Marvin took standard Dragnet comments and presented them in fresh ways. He somehow drew Detective Friday into a fist fight (though it was somewhat unconvincing). Also, he was on the screen though almost all the show. That and the culprit's earning a trip to the gas chamber stand out as unique in all my Dragnet viewing.
The character was a serial killer who was more angry about how society pumped up murder as something special than he was upset in any way by his victims. He barely cared about money he gained. He wasn't especially angry with them or envious. He didn't seem to be thrilled by the process of murder. And he didn't kill to get even or find justice.
I am not a fan of villains as forces of nature without motivation, but I was fascinated by this story, which played out in less than 20 minutes. Was this character just a killing machine with no human dimensions?
The episode contained some of the obligatory psychiatric tropes of the time -- a dream of victims and a report of dissociative behavior-- but I think the answer was away from the main plot. Instead of looking at the police working to put the story of a murder together and get their suspect to confess, the payoff was in murderer's interest in food.
He was always hungry and particular about what he ate. He even agreed to provide information on where a body was buried once they took him to a favorite, vegetarian restaurant. And he kept his promise, but much of the scene, which revealed a lot about the scope of his murders, was focused on appreciation of the food.
Here's the thing: he was as much wrapped up with sharing his eating experience and appreciation of the bread, the beets, etc., as he was with the murders and his disappointment that people got all that wrong. He could not connect with the importance others put on murder, but he was desperate to connect in a way he thought might work -- a good meal.
Trying to connect on that level with Friday and his partner -- on whom the trip to such an exotic and wonderful restaurant was wasted (both got cheese sandwiches) -- brought tragedy. The serial killer was truly isolated and alone, and he always would be.
Apocryphal story: Marvin was asked how he created such brilliant villains. His answer was that he never played a villain.
It is valuable to look to see how a story is catalyzed, what puts things in motion. For protagonists, that's all about finding the inciting incident (which can occur before the novel or movie begins, but often is in the first act). But it's valuable to see what puts villains in motion, too. What happened that made the antagonist behave in an antisocial way and, in particular, oppose the protagonist?
In the Dragnet episode, I have to presume the villain was so lonely he looked for connection through murder. This is subtle and difficult to portray unless you have a Lee Marvin at hand. But there are more accessible and more easily portrayed catalysts for villainous action.
Betrayal can set off an antagonist. Being turned into the police, left for dead, or not defended by a friend when insulted, slandered, or abused -- any of these can make a villain focus on revenge against an individual or that person's friends and relatives (no matter how innocent). Having a target be a sympathetic hero is usually enough, but, as I stated in the second post in this series, it's valuable to have the reaction by the villain be disproportionate. Make "making things right" go out of control.
Putting a scare into a character can turn one into a villain. None of us wants to lose what we value. A threat to power, in particular, can lead to bad behavior. History is littered with kings who executed (or had executed) potential claimants to the throne, including innocent children. But the cause can be as simple as having someone the villain imagines loves him or her show interest in the protagonist. Since the hero's success could draw away a loved one, the antagonist must take all steps necessary to make the hero fail.
Similarly, when a character will only feel complete if the treasure or person he or she wants in attained, the person who has it may be dehumanized and marked for destruction. The same thing is true if knowledge is a problem and the villain needs to hide his or her guilt. There's a Bible story that has both of these. Once King David got Uriah's wife pregnant, the soldier was marked by the King, which ultimately led to his death.
The prospect of defeat, especially when the villain sees his or her vulnerability, can push the character into unfair behavior, often expressed as "evening the odds" in a competition. I love it when the villain is the only one who sees and understands the great talent the hero has. A scene where the hero innocently reveals the talent and doesn't even realize he or she has done so -- and thus creates a formidable enemy -- can be a highlight in a story. And the superior position of the reader or audience can make that scene irresistible.
One more thing to explore -- the context of rousing the beast. If you create such a scene consider the following:
- How to make sure what happens is important to the villain and the readers/audience knows this.
- Not having the villain reveal him or herself. I like it when the antagonist does not appear to be powerful (like Uriah Heep in David Copperfield).
- If possible, use emotional triggers that have been established in the story or that are universal.
- Create more impact by setting it up with mood (comic relief can precede a catalytic event and double it's emotional effect) or setting (a betrayal on the antagonist's home grounds, say the family dinner table, or in a place with imagery, like a church).