Showing posts with label serial killers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label serial killers. Show all posts

Sunday, June 20, 2010

The cop and serial killer cliché

The Cop
We've all seen something like this: Harry Wang, once a decorated detective on the NYPD, returns from his battle with morphine and Stolichnaya addiction just in time to work one of the most provocative cases in the department's history. Women are being brutally murdered in Manhattan East Side. They're being ground up like sausages. Anita Wang, harry's deceased wife, was once turned into a sausage by this savage killer. And now, after all these years, the East Manhattan Sausage Maker Killer is targeting Harry Wang, who is not a woman and does not endeavor to be anyone's sausage.

The Killer
Niles Trufont is not your obligatory killer. He holds seven Ph.D.'s in various topics, is the son and only child of a yachting magnate from Southern France, speaks seven languages, is fond of children, harpsichord and poetry, and likes the dress in women's knit fabrics when the camera isn't on him. His grandfather, a pedophile, abused and sexually molested Niles when he was young. Poor Niles associates ground pig with "Let me see your pee pee." Oh, and when Niles isn't playing harpsichord, speaking seven other languages, adoring children and sailing the seven seas, he's a Wall Street broker of unblemished reputation. And president of the Manhattan  chapter of the national "Don't let them see your pee pee" Association (and you thought you had a busy life). He's reserved a special hatred for Harry Wang, whose Korean grandfather was also a meat cutter (and probably a pee-pee peaker). Despite it all, he somehow finds the time to succeed in his career and still moonlight as a serial killer.

I'm being facetious, of course, but why the fuck does every cop in a thriller have to have drug and alcohol problems (and/or a dead wife), and why does every serial killer have to taunt the police? Jesus Christ, people, be original. Write your own story, not someone else's. It could turn out that someone else's story which so influences you might not be that good in the first place (and that story copies other stories). So, you're essentially writing a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of ten other copies. I mean, come on, where's the goddamn psychological depth? Have you actually researched serial killers? How many of them taunt the police? How many are geniuses with good jobs? In most cases, a serial killer lurks in the underbelly of society, preying on easy victims. Ph.D.'s? Obsessions with fine cuisine and Wall Street Jobs? Give me a fucking break.

I mean, when you construct these stories, do you understand there are other readers out there--yours truly, for example--who are rolling their fucking eyes at the derivative nature of your work? Thomas Harris had his day in the sunshine. Jesus Christ, write something original already. Research ACTUAL serial killers, and know this: serial killers, from a dramatic standpoint, are pretty ineffectual. Come up with an original spin. Serial Killer taunting cops who drink has been done ad nauseam. I can sometimes understand the frustration of agents and editors. If a derivative serial killer story came across my desk, not only would I reject it, I'd probably roll it into a tight ball and launch it through my own window.

End rant. Thank you for listening.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Viscera in Storytelling

I'd like to defend the extreme. The suff which makes us squirm and ooze. I'm not just talking about gore here, either. I'm talking extreme: crossing lines to which few will venture. And you've felt this way, haven't you, while reading a certain book or watching a certain film; the stuff happening is too horrific to be believed, and yet you're helpless to look away.

I have to admit I enjoy fiction and film which explores the outer reaches of human behavior. There is something fascinating about human depravity--I'm think this fascination is, in part, our effort to understand this behavior. At the risk of offending those with strong religious beliefs, I'll say this: some of the worst behavior in the history of man has come from ... religious groups.  Oh, you haven't heard about the Spanish Inquisition? Or maybe you have. My point, though, is that many high officials in the Roman Catholic church continue to pretend as though these events never occurred. And this group, meaning the Roman Catholic church, continues to be outraged that some Germans deny the Holocaust. Not that either group is correct. No, hypocrisy is hypocrisy.

There are several reasons why extreme content is more prevalent now. One is that the rules now allow it (let's face it, folks, we live in a society of sensationalism and voyeurism, thus the popularity of the reality show). Another reason is that it reflects who were are; the adage that truth is stranger that fiction could be no closer to the truth.

In my work in progress (completed, going through its resurrection after it was murdered by me, though in merciful fasion), the antagonist uses the Spanish Inquisition as justification for his own atrocities. He, like the Roman Catholics who committed the atrocities, thinks he is  justified in doing what he is doing. He is punishing Christians for ancient atrocities; that he himself is not a Christian is irrelevant. This antagonist, like any tyrannical dictators, celebrates his own religion, suffers from his own delusions. That communist Russia disavowed religion was a religion all of its own; that it wasn't practiced in a church didn't make it less so.

Not all bad behavior stems from religion.

Jack Ketchum, perhaps my favorite writer of fiction, has based a number of his novels on evil in the real world. In Off Season, a novel which nearly ruined Ketchum's career, he took the Scottish Sawney Bean legend (a family of cannibals purportedly living in Scotland) and transported these nasties to the coast of Maine, where they preyed on our unsuspecting characters. Off Season is a work of unapologetic extreme content and gore in which the nasties even make human soup (hey, cannibals are allowed to cook their food, aren't they?).

 As the years passed, Ketchum's content became even more extreme. His 1989 book, The Girl Next Door, is based on the worst case of child abuse in American history. The real-life perp, one Gertrude Baniszewski (pictured left) spent only 20 years in prison for her horrific crime, which lead to the torture and death of a 16-year-old girl. Ketchum's Girl Next Door, as deeply challenging as a novel could be to read (you will, as a reader, experience the horror of this poor girl), is beautifully written, evoking memories of Ray Bradbury's work in depicting vivid rural settings, and the psyche of a 12-year-old body (the narrator). I can't recommend this book enough, though if you're sensitive, you'd be advised to run in the other direction. Aunt Ruth, Gertrude Baniszewski's fictionalized counterpart, is a sadistic, immoral woman with a deep hatred for the girl.

Ketchum expresses deep outrage at the real-life story on which Girl Next Door is based. Jack Ketchum takes us to places other writers dare not go. Someone has to do it. Someone has to remind of the atrocities which we're capable. In 2007, Ketchum's novel was brought to film in a faithful adaptation of the same name. The film version is hard to watch. There is a moment, near the end, where I nearly stopped the DVD player.

Ketchum's 2001 novel, The Lost, manages to nearly reach the extreme level of Girl Next Door. Ray Pye, the character in the book, is based on real-life Arizona serial killer Charles Schmid (shown right) who was a predator and killer of several teenage girls. Pye is played to perfection to actor Marc Senter. Pye is a narcissistic, self-absorbed psychopath who might snap at any moment--and eventually does.

Explore them if you wish, the demons who inhabit our world, from tyrannical leaders without an ounce of pity in their souls to serial killers who butcher other humans like cattle. Well let's put the unpleasantries behind us, shall we? Some creators explore extreme content for the sake of shocking and entertaining us.

Let's take a trip to Asia. Japanese director Takashi Miike has built a Pandora's Box of films, from extreme comedies to Yakuza films to comic book adaptations. He's even directed a musical. In this side of the Pacific, however, Miike is most noted for his extreme films, from his surreal and perhaps supernatural Gozu to Imprint, a segment he directed for Showtime's Masters of Horror. If you want to hear a hilarious anecdote, Showtime, when they saw what Miike had produced, refused to put Imprint on television (it's available on DVD).

Probably Miike's most notable film--and one no horror fan should be without--is Audition. One viewer described the visceral effects of Audition as the reliving the shock audiences felt in 1960 when they saw Psycho for the first time. Whether Audtion is the most shocking film I've ever seen I don't know. I can say this: it's probably numbed me to extreme films. What starts as a Japanese version of Sleepless in Seattle quick turns into a surreal nightmare of the extreme. Asami, the film's antagonist, shown above, is such a cute, sweet lovely creature--and a monster of menacing proportions. Despite what Miike says, Audition must indeed be about women lashing back at a patriarchal Asian society. And, oh boy does Asami lash back. Complete with hypodermic and piano wire. The last twenty minutes of Audition are extremely difficult to watch--that is, unless you're highly desensitized. Watching this for the first time, I was reminded of the Exorcist, which I first saw on HBO when I was 11. Only with Audition, the element of shock, of absolute disbelief, was stronger. Audition, for all intents and purposes is too real, and not something you'll want to watch as often as, say, It's a Wonderful Life. Watching Audition is like being tied to a chair with your eyes held open while the inquisitor tortures his victims. Sensitive viewers beware: this film is not for you.

Imprint is extreme as well, and you will recognize the same pattern of depravity as in Audition, though Imprint goes further in other ways. Imprint is about a geisha punished for theft, and another geisha who has a bizarre twin. The family of the latter is involved in rather ghoulish service for pregnant women. Imprint is an amalgamation of taboos. Ichi the Killer is based on a comic book and tells the story of a quiet young restaurant worker who, when he's not clearing tables, kills with his razor boots. Ichi also concerns how Yakuza try to use Ichi to their advantage. Ichi is truly a fun film, if you have the stomach for extreme content.

I'll finish this blog with a list showing films you should see if, like me, you have an interest in extreme human behavior. In no particular order:

  1. Santa Sangre
  2. The Girl Next Door
  3. Audition
  4. Ichi the Killer
  5. Imprint
  6. Three Extremes
  7. Mum and Dad
  8. Inside
  9. Deranged 
  10. Irreversible
  11. Clean, Shaven
  12. Laid to Rest
  13. Deadgirl
  14. The Lost