In 2009 Jon Lucas and Scott Moore wrote a story about three groomsmen looking all over the seedy underside of Las Vegas for their lost groom while battling morning-after-debauchery haze. It is a masterclass in writing a mystery. For that matter, writing a successful subversion of a trope. The “successful” part is key. Not every attempt at undermining viewer (reader, you know, whatevs…) expectations is a rip-roaring success.
Meanwhile, The Hangover robbed the proverbial bank, grossing over $400mm against a $35mm production budget. It became the highest-grossing R-rated film ever. It was in fact so successful that it spawned two sequels.
That is the power of comedy. We love to laugh. When asked about a favorite movie, the average person will waffle between childhood favorite (Star Wars) and cool-movie favorite, (Goodnight and Good Luck) while usually forgetting the movie we never consider a favorite but is the go-to comfort film, (Tinker Tailor Solder Spy). You ask the same person what their favorite comedy is, (Young Frankenstein) and usually, you’ll get an immediate, unequivocal answer.
“Jokes kill,” English axiom
But what makes comedy so delightful—subvertion of expectations—is also the inherent risk. There is the setup or establishment of expectations and then the punchline, typically wildly different from the expectation. As comedy has evolved, comedians have pushed the envelope of propriety, (Lenny Bruce, Paul Mooney et al) with varying degrees of success.
In comedy, the only failed joke is the one that doesn’t get a laugh. Vulgar, offensive, abusive even, as long as it’s funny, no harm, no foul, no hurt feelings…among comedians. The audience is another matter.
There are comedians who make the audience the butt of the gag. That shtick goes back to court jesters. So does heckling and throwing rotten food at comedians. Both, turning the audience into the joke and heckling comedians, resembles assault for a reason—both hurt. Thankfully, the most common reaction to an abusive comedian, (in my limited comedy show experience) is audience members exiting in the middle of the show.
“I don’t care. Leave. You already paid for the ticket.” Steve Harvey
Those people—injured by the act and insulted to have paid to be wounded—will not give that comedian another dime of their money. Trust and believe it. The last standup show I saw, (easily ten-years ago) was Sheryl Underwood. I expected her to go blue, (profanity) I did not expect the degree of vulgarity. I certainly did not expect her to delight in audience discomfort. The Missus and I stuck it out for the full set, even as a quarter of the audience made for the exits. However, not only would we not go to another Sheryl Underwood gig, we have not attended another comedy show since.
You run the same risk when pushing the envelope in your book. There is a fine line between pushing the boundaries and pushing your reader away. In previous discourses, I have written about the importance of NOT placing you (the writer) and your catharsis ahead of the story and/or reader. Inflicting your trauma on the reader will not engender affection or compel further reading. In short, if you hurt people they will throw your book in the trash.
Pat Conroy, Frank McCourt—yikes—once was more than enough of each.
Of course books are, (like comedy) subjective. Some people LOVE Jodi Picoult, others can take/leave her. Few who have read her would argue that she struggles with endings.
There’s a fine line between Franz Kafka’s troubling Metamorphosis and James Joyce’s nearly unreadable Ulysses.
Obviously, we’re talking about the innovative stories that broke new ground and not simply stories we don’t like. I did not like Wide Sargasso Sea, Confederacy of Dunces, or Postcards (Proulx not Fisher) but there is no denying the collective brilliance of the writers or the merit of the stories. Most importantly, those books—with difficult and/or not fun passages—may challenge but do not assault the reader.
If studying history doesn’t make you angry, it is not history, it's propaganda.
Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian is the antidote to the romantic mythos of the American west. It is also an unrelentingly brutal exploration of how the west was “won.” Throw in an indictment of the religious underpinnings of our racism and “manifest destiny,” and you have fun for the entire family. The Manson family, maybe.
The cover beautifully contains the horror there-in
Blood Meridian follows a barbaric company of "Indian fighters" as they commit genocide on the very people they were paid to protect. The carnage in this book is more than a literary or even a salacious device. It is an assault on the reader using the reader's interest as a setup and factual events as a bludgeon.
Result
If I had read Blood Meridian first, I would have never read McCarthy’s Border Trilogy. Reading Blood Meridian helped me realize that I didn’t need that much misery in my entertainment. Brilliant as the man is, I have not read any of McCarthy’s other books.
“…and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.” Friedrich Nietzsche
Sarah Kane’s 1995 play, Blasted, is the ultimate example of how Nietzsche’s quote works in the real world. All of Kane’s plays explore themes of redemption, despair, and profound pain all infused with an unhealthy dose of sexual dysfunction. However, Blasted—which depicts graphic torture, sexual violence, and cannibalism—gets right to the heart of Kane’s battle with mental illness. Audiences were appalled. Critics were acidic and savaged the exploitation-for-shock-value writing.
Result
In the decades since, Kane’s 1999 suicide her work has been reassessed. UK newspaper, The Independent lists Blasted as one of its 40 best plays. That’s critics. I sincerely doubt that many recreational theater-goers lined the street to attend the revival.
“It's not the job of the artist to give the audience what the audience wants. If the audience knew what they needed, then they wouldn't be the audience. They would be the artists.” Alan Moore
Alan Moore is the standout, most popular writer here, (based on sales and exposure). His work in graphic fiction (comic books) turned the genre on its ear. More than formulaic caped crusaders and dastardly villains, Moore wrote protagonists and antagonists as actual people. One of Moore’s most charismatic creations, John Constantine, is a chain-smoking con man who does good based on expedience to his hustle game.
Moore used comic books to explore themes—sexuality, domestic abuse, psychological issues—not previously seen in the medium. His work ushered in a new era in comics with gravity and purpose. So, what’s not to like?
As his work found larger audiences and his Watchmen series catapulted him to the top of the industry, Moore expanded on themes of child abuse, sexual violence, and exploitation—less tropes of writing and more cudgels of grievance. Around the time his League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, series was released, I read a fan comment, and I paraphrase, “Is there buggery? Because it’s not an Alan Moore story without buggery.”
Moore went beyond “buggery” in LoEG he takes Edward Hyde (Jekyll and Hyde) to his logical extreme. Far from a mindless stand-in for the Hulk, Hyde is smart. Smart enought to know one of his fellows is working both sides and smart enough to set a trap to catch the traitor. Unsatisfied with raping and mutilating said traitor, Hyde inflicts attrocity on the traitor and the handlers. Moore stops short of calling Hyde a hero, but the tongue-in-cheek memorial does the heavy lifting.
Result: No more for me, thanks...
Moore’s work continues to find an audience but the fans tend to be title-specific. They are League of Extraordinary Gentleman fans or Watchmen fans or From Hell fans. That means they will read Watchmen, (still published by DC) or LoEG or Miracle Man, no matter who writes it. There are three other LoEG graphic novels and a Nemo spinoff series but I have no interest in any of them.
Don’t bite the hand
In 2011, The Hangover II hit theaters. Following the same territory, with Bangkok subbing for Las Vegas, the “Wolfpack” searches for…really, no one cares. It’s about these morons trying to fix what they broke the night before and fans were there for it. The film made over $500mm. My friend (and cousin-in-law) Josh and I watched the movie for notes to apply to our spec script.
The tone was slightly off but it was different writers. Then, about midway through there was a gag that went too far. Never “American Playhouse,” TH had racist and sexist gags aplenty. As one critic wrote, AH turned from "mean and edgy to vicious and dark" for no apparent reason.
More than a jocular punch to the arm, the racism, trans/homophobia and cultural exploitation was a backhand to the viewers mouth. In the theater you could feel the entire audience cringe when that gag landed. The laughter was uncomfortable, like when you realize that you’re the butt of the joke and you're not sure how to respond.
Result
Did the series end because of that gag? Hardly. The third movie was green-lit while the second film was still in theaters. But by 2013 everyone had heard the joke. TH III did $300mm against a $100mm budget—successful to be sure. Still, it was just as clear to the studio that returns were diminishing. Hollywood says, (only half-jokingly) that the last sequel is the only one that loses money. No one was willing to see if there was gas in the tank for a fourth movie. Obviously, after the slap in the face of TH II, I didn’t see the third turkey.
Takeaway
Whether you write literature, genre, or cartoons, be savage in your self-assessment. Find beta readers with critical reading skills, who know your genre, and who have an eye for “tone.” They can save you from yourself.
When you push the envelope and write that kind of scene, the kind that gets pushback from your beta-readers it's time to assess. Ask yourself what changes about the story with—AND without that scene? Then ask is the scene about the story or something else?
It’s not simply a question of “will this offend someone?” The question becomes, "does it further the story?" Does it make or break your story? Is it absolutely instrumental to the narrative? Does your story hinge on that push? Because if the push exceeds the story, it very well may be the reader’s breaking point.
I own none of the photos above. All are used here for educational/instructional purposes as covered by the Fair Use Doctrine.
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