For Morality To Have Meaning, It Has To Show Up On The Page

When we design our characters, we tend to give them at least some basic morals. The more page time a character gets, and the more high-pressure the situations they're put into, the more their morality comes into play. However, a character's morality is kind of like their superpowers... if you don't actually see them at work, then it's kind of tough to take them on faith.

Which is why you need at least one establishing shot before the stakes get raised.

Come on, how many powers is this guy gonna pull out of his ass, huh?

For The Audience, Seeing is Believing

If you're a comic book fan, you could probably name a dozen characters off the top of your head who have some kind of code that dictates their actions. Characters like Batman and Daredevil, for example, make a big deal out of the fact that they don't kill people (in their traditional comics, anyway). But for the audience to really accept that as part of their characters, we've had to see it in action to establish this as part of the characters' canons... and to understand what it means when they look like they might break that rule.

And now, some context for why this is a serious moment.

For those who haven't read the comic, or watched any of the film/TV versions of the character, Matt Murdock was blinded by a strange chemical that enhanced all his other senses to superhuman degrees. Training himself to fight while putting himself through law school, Matt becomes an interesting dichotomy. On the one hand, he is a lawyer who fights for the rights of people in court, while on the other hand he's a vigilante who solves problems with his fists. He's a devout Catholic, but he dresses like the devil. He truly believes people can change, and that they can be better, but there comes a time when a hard line must be drawn in the sand.

The fact that Matt doesn't kill people, even people who have done more than enough to deserve it, is a big deal. It's played up time and time again through his stories, and it's one of his big rules... second only to the fact that he doesn't use guns, even though his enhanced senses would make him an unparalleled marksman with some training.

This is why, when we find Daredevil alone in a hospital room with one of his major villains Bullseye (who is completely helpless), and he's holding a gun, it immediately lets the reader know something has gone deeply wrong.

In the issue in question, Daredevil relates a story about a little boy who admired him for who he was, and what he did. How this boy tried to stand up for himself, and to protect others, but he did it by grabbing his dad's revolver, and killing someone. A death that Daredevil now feels is on his hands. And the gun he's holding is the very one that was used in the shooting earlier. Then, just to drive the point home about how dark the place he's gone is, he keeps randomly putting the barrel against Bullseye's head, and pulling the trigger. Time and again we get nothing but a click.

It's not until the end of the story that we realize the gun was empty that whole time. But watching a man dressed like the devil play Russian roulette with his arch-nemesis isn't what gives that story its impact... it's knowing how utterly outside the bounds of the character's morality this situation seems to be at first glance. And even once the truth is revealed, understanding that Daredevil has tiptoed right up to the line, and may have gone past the limit where he could look in the mirror and honestly say he's doing heroic things when he puts that mask on, leaves the reader a little shaken.

 

But without that context, it would just look like grim for the sake of grim, and it would have zero impact whatsoever.

Give Us An Establishing Shot

In order for a character's moral code to play into the story, you need to let the audience see it in action. Maybe it's the vigilante who stops a murderer from falling to his death because everyone needs to get their day in court. It might be a character who tries to talk someone down who's hurt them, or who is clearly dangerous. Even something small, like being understanding when something goes wrong while the lead is under pressure, gives the audience a glimpse into who this character is when the chips are down.

That way, later on, it informs our feelings about whether or not something is properly dramatic. Is our tough private eye who doesn't carry a gun willing to take the shot when it seems he has no other option to save an innocent bystander? Will our hero forgive someone who's wronged him so deeply, or will he cling to the grudge he's nurtured for so long? How far will the protagonist go, and what lines will they cross, to get what they want?

If we don't have any frame of reference for these questions before we hit that point in the story, then nothing they do is going to be shocking or impactful. It's like telling the punchline of a joke without the setup... confusing, and unlikely to get the reaction you were hoping for.

If You're Looking For An Example...

This is a conversation I had, at least in part, while I was writing Marked Territory. Because out protagonist, the Maine coon heavy Leo, seems like a pretty decent feline. He tries to help where he can, and he isn't afraid to throw down when it's over something that matters. But when he gets pushed, they realize too late that there comes a point where an alley cat is going to do what comes naturally... and that isn't pretty for anyone involved.

Seriously, if you don't have your copy yet, you should get one today!

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That's all for this week's Craft of Writing! For more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, or at My Amazon Author Page where you can find books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife, or my short story collection The Rejects!

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