(This is a fifth post in a six-part series on being funny in novels. To start at the beginning go here.)
We're going to let Mr. Perkins take a breather for this post and instead draw your attention to five famous YouTube clips. You've already seen them all, so I'm not going to embed them. I'll just list them below:
- Chocolate Rain
- Dave After Dentist
- Leave Britney Alone
- Bed Intruder
- Charlie Bit My Finger
All of these videos went viral in their day. Each one is unique, but all of them have the same thing in common: (1) The main character in the video does or says some incredibly funny things, and (2) they have absolutely no idea that what they are doing is, in fact, funny.
In the Antoine Dodson video ("We gone find you!"), Antoine is not joking -- his sister has nearly been raped, and he's mad as hell about it. There's nothing funny about the situation at all. What is funny is the manner in which he expresses his outrage and promises revenge on the would-be rapist.
In the Chris Crocker video ("Leave Britney Alone!") again, Chris is absolutely not being funny. He is distraught about the press and perceived harassment against Britney Spears, and his sympathy for her situation is palpable and sincere. What make this video funny is the level of emotional capital he has placed on a celebrity he's never met and his complete lack of hesitation in expressing it in extremely emotional terms.
Chocolate Rain is funny precisely because of the complete earnestness Tay Zonday exhibits in the course of playing his magnum opus.
And so on. You get the idea.
The fact is that people in real life sometimes say and do the funniest things when they are not feeling funny at all. Wry comments fueled by genuine anger are far funnier than wry comments fueled by the desire to appear clever. Creative name-calling becomes seemingly more creative when the name-caller is in the throes of their outrage at perceived betrayal. People in terrifying situations can find themselves making observations and comments which, if they were not in fear for their own lives, might make them laugh out loud.
Life inside the snowglobe isn't funny to the people inside. But it can be hilarious to the people on the outside looking in. And novelists are uniquely positioned to use this comedic dynamic to great effect.
Of course, you may be wondering whether laughter is appropriate in life-or-death situations. After all, if your hero or heroine is in mortal peril and they make a remark that amuses the reader, won't that break the spell? Won't that destroy the suspense and tension you've worked so hard to create? Won't that undercut the raw emotion in the scene?
Not necessarily. Fear and anger can work with laughter perfectly well. Take it from Steven Spielberg.
Do you remember the shark's first real appearance in Jaws? It may have been a while since you've seen it, so I'll give you a quick refresher.
For most of the movie, of course, we do not actually see the shark. In fact, it's not until our heroes have departed for sea (and been out there a while) that we see more than a dorsal fin. Some of this was intentional, and some of it was from the technical difficulties the film crew had with making the darn thing actually work. But when Bruce (yes, the film crew called him "Bruce") actually showed himself in all his sharkish glory, the movie theater audiences met him with a solid scream.
Here's the thing about that scream, though. Right before the shark pops out of the water behind the boat, Chief Brody makes a smart remark to the captain about his shark-chumming duties. His actual line is "Come on down here and chum some of this shit."
These days, the word "shit" would hardly get a response of any kind. But in 1975, such language was still fairly new in movies, and it had just enough shock value to make the audience laugh. The laughs turned into screams when the shark popped up immediately afterwards, and it was Spielberg's view that the laugh in fact helped power the scream that followed.
And we see plenty of other examples in movies as well. The entire Scary Movie franchise is built around mixing fear with comedy. Alfred Hitchcock got a famous laugh in the original Psycho when Norman Bates was ditching his victim's car in the swamp. The car was sinking, then stopped for a few uncomfortable moments, then resumed sinking, much to Norman's relief. The look on Norman's face when the car stopped sinking was comedic gold, and it did absolutely nothing to detract from the incredible tension the audience was feeling.
So don't be afraid of the funny, even in situations where the protagonist is feeling anything but. In fact, some of your protagonist's strongest negative emotions can present comedic opportunities.
People Say Funny Things When They're Angry.
When I was a wee lad, I used to take a city bus to choir practice in my hometown. One day, a woman got on the bus and couldn't produce the correct change. She tried to give the driver a bill, but he refused it. He let her take a seat anyway, but something in his attitude sparked her ire, and just before heading to her seat, she snapped at him with the following:
"I'm doing the best I can! Y'all don't take checks."
I couldn't help myself. I blurted out laughing.
"What's so funny?" she snapped, and stomped to her seat.
What was funny to me was the line she said in combination with the tension of the moment. The combination of her anger and the unexpected nature of the comment combined to make the line funnier than it would have been in any other situation.
People Say Funny Things When They're Scared.
"I hate snakes!" -- Indiana Jones, dangling above a snake pit in Raiders of the Lost Ark. 'Nuff said.
So don't be afraid of the funny.
In our next post, we'll wrap this up with a few tips for developing your funny bone as a novelist.
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