There's a concept in media called the stock episode, which is basically an episode of a series
where the whole premise is based on a highly specific recurring trope. For instance, many
series have the die hard episode, where the hero's base is compromised by bad guys and they have to
sneak through the vents. Or the egg baby episode, where a character has to take care of an egg or a
flour sack like it's a baby - or the color-coded copies episode where one character is split into
two or more versions of themself, sometimes but not always with different personalities.
These stock episodes are usually hilariously specific, and are often full-episode parodies
or homages to other popular media - like the die hard episode, the gremlins parody episode where
a cute pet turns into a monster when you void the warranty, the fantastic voyage episode, etc.
Now like all tropes, stock episodes run the risk of becoming boring with overexposure. But stock
episodes can also provide a fun opportunity for characterization - if the audience is already
familiar with the scenario, it can still be fun to see characters we like react to it and
play it out. The immense popularity of alternate universe fanfic demonstrates that pretty handily;
if we already like the cast, we're gonna like seeing them play out a familiar plot,
and it almost doesn't matter what that plot IS. Some stock episodes also let the characters
show off a little by putting them in scenarios they generally don't deal with - for instance,
it's a pretty common stock episode for one of the characters to get sick and need help,
and we get to see how the rest of the cast handle that, which can be fun and heartwarming.
Or there's the stock episode where some of the cast ends up stuck in an enclosed space, like a
cave-in or a broken elevator, and we see how they deal with that kind of stress and ticking clock.
Now there's one kind of stock episode that really leans into that potential, and it's the greatest
fear episode. In this stock episode, our heroes are forced to confront their greatest fears,
usually by way of some kind of psychic attack or manifest nightmare. The greatest fear episode is a
one-two punch of character development - first it tells us what the character fears most, which is a
juicy bit of characterization; and then it shows them confront it, which is a cool badass thing
for them to do. It also makes an easy halloween episode if you're running low on ideas. *cough*
Now the greatest fear episode has two key components. One:
it shows at least one of our heroes' greatest fears. And two: it shows them overcome it.
These episodes are frequently named something like "Nothing To Fear" or "Fear Itself",
and the name is pretty on-the-nose - the moral of this episode is always that fear is just a
passing thing and the hero can overcome or work through it. This plot has a lot going for it,
but its number one benefit is it reveals an otherwise hidden core element of the
character. People tend to mostly define characters by their core motivation, which is basically what
the character moves towards over the course of the story. But it's equally effective characterization
to show us what they're running away from. Their character motivation is a positive drive that
gives us an insight into their priorities and goals, but if you show us what repels them,
it accomplishes the same thing in reverse. A character might be motivated by vengeance and
grit, but if their greatest fear is something like losing their new found family, that gives
us an insight that deepens their character in a surprisingly heartwarming way. Their stated
motivation is revenge, but the thing they'll fight hardest to stop is losing their loved ones.
Or maybe the sweet, happy-go-lucky character has a really dark and scarring greatest fear,
showing us that there's some very unhappy hidden depths under the friendly façade - they move
towards happiness and fun, but they're running from something very unpleasant. This can also
add depth to characters who maybe have kind of vague motivations, like superheroes who
generally fight for generic good ends without much in the way of personal motivation. But that hero
might fear losing control of their abilities and destroying everything they've tried to protect,
or having the last of their humanity stripped away and becoming something cold and alien - or
even just fear itself if they're afraid of losing emotional control. These fears are both concerning
and very personal. A generic motivation can be counterbalanced by this kind of personal fear.
And more than just a motivation, fear itself is a very useful concept to explore. Fear is primal,
overwhelming, and very difficult to resist. Fearlessness is seen as an admirable trait,
but most people agree that a healthy degree of fear is useful to avoid becoming reckless.
Some people are ashamed of fear, and try to deny being afraid, and the greatest fear episode often
ends up confronting that head-on - a character needs to acknowledge their own fear in order to
overcome it. But some stories aren’t so kind. Sometimes, instead of the person overcoming the
fear, the fear wins instead. This is popular in horror stories like today’s sponsor, The Magnus
Archives! In this kind of horror, fear isn’t just an emotion - it’s a powerful malevolent force that
you feed by fearing it, and the things it can do when it’s strengthened are, appropriately,
terrifying. But more on that later - for now let’s stick to more light-hearted greatest fears!
Now while I think the greatest fear reveal can be great for character development, it doesn't
always get used that way. Sometimes the greatest fear reveal just reinforces already-established
motivations - like if the hero wants to stop the bad guy's evil plan, their greatest fear might be
failing to do that and seeing the villain wreak havoc instead. Or the hero trying to save the
world has the greatest fear that they can't. This is just kind of a reiteration of their
original motivation, but more glass half-empty. "I want to accomplish Goal A, and my greatest
fear is that I won't be able to accomplish Goal A." That's fine, but not all that revelatory.
And sometimes the greatest fear reveal is… played more like a joke. This is more common with
characters whose greatest fears are, like, normal phobias. One of our heroes is wrestling with the
existential terror that they'll never be strong enough to protect their loved ones, and meanwhile
the other one is… scared of clowns. It's just kinda weak. Doesn't give us character insight, it
just makes them seem silly. And sometimes that's the point - it's not uncommon for the big, strong
character to turn out to be afraid of ghosts or bugs or something, which is like, ha ha, not so
tough NOW, huh? But it doesn't quite hit that same emotional depth as a really good greatest fear.
Every character has a nucleus of core character traits. Like if you have to do an elevator pitch
to explain them in three sentences or less, these are the things you include first. Let's
do a quick example - "Superman is a paragon hero who believes in upholding truth and justice using
his godlike power as responsibly as he can. He's considered an ideal of heroism and hope,
and in most versions he doesn't kill because on some level he worries that crossing that line will
make it too easy for him to start crossing every line. Despite his godlike power making it kind
of unnecessary for him to maintain his Clark Kent secret identity, Superman's humanity is extremely
important to him, because there are too many ways he could lose it." This is one way to quickly
summarize some key elements of Superman's character. We've got a base personality,
a general motivation, a role he plays in his story and world, a few principles he holds himself to,
etcetera. These are foundational character qualities. Character dynamics, later developments,
episodic motivations, surface-level personality traits - those are just icing. This is real
base the character's built on. And the greatest fear is a base trait that often goes overlooked.
Now while I've suggested the greatest fear is kind of an equal and opposite to the character's stated
motivation, that's actually not entirely true. The greatest fear's equal and opposite is the heart's
desire. It's what the character wants more than anything regardless of realism or attainability,
and, rather like the greatest fear, the character might not even know what it is.
Most characters don't really introspect that much, and they can often end up blindsided by their own
greatest fear or desire. The character whose motivation is to save the world over and over
again might actually want a quiet, domestic life with their loved ones. The character seeking dark,
self-destructive vengeance just wants to be reunited with the people they lost. Etc etc. While
a character is aware of their own motivation, these are aspects of their character they might
not even know about. And that brings us to another strength of this trope - introspection inducement.
See, most people don't really…… know themselves very well. Sure, they have an ego and a
self-image, but it's naturally very biased by how they WANT to see themselves and how they've been
TAUGHT to see themselves, because that's… just how people work. And anyone else's image of this
person is also gonna be biased by that observer's individual worldview and relationship to them.
There's really no such thing as an objective image of anyone's character. The way someone describes
themself can sound pretty unfamiliar to anyone who knows that person, because their respective images
are biased in different ways and thus don't line up. And what the person thinks their priorities
or noteworthy traits are don't always line up with what they actually are. Some of the kindest, most
compassionate people I know think they're absolute messes who are constantly hurting people, and I've
known some real jerks who think of themselves as the second coming of christ. There's always a
disparity, and it takes a lot of introspection to really get any sort of feel for how you work and
what your fundamental priorities are, rather than who you think you're supposed to be.
But you know what'd make that introspection easier? If some dreamweaving nightmare-beast
manifested in your house and dumped you into a hallucination that flat-out told
you what your actual greatest fear was. You thought you were scared of being weak,
but you were ACTUALLY terrified of losing your friends! Surprise! This is the kind
of thing that forces a character to introspect. See, characters differ from real people in one
key way - they're a lot less complicated, and the audience generally has a pretty clear view
of who they actually are. Now, just like with real people, everyone's interpretation of the
character is going to be biased in its own unique way, and sometimes you might look at someone's
fanfic version or lengthy thinkpiece and wonder if you even watched the same show because the
character they saw and the character you saw seem to have nothing in common - but all that aside,
a character's core nature is usually pretty obvious. While real people can be nearly
infintely complex, a fictional character is usually built from a small handful of simple,
obvious traits. This one is a stoic vigilante with a dark past and a strong personal honor code. This
one is a warrior with a self-destructive hero complex who needs to find her self-worth. This
one is a total narcissist who pits people against each other to manipulate them. And because it's
easy for an audience to get a read on these characters, it's also easy for us to see when
they're in denial about themselves. The annoying lancer character who acts like they're the hero;
the well-meaning protagonist who's using the "greater good" as a justification to
self-destructively spiral; the villain who is convinced they're the good guy.
We want these characters to introspect so they can actually get a clue and stop
self-destructing - or just get some commupence, which can be fun too.
So this is one of many tropes that involves a character confronting a part of themselves
they might not like - or even know about. This is great for character development - it
shows the audience a side of this character they might not have seen, and it also shows
the character that side of themself, which can help them introspect and develop - or,
if they're a villain, it can help them appealingly self-destruct. Broadly, it's really good for
adding depth to a character by adding a new dimension to the fundamental core traits.
Of course, the premise of this episode is inherently kind of contrived. Characters
don't tend to volunteer their core character concepts, and if they don't already know their
greatest fear, how are we supposed to see it? This is where the episode's antagonist comes in. See,
there's a staple villain archetype - the living nightmare. These dudes specialize in leveraging
the fear of their victims. Maybe they can physically manifest nightmares, maybe they just
have an intuitive psychic understanding of what'll scare their enemy most, but the most common
version of this character has the simple ability to force their victims into their worst nightmare,
by way of a coma, a hallucination, etcetera. This version is popular because, among other things,
it kinda protects the status quo. Your hero is just stuck in a bad dream - lots of really
nasty things can happen in that dream, but all they have to do to fix it is wake up. A nice,
clean win condition with none of the cleanup that a real physical nightmare would involve.
And with the status quo sufficiently insulated, the writer is free to put their character through
the absolute wringer. And that's good for the audience, because it's very dramatic.
It's not good for the character, but, you know. That's not really the point.
That's not to say these stories are stakes-free. Sometimes if you die in the dream you die for
real, or the hallucinated nightmare can actually hurt you as long as you think it's real.
The purpose of this stock episode is character exploration and drama, and you can't really have
drama without some kinda stakes. But honestly, the stakes are usually the same - if they don't
overcome their fear, with or without help, they'll be trapped in the nightmare until they die. Pretty
standard, pretty simple. These episodes don't carry themselves on the threat of death - it's
just the infrastructure to justify focusing on the nightmare itself. Defeat the nightmare to not die.
Not dying is the goal, so defeating the nightmare is the thing we get invested in.
And that justifies spending the entire rest of the episode firmly in the character development zone.
By the way, this isn't the only way to frame this kind of episode. In fact, some of them
explicitly hide the framing. If the audience doesn't know it's a nightmare from the get-go,
the show can instead show us some really crazy status-quo-breaking events, like major character
deaths or plot twists, leaving the audience going all "What? Huh? What??" as we watch everything
spiral out of control - until the character either jolts awake and realizes it was all a dream,
or we cut to an outside perspective where we see their concerned loved ones expositing how,
if the character doesn't wake up from whatever horrible nightmare they're
experiencing… they'll die. Different order of operations, same result - we spend most
of the episode in the nightmare zone watching how the characters handle this unprecedented
turn of events. Since that's the meat of this plot, that's where we point the camera.
So, we've got our stakes set, and we've got our focus character confronting their greatest fear
in some kind of battle in the center of the mind. How does this go? Well, it varies a lot
from character to character - this part is a lot less formulaic than the framing sequence.
There's an episode of Justice League that I think is worth highlighting here, because
it covers a lot of ground for this trope in one convenient place. The two-parter episode is called
Only A Dream, and the premise is that some rando gets dream-powers, starts calling himself Doctor
Destiny, and decides to live out his life's ambition of defeating the justice league by
trapping them all in nightmares, the stress from which will eventually kill them. Superman,
Green Lantern, Flash and Hawkgirl are all trapped in nightmares, while Batman and the Martian
Manhunter are still awake but have to find a way to help them before it's too late. Wonder Woman's…
on vacation or something, I dunno, she's not in this episode. So Batman runs off to hunt down
Doctor Destiny - while stoically struggling with the fact that he hasn't slept in like three days,
because of course he hasn't - and J'onn attempts to psychically help out his trapped teammates
despite the risk of getting trapped in their dreams himself. So those two are racing the clock
and showing some pretty commendable badassery - but meanwhile the four sleeping leaguers are
getting some dramatic character insights. For instance, the Flash's nightmare starts
off kinda silly - he's watching himself on TV with a crew of rambunctious youngsters,
in line with his goofy childlike personality. The dream takes a slight turn when the kids all
grow sharp teeth and try to eat him, but he's the flash. He outruns them. Except that's the trick.
In his dream, he can't slow down. The world freezes around him and loses all its color,
and the funny, gregarious Flash faces the possibility that he's going to live
out the rest of his life surrounded by people but completely alone, trapped by his own super-speed.
Possibly more alarming, Flash happily mentions that he's been having this dream ever since he
got his powers. Not only is this his greatest fear, it's always on his mind - the happy,
chipper Flash is constantly afraid of getting stuck in high gear. The only difference is, this
time, thanks to Doctor Destiny, he can't wake up. So! Flash isn't having a good time. How about the
others? Well, Superman is having a lovely dream where he's on a date with Lois - except then his
heat vision switches on and burns a hole in his menu. Uh oh! Wacky hijinks! Superman is always
having to hide his powers from Lois. Except this time… he also burns up Lois. Well, that's… not
fun. Throughout the dream, all of his powers grow exponentially, and his uncontrollable strength
accidentally kills Jimmy Olsen. On screen. Superman's greatest fear is that, since he started
with no powers, and his current powers are already incredibly strong, will he eventually reach the
point where he can't control them at all? And if that happens, will he end up killing everyone and
everything he's tried to protect? Superman already feels like he lives in a world made of cardboard.
Could he handle a world made of wet tissue paper? Meanwhile, Green Lantern's nightmare is a little
more existential. He's back in his home neighborhood, but… everyone seems
scared of him. And when they talk, he can't understand them - even the billboards and signs
are incomprehensible. He's become something alien and unfamiliar without even noticing. I mean,
he is bonded to an alien energy source - it's a reasonable anxiety for him to have. The
green lantern energy even physically burns through his body. He's clearly afraid that
his alien power might be eating away at his humanity - that becoming a vessel for this
kind of power means he's no longer himself. Compared to that, Hawkgirl's nightmare is
almost basic. She's extremely claustrophobic, so she just ends up stuck in a coffin and buried
alive. I mean… it's scary, but it's not very revelatory. But there's actually a narrative
reason for that. See, this happens early on in season two - and it's not until the season finale
that we actually learn anything about Hawkgirl's backstory and true motivation, and they're massive
spoilers. At this point in the story, showing us anything deeper about her characterization
would risk blowing that reveal early. Plus, the simple fear works quite well in context,
because Hawkgirl has demonstrated herself to be a very badass brawler, and in the beginning of
this very episode pulls a seriously fearless move when one of the bad guys grabs her and orders her
to fly him out of the fight or he'll kill her. Instead she flies him four hundred feet straight
up and tells him if he makes good on his threat, he'll drop forty stories. She doesn't care at all.
With this kind of stoic, unblinking badassery as our context for her character, the fact that
something as simple as claustrophobia can scare her this much is revelatory all on its own.
Everyone's afraid of something. She's not scared of her own abilities or a general existential
dread - the only thing that really scares her is so basic and primal she can't do anything
about it. In a way it's a basic fear that's not very revelatory, but from another perspective,
the simplicity of the fear is very revelatory. And even though they end up getting some psychic
help, the characters still overcome their fears individually. J'onn asks Superman to trust him
to help, which cuts to the heart of his fear - Superman was afraid he was unstoppable just
because he couldn't stop himself, and sometimes he needs to be reminded he's on a team. J'onn
reminds Green Lantern that the ring chose him because of who he was, and thus it's his tool,
not the other way around - and Lantern dives into the power source to get the boost he needs to kick
the bad guy out of his head. And for Flash, he just tells him to "look within", which helps
Flash calm down enough to listen to his own racing heartbeat and gradually slow it down. J'onn just
provides a sanity check and some moral support - everyone still overcomes their own fear. Except
for Hawkgirl cuz her brain has psychic shielding. So everyone's fears reveal something interesting
about their character. And it's also interesting to note that the two characters who we don't
see the fears of - Batman and Martian Manhunter - are the ones whose fears are already established.
J'onn's easiest phobia is his vulnerability to fire and his fears are mostly about how
he lost his family and entire planet. Batman is… well, batman. Fear is kind of his thing. I mean,
he deals with Scarecrow on like a biweekly basis. We don't need to see their darkest
fears to understand their deal - instead we get to see other facets of their characters.
J'onn subverts his own general stoicism and demonstrates his deep compassion for his
teammates by risking everything to save them from their nightmares, and Batman gets to show off his
unrelenting determination by powering through an extremely sleep-deprived worknight to track down
the bad guy in question and keep him out of his head through sheer force of will. All in all,
a great showcase of everyone's characters to a level of depth we don't often see.
This is the kind of fun character exploration we can get from this kind of episode. We
see the characters vulnerable in a way they don't generally deal with,
and we get to see how they handle that. Or… we… make jokes about clown phobias for an episode.
I dunno, man, it's always disappointing when this trope doesn't get leveraged. In fact,
it's not just disappointing - the most common other way for this episode to go is that a
hitherto unmentioned phobia is suddenly brought up as belonging to one of the protagonists, and
the rest of the cast usually kinda roasts them for it. And when that happens, the audience is usually
directed to sympathize with the roasters, not the roast-ee, cuz… ha ha, who's afraid of clowns? Or…
bugs? Now, the inherently cruel nature of mocking someone's deep-seated phobia aside, this very
specifically takes us out of the character's head. Instead of empathizing, we're meant to
see them from an outside perspective where their fear looks ridiculous or funny. But since the main
strength of this trope is deep introspective character insight, putting us firmly outside
the character's head for the purposes of pointing and laughing is sidestepping the entire benefit of
this episode structure. And even if we see the character heroically overcome their fear, that
victory is kinda diminished by the fact that we were supposed to think the fear was silly anyway.
So a character's greatest fear can be great for character development. And beyond this basic
episode structure, the core of this trope can be used in tons of contexts. Sometimes characters
psychically travel into another character's mind and get that sweet character development directly
by physically looking at their core character traits. Or a circumstance seems disproportionately
upsetting to a character because it taps into their deepest fear without directly stating it,
and instead it's gradually revealed through subtler context clues or character dynamics.
The greatest fear is a great facet of character development - this episode format is just the
simplest way to explore it. So… yeah!