What was the difference between Infinity War and Age of Ultron? Why was one shocking and fantastic while the other was shallow entertainment? The producers didn’t recast half the Avengers or cross more fingers when Infinity War hit theaters. But, where Age of Ultron was predictable, Infinity War was riveting. Where Age of Ultron was funny, Infinity War was impactful and humorous (props to the writers).
So, why was Infinity War a winner? I could list several reasons, but probably the most pivotal is the villain. Thanos cohered a ridiculously large movie, whereas Ultron seemed more like a ploy to assemble the Avengers than any conflict worth watching. A three-dimensional villain will pull your novel together and act as a centering antithesis for your hero, but a poor one will simply devour a reader’s time at the library.
Authors tend to assume that crafting epic villains hinges upon the powers they possess. Give Thanos the Infinity Stones and you’re off to the races. But the Infinity Stones don’t shape Thanos as a person. Developing a great villain is a task that requires delicate balance. Hopefully these tips will steer you down the path to meet someone ready to kidnap you.
Write from the Villain’s POV
Many people will tell you that a villain is supposed to be the hero of his own story and believe he’s acting rightly. That’s not necessarily bad advice, but it’s not exactly helpful either. What does that look like? How do you apply it?
The easiest strategy is to spend time writing from your villain’s perspective. Even if you won’t use the material in your novel, you’ll start to process the world through your villain’s eyes and learn all the details about him that you need—his thoughts, his favorite phrases, his food preferences. You might discover he has a sense of humor or encounter his best friend. You’ll come to understand his motivations, and if you linger in his POV long enough, you might observe how those motivations change. He’ll become a person in your mind, not just a villain. Once that happens, you’ll depict him more compellingly, whether you’re in his POV or not.
In Infinity War, we get glimpses of Thanos’s perspective—Titan prior to its destruction, tears for Gamora before Thanos claims the soul stone, and his horrendous, enraging smile as the sun sets on the day. These POV-like scenes establish who the villain is. In some situations, like a first-person novel, delving into the villain’s POV won’t work, but it’s still a worthwhile exercise, if only to understand your villain more deeply before you write key scenes.
Give the Villain Relatable Flaws
Villains are expected to be evil, conniving, and occasionally straight-up sadistic. Nobody can deny that Thanos was sinister. But real, compelling villains have real, compelling issues. For a villain to grab your reader’s attention, you need to show him wrestling with a relatable, high-stakes issue.
Ultron had to protect the humans from themselves, so he tried to kill everybody. But none of us have ever been tasked with safeguarding the entire human population, so we can’t empathize. We might be able to imagine the stress of such a job, but we don’t truly know what it feels like.
Thanos had the same goal, you argue. He wanted to save the universe from itself. But that wasn’t his only problem. He warred with regret that he didn’t save Titan. He struggled with the decision to abandon something he loved to earn something he needed to accomplish his mission. That’s relatable and compelling.
How can you find compelling issues for your villain to grapple with? Start with your own faults. Have you struggled with depression, anger, or crippling doubt? Snapped at someone because life was rubbing at you that day? Forgotten an important occasion or hurt a friend? These are the types of flaws your villain should embody.
Let the Villain Rescue the Cat
A villain who is evil for the sake of evil will be boring. He needs an incentive, and readers need to see him being the good guy in another realm before they believe his rationale is more than an outpouring of his clichéd, wicked heart.
“Saving the cat” refers to the idea that a character should do an unnecessary and kind deed to earn the reader’s trust early in the story. This tactic is usually applied to antiheroes and Scrooge-type characters, but it can extend to villains as well.
Ultron didn’t rescue the cat. He and his Iron Legion could have helped humanity by escorting elderly couples across the road or filtering water for orphans in Africa. Instead, he immediately tried to annihilate everything because that’s what evil people (robots?) do.
In contrast, Thanos’s motivation was punctuated by cat-saving moments. He witnessed overpopulation toppling Titan, and that drove him to keep the rest of the universe from that fate. While he pursued his grisly goal, he adopted an orphan and raised her as his own daughter. Though he was a terrible father, he at least made an effort, and in the end he cried. Gamora was his cat, and his sorrow revealed that, at some point, he must have had a soul.
The Power of a Compelling Villain
I can’t pronounce doom on your story if it lacks a compelling villain, but that wouldn’t be far from the truth. Without an imposing villain, your hero will seem weak and won’t have a foil to clash against. If your villain is flat, your hero will seem flat too. If your villain is a plot device instead of a character, your book will seem stilted and contrived. Your story might be good like Age of Ultron but not magnificent like Infinity War.
Write a captivating villain, and readers will be more than willing to root against (or secretly for) him.
“Well, I’m back.” The emotion those words spark in Lord of the Rings fans across the world perfectly describes how Brandon feels on a daily basis when he finishes writing. His fictional worlds, where the suns never set and Rutel is Servant-Lord of the Sky, leave him wanting more…but unfortunately life is still a thing. When Brandon can’t hang out in Faërie, he fills his time with normal mortal things like work, friends, (oxford commas) and family. He enjoys backyard football (or any sport), board games, English country dancing, and reading. He doesn’t particularly enjoy (but still spends time) driving, doing math, and waiting for YouTube ads to end.
Brandon enjoys writing-related-but-still-not-actually-writing activities including critiquing, outlining, and updating his blog, The Woodland Quill. Some of his favorite books (there are too many to list) are The 100 Cupboards by N.D. Wilson, Look and Live by Matt Papa (warning: nonfiction), and Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie. (Due to his Lord of the Rings reference at the beginning of this blurb, he’s not going to bring that pinnacle of literary genius up again, although he probably should and sort of just did.)
Brandon lives on the Nebraska plains, where the people don’t actually live in teepees but do plant as much corn as the stereotypes suggest. His wonderful family keeps him somewhat grounded in reality, his friends keep his extroverted personality from imploding while he’s writing, and his ice cream keeps him…happy.
Poor ice cream.