Short Film Showcase: 'Spider' Puts on a Tension and Release Clinic

Alfred Hitchcock has a great quote explaining the value of suspense in film.  I'll paraphrase a bit, but the gist is that you imagine two similar scenes.  In the first, two people are talking across from each other at a table when suddenly, in the middle of their conversation the table explodes.  The second scene is primarily the same except the camera reveals a bomb to be under the table before the people begin their conversation.  The point here, as Hitchcock so eloquently argued, is that in the first scene the director has you for fifteen seconds, but in the second, he has you for fifteen minutes.  The whole story is a fabulous way of describing tension in film, and while I believe he's mostly right, I think his anecdote wrongly undervalues the element of surprise.  The best suspense films, even those by Hitchcock, use a mix of both.  Nash Edgerton's short film, "Spider," streamlines the building and release of tension.

Before we really get into the meat of this film and spoil it, you really should watch it first.

Seriously, go watch it now.

Okay, you watched it?

First of all, I love this short. Director Nash Edgerton, stuntman and brother of the more famous Joel Edgerton, knows what his audience's expectations are and pokes them right in the eye, if you'll pardon the pun.  Some of my favorite details in this film are in the first few seconds.  From the very beginning, Edgerton shows the audience the bomb through a playful epigraph and stylized splintered glass graphics that half-explain the film's title.  Immediately, he puts the audience playfully on edge and foreshadows every surprise in such an oblique way that I'd be shocked if anyone guessed.  He's a cat toying with his prey.

Throughout the main characters' argument, we are waiting for something to happen, for the other shoe to drop.  As we wait, though, Edgerton sprinkles in some sweetly observed bits of character.  We are only with the couple for a few minutes, but we completely understand their dynamic.  The audience is fed only the most important information with laser-like precision.  We don't need to know frivolous details like what they are arguing about or where they are going.  The important thing is that he's an rakish doof desperately seeking forgiveness, and she's the begrudging softy willing to give him another chance.

Enough with character, though, the real draw here is the layers of tension and release Edgerton builds throughout the film's eight minute run-time.  He blows up a balloon before slowly letting out air several times before finally popping it...twice.  The balloon is inflated right away with the aforementioned title sequence which pushes the audience to expect something terrible.  The couple's argument could easily lead to an accident, but as the woman softens, some of the air is let out.  The spider prank seems like the obvious source of surprise, and it is, but the woman swerves and miraculously avoids all traffic.  A little more air is released, but he blows it up again when she jumps out of the car.  Then, he throws the spider and the balloon pops.  

Edgerton shocks us, but only with a predictable sort of surprise.  This is the real bit of genius in this short.  By building to that moment throughout the whole story, the audience is lulled  into a false sense of security when the horrible moment finally happens.  We are shocked, even though the outcome was telegraphed from a million miles away.  At this point, Edgerton could've ended the short and the audience would have left happy.  But he doesn't.  He throws in one more gruesome surprise that takes this fun little short to a completely memorable level.

This short film should be, and probably is, taught in film classes.  Very few filmmakers have this firm a grasp on how to build suspense.  Spielberg would have a hard time staging this any more effectively.  The real question is, would Hitchcock approve?  I think the answer would be an unreserved and emphatic "hell yes."