Onscreen Villains

When actor Alan Rickman died, there was a lot of praise for the outstanding villainous role he had played: Hans Gruber in the first Die Hard movie. And that reminded me of the other box office villains who have developed a cult following. Even moralistic India has its fascination with Gabbar Singh and Mogambo!

But the best onscreen villains aren’t the ones who are just powerful or cruel or sadistic (sorry, Darth Vader). Rather, they are the guys who have the best dialogues (and dialogue delivery). Remember the awesome monologue by the smooth talking Jew hunter, Colonel Landa in Inglorious Bastards? Or the panache of John Travolta in Broken Arrow and Face Off?

We love to understand the plot of the evil one. The villain Joker tosses that out when he tells Batman:

“Do I really look like a guy with a plan? You know what I am? I’m a dog chasing cars. I wouldn’t know what to do with one if I caught it. You know, I just… do things.”

Other villains rarely do or say anything; but the terror they inspire is brought out by what others say about them. Like Keyser Soze in The Usual Suspects. With Lord Voldemort, JK Rowling used both techniques to build the aura (if that’s the word for a villain!): the man spoke and did things, was fiendishly clever (not just brute force), and was described with such awe by both friends and foes alike.

Arthur Conan Doyle, however, could not create any such aura around Moriarty. But where Doyle failed, the modern day BBC version titled Sherlock succeeded. Spectacularly. Moriarty puts it perfectly when he mocks Holmes:

“Every fairytale needs a good, old fashioned villain.”

So much so that it looks like the TV series will have to resurrect Moriarty to keep the show popular! I guess the yin and the yang are both needed…

To those who might be offended (or worried) by such praise being heaped on villains, I’d remind them that people once worried about novels having the wrong influence on “tender or vulnerable minds”, as Tara Isabella Burton puts it:

“Throughout the 19th century, novels were regarded with the same suspicion with which we treat, say, Eli Roth’s ‘torture-porn’ Saw movies today. They were dangerous not simply because of the stories they might contain – the romantic expressions of wish-fulfillment, for example, that led Emma Bovary down the garden path of adultery – but also because reading itself was seen as a kind of possession: an encroachment of the ‘other’ upon the self.”

So lighten up and stop worrying so much. Instead take out the popcorn, enjoy the show and savour the villainy!