Sex, Violence, & Hollywood

"Whoa."

"Sex and violence?"

"C'mon."

Yeah, most of us complain that there's too much of it in the movies. But isn't this the stuff of story?

A screenplay, at its basic level, is a form of dramatic writing. Successful screenwriters employ the same tools of craft as successful playwrights.

Of course, there are differences in presentation. A stage play is confined to a proscenium . . . while the scenes of a movie can be shot in various locations. But in both forms of storytelling, characterization and conflict are the mechanims used to move the plot forward.

Many great works of drama employ some form of sex and violence. Ergo . . . is that the reason Hollywood infuses so many of its movies with these elements? Just because the talented playwrights of the past have relied so heavily upon sex and violence . . . does this mean that present-day screenwriters must also employ these same primal devices?

Would HAMLET still be considered a great play if Shakespeare had deleted the sex and violence?

When a writer accesses the emotional energy that is inherent in a social taboo . . . the focus of an audience is heightened due to the nature of the forbidden action.

For instance -- if two people start slugging each other . . . will this draw a crowd?

If a couple falls into a passionate embrace, will eyes turn and watch?

Let he who is not a voyeur throw the first stone.

When we see people engaged in sex and violence, we instinctively want to know what's going to happen next. Nature has instilled in us a natural desire to procreate and to survive. If our ancestors hadn't learned how to propagate babies or how to defend themselves against agression . . . none of us would be here.

Sex and violence are in our genes.

When a writer infuses a story with sex and violence, a primal power is generated that focuses our attention. But this doesn't mean we have to be hit over the head with graphic details. Heightened awareness is not a valid rationale for X-rated displays. If the public is constantly bombarded with eye-popping sex and violence . . . the taboo is deflated.

Indeed, a truly gifted writer can avoid gore and genitalia . . . and still intensify an audiences' focus.

A kiss or a hug can access the same emotional archetype as passionate sex.

It's just a matter of degree.

When a screenwriter is faced with the dilemma of writing a commercial story, the dramatic context doesn't have to rely solely upon sex and violence. A similar intent can be achieved via love and death. A writer doesn't have to employ the emotional absolutes in order to achieve a cinemantic climax.

If properly written, watching someone die of natural causes can, in fact, be more dramatic than an AK-47 shootout. A heartfelt kiss, if delayed by heroic action, can be as sexually charged as two people rolling in the hay.

Simply put, an audience's focus can easily be stimulated by hackneyed action. But when a writer magnetizes the interaction of plot and character with universal emotion . . . with a resonating enegy . . . this will garner a truly dramatic result -> an Aristotelian catharis, if you will.

If a writer is able to transfer emotion vicariously to an audience through the tools of craft . . . then the dramatic journey will ring true . . . and the screenplay has a shot at "two thumbs up."

It's not what we see.

It's what we feel.

< (c) 1999 > ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Click on -> "The Hollywood Market."