Everything I needed to know to run a pulp game, I learned from King Kong

This weekend, I had the pleasure of watching Peter Jackson's 3 hour epic, King Kong. While the movie was flawed in some respects, the pulp elements infusing the core of this movie were pulled off superbly. So superbly, in fact, that every pulp GM should take some of Peter Jackson's lessons to heart.

Over-the-top Action. The action has to be over-the-top. The PCs escaping an apatasaur stampede is good, but an apatasaur stampede through a narrow canyon that leads to a crumbling cliff, oh, and there are raptors chasing the apatasaurs is better. It's not just a little step further, it's a whole leap and a bound over the "ordinary" apatasaur stampede.

Real danger. As a corollary to action sequences being over-the-top, pulp action scenes should have a real sense of danger to them. The PCs should feel that if they slip just a tiny bit, their character is headed to certain doom. Unfortunately, this may lead to a little bit of dice fudging as you try to keep the PCs alive long enough to view the next big action scene.

What NPCs are for. Non-major-villian NPCs of any depth in pulp campaign exist solely to provide dialogue until their inevitable grisly death. Whether the PCs have to throw the suddenly traitorous guide off of a cliff, or an NPC suddenly sprouts a bad case of spear through his chest (Whoops! Spoiled Heart of Darkness for you!), NPCs should add to the sense danger discussed above.

Those lucky dogs. The PCs should come out on top. Major PCs will never fall off of the cliff to their doom. They are always caught at the last minute by another PC, or fall to their supposed deaths only to be captured by the villian and kept alive for an eventual heroic rescue. When a major PC dies, they should be in the position to make a noble sacrifice, or at the very least make a dying speech. This is one of the more difficult aspects of Pulp GMing, as you need to balance the need for impressing the PCs that they are in Real Mortal Danger with this simple fact that no pulp hero ever dies to a random trap.

Camp. Pulp without camp is just a soulless action movie that takes itself far too seriously. If you actually sit and think about the apatasaur stampede I mentioned earlier, it's actually a really silly thing to think about. Pulp adventure situations tend to be mildly absurd. You can't just chase a thief through the city, the chase has to occur at night, over the rooftops, after a recent rain, and during the annual fireworks festival. The key is to either get the players to buy into the camp, or to just not let them notice.

Pacing. Pulp stories are not about intricate dialogue, or deft political maneuvering. Pulp dialogue is typically short and to the point; anything longer and more flowery is in danger of overloading the (already maxed out) camp. Don't roleplay shopping unless it's going to lead to an action sequence. Don't let the PCs spend all day talking to the king. Don't let traps be disabled without some sort of time pressure. The session should quickly move towards an action sequence after action sequence. Pulp thrives on the feeling of just barely getting to the goal, only to discover a new threat.