It’s more than suspense. It’s the moment when the audience holds its collective breath. Time seems to stand still, and we’re not sure we want the scene to unfold. But there’s no turning back.
Can a movie scene hold the kind of suspense that brings us to the crossroad of not wanting to move forward yet not wanting to turn back? Is that what suspense does to us? Movie suspense is tricky business and what one viewer finds gasp worthy may have a ho-hum effect on another viewer. But there’s no denying the feeling, the inner resistance that pushes and pulls and, ultimately, doesn’t allow us to turn away. And for that one moment, it’s all about the buildup.
My prime example of the suspenseful moment is a scene in “The Day the Earth Stood Still,” a movie that I watched on television. The sci fi film was released in theatres on September 18, 1951 with an overt message of the threat of nuclear power in a postwar society. Not even the small screen could diminish the effect of a giant of an alien, Gort, who had no distinguishable features other than the opening of a slit in his face covering that reveals a deadly laser beam. Everything about Gort is slow and deliberate, especially his movements, and the build-up is haunting and mesmerizing. There’s the famous line that actress Patricia Neal, as Helen Benson, is instructed to say by actor Michael Rennie’s character Klaatu if he is harmed. The inside story is it that Patricia Neal had to refrain from laughing with the words “Klaatu Barada Nikto” during rehearsals that would stop Gort from delivering a fatal laser strike. In the film, the words don’t come right away to a fearful Helen, and the tension builds for beats. Beyond that heightened suspenseful moment, the movie is a cautionary tale. Klaatu brings his message of peace and a desire to see the end of wars and violence on our planet. All in all, only moments of suspense exist in “The Day the Earth Stood Still,” and sometimes that’s more powerful than a surfeit of tense-filled scenes.
And then there’s Alfred Hitchcock, the master of suspense. His movies combine both an atmosphere of suspense and specific moments, like the icing on the cake! One of my favorite Hitchcock films is “The Birds” which, once again, I watched on television. Yet, I do recall as a child that the movie entered theatres as a rerelease, and I did see it on the big screen. It takes a long time for the birds to start attacking, but the tense-filled atmosphere permeates the story from its opening scene in the San Francisco pet shop that, according to Christopher Law “cultivated an atmosphere, enticingly framing the fraught psychological mystery which follows” as he states in a story analysis at culturedarm.com. The movie’s protagonist, Melanie Daniels, is played with cool sophistication and an exquisite blend of aloofness and curiosity by Tippi Hedren. The pet shop birds already seem perturbed by Melanie’s presence, and, as audience members, we’re feeling a little edgy. Her verbal dance with Rod Taylor’s character, Mitch, heightens the tension as they play out a little one-upmanship with revealing their identities. At first, Melanie pretends to be a clerk in the store as Mitch enquires about lovebirds. He plays along with Melanie’s pretense and finally acknowledges awareness of her real identity as a socialite involved in a courtroom case due to an incident in Rome. We immediately learn Melanie is demanding, deceptive, and goes to great lengths to capture what she desires. Mitch is her new conquest. And then there’s the undercurrent of the menacing birds that increases with every scene and remains underscored by the love birds as Melanie delivers them personally to Mitch and his family at Bodega Bay. Even before the pet store scene, sea gulls clutter the sky near a city square. Melanie comments on the sea gulls to the shopkeeper in the opening sequence. The first bird attack is twenty-five-and-a-half minutes into the film; the second attack is another twenty-five-and-a-half minutes later. Throughout the time in between, the atmosphere of suspense never diminishes. The intense moments of suspense culminate with the final sequence when the birds have their way with Melanie. Every scene leads up to the penultimate moment that left me fearful of winged creatures in my youth.
There’s a difference between conflict and suspense. Stories need conflict—a distraction or event that prevents the protagonist from achieving his or her goal. Suspense is not a given but a choice the writer makes to heighten the stakes with an undercurrent of tension. Here’s an effective quote from MasterClass.com distinguishing the two. “While tension simmers under the surface, conflict is generally out in the open—it’s tension realized. Tension might be present an unspoken rivalry between the protagonist and antagonist or in the audience’s awareness of an impending disaster.” In “The Birds,” palpable from the opening credits, there’s an unspoken rivalry between the winged creatures and Melanie, and whatever she carries with her to Bodega Bay. As an audience member, I liken the story to a roller coaster with its loops and dips of twisted steel, i.e. the air of suspense. We know there’s going to be thrills, but we have to get into the car and experience the visceral sensation. Those are the tense-filled moments when the rollercoaster car slowly ascends to its apex on a skinny rail. We know there’s absolutely no way out—like knowing what Melanie will face behind the closed attic door.
However you decide to craft your story, be aware of either building those tense moments or creating the atmosphere of suspense like the roller coaster itself with a few steep drops in between. Happy writing!