Writing Wednesdays
Writing a Great Villain
By Steven Pressfield
Published: May 31, 2017
The easiest villain to write is the external villain. The Alien. The shark in Jaws. The Terminator. Doc Ock, Bane, Immortan Joe. Or force-of-nature villains—the volcano in Volcano, the oncoming Ice Age in The Day After Tomorrow, the Mayan-prophecy-end-of-the-world in 2012.

The villain in “ALIEN: Covenant.” Can we do better?
External villains present existential threats to our physical existence. These sonsofbitches will kill you, eat you, freeze you, boil you.
The problem with external villains, though they may occasionally deliver bestseller sales and boffo box office, is they don’t often bring out the best in the stars who must confront them.
Why? Because the stars only have to duel these villains on one level (and the most superficial level, at that): the physical.
Much higher on the Villain Food Chain are
- Societal villains.
- Interior villains.
The villain in Huckleberry Finn, To Kill A Mockingbird, In the Heat of the Night and many, many others down to The Hurricane, Precious, and The Help, is racism.
Racism is a societal villain.
An individual character or characters may personify this antagonist in our narrative, as the jury or the mob or Bob Ewell did in Mockingbird. But the real villain is all-pervasive. It’s that cruel, ignorant, evil belief—”I have a right to dominate you because my skin is a different color than yours”—that exists only in men’s minds and hearts.
Societal villains are great villains, and they have produced great stars/heroes to confront them.
Do you remember The Way We Were? The Way We Were was a vehicle for two superstars in their prime, Robert Redford and Barbra Streisand, and it provided both of them with roles worthy of their peak power.
Who was the villain?
The villain, again, was societal. It was the ethno-racist belief that “Park Avenue” was different from “Brooklyn” and that people whose characters were formed in such environments—WASPy, athletic, born-golden Hubbell Gardiner and Jewish, striving, up-from-the-streets Katie Morosky—could never truly come together.

Barbra Streisand and Robert Redford in “The Way We Were”
The chasm between them because of their ethnicities and the different worlds they grew up in was so vast that it could not be bridged even by a great love.
The villain wins in the end of The Way We Were.
But the battle against this antagonist—the passionate, complex, tragic struggle by Katie and Hubbell to maintain their love—is an epic, world-class throwdown, with layer upon layer of emotional and psychological depth. The clash with this villain was worthy of two superstars.
The stars made the roles, but the villain made the stars.
The third type of villain, and the most satisfying dramatically, is the interior villain.
The interior villain is inside the star herself.
Karen Blixen’s need to “possess” the things she loves.
Hamlet’s inability to make up his mind and act.
Gatsby’s dream of recapturing a past that never really existed.
External villains exist as metaphors. The Alien represents … what? Pure evil? Death? Pitiless fate?
But interior villains show us the demons you and I really deal with in our real lives—the crazy shit inside our skulls.
Silver Linings Playbook made stars out of Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence.
One reason: a great villain.

“So think about that dance thing.” Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence in “Silver Linings Playbook.”
The villain in Silver Linings Playbook is interior. It exists inside Bradley Cooper’s head. The villain is his obsession, fueled by his bipolar disorder, with winning back his wife Nikki, whom he has alienated by his extravagant behavior in the past.
This villain is in every scene of the movie, from first to last.
PAT (BRADLEY COOPER)
[Nikki and I] have a very unconventional chemistry. It
makes people feel awkward, but not me. Alright? She’s the
most beautiful woman I’ve ever been with. It’s electric between
us! Okay, yeah, we wanna change each other, but that’s normal,
couples wanna do that. I want her to stop dressing like she
dresses, I want her to stop acting so superior to me, okay?
And she wanted me to lose weight and stop my mood swings,
which both I’ve done. I mean, people fight. Couples fight. We
would fight, we wouldn’t talk for a couple of weeks. That’s
normal. She always wanted the best for me.
TIFFANY (JENNIFER LAWRENCE)
Wow.
PAT
She wanted me to be passionate and compassionate.
And that’s a good thing. You know? I just, look, I’m my
best self today and I think she’s her best self today, and
our love’s gonna be fucking amazing.
TIFFANY
It’s gonna be amazing, and you’re gonna be amazing,
and she’s gonna be amazing, and you’re not gonna be that
guy that’s gonna take advantage of a situation without
offering to do something back. So think about that
dance thing.
See the villain in there? It’s in every word and it’s more terrifying than the Alien and the Predator and the Monsters of the Id from Forbidden Planet. This demon will devour not just Bradley’s soul but Jennifer’s too if it can, and it’s in every cell in Bradley’s body, as invisible to him as water is to a fish swimming in it.
What a hero Bradley will be if he can somehow, either alone or aided by Jennifer, see the real love that’s staring him in the face and recognize this Nikki-self-delusion for the monster it is—and change himself.
Spoiler alert: he does.
That’s a hero.
That’s a star.
(And count Jennifer too, because she’s fighting the same villain.)
What made that star was the scale and depth of the villain he (and she) had to fight.
Posted in Writing Wednesdays
13 Comments
The Legend of Bagger Vance
Memorable . . . a page-turner . . . golf played a foot from Alice's looking glass, with mystical realms poised to engulf the reader at every turn . . . Bagger Vance is a success, climbing to an uplifting conclusion on a well-constructed scaffold of suspense.
Golf and mysticism . . . a dazzler and a thought-provoker.
In the Depression year of 1931, on the golf links at Krewe Island off Savannah's windswept shore, two legends of the game, Bobby Jones and Walter Hagen, meet for a mesmerizing thirty-six-hole showdown. Another golfer will also compete—a troubled local war hero, once a champion, who comes with his mentor and caddie, the mysterious Bagger Vance. Sage and charismatic, it is Vance who will ultimately guide the match, for he holds the secret of the Authentic Swing. And he alone can show his protégé the way back to glory.
[This first passage is from the book's very beginning.]
A NOTE TO THE READER
In May of 1931 an exhibition match was held over 36 holes between the two greatest golfers of their day, Walter Hagen and Robert Tyre "Bobby" Jones, Jr. The match was the second and last between the two immortals (Hagen shelled Jones, 12 and 11 over 72 holes, at the first in Sarasota, Florida in 1926.) This second match was held at what was, at the time, the most costly and ambitious golf layout ever built in America, the Links at Krewe Island, Georgia.
Much has been written about the rather odd events of that long day. We have Grantland Rice's dispatches to the New York Tribune, which were published at that time. The notes and diaries of O.B. Keeler devote several quite absorbing pages to the match. And of course the reports from the dozens of newspapers and sporting journals which covered the event.
One aspect of that day, however, has been largely overlooked, or rather treated as a footnote, an oddity or sideshow. I refer to the inclusion in the competition, at the insistence of the citizens of Savannah, of a local champion, who in fact held his own quite honorably with the two golfing titans.
I was fortunate enough to witness that match, aged ten, from the privileged and intimate vantage of assisting the local champion's caddie. I was present for many of the events leading up to the day, for the match itself, as well as certain previously unrecorded adventures in its aftermath.
For many years, it has been my intention to commit my memory of these events to paper. However, a long and crowded career as a physician, husband, and father of six has prevented me from finding the time I felt the effort deserved.
In candor, another factor has made me reluctant to make public these recollections. That is the rather fantastical aspect of a number of the events of that day. I was afraid that a true accounting would be misinterpreted or, worse, disbelieved. The facts, I feared, would either be discounted as the product of a ten-year-old's overactive imagination or, when perceived as the recollections of a man past seventy, be dismissed as burnished and embellished reminiscences whose truth has been lost over time in the telling and retelling.
The fact is, I have never told this story. Portions I have recounted to my wife in private; fragments have been imparted on specific occasion to my children. But I have never retold the story, to others or even to myself, in its entirety.
Until recently, that is. Attempting to counsel a troubled young friend, for whom I felt the tale might have significance, I passed an entire night, till sunrise, recounting the story verbally. It made such a profound impression on my young friend that I decided at last to try my hand at putting it down in written form.
This volume is that attempt.
I have chosen, for reasons which will become apparent, to tell the tale much as I recounted it that night. It is a story of a type of golfer, and a type of golf, which I fear has long since vanished from the scene. But I intend this record not merely as an exercise in reminiscence or nostalgia. For the events of that day had profound and far-reaching consequences on me and on others who participated, particularly the local champion referred to above.
His name was Rannulph Junah, and Bagger Vance was his caddie.
Hardison L. Greaves, M.D.
Savannah, Georgia
May, 1995
"The Legend of Bagger Vance is such an entertaining book on the surface you hardly realize you are being taught some of life's greatest truths. Pressfield has seamlessly brought together that rare combination of fun and enlightenment in a novel that seems destined to take its place alongside some of the great works in golf literature."
"The Legend of Bagger Vance is quite simply the best golf novel I have ever read, but it is so much more than that. We all know that the true game is played against one's inner self. Steven Pressfield has captured the essence of that battle better than any of his predecessors. I was utterly riveted by this work of art, and literally covered with goose bumps for many hours until I had finished it at a single sitting."
"Truly a delight. Even now when I play in professional tournaments I think of the positive effect Bagger Vance had on everyone associated with him. He will be with me for many years to come."
"Pure magic! I read it straight through in one sitting. It should be required reading for anyone who loves the game and has a sense of its history and mystery."
"The Field of Dreams of golf . . . the only golf novel ever written that earns 'couldn't put it down' accolades. This is a book that will remain with readers for a while, and will certainly emerge every time they step on a golf course."
"Memorable . . . a page-turner . . . golf played a foot from Alice's looking glass, with mystical realms poised to engulf the reader at every turn . . . Bagger Vance is a success, climbing to an uplifting conclusion on a well-constructed scaffold of suspense."
"Good stuff . . . a philosophical fantasy imagined on a golf course, heavy with fog, storm, fireworks and howling winds of supernatural forces."
"Golf and mysticism . . . a dazzler and a thought-provoker."






















