There are artists who are not compelled to explain or defend their work, but if so challenged I will stand behind anything I’ve created and enter into any reasonable debate about its merit, about its right to exist.

I’m curious to hear from other writers, readers, filmmakers, filmgoers, artists and consumers of art in general. What’s your opinion on violence in the arts, the impact it has on our society, and the responsibility of the artist?

On Influences – Tim Burton

My parents were in town recently and we paid a visit to the Tim Burton exhibition at LACMA, which is a treasure-trove of his sketches, illustrations, paintings, and short films, as well as a collection of models, props and costumes from his various feature films. It’s abundantly clear the guy has always been bursting with dark, mischievous imagination, even from a very young age.

After getting a taste of Mr. Burton’s macabre aesthetic, and having read more than a few of my stories and scripts over the years, my dad sensed we might be kindred spirits and asked me if he’d been an influence. I answered with an unequivocal “Yes.”

I saw “Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure” when it opened in 1985 and enjoyed it, but it was “Beetlejuice” three years later that really made an impression on me. I’d never seen anything like it before, and it remains my favorite Burton film. Working from a brilliantly original screenplay by the late Michael McDowall and the late Warren Skarren (story by McDowall and Larry Wilson), Burton let loose his talent for mixing the morbid and the banal into something twisted and humorous, and yet somehow still tenderhearted, and created a world where the humans not the monsters are the real horror show.

Burton achieved similar results with “Edward Scissorhands” (scripted by Caroline Thompson, who also wrote the script for “The Nightmare Before Christmas”). One of its first images is of Edward’s home, a crumbling gothic manor on a hill overlooking a suburban neighborhood stocked with cookie-cutter houses painted in sickening pastels. Edward with his literal scissors for hands is brought into this society, and some people accept him, some people even love him, but ultimately the fear and prejudices of a vocal minority drive him back to the castle.

It’s these more personal, idiosyncratic projects that I respond to, more so than “Batman” or “Planet of the Apes” or “Alice in Wonderland.” However, for the record, I am a devoted fan of “Batman Returns,” in my opinion the weirdest and darkest studio summer film ever made. It’s obvious Warner Brothers took the leash off, and Burton and his collaborators delivered something more inspired and challenging than its predecessor. Absolutely not what most people were expecting. In an interview the film’s screenwriter Daniel Waters (another influence, his script for “Heathers” is exceptional) described people coming out of a screening looking like they’d just been punched in the face. Fantastic!

Although my stories are ultimately more sinister in tone than Burton’s, probably much closer to David Lynch territory in fact (another influence I’ll get to in a separate post), Burton’s influence is definitely present in the fairytale sequences I devised for my psychological thriller screenplay “The Wrinkleman,” and in the setting and characters in “The Creeps,” my horror-fantasy script about an orphan girl and a nightmare salesman. And we both share a general love for turning innocence on its ear, finding the humor in the grotesque, and placing our sympathies with the monster rather than the ordinary man.

Are you a Tim Burton fan? If you’re a writer, director, artist, etc., has he influenced or inspired you? What’s your favorite Burton film?