As a thriller author, I know all about testing the boundaries of suspended disbelief. As a consumer of thrillers, I do it all the time. Coincidences have to happen to make a story work, and as writers, it’s our job to make the coincidences feel organic to the situation the characters are enduring. For the sake of tension and drama, we stack the odds against our good guys. That way, when they ultimately prevail, the victory feels that much sweeter.
We’ve been watching a lot of streaming movies and television shows in our special viewing room over the past couple of months, and as the tropes stack up, I’m having a progressively harder time keeping my inner commentary silent, earning a few elbow shots from my beloved and more than a few harsh shushes. Consider . . .
. . . When crashing the drug den and the SWAT team is stacked up behind a ballistic shield and armed with enough fully-automatic firepower to topple Venezuela, why is Detective Danny Reagan with his pistol and designer ballistic vest out in front of everybody?
. . . Why don’t detectives ever just turn on a light? Instead, the search the dusty darkness of a suspects bedroom–or the basement where all murders were committed–with only the illumination provided by a tiny penlight.
. . . Why does our brilliant good guy wait till he arrives at the site of trouble before he chambers a round into his pistol? That means he’s been driving around all day essentially unarmed.
. . . After prevailing in the firefight in Room A, why doesn’t our good guy take advantage of the relative peace to reload before moving to Room B? Never bring old bullets to a new gunfight.
. . . For heaven’s sake, good guy or bad, just friggin’ shoot! You’ve achieved your goal. You’ve got your prey in your sights. And let’s be honest: At that point, while the victim very likely cares deeply that you intend to kill them, they’re not really going to be listening to the why. If they’ve got any sense, they’re going to be focused exclusively on either how to get away or to kill you first. Any way you cut it, your best call is to pull the trigger. Conversely, if you change your mind, your only move is to run like a bunny rabbit because only bad things lie ahead for you.
I make it a point to never pick on particular shows by name, but there’s one very popular program that makes my head explode every week. Let’s pretend there’s a show called “Trooper” and it features a character named Dalton Shames. To our knowledge, Dalton’s never had a conventional job, but it’s clear that he was raised by MacGyver. Give Dalton a can of Dr. Pepper, and he can turn a paper clip into a flame thrower.
Okay, I joke about the flame thrower, but he routinely produces a full-size 1911 platform pistol from the waistband of his trousers, right at the small of his back. His limp-wristed grip is all wrong for that gun (that’s a real description, not a pejorative), and none of the nations most draconian gun laws apply to him. Not even New York or Los Angeles.
In last week’s episode, a plucky 19-year-old is able to infiltrate the lair of a dangerous drug kingpin with the intent of kingpin regicide. It’s quite a feat given the army of armed guards. Dalton, in the company of the local sheriff, who has inexplicably ceded all law enforcement powers to this stranger from out of town, raid the compound themselves by ramming their way through the front gate. They have to keep the 19-year-old from being killed by the cartel, don’t you know.
Here’s the plan: The sheriff will hold off the army with his six-shot revolver while Dalton makes his way to the kingpin’s throne room, where the plucky kid has his highness dead to rights, but can’t bring himself to pull the trigger. Yada, yada . . . shot from off camera, kingpin gut shoots plucky kid, Dalton shoots kingpin and takes off running with plucky kid over his shoulder. Bad guys with rifles can’t hit a running target at ten yards, Dalton can’t miss with unaimed shots while running.
All is well but for this kid with a hole in his gut. Not to worry. There’s a horse veterinarian with a pouch of goodies who says he can help.
CUT TO: A kingpin’s yard filled with cop cars that would have been really handy a little while ago. But the vehicle we really care about it the ambulance with our plucky-now-gut-shot 19-year-old looking like a million bucks, all cleaned up, sitting upright in the stretcher while Dalton tells him everything’s going to be okay. Then Dalton allows the paramedics to close the back doors and drive him away.
Sigh.
There’s suspension of disbelief, and then there’s no element of this story is possible so therefore none of the story is engaging. I am without a doubt becoming progressively more curmudgeonly about these things, but I swear that lazy storytelling is becoming the norm.
In these days of Chat GPT and even simple YouTube searches, even uninformed storytelling is lazy. A car door has never been adequate to stop any but the smallest bullet, but ten years ago, not knowing that was forgivable. Now, there are entire channels dedicated to what stops what caliber of bullet. I have to assume that s true of every other once-esoteric subject.
What say you, TKZ family? How forgiving is the suspension mechanism for your disbelief?
I am forever yelling “Turn on the lights!” into the darkness. Not one of the writers is listening.
I, too, have little or no patience with failure to at least research feasibility or common sense:
Like crawling through air conditioning ductwork – it’s full of sheet metal screws that protrude from all for sides at ever joint and should shred clothing and skin at each encounter, it’s suspended by thin straps intended to support only the duct and the air it directs, and there are innumerable dampers and filter assemblies blocking the path of travel… (sorry Die Hard fans…)
And speaking of fans – those big, slow turning exhaust fans folks always seem to be falling towards – not so much – they’re usually wrapped in big shrouds connected to that ductwork to prevent folks from getting chopped to bits…
(I will give credit to some, though, who have realized the suspended ceilings in offices and such don’t hold up more than the ceiling tiles and light fixtures…)
And then there’s the flooding an entire floor (if not building), by lighting a flame under a single sprinkler head and having all of the other, non-affected heads, in non-affected zones, commence raining…
I notice, too, that many (too many), times characters will board one type of airplane and arrive on another (without a layover) – sometimes it’s a blatantly obvious exterior shot, but other times it’s a one-aisle interior and a wide-body/two-aisle exterior…
I could, (and y’all know me, can) go on, but these are just a couple of simple “continuity” and “plausibility” things what I assume are lazy or condescending (“What does the view know?”) authors/screenwriters (and editors) assume nobody knows or cares about and just let pass…
How about those sprinklers that are triggers by smoke detectors?
You know what’s a good resource for writers aiming not to fall into these ‘but why didn’t they’ easytraps? A YouTube channel called Cinema Sins. They just ruthlessly hunt down the ‘nopes’ even in great films Definitely found myself going, ‘…But Cinema Sins, though…’ when about to commit a writing sin. I mean, I LOVE Sinners with all my heart, but why did the Klan wait till morning, when all the patrons would be back picking cotton or whatever, to hit the club???
This post reminds me of something. If you happen to recall the show Starsky & Hutch from the 70’s, I always wondered how realistic it was that a detective would drive around in a bright red Torino with a blazing white stripe down the side. Talk about easily seeing you coming! 😎
Though I will admit the flip side–while I’m not sure how realistic that hot rod was for detective work (Hutch’s old Ford LTD blended in much more) I loved that Torino for the flash and had a toy car version, and my 1st car was a much more staid-looking 4-door brown Torino.
I loved Starsky and Hutch. In college, in certain party situations, a buddy and I would transform ourselves to become Spasky and Klutz in order to make arrests at sorority parties. Different times.
Not Husky and Starch?😁
John, you’ve hit on one reason why I turn off many movies. They’re like video games—flashing lights, acid-trip scene changes, and stunts that defy physics. No plausible plot, little characterization, but nonstop tidal waves of adrenaline.
My suspension of disbelief ended at the same time Elvis left the building.
I watched that show last night. Based on books by and produced by a very well-known author. Because you’re being anonymous, I’ll call him Geoff Cleaver. But when the tv people get their hands on something, it’s all about the audience, and the general public is willing to suspend disbelief a lot faster than someone well-versed in the subject matter. I’m still wondering how Dalton stumbled upon that horse, saddled and ready to ride, on his trek through the desert.
Way to stay stealthy! The producers of that show have lost all respect for the original character.
And while we’re on that horse sequence, Why did the guys with the guns and the homicidal intent give up so easily on their quest to kill Dalton? And how did Dalton know where the hell to go once he found that random horse tied up outside the only structure within miles of desert? Are we at all concerned that the owner of that house might now be stranded out there?
I think I know the show you’re talking about. Can’t watch it anymore due to the same reasons. I don’t mind suspending my belief once to get into the quest. After that, I lose patience with “convenient” storytelling.
I’ve no idea what the show is, but I’m sure I’d have turned off at the ‘yeah, right’ moments.
Oh yes. My hubs and I yell at the TV a great deal. We didn’t realize how egregious we were about it until a relative happened to be visiting. Her comment was, “Well now I feel really dumb because I didn’t know half those things you were complaining about!”
That’s the kind of blissful ignorance producers are hoping for! And if she’s happy watching shlock, that’s fine, too. I have no problem with people entertaining themselves with what makes them happy.
What bothers me, however, is the fallout from those kinds of ratings: where clever, well-written shows get cancelled in favour of shlock because people “don’t want to have to think about” their entertainment.
TThis One of my pet peeves is the situation where the hero, armed with a pistol, is locked in an epic battle with villains possessing automatic weapons. Then, when he manages to take one or two of them down, he runs happily back into battle, armed with—his pistol. Leaving the villians’ automatic weapons behind.
I can’t fathom writing a script that idiotic. Although the fault might lie with the director, not the author.
15 henchmen with Uzis miss the hero but the hero can hit 6 for 6 with his pistol. As one movie reviewer put it, “If Uzis were that inaccurate, the history of the Middle East would be vastly different.
Miss Hottie pulls a full frame Glock out of someplace in her short, slinky, slit dress.
The bad guy soliloquy. “I must control the world codfish market because… and you have now prevented that so I must kill you.” This of course, gives the good guy time to escape, kill the bad guy and save the world.
There is a game based on the bad guy soliloquy. “Before I Kill You Mr. Bond.” The authors discovered that while James Bond is fictional, his solicitors are not. The game is now called, “https://boardgamegeek.com/boardgame/164/before-i-kill-you-mister-spy” and available.
The Uzi itself is so 1980s, but producers love it because it looks cool. Then came the MP5 (“Speed” and others) as a producer favorite. They’re both just suped-up pistols (they’re called pistol caliber carbines).
You’ll love the infamous Evil Overlord List.
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/EvilOverlordList
I don’t watch much TV these days. If I do, it tends to be mysteries. But I do love the way Hollywood is willing to sacrifice just about any thought of rationality on the altar of profitability.
Your descriptions of those scenes are hilarious, John. Makes me want to watch them just to see what you’re talking about.
Hilarious, and right on. My husband counts bullets possible in the make and model of weapon. He says, “That was his last bullet.” Then, without reloading, he goes on to shoot four more bad guys.
I think that show is banking on the main character’s appeal, and his shedding his shirt periodically confirms that. We don’t watch it anymore unless we’re desperate (Longmire ended) and I think this show has another agenda, anyway. Which is too bad, because it should be good. The spinoff on Danny’s show should be good, too, but sinks into ridiculousness.
This isn’t about thrillers, but I was reading a romantic suspense by a popular author that I almost put down. The wealthy hero has been forced to share a non-air conditioned cottage in the humid South, and it doesn’t occur to either of them to go buy a window air conditioner.
Many times we see something on TV and ask, “Has this writer ever lived in the real world?“