The role of violence in story

I think about violence a lot. No wait, don’t call the authorities. I mean I think about violence in stories a lot. Conflict is at the heart of every story and violence, for better or worse, makes for good stories and most of my favourite movies are pretty violent. But I have made it a rule for myself that, for the stories I tell, what I won’t have is thoughtless violence. And there’s a difference.

I recently watched all the Fast and Furious movies with my daughter and we finally got to Fast X. Have you seen it? It’s the one with Jason Mamoa hamming it up beautifully. It’s a lot of fun. There is a sequence late in the movie where Dom’s son, Little B, who is supposed to be around 8 years old, is in a car with his uncle Jakob (John Cena) and they are being chased by bad guys. Now the bad guys haven’t actually fired a single shot, they just seem to be driving after Little B and Jakob. Jakob’s car is rigged with large explosives and, as they are driving away from these bad guys and Jakob asks Little B, 8 years old, to fire on them. And he does. He blows up two cars at first and more later and they laugh and they celebrate the fiery deaths of the people inside.

An 8 year old just took his first lives.

Not only that, the movie had already established that all the “bad guys” were themselves victims. The Mamoa character was holding their families hostage in exchange for obedience. They were not willing participants. They were victims.

We’re supposed to cheer the moment when Little B, 8 years old, kills these people.

A little later, the launcher system jams but Little B, 8 years old, takes it upon himself to go out onto the car and fixes it. And moments after that, SPOILER, Jakob, his uncle, uses this system to kill himself taking a bunch of “bad guys” with him, as Little B watches him go up in flames.

None of the consequences of this are ever acknowledged. Not one.

And it’s funny because even when young I used to wonder about that. Did Luke Skywalker ever think about the moment he took his first life? Did John McClane?

Then I compare Fast X to Godzilla Minus One and now Minus Zero and how they show the horror of violence. They show the tragedy. The fallout. The trauma that never truly ends. The survivor guilt. And even the guilt that follows the perpetrators. Who would have thought we’d get that from a Godzilla movie?

I would. I’d have thought that. I've watched the original many times. Of course we would get that from a Godzilla movie. The series, as goofy as they got during the Showa era, is rooted in the trauma of violence.

Its roots are thoughtful.

And there is a mid ground of course. It's possible to have a story that has fun, embraces the drama and the conflict, is pretty damn cool and yet still doesn’t pretend there aren’t consequences of the violence. It’s very doable. And I do remember the research telling me that this is better for us. As people. Even as kids, in age-appropriate ways of course, but yes, even as kids. The 1972 Surgeon General's Report on Television and Social Behaviour notes that, while violent media early on can lead to more aggressive behaviour, awareness of painful outcomes of aggression can limit aggressive behaviour. I wrote a post many years ago on my preschool blog about this on why the Saw movies are better for kids than Home Alone and, yes, I was joking but with a real point: there is a danger in glorifying and celebrating violence without making clear that it hurts. That it kills. And that it leaves a wake of heartbreak behind it.

No thoughtless violence.

That’s just my own guide. You can find your own.

And it’s what informed Screecher’s Reach, our Star Wars Visions episode from a few years back, and our whole approach for that. And it worked for that reason. That’s why it had weight.

Something to consider.

In the meantime, get out to the cinema and see Godzilla Minus Zero. It’s an incredible movie with weight and consequences and beauty and heartbreak and worth seeing on a huge IMAX screen. Enjoy big movies on a big screen.