BACKSTORY: How Much Baggage to Give Your Heroes and Villains

Have you ever been to a social gathering and started talking with a total stranger? When I first moved to Los Angeles and attended industry parties, almost everyone I struck up a conversation with would tell me their entire life story in the first ten minutes. Now, I’ve lived on the west coast for the last twenty-five years with absolutely no plans to ever move back east. Yet it always amazes me how professional storytellers, especially fellow screenwriters, have never figured out that “less is more, lest you bore,” when talking about yourself. The same can be said for your characters and their backstory.

Backstory makes your character real. It breathes life into them, giving them depth and dimension. But most of all, it builds mystery and suspense, no matter what particular genre you’re writing. Think of your character’s backstory as their secret identity – whether they wear a mask or not. By giving your reader only occasional glimpses of insight into who they really are, you are retaining the all-important mythical quality that cinematic personas require to keep an audience’s attention. And the way in which you share this background information is often as or more important than the information itself.

The greatest recent example of dynamic backstory for me is Heath Ledger’s “The Joker” as written by Christopher and Jonathan Nolan in THE DARK KNIGHT (2008). Over the course of the movie, the Joker holds several of his potential victims at knifepoint, and asks them, “Do you want to know how I got these scars?” In each instance, his backstory is different and more menacing than the last. Proving that the purpose of backstory need not always be to tell the reader literally who the character is but rather how they find out about them is the key to that character. I came away from THE DARK KNIGHT astounded at how The Joker’s “backstory” was utilized in such a way as to make him even more of an enigma than before I’d sat down in the theater.

Screenwriting has many advantages and more freedom than other forms of writing. For example, in prose writing you’re obligated from the start to tell your audience whether your story is fiction or non-fiction. But writing a script has no such limitations. You need look no further than the opening credits of Ethan and Joel Cohen’s FARGO where they explain to the audience the story they are about to see is based on a true story (it is not). No, the only hard and fast rule in screenwriting is never to bore your audience with too much information. And backstory, whether taking the form of endless flashbacks, or simply too much expositional dialogue, can kill the momentum of an otherwise amazing narrative faster than anything else.

When you’re attempting to write a fresh and original hero or villain in a script, it’s vital to deviate from classic archetypes by giving your audience contemporary reference points. This even applies when you’re writing a period piece movie, because if these characters aren’t doing something relevant to the world we live in today, then today’s audience have no real reason to connect with them and care about what happens in your story. Similarly, a screenwriter must impart enough of their character’s backstory to intrigue the reader yet not so much that you dispel all the suspense and excitement of getting to know them. How much you share and when is the critical formula to how well you will keep your reader engaged and want to keep reading to find out who exactly these characters are and why they act out the way they do.

Some of my all-time favorite cinematic characters have backstories that were told to the audience second-hand, by other characters. This is a time-tested narrative device for building mythic characters in your audience’s mind, often long before you see them on screen. Some classic examples of effective character backstory conveyed second-hand:

Talking about Charles Foster Kane in CITIZEN KANE:

Thompson: “I don’t think any word can explain a man’s life. No, I guess Rosebud is just a piece in a jigsaw puzzle—a missing piece.”

Discussing Harry Lime in THE THIRD MAN:

Holly Martins: “When he was 14, he taught me the three-card trick. That's growing up fast.”

Anna Schmidt: “He never grew up. The world grew up around him, that's all.”

In conversation, Captain Renault reveals Rick Blaine’s background in CASABLANCA:

Rick: “Louie, whatever gave you the impression that I might be interested in helping Laszlo escape?

Renault: “Because, my dear Ricky, I suspect that under that cynical shell, you're at heart a sentimentalist. Oh, laugh if you will, but I happen to be familiar with your record. Let me point out just two items. In 1935, you ran guns to Ethiopia. In 1936, you fought in Spain on the Loyalists' side.”

Rick: “And got well paid for it on both occasions.”

Renault: “The winning side would have paid you much better.”

Rick: “Maybe.”

Modern cinema is replete with scenes of characters telling other characters about characters they know or are about to meet. From SICARIO (“Alejandro was a prosecutor whose wife and daughter were killed by the Sanora Cartel. So he began working for anyone who would turn him loose…”) to UNFORGIVEN (“You'd be William Munny out of Missouri. Killer of women and children.”), to SILENCE OF THE LAMBS (“The doctors managed to reset her jaw more or less. Saved one of her eyes. His pulse never got above 85, even when he ate her tongue."). Hearing about a hero or villain’s backstory from another character is always more visceral to a reader and will stay in their mind far longer.

For the screenwriter who is stuck on how much backstory to share of their main character, I leave you with an exercise my old film school professor, Arthur Lithgow, once taught me and I’ve never forgotten: Imagine your main character is taking a short trip and needs to pack five personal items to take with them. Not stupid stuff like a toothbrush and soap but items they will need on their journey in your script.

Now, imagine someone at baggage claim picks up your character’s luggage by accident. What would that stranger be able to tell about them when they got home and opened their bag? Would it shock them? Excite them? Would it make them want to find the owner? Would they fall in love with them? Or, would the contents make them want to call the authorities, or run from them?

What would your hero or villain take with them on a weekender? Here’s a hint: What did dear Dr. Hannibal Lecter take with him on his flight from the law at the end of HANNIBAL, the movie? If you don’t remember or haven’t seen it, Hannibal the Cannibal packed his own lunch full of exotic delicacies, of course. This simple yet effective coda gets to the very essence of who the infamous villain really is, and thus making him more real for your audience. I’m sure it was catnip for Anthony Hopkins the actor portraying him, as well. Because backstory told in a fun and provocative way is enough to whet anyone’s appetite, especially a potential buyer.

Interested in learning how to write compelling characters? Join Jon James Miller on February 27, 2024, for his live webinar BACKSTORY: How Much Baggage to Give Your Heroes and Villains.