Writing Subtext. Linda Seger

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