Countless screenwriting teachers and lecturers have said that when you face an opponent in a script, you must take the initiative to motivate them. They can’t exist just to make the hero’s life difficult, they need to have their own wishes, needs, and desires. They need motivation, and in many cases, it works best if they are the hero in their eyes.
But what if you were writing a horror movie? What if your opponent is a bunch of gelatinous sentient slime that likes to absorb people? What exactly are the key requirements for Blobs? How do you write a compelling monster that clearly has some purpose driving them to stab all those half-naked teenagers?
In short, as the title says – how to motivate a monster in a narrative sense?
Shape your monster’s motivations
There are two key factors, both of which are broken down into smaller parts. You have a paradigm that the monster follows in its behavior, and you have key monster story beats.
When it comes to horror movies, my horror-themed obsession is that there are four main paradigms of evil that your monster can fall into. Note that by “monster” in this case, I just mean the antagonist in a horror story, whether they’re a legitimate monster, a ghost, or just a really bad guy.
1. Bad guy
A bad guy monster is a monster that, despite its horrific nature, has a fundamentally human mind, no matter how broken, enhanced, or undead that mind may be. If they can blend in and talk, they’re the bad guys.
Like any good villain in any other genre, they need to think they are the hero of the story, or at least believe that their needs are more important than any human suffering.
The best way to develop this kind of opponent is to put them through the same process that your hero goes through. Whether that’s using an archetype, focus on their skills, triggers, or anything else that motivates the character, for better or worse.
Within these structures, just like a compelling hero, you can create a compelling villain by simply scripting their words and actions around these key characteristics.
2. An unstoppable force
An unstoppable force is any kind of monster that relentlessly tries to kill your hero. It’s perfect for horror films, survival horror stories, and creature features. This perspective treats your monster as something driven by a single motivation. Hungry? Angry? Horny?
Interestingly, the audience can tell what the motivating factors are. Looking back at the first example—what does the Blob want besides absorbing the population and growing larger? Why does Jason Voorhees hate teenagers? What is Bruce the Shark thinking?
Or you could make a single motivation a key plot point. It took eight movies to realize that Michael Myers just wanted to go home. Freddy Krueger is seeking revenge on all the parents who killed his children by playing tricks on them in a vigilante mob.
What we do know is that this monster won’t stop. You can still build an arc around this and only reveal parts of the monster as the story progresses and they become more (hungry/angry/thirsty) over time.
Read more: Raising the stakes: 5 lessons on how to write action and adventure that sell
“Spot” (1988)
3. From darkness
This strategy is about monsters hiding in the dark. It is possible that they are as intelligent as humans, but most likely of lower intelligence. They are smart enough to track, hunt and attack at the right moment, but can also snatch and snatch from isolated prey.
Alien. Killer ghost. Werewolf. Creature from the Dark is actually a bit of a hybrid. They have some sort of goal, probably singular, driven by a need based on habit, instructions, a curse, or some sort of rule, but we can only guess at what they might be. Think of it less as an instinctive need and more of a singular task.
The general rule when writing monsters like this is that the motivation is never known, or if discovered it will be a game changer in the final act. Maybe your character understands this need, maybe they don’t. Maybe discovering it is also the key to fighting them.
By the third act, this type of monster becomes an unstoppable force until dealt with.
4. Cause and effect
Something has started down an evil path… an event. A sacrifice. An invasion. Sleep was disturbed. A blasphemy. A calling. In this paradigm, monsters are usually resting or inactive. But now, it has become more active and it will continue until it successfully achieves its goal or stops.
The monster is also a bit of a hybrid, starting out quiet, staying hidden, and even looking innocent at first… and then growing in size as the story progresses. If intelligence is a factor, it also gets smarter over time. It usually wants something very specific and will get it by any means necessary.
Keep in mind that these examples are not necessarily revealing. You can reveal the monster’s motivations as part of your story, or you can just as easily keep it as a complete mystery, both of which can be terrifying in their own way. More importantly, use these examples as your guidelines as you write.
If your monster doesn’t follow some kind of rules (even if they’re never made explicit to the characters or the audience), it lends itself to credulity…which is kind of ridiculous, and then again, what motivates the Blob?
But one thing…
The human brain looks for patterns and logic, even subconsciously. If your monster appears/acts/attacks in random ways, people will feel like something is off about it.
Read more: What Is Symbolism and How to Use It in Writing
The Babadook (2014)
Learn the beats of a monster story
Now, the other half of that equation – the monster story beats. No matter what outline and story-breaking method you choose, whether it’s the classic Hollywood three-act structure of Save the Cat or a story circle or something of your own design – within that structure, there are five key story beats that apply to your monster.
In the first act, there will be some kind of awakening or revelation. Often this might even be the opening scene, a moment that tells the audience that this thing is real. When your protagonist first discovers that something terrible is going on, you’ll want to revisit that another dozen pages or so later.
The first half of the second act is all about the monster establishing its presence in the story. Speed and pacing vary greatly depending on the paradigm, monster type, horror movie genre, etc. Remembering your examples should give you an idea of what to do.
For example, if they are bad guys, we might see and meet them and discover some clues that they are not what they seem, but not directly indicate what they are up to.
Halfway through your story, though, we’re supposed to see something scary. I’m not saying don’t show anything until the midpoint, but before the midpoint, your characters know what they’re dealing with (even if they don’t know how to deal with it). Again, look at your example. The monster from the dark will steal some people, and maybe we’re getting a closer look at it now for the first time.
The second half of Act 2 and all leading into Act 3 is about what your character does to survive/escape/defeat monsters.
In the end, your last monster defeat will be the moment this plan comes to fruition…or is it? Don’t forget that studios love franchises, so don’t be afraid of that hand being punched out of the grave or being scared by that final jump! (Or don’t and let evil be defeated).
As a writer, you need to insist on knowing how your monsters behave and when they should do certain things.
“An American Werewolf in London” (1981)
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Plug in time! If you find this helpful, I actually have an entire workbook filled with exercises, tips, and information on creating horror scripts. It’s called “The Writer’s Guide to Horror Movies” and is available on Amazon.
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