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subtext:

a definition and exploration

In drama, more than any other art form, people don’t say what they mean. It isn’t always a lie. It isn’t always fudging or denying the truth. Sometimes characters think they’re telling the truth. Sometimes they don’t know the truth. Sometimes they don’t feel comfortable expressing the truth. In great drama, there are the words themselves and the truth beneath the words. There is the text and the subtext. They are not the same. They’re not supposed to be.

WHAT IS TEXT AND SUBTEXT?

Text is the words and gestures that we see. Sometimes they suggest other meanings, and sometimes they just say it like it is. If I asked you, “How do I get from San Francisco to Chicago?” you might answer very clearly, with no subtext: “You take 80 east, and then exit onto Michigan Avenue when you get to Chicago and you’ll end up in downtown Chicago.” No underlying meanings there – a nice, straight answer.

But if the question were asked of a cute blonde tart and she answered with a wink, “Why do you want to go to Chicago when there’s so much fun to be had here!?” we would know that’s not a straight answer. Many other meanings lie beneath the surface. She’s promising a good time. She has something else in mind. If you catch her drift, you’ll either say, “No, thank you,” or decide to stay a while.

We encounter subtext all the time in daily life. People have a habit of not always saying what they mean; or, sometimes they realize that it’s not good form, or polite, or acceptable to speak the subtext, so they cover it up with text and let the real meaning simmer beneath the surface. Sometimes they want the other person to understand the real meaning. Sometimes not.

In The Big Sleep (1946, by William Faulkner, Leigh Brackett, and Jules Furthman), most of the female characters flirt with Philip Marlowe (Humphrey Bogart). They insinuate, imply, and suggest. Even the female taxi driver has something else in mind besides taking Marlowe to his destination. After she drops him off, she gives him her business card, communicating subtext through her comments.

TAXI DRIVER

If you can use me again sometime, call this number.

MARLOWE

Day and night?

TAXI DRIVER

Night’s better. I work during the day.

Clearly she isn’t giving him her card for another taxi ride. Like the cute tart from San Francisco, she has other things on her mind.

Subtext is the true meaning simmering underneath the words and actions. It’s the real, unadulterated truth. The text is the tip of the iceberg, but the subtext is everything underneath that bubbles up and informs the text. It’s the implicit meaning, rather than the explicit meaning. Great writing and great drama are subterranean. Subtext points to other meanings. The words we hear are meant to lead us to other layers. Conflict exists at this intersection of text and subtext. Great drama dwells beneath the words.

When writers write dialogue that is obvious, we say they’re “on-the-nose.” Characters say exactly what they mean in neat, logical, sentences. It’s dull. It’s bland. It sounds like a lecture or a sermon or treatise or a resume. The dialogue is not emotionally alive. The words don’t resonate with other meanings. Instead, characters give information, recite backstory and exposition, and comment on unimportant things. They chat, and chat some more.

In obvious dialogue, characters are direct. They are all-knowing and understand everything well enough to explain it all to us. They tell us about their psychological problems – and have self-knowledge and insight and can tell us exactly what’s going on. They tell us exactly why they’re the way they are, and what childhood forces caused their psychological problems. Nothing is hidden. Like the writer, this character is all-knowing and the writer is determined to have him tell it all.

Or, consider this scene: Two characters meet, and are clearly attracted to each other. They talk about their attraction, about their hopes for the future. They have it all figured out. Everything is out there, without any of the uncertainties or nuances that occur in real life.

When everything is in the text, everything going on is in the lines, not between the lines, as it should be in great writing. It’s all there. But what’s missing is the important part – the motives and thoughts, emotions and human truths that resonate with multiple meanings.

In The Great Santini (1979, by Lewis John Carlino and Herman Raucher from the novel by Pat Conroy), the mother explains to her son, in so many words, the importance of understanding subtext. She says, “You have to learn to interpret the signals he [the father] gives off.”

That’s what writers need to learn to do: Write subtext so audiences will understand that more is going on than meets the eye. Writers point the way. They choose suggestive words and describe revealing behavior so that audiences get a whole lot more information than they could ever get from just a line of dialogue.

HOW DO WE KNOW THERE’S SUBTEXT?

Subtext is all the meanings that are not stated, but lie beneath. It’s what’s really going on. What the movie is really about. In this book, I use a fairly broad definition of subtext because what lies beneath is not just beneath the words: Subtext can be found beneath words, gestures, behaviors, actions, and images.

Usually subtext is something you can’t quite put your finger on. It is felt. You sense it. We know we’re encountering subtext because of the feelings of uncertainty we have and the questions we might ask. We encounter subtext when we wonder: “Hmmm, that doesn’t seem quite right. What did the person really mean?” Or, we think, “Yeah, sure, I just don’t believe a word of it!” Or, we feel uneasy, and sense, “I’m sure there’s more going on here than it seems. I wonder what he’s up to, and why is he doing that?”

In her book The Film Director’s Intuition, directing and acting coach Judith Weston explains:

Language is what we say with our words, and subtext is what we really say, with our body language, with the tone of our voice, with our eyes and expression. Subtext expresses our real feelings – for instance, feelings of impatience or distaste which may lurk beneath small talk and compulsory politeness. Subtext is the emotional history, intention, metaphor, and emotional event at the center of the scene.

Subtext adds depth. Judith adds, “Without subtext, the movie can be superficial.”

EXPRESSING SUBTEXT

You can express subtext in a number of ways. You might have the text say one thing and have the subtext say the opposite. Suppose you ask your friend, “How are you?” and he replies, “Fine, very well, thank you,” as he packs up his belongings to leave the office, having just been fired. If you found out the real situation, you would know the subtext: He means the opposite of what he says.

Sometimes subtext implies multiple meanings and allows several possible interpretations. If someone says, “I’m going away. I just can’t take it anymore,” you might wonder: Is she taking a weekend off? Just going away? Is she going to kill herself? And what is the “it” she can’t take anymore? How bad is “it”? Is this behavior related to the fact her husband left her, or because they went bankrupt, or because her son is on drugs? So you start thinking of all sorts of associations and possibilities and interpretations. You don’t know for sure what’s going on, but you do know something is. And, if you know there’s subtext, you might recognize the danger and decide to ask a few questions of your friend. Perhaps you go with her for the weekend to make sure she’s not alone. Maybe you suggest that she not take the gun.

Even if we recognize subtext, its true meaning might be known to the character but unknown to everyone else. It’s the character’s secret, those little problems and flaws that only he or she understands but doesn’t want others to know about.

Or, the subtext might be invisible even to the character, and reside deep within the unconscious but affect the character’s actions, emotions, and choices. Sometimes the subtext is also invisible to the writer, who discovers it in the process of writing. Eventually, the audience needs to know, sense, or be aware of the truth, without anyone explaining it directly.

Subtext is not just the meanings beneath the words, but it is also the associations we bring to dialogue and images. You, as the writer, choose the words in both dialogue and description that resonate most. But you also must consider actions and emotions and gestures and images, not just lines of dialogue. A sunset might provoke associations of romance, of the end of things as night and darkness come, of nostalgia for what might have been, of the possibility of new events taking place in the secret, romantic night. A sunset has become a cliché because we bring so many associations to this image. We have seen it so often in films. A film just has to show a sunset and we usually know everything it means. It is a tired subtext, greatly over-used. But, it is subtextual, nevertheless, because we don’t just take it at face value. We know it means a great deal more than the end of the day.

Always, with subtext, we know something more is going on. Something is unspoken – something that, if written well, is drama at its very best.

REAL-LIFE SUBTEXT

Dramatic subtext is based on our own experiences and our understandings of how people tick. As writers and artists, we watch people in real life and then use our accrued understanding to create dramatic, dynamic characters. We learn what people hide and what they choose to reveal. We learn how people don’t mean what they say or say what they mean and how much figuring out we have to do to learn what’s really going on. We recall richly layered scenes from our own lives, and examine them for subtext. We may recognize that, in real life, subtext often wastes our time and muddies our relationships because we’re forced to spend so much time figuring out what’s really going on. We try to fathom what’s up and keep thinking: “Something’s wrong here, but I don’t know what it is!”

Although we think we’d prefer that people be direct with us, and many of us learn to be direct with others (usually through years of therapy), plenty of subtext still goes on in our real-life words. When the cute new guy you met doesn’t call (although he said he would), you don’t know if that means he really isn’t interested, he’s out of town, he’s lying in a hospital, or he’s dead. When the cute guy finally calls, and you ask him if he wants to come to your apartment for coffee, you know – and he knows – it’s not about coffee.

Psychotherapist and script consultant Dr. Rachel Ballon says, “Dating is subtext, marriage is text.” And this arrangement is often the case. In the first months of a courtship, we often don’t know what anything means and whether we can trust the words, or what’s really going on and what it means for our future. Everything seems to be about interpretation, and we often get the subtext wrong.

In marriage, we hope that most communication is out in the open, truthful and clear, although there are plenty of marriages with too much subtext – with secrets, hidden meanings, and emotions that rumble, but go unspoken.

Dr. Ballon also says that, as children, we start our lives with text, but then learn subtext as we come to understand social behavior, social norms, what is acceptable and what is not. Children will usually be quite direct, until adults move their text into subtext so they become more “socially appropriate.” Perhaps the child meets Aunt Jeannie and screams, “I don’t want to kiss her. She’s ugly.” The parents are appalled, embarrassed, and quickly teach the child to shy away from the text. The child learns to say, “Hello, Aunt Jeannie. I have a cold, so I can’t kiss you hello.” The child is learning to hide the text in the subtext, so the text, the real meaning, moves to the subtext.

If someone says, “I always hated Sunday dinners with the family,” we know there is subtext. If we have the time, we might ask, “Why?” “Was this a time of arguments and conflict in the family? Did the father get drunk at Sunday dinner? Did the mother always cry because the weekend had gone badly?”

Or, you might hear your friend say, “We fell in love instantly. It was clearly love at first sight. We are soul-mates!” However, you are a bit suspicious because she’s clinging to the arm of her new boyfriend, has fallen in love instantly a number of times, and the new man in her life reminds you of her father.

Or, you might have heard a president or dictator say, “We’re going to war for the cause of freedom!” Maybe. But upon closer examination, you notice the enemy has vast oil fields or vast rubber plantations or other rich resources that will become the booty of war. Or, you notice this ruler has gone to war a number of times and freedom has not been the result.

Sometimes the aspiring suitor says to the lovely young woman at dinner, “You can have anything you want. My treat.” But when she orders the expensive steak, the frown on his face and his cool behavior to her during the meal clearly indicate that she has crossed a line and that her excess bothers him.

Sometimes one friend says to another, “It’s really fine for you to go out with my former boyfriend. No problem!” Well, maybe, maybe not. If there’s subtext, this action will have repercussions.

We might think subtext more often occurs in professional relationships or new love relationships – places where not everything can be expressed outright. But even friends don’t always tell us the truth. When you ask, “Does this dress make me look fat?” there are many ways to answer the question – some with subtext, some without. The friend might answer with straight text: “Yes, but only around the waist, and just a bit around the hips. And your butt does stick out a bit more than it does with your other clothes. Otherwise, it’s a nice color.”

Or, the friend might answer, “No, it’s fine. It’s a pretty dress!” And you might think, “What does that mean?” Now you’re unsure whether to buy the dress or not. You notice that the friend didn’t say,”You look stunning in it. It becomes you. Wow – they’ll be lining up around the block if you wear something so smashing!” But, maybe your friend is telling the truth, and it is pretty so you decide to buy the dress. The answer seems very straight, without subtext. And maybe it is. But you do worry about that word “fine.”

Or, you might try to guess the subtext. Perhaps the friend is secretly thinking, “I wish I could look that good. Great taste. I wish I had some of that!” And jealousy has now reared its green-eyed head. Or, the attractive platonic friend whom you always thought was “just a friend” suddenly seems to be looking at you in a funny and unfamiliar way. The friend might really think, “You are a feast to the eyes. I’ve never seen you look so attractive. Actually, you’re gorgeous and I’m very interested!” The friend might suggest you shouldn’t buy the dress after all, because you’re far too much of a babe magnet in it and the friend doesn’t want you attracting anyone else. If this interpretation is the subtext, the friend might say, “It’s too expensive,” or “Well, maybe it’s not as becoming as this other one.” Now you’re really confused.

When you’re confused, you are probably experiencing subtext. Something is going on underneath the surface. You don’t know what, for sure. You don’t know where it will lead. You don’t know what else will bubble up and what will remain hidden. But something is nagging at you and you think there might be some conflict here, perhaps a bit of trouble in this relationship, or maybe a turn in some new and wonderful direction. Perhaps something that’s been percolating in your hidden thoughts will come out as you find there’s a mutual attraction. Maybe you were implying subtext also.

Perhaps you put on the dress to test the friend and see if something else could go on between the two of you. Or maybe you put on the dress to let the friend know you now are interested in someone else and you’re getting ready to go to a fancy restaurant – with the cute guy you met last week.

Either way, the characters are becoming layered. Now there’s subtext.

CONSCIOUS SUBTEXT

In some instances, people are aware of their own subtext but choose not to share it with others. This discretion can take place in an attraction between people, when one chooses not to let the other know his or her true feelings. This might happen because the one person feels it’s too soon to express true feelings, or that it’s inappropriate to express feelings because the other person is married, is the boss, is too old, too young, too rich, too poor, too educated, or not educated enough, or from an undesirable culture, whatever that might mean to close friends or relatives. So the subtext comes out in other ways – looks between the two, comments like, “Your hair looks pretty,” or “Cool car,” when the person really means “You’re pretty, I like you,” or “You’re cool, even cooler than your car!”

The Romeos and Juliets can’t publicly say what they really feel. They know what they think and feel, but they direct their words and actions so others won’t understand them.

UNCONSCIOUS SUBTEXT

Sometimes subtext is unknown to a person because it’s too painful, too shameful, too dishonorable, or too difficult to admit. People who have suffered from abuse as small children, perhaps incest, battering, or neglect, often do not remember the very incidents that inform much of their lives. The woman might not know why she is afraid of the uncle or why she pushes her boyfriend away when he becomes romantic. The man might not know that he’s uncomfortable with the affections of a woman because he has repressed childhood abuse that occurred with a female relative. After years of therapy, perhaps the unconscious becomes conscious and the hidden layers of life become known well enough to make clear pronouncements and decisions.

Of course we all have flaws, insecurities, some problems, but for some, these problems have left deep wounds, some of them unconscious. Traumatic incidents from childhood might cause a character to speak, act, and react in ways that seem abnormal, or that imply the character is hiding something. In the film Sybil (1976), based on the book about a woman with multiple personalities, the backstory eventually emerges, as we learn that Sybil’s mother abused her as a child and her father ignored all the signs. Throughout the film, Sybil’s fears often erupt, causing her to have strong reactions to simple stimuli, such as being on the street. Simple stimuli provoke strange behavior, such as climbing to the top of a bookcase when she gets scared. Likewise, simple affection from the sweet man next door causes her to recoil, yet, she has no idea why. Through work with a therapist, these underlying psychological traumas emerge. She learns that these extreme reactions are caused by traumas from early childhood.

Other movies about multiple personalities, such as The Three Faces of Eve (1957), or films about mental illness or other psychological problems, such as I Never Promised You a Rose Garden (1977), David and Lisa, (1962), I’m Dancing as Fast as I Can, (1982), One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975), Frances (1982), Girl, Interrupted (1999), A Beautiful Mind (2001), Don’t Say a Word (2001), and The Soloist (2009), tell stories about rooting out unconscious problems, which are able to heal as they become conscious.

A bad break-up, bad luck with relationships, or unresolved relational problems in the past can cause someone to be unable to love or to become averse to being involved with or committed to someone (Up in the Air [2009], Runaway Bride [1999], High Fidelity [2000], 500 Days of Summer [2009], My Fair Lady [1964]). The excuse might be “I’m too busy,” or “I don’t think we’re right for each other,” or “I just met someone else,” but the real truth may be under the surface. Perhaps the person is really trying to say: “I’m still not over my last relationship but I don’t want to talk about it with someone I’ve just met,” or “I don’t want to get close to anyone after the pain of the last break-up, but that makes me sound weak so I’m not going to allow myself to be vulnerable with you by discussing this.”

Subtext can be expressed through the emotions of a character – either by displaying the emotion or by hiding it. Sometimes characters feel their emotional reactions are not appropriate and therefore have to be suppressed; but then the emotions come out in some other way. In the comedy Broadcast News (1987, by James Brooks), broadcast journalist Jane Craig (Holly Hunter) tries to keep her professional persona intact, but certain unconscious problems and motivations come through. Jane has a crying spell every morning in her apartment because a woman of her professional caliber is not supposed to cry at the office. At work, she keeps her “I’ve-got-it-all-together” persona in place, even though it’s clear to the audience that she doesn’t have it all together.

Jane is jealous of a male colleague’s developing affections for another woman on their team. Because emotions such as jealousy are not considered appropriate between two professional women (so some say), Jane hides her emotions, but uses her authority to send her female colleague on an assignment to distant cold Alaska. Either way, the audience understands the motivations in the subtext.

Desires, dreams, and wishes can also inform subtext. Some desires we do not dare share. You might want your script to get sold to Steven Spielberg and become a huge box office hit, but you feel that’s unrealistic and silly, so you don’t let anyone know how you’ve conspired to meet him. You have rehearsed, innumerable times, what you’ll say at the exact moment your paths cross and, although you plan to tell your friends after it’s all over, right now, you act blasé about everything to do with your script. Your dreams seem much too big to share at this time, even with friends.

Subtext may motivate many of our normal activities. You might not know why you’re driven to sell a script, earn a college degree, buy a red sports car, or sign up for the Army to fight in a war. Of course, all of these actions can be motivated for good, solid, conscious reasons. But not always. If you’re obsessed with a particular effort, and things seem out of proportion in terms of how you are going about fulfilling a goal, subtext might explain your motivation. Perhaps you realize, after some consideration of the obsession, that it’s all about getting daddy’s approval, about making up for a deprived childhood, wanting the high school kids to know you made it after all, or wanting to get your name in the newspaper because when you were ten you won second place in the community talent show and there was a big fuss made about you and you had your name in the newspaper and everyone talked nicely about you. That experience motivated your desire for approval all your life – and, besides, all along, you felt you should have come in first.

Whatever the reason, you can sense there’s something else going on that bothers you and pushes at you and doesn’t let up. And if you put this subtext into your character, the audience will feel it too.

SUBTEXT THROUGH IMPLIED SEXUALITY

Sometimes a film doesn’t want to make explicit statements about the sexuality of its characters, especially if they partake in what might be considered abnormal behavior. In Lolita (1962), Humbert Humbert is clearly interested in the adolescent Lolita, although he pretends to be in love with her mother. Innuendos signal his interest, including his concern that Lolita might be going out too much, which is really a concern he’ll have to spend too much time with the clinging, seductive mother while waiting for Lolita to come home.

If they are gay, depending on the context, characters may experience struggles accepting their sexuality. Brokeback Mountain (2005), which begins its story in 1963, gives a fairly clear portrayal of two gay men surviving in the face of society’s attitudes toward homosexuality by acting straight. The night after the two men first make love, Ennis states, “I’m not gay,” which is belied by his emotions and actions.

Sometimes the relationship between two people is deliberately left ambiguous, and the subtext merely implies a relationship, or strongly suggests one (Women in Love [1969], Troy [2004], Brideshead Revisited [2008]).

In Bonnie and Clyde (1967, by David Newman and Robert Benton), the sexual subtext differs between the script and the film, partly because of the casting. In the script, Clyde is in his early 20s. Bonnie is also very young, but sexually much more aggressive. In spite of her willingness (and in spite of the fact they sleep in the same bed), their relationship isn’t consummated. Often C. W. is sleeping in the same room, or Clyde doesn’t seem interested in being alone, or he shifts the focus as soon as they start making out. We might ask, “What is Clyde’s problem? Is this a moral problem?” which would seem odd, considering that he shoots guns with lots of bullets, and doesn’t seem to have a problem crossing other moral boundaries. Toward the end of the script, Bonnie reads him her poem about “Bonnie and Clyde,” which tells their story and characterizes him as a notorious criminal. This recognition galvanizes a new image of him, as Clyde realizes he has “made it” and achieved his goals.

The description in the script clarifies the subtext we have probably sensed throughout: “It is all starting to come out now – his realization that he has made it, that he is the stuff of legend, that he is an important figure!”

No hero is complete without the conquest of the damsel, so he finally makes love to Bonnie. In the script, after they make love, Clyde reacts, clearly pleased with himself:

CLYDE

(chuckling, apparently quite pleased.) Damn!… damn… damn!

As Clyde looks at Bonnie for some kind of approval, the stage directions mention his “underlying anxiety,” which is beginning to surface.

CLYDE

Hey, listen, Bonnie, how do you feel?…

BONNIE

Fine.

CLYDE

I mean you feel like you’re s’posed to feel after you’ve uh…

His hesitance implies his unsurety. He desperately wants her approval.

Well, that’s good, ain’t it. Reason I ask Is, I uh… Well, I figger it’s a good idea to ask. I mean how else do I tell if I did it the way…

BONNIE

… Hey. You done just perfect.

CLYDE

I did, didn’t I? I mean I did, I really did. I did it, I did, I mean this as my first time and it was just like rollin’ off a log. When it comes right down to it, it was easy, I mean I didn’t even have to try.

So, now the subtext became clear: Clyde was unsure and afraid that he wouldn’t be able to do it right for Bonnie. Clyde, in the script, is a virgin.

The film shifts this subtext. Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway look older than early 20s, so there seem to be other reasons for the lack of sexual activity between them. It is clear throughout the script that Bonnie is frustrated by Clyde’s lack of sexual response. After he robs the grocery store, their first robbery together, they hole up in a house out of town. Bonnie sleeps inside and Clyde sleeps out by the car. Immediately, we might wonder why. Over and over again, Clyde will start making out with Bonnie, and then stop.

At various times in the film, Clyde makes comments about his sexuality. Shortly after they meet, as they start to make out and it’s clear that Bonnie is eager and willing, Clyde tells her:

CLYDE

I ain’t much of a lover boy… Ain’t nothing wrong with me, I don’t like boys…

Later, he tells her:

CLYDE

If all you want is a stud service you get on back to West Dallas and you stay there the rest of your life…. You could find a lover boy on every damn corner in town.

Out of Bonnie’s frustration, she accuses him:

BONNIE

Your advertising is just dandy. Folks never guess you don’t have a thing to sell.

Bonnie wants to be alone with Clyde, but over and over again, he makes sure they aren’t. C. W. is around and so is Buck, his brother. Bonnie tells him:

BONNIE

Always somebody in the next room… Don’t you just want to be alone with me?

CLYDE

I always feel like we’re alone.

BONNIE

Do you, baby?

Then Clyde changes the subject:

CLYDE

I’m hungry.

Later, Bonnie tells him outright:

BONNIE

The only special thing about you is your peculiar ideas about love-making which is no lovemaking at all!

Although ambiguity surrounds Clyde in the film version, several viewers I spoke to reached the conclusion that he is impotent until Bonnie writes the “Bonnie and Clyde” poem. Then he feels like he’s finally somebody.

CLYDE

You told my story. One time I told you I was gonna make you somebody, that’s what you done for me!

After they make love, they seem to have finally come together as a couple in love. Clyde expresses tenderness and Bonnie shows obvious satisfaction. He still expresses uncertainty, but the motivation for this sexual ambiguity is not because it was his first time, as in the script:

CLYDE

Hey, how you feel? I mean you feel like you’re supposed to feel after you… ?

BONNIE

You did just perfect.

CLYDE

I did, didn’t I?

It’s not unusual for sexual information about a character to be hidden in the subtext, as it is in Bonnie and Clyde. The truth usually comes out with more clarity later in the story. This information still needs to be implied so we can begin to guess about what is going on. It’s layered throughout – a little here, a little there. Another hint here. A bit of nuance there.

In Thelma and Louise (1991, by Callie Khourie), Louise reacts with rage to Harlan’s attempted rape – she kills him. As the story goes on, we get hints that Louise was raped in Texas some time before, and that clearly justice had not been served. Before shooting Harlan, she tells him that when someone is crying, she’s not having any fun. When she tells Thelma that she’ll head to Mexico, she also explains that she won’t go through Texas. She says, “I’m not talking about it.” She understands a great deal about how the law works, and about the lack of evidence to indicate that the killing was done in self-defense. She understands the deep trouble they’re in. Finally, Thelma mentions the word “rape,” as she clearly adds up the subtext:

THELMA

It happened to you, didn’t it?… You was raped!

As the story proceeds, even the detective is clear about what happened, and feels sympathy for both women.

Just as underlying sexual problems can be in the subtext, so too can underlying attraction. True, most of the time the attraction between two people is fairly clear – to them and to the audience. It’s in the text. But, sometimes it’s in the subtext. Perhaps two characters seem to dislike each other, but we know that they’re truly attracted to each other. Maybe there’s an underlying conflict, but we know it’s really because there’s so much electricity between them.

Or, sometimes the attraction is clear, but it’s expressed in both the text and the subtext. Sometimes we sense the meaning of the subtext in a scene between two attractive people, even though they’re talking about everything but their attraction to each other. In Up in the Air (2009), the initial flirtation consists of two people showing each other their credit cards in their wallets, a scene suggestive of “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

In many James Bond films, the initial meeting, as well as some of the repartee in other get-togethers, clearly contains subtext. In the remake of Casino Royale (2006, by Neil Purvis, Robert Wade, and Paul Haggis), James Bond meets Vesper Lynd in the dining car of the train. She’s attractive (of course) and has been assigned to work with him and be the money source so he can take part in a high-stakes poker game. The scene moves between text and subtext, with James Bond usually lacing his lines with subtext. I’ve inserted the subtext throughout the scene, which begins as she joins him at his table:

VESPER

I’m the money.

Note: This is a straight statement. It seems to be text without subtext. She’s stating the reason for their meeting, but the text is still slightly provocative. She doesn’t say “I’m in charge of the money,” but “I’m the money,” which is more personal and gives Bond entry into the subtext.

BOND

Every penny of it.

James immediately turns the scene into subtext. Yes, she looks like a million – every inch of her. He clearly is attracted.

VESPER

The Treasury has agreed to stake you in the game.

Vesper now moves back to the text. This is why she’s here – to explain these details. She tries to be no-nonsense, to-the-point, but it isn’t going to work with James. She hands him her business card, which re-emphasizes the text of the scene.

BOND

(examining the card) Vesper? I hope you gave your parents hell for that.

James won’t stick to the text. He starts with text, noticing her name, but immediately begins to imply subtext. He first implies there’s something wrong with her name. He’s implying, “Who would want to be saddled with the name Vesper?” But the writer, in this case, Ian Fleming, has chosen the name, partly for its subtextual meaning. What does “vesper” mean? It implies evening, which can be filled with possibilities. In the Catholic Church, vespers is the evening service, although we can be reasonably sure James has nothing religious in mind when he examines Vesper. Vespers can imply twilight, a time when things aren’t always seen clearly, or are meant to be secret. It’s an evocative name.

Vesper continues to speak the text – ten million dollars was wired to his account and he can get five million more if necessary. She asks about the menu and they begin to eat. As the meal proceeds, Vesper is clearly not convinced that James can be trusted to win at poker. She’s not sure their money is in good hands. Bond tries to show he knows the game well.

BOND

… in poker you don’t play your hand, you play the man across from you.

Bond continues to show his knowledge, giving her information in the text, while trying to convince her of his abilities in the subtext.

VESPER

And you’re good at reading people.

It sounds as if Vesper is doing straight text, but Bond catches the subtext.

BOND

Which is why I’ve been able to detect the undercurrent of sarcasm in your voice.

Now Bond is saying outright that he has understood the subtext all along – he understands she doesn’t trust him.

VESPER

I am now assured our money is in good hands.

BOND

From which one might surmise you aren’t overwhelmingly supportive of this plan of action.

Bond is now reading another subtext here – it isn’t just about distrust of him, but distrust of the whole plan. We might not have understood the subtext, but he did – because he’s good at reading people. In case we missed it, he explains the subtext to us very clearly.

VESPER

So there is a plan? Excellent. Somehow I got the impression we were risking ten million dollars and hundreds of people’s lives on a game of luck. What else can you surmise?

The sarcasm is there, but now something else is coming out. If Vesper wanted to keep this business-like, she wouldn’t be engaging him by asking a personal question. We might think she’s still talking about the plan, but most likely not. She is probably asking him to surmise something personal. She must admit she’s attracted also. And, as we can see from her last comments at the end of the scene, she has noticed all along he’s an attractive and charming fellow.

BOND

About you?

He got the subtext of her question, and puts it into the text; he studies her, enjoying this turn in the conversation.

Well, your beauty is a problem.

You worry that you won’t be taken seriously… ???

Now, the whole conversation becomes personal. He guesses that she overcompensates for her beauty with her clothes, that she uses arrogance to compensate for her insecurity, and that she’s an only child or an orphan. She guesses he went to Oxford and didn’t have money, and that he is also an orphan. Then she zings him once more:

VESPER

… you think of women as disposable pleasures rather than meaningful pursuits, so as charming as you are,

Ah, she noticed!

I will be keeping my eye on our government’s money and off your perfectly formed ass.

BOND

You noticed.

Yes, we got the subtext also. She noticed. She’s attracted, but doesn’t want him to get the better of her. She asks:

VESPER

… How was your lamb?

BOND

Skewered. One sympathizes.

She did get the better of him, and he knows it. Of course, as the film continues, Bond will fall deeply in love with her and won’t treat her as a disposable pleasure but rather will see her as a meaningful pursuit.

LOOK FOR THE SUBTEXT AT CRISIS POINTS

Subtext is most apt to come through during crisis or at transition points in our lives – when a death occurs, a new job is taken, at the start of a new relationship or the break-up of an old one – when the stakes are high and everything might rest on our saying and doing the right thing – even though we’re not sure what the “right thing” is. In such cases, characters cover up the real meanings.

In any kind of suffering, a myriad of emotions often leaves one speechless, so the subtext may be expressed visually, rather than verbally. Most people have difficulty facing pain, or knowing what to do when confronted with the unfamiliar. They might become stoic, denying their feelings and discomfort. They don’t want others to know how vulnerable they are.

When people are ashamed, they can’t speak about it. They want respect but may fear that they’ll lose it if others know the truth. What do they talk about instead? Perhaps nothing at all; or, perhaps they become overly polite in their relationships with colleagues; or, perhaps they turn to discussions about the weather, information about their job, or polite inquiries about their colleague’s family. Even when writing this dialogue, words can be carefully chosen to imply what is really being said: “I want your respect. I’m going to gain it by politeness to make you think I’m a kind person, or by the knowledge I share to make you think I’m a smart person.”

When a friend or parent lays dying, knowing how direct one can be (so the subject of death might be skirted) can be difficult. Every subject is discussed except death. The son might go on and on about who won the football game, but is really talking about whether the father will be able to win the battle between life and death. The daughter might be trying to make the father comfortable or might be smoothing the blanket on his bed, even though he’s taking his last breath and such neatness really doesn’t matter anymore. The sister might feel helpless and uncomfortable, wanting to get out of there, and so quickly volunteers to go get the nurse. Immediately, the brother simply says, “Well, that’s that!” And it is. But even those words imply vulnerability, discomfort, and perhaps a desire to get back to life. Enough of this death stuff!

In the script of Remains of the Day (1993, by Ruth Prawer Jhabvala), when he is dying, Stevens Sr. says to his son, Stevens:

FATHER

I hope I’ve been a good father to you.

And Stevens, who is always dignified and unemotional, changes the subject:

STEVENS

I’m glad you’re feeling better. I have to go down now. A lot to see to.

The father tries again.

FATHER

I’m proud of you. I hope I’ve been a good father to you.

Stevens ignores the subject again.

STEVENS

I have so much to do, Father, but we’ll talk again in the morning.

Then the father decides to tell him another truth – about the mother.

FATHER

I fell out of love with your mother. Your mother was a bitch. I loved her once but love went out of me when I found out what a bitch she was. Your mother was a bitch.

Once more, Stevens ignores the emotional truth.

STEVENS

I’m glad you’re feeling better.

Even when Miss Kenton informs Mr. Stevens that his father passed away, all Stevens can say is: “Oh, I see.”

CULTURAL SUBTEXT

Those of us who travel to other countries often notice that sometimes we simply don’t know what’s going on. This confusion might not be because we don’t know the language, but because we don’t know cultural meanings that are hidden to someone of another culture. Physical proximity changes from one culture to another. We might not know how to interpret the person standing very near to us – attraction? Is the person a pickpocket? A sex pervert? Or, is this nearness part of a culture that is simply used to people standing close to each other?

Some cultures don’t like to say “no.” After I had been invited to give a seminar in Japan, I didn’t hear from my host for many weeks. Believing this lack of response might be cultural, and that he might not be able to do the seminar, I read a book about Americans doing business with Japan and discovered that the Japanese don’t like to say “no,” so they often find other ways to say “no” without ever saying it, such as by not responding. After reading the book, I was even more confused, because I had no idea whether my host was trying to say “no,” or whether something else was wrong. Was there subtext, or not? Since there had been no reply to my emails, I finally faxed him. I received a fax back saying he had changed his email address and still wanted me to come.

A friend who just returned from Taiwan said he had to learn not to complain, even when he was served “old” tea that tasted terrible. He learned that complaining was not appropriate in that culture because it was taken as an insult.

Some cultures have subtext around gift-giving, or around hospitality. In Ecuador, it’s considered polite to have a drink with whomever you’re meeting, even if you just stopped to ask directions to the nearest village or volcano. Typically the drink is locally brewed alcohol so you have to watch it, lest you won’t be able to wobble down the street and actually make it to your destination. The subtext seems to be about accepting people and their hospitality; to refuse would be a social snub and a personal slight.

In the Philippines, you have to be careful about saying you admire something. Typically your host or friends will simply give it to you or buy it for you. That idea can work very nicely when you’re on the receiving end, but it works both ways. There can be a tendency to ask you for favors and things you might not be comfortable doing, parting with, or buying. If you don’t understand the subtext, you won’t understand what you’re supposed to do in return.

Cultures vary in terms of what is acceptable with nudity. Some tourists go to beaches in foreign countries and their eyes pop out, as they notice naked men and women on the beach. No big deal! In other cultures, exposing the neck, ankles, arms, or knees is not acceptable. The subtext comes through the reactions of others. Wearing a sleeveless blouse in some Middle Eastern cultures that frown on such exposure might seem fine because it’s warm, but the looks and frowns from others may soon alert you that it’s time to go back to the hotel and change. This tradition can also hold in Muslim countries, such as some parts of Indonesia and Malaysia, where spare sarongs at the entrance to temples indicate that any females in shorts or slacks should use one to cover up while in the temple. They can also be used as a shawl to cover bare shoulders. It’s similar to the up-scale restaurant that supplies suit jackets and ties for men who don’t seem to know how to dress appropriately.

In The Old West, asking a man where he came from was not appropriate. The past was private. You didn’t ask personal questions. In the film Shane (1953), we never know where Shane comes from, or where he is going to, but the audience knows that something is hidden and secret in his past. Nothing needs to be said – it’s clear.

Hollywood has its own cultural context. If someone says to you, “Don’t call us, we’ll call you!” and you wait by the phone for weeks, you clearly didn’t understand the subtext, which was, in most cases, “Not interested.” If a producer says, “Love the script, babe. Do you want to stop over at my house tonight to discuss it?” chances are, it’s not the script he’s interested in.

If someone in Hollywood tells you “the check is in the mail,” don’t start paying your bills, expecting to get the check within the week. I had a client who took that promise seriously, not understanding the subtext. He paid all his bills, sent them out in the mail, and continued to wait for the check, which he thought would come any day to cover his debts. Out of angst over the checks that would surely bounce within a week, he decided to rob a bank and ask for exactly the amount of money he needed to pay his bills – no more, no less. The bank was on the second floor of a building, which gave the manager and police enough time to prevent his exit. He was quickly arrested and served a year in prison.

No one ever explained the subtext to him, but it would have helped if he had understood it.

On the other hand, he went on to get several writing assignments and even got a movie made – which was what he wanted in the first place. Cultural subtext can be confusing, because we don’t know what something means, and often don’t know enough about the culture to know whether the subtext even exists. We see how this clash of cultures can lead to misinterpretation and confusion in such films as Dances with Wolves (1990), Witness (1985), and Whale Rider (2002). Sometimes people living in a culture don’t even recognize their own subtext and don’t understand your inappropriate actions. Sometimes there is subtext, and sometimes there isn’t.

Norms relate not only to international cultures and the film culture, but also to socioeconomics and class cultures. For instance, someone might not be aware that it is inappropriate to curl up in a chair or lie down on a sofa in a corporate lounge, or to wear tattered jeans or short skirts to most job interviews. The reactions, and the fact you didn’t get the job, might give you a clue.

An attorney recounted the story of a young woman who came to a job interview in a very short skirt. They sat at a glass table and he found it was difficult to concentrate on her qualifications, considering the circumstances. He realized that someone who didn’t understand appropriate attire for a job interview may not understand other aspects of corporate culture. Perhaps she was turned down for the job for other reasons as well, but this reason certainly came into play. She may not know why she didn’t get the job, and it may be that the attorney would not find it appropriate to discuss this detail, but the result was the same – she didn’t get the subtext and didn’t get the job!

TRUSTING YOUR INTERPRETATION OF SUBTEXT

You might feel butterflies but don’t know why you’re nervous in a particular situation, or around a particular person. You might feel distrust. Sometimes we’re told “everything is fine,” but our gut tells us it isn’t. And we often don’t know whether to believe our gut or not.

We might feel this twinge in the presence of something really rotten, perhaps even some kind of evil, even though the person we meet seems perfectly fine. But something alerts us. Usually we simply feel that something is wrong.

In The Fugitive (1993), when Sam Gerard leaves the apartment of the One-Armed Man, he turns to his deputy and says, “This guy’s dirty.” Nothing was said in the text indicating that assessment, but Gerard senses that the guy isn’t straight – and he is right.

I’ve experienced this feeling twice. I’m usually not a good judge of people because I figure everyone is “really nice” and “just fine.” I have been wrong a number of times. But twice I met a person who made me feel there was something really wrong even though I could find no evidence for my feelings. In both cases, I had a brief interaction with the person and was more of an observer than a participant in the encounter. The first case was a very quick introduction to someone my colleague was talking to, someone whom she obviously had known for some time. I didn’t understand why I had this feeling, or how I could get this feeling from a simple introduction. I watched the person conversing with my colleague and everything looked just fine. Later, I was told the person was very untrustworthy and manipulative – even described as a “bad person.” I don’t think my colleague knew it at the time, but discovered soon after. But I felt it and, trusting my feelings and instincts, sensed the truth behind the person’s mask.

Another time I met a minister and had the same feeling, which again made little sense to me. I did notice that he didn’t make eye contact and seemed distracted, but he was organizing an event, so I figured that was the reason. I still couldn’t understand why I had this strange and uneasy feeling. Later, I learned he was having an affair with someone in his congregation and he was fired soon after that.

We have probably all had these intuitions about people and situations – times we have felt uneasy or have picked up on something subtle. We may have had a thought flit through our head, or a flash of insight, or a subtle feeling that alerted us.

Some people experience this sensation as a warning. Or, hey, this person seems to want something from you, but he’s not saying it. Or, this person seems too attentive. It could come from an emotion, such as fear or discomfort, or from an intuition you don’t understand. You might wonder why you had that thought, or shrug it off, but something is probably going on that is not being clearly seen or understood. Just as you can learn to trust your intuition in real life, you can learn to trust your interpretation of a character’s behavior in film.

LOOK TO THE PAUSES FOR SUBTEXT

Sometimes subtext is communicated in the pauses. We have probably all had the experience of asking for directions. I’ve always figured that the longer the pause before you get an answer, the farther you will end up from where you want to go. “Do you know where St. James Plaza is?” Count: one, two, three seconds as you wait, and you know you’re really far, or the person giving directions isn’t sure. Well, that’s the way it works in dialogue. You ask someone something – “Are you angry at your mother?” and if the pause is a long one, that’s subtextually telling you something wrong here. Finally the answer comes, “Oh no, not in the least bit.” But the pause told it all.

NOTICE THE SWERVES IN CONVERSATION

You can express subtext through swerves in the conversation. It may be that a character asks a direct question but does not get a direct answer. If we ask someone, “Why are you late?” and the person replies, “Have you any idea how hard it’s raining out there?” we might notice the question was not answered.

If someone changes the conversation topic, we might figure there’s subtext somewhere. Maybe someone unexpectedly enters the room and the two people talking suddenly start talking about something else. Sometimes characters speak at cross-purposes. In Ordinary People (1980, by Alvin Sargent from the novel by Judith Guest), the conversation between Beth and Conrad shows how very disconnected they are. Conrad unwittingly surprises Beth, who is sitting in Buck’s bedroom.

BETH

I didn’t think you were here.

CONRAD

… I just got in. I didn’t know you were here.

BETH

I didn’t play golf, today. It was cold.

CONRAD

How’s your golf game?

BETH

I didn’t play.

CONRAD

Oh… It did get colder today.

BETH

No, I mean… for the year it got colder.

CONRAD

Yeah.

WRITING THE SUBTEXT

Given all the possible interpretations, we might think the writer lets the audience figure out the subtext. But the point is not to confuse or merely to suggest, but rather to direct the audience to the interpretation that eventually leads to a fairly clear understanding of what’s going on. The pieces may not all form the interpretation immediately. It might take the entire film, helped by the actor, director, and everyone else in the production before all the pieces fit together to form a cohesive, unified film. This work takes a careful selection of words, scenes, and characters. The writer must try to avoid detours and misinterpretations that result in arbitrary scenes and dialogue.

Many writers write the text in the first draft and then start shading in the subtext in future drafts. They keep moving away from on-the-nose dialogue to layer the script.

Perhaps you start working on a scene by thinking about what you want to get across. Maybe the man has to communicate he’s attracted to the woman. In the first draft, he might say, “I’m attracted to you,” or “You interest me!” But as you continue to work with the scene (remembering it might take five or ten or more rewrites), you might put the text on one side of the page and the subtext on the other side of the page. Or, you might write the subtext underneath or above the lines, as I’ve done with the scenes above.

You might brainstorm what subtext you want to get across. Is the man desperate, and looking for a girlfriend or wife. Is he looking everyone over? Is he totally smitten, but realizes he’s not good enough for her, perhaps because of his class, or financial situation, or race? Or maybe it’s a woman attracted to a woman or a man attracted to a man, who has to find out, through subtext, innuendo, and suggestion, whether the other person is gay or not. Whatever technique is used by the writer, the job includes shading in subtext. Drama and life are more than just good text.

WHERE ELSE DO WE FIND SUBTEXT?

Although it is usually thought of as beneath the words, subtext can be expressed in other ways. In film especially, subtext can become clear to the audience through words, gestures, attitudes, actions, and reactions. The writer creates the gestures, actions, and emotions of the character, which get further expressed by the director and actor. The writer creates images that will be further expressed by the art director and cinematographer. The writer’s ability to use the language of cinema to express hidden layers often marks the difference between a great writer and the merely competent. If the subtext is well-crafted, the audience understands these hidden layers – and stories, themes, and characters – become richer as a result. When the writer does subtext the script is terrific and the film is great.

EXERCISES AND QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

(1) Make a list of times in your life when you have encountered subtext in conversations with others. What did the person say? What did the person mean? How did you respond to the feeling that you weren’t hearing the total truth? How long did it take you to figure out the subtext?

(2) Have you encountered subtext in other cultures, whether through cultures of a different ethnic, national, or social background, or a different class or economic background? How did you figure out the subtext? Did someone ever discuss it with you?

(3) Has your intuition ever told you that something going on was “bad” or “evil,” but your logic wanted to deny this feeling? Did you feel there was subtext in the situation? Did you later find out you were correct?

(4) Look at a film that deals with hidden psychological problems, such as The Soloist (2009), The Three Faces of Eve (1957), or Sybil (1976). How does the film convey the problems that are beneath the surface?

(5) Do you have favorite examples of subtext from films that either amuse you, or that you find especially powerful?