A great story consists of two fundamental arguments: the headline and the heartline. One argument plays towards the logical side of our existence; the other plays more towards the emotional. Both are essential. Why? Because you want to create stories that are both logically satisfying and emotionally fulfilling. Leave one side out and the audience feels cheated.

Stories must be argued both to the heart and to the mind

The two major arguments in a story can be referred to as the Objective Story and the Subjective Story. The Objective Story, often referred to as plot, engages the audience from the point of view of logic. Here the artist behind a story attempts to prove their argument by presenting characters as chess pieces, logistically weaving their way in and out of plot points in their attempts to achieve or prevent a common overall goal. From this point of view the characters seem cold to an audience member. While we may care about them, it is more their influence on the overall plot that we are concerned with.

On the other hand, the Subjective Story attempts to engage the audience from the point of view of feelings or emotions. Here the artist argues their case by creating empathy between the audience and two major characters. From this point of view we are more interested in how these two characters work together towards creating some level of fulfillment (or unfulfilment as the story requires). This is the heartline of a story and without it a story becomes cold, dispassionate and forgetful.

Stories Without Heart

Two films from last year unfortunately suffer from this dispassionate lack of heart. The Kingdom, directed by Peter Berg and written by Matthew Michael Carnahan, does a terrific job of presenting the problems and chaos surrounding the investigation of a terrorist attack in present day Saudi Arabia. And while the kidnapping of Jason Bateman’s character Adam Leavitt and his eventual place in front of the camera as a potential beheading victim certainly elevates one’s anxiety level (I was scared s—less!), it does little more than that to really suck us into the film on a personal level. I have no idea who Adam is, what his personal problems are, or why I should really care about him (beyond the fact that I’m a huge Arrested Development fan).

Besides he’s not really the one we’re supposed to be identifying most with anyways — Jamie Foxx’s Ronald Fleury is. But beyond a little moment with his son in the beginning, we really have no clue as to any personal baggage he may be carrying with him into this story. This is how you engage an audience’s heart — by presenting them a character with which they can identify with, one they can have empathy for.

Secondly there is no opposing character with which to challenge Fleury’s personal viewpoint. There is a character at the beginning of the film, the Saudi guard beaten for his apparent connection with the crime, who would have fit perfectly into this role. Yet for all the time spent setting his character up, he disappears for most, if not all of the second act. As such we are left with a very visceral yet disappointingly frigid connection with this film.

Many point to this film’s subject matter as being the cause of its disappointing box office performance. While it may be true that it is a subject many are not yet ready to explore, I would advocate this lack of heart as the real reason audiences stayed away.

Danny Boyle’s Sunshine (Written by Alex Garland) also suffers from this dilemma. And I have to say it comes as a huge disappointment to me as I loved the film — really really loved it. The visuals, the concept, the sound design, the music, all of it was just so perfect…yet there was still this lack of heart I had to contend with. There is absolutely zero time spent on Cillian Murphy’s Capa. Zero. We have no idea who he is, where he came from, or why he makes the decisions he makes. We know he doesn’t get along with Chris Evan’s Mace, but their argument never moves beyond the purely physical “I don’t like you” stage.

This film would’ve been a masterpiece if we had come to empathize with Capa’s personal baggage; if we had somehow been brought into his story. Again, I loved the film, but it is not one I’m anxiously wanting to watch again because I know that emotional argument is missing. If only they had spent as much time developing his character as they did playing that awesome music whenever he jumps into his spacesuit, I wouldn’t have been left as cold as the frigid space he so desperately tried to avoid.

Bringing Heart to a Real Life Situation

Michael Moore’s Sicko might seem like a strange film to examine in this context. After all it is a documentary and not a straight piece of fiction like The Kingdom or Sunshine (your definition of fiction may vary). Still, it is a fantastic example of a film that argues both logic and emotion effectively.

In Sicko director Michael Moore presents us with two arguments. The first is the argument that the American health care system doesn’t work. This is the headline or objective story behind Sicko and the part of the film that provides the fodder for many a political argument . Moore, of course, has his own viewpoint and in a systematic and step-by-step manner argues the case for free universal health care. 

The second argument, and the one that makes this piece so effective, is his argument that we’re not taking care of each other. This becomes less easy to argue against. Notice the use of the word we. In the Dramatica theory of story this is precisely the point of view one takes when examining the Subjective Story Throughline of a film. Contrast this with the impersonal They perspective that is used when looking at the Objective Story; as an audience member we are more emotionally attached to the former.

Consider how weak this documentary would have been without this emotional argument. Sure, we would’ve felt sympathy for the guy who had to choose which finger he wanted re-attached. And true, we still would’ve laughed at the confused expressions on the faces of Canadian and British patients when faced with the question of how much their hospital stay cost (If you haven’t seen it, the answer is zero). But we would not have cared so much if he hadn’t presented us with this argument of me vs. we.

Notice the pull on your heart when he asks, “When did we stop taking care of each other?”

It’s a wonderful piece of propaganda to place us, the audience, at the center of the story. Each of us individually becomes the Main Character of the piece. At times, Moore assumes our position and asks questions that we might ask, but for the most part we are the central character of the film. Whereas we sorely missed the personal baggage present in Cillian Murphy or Jamie Foxx, we all came to Sicko charged with our own baggage connected to the idea of universal health care.

In a future article I’ll go into more detail on how effective this documentary is from a structural standpoint, but for now it’s enough to recognize the presence of both heartline and headline.

Appeal to Both, Appeal to All

At first glance it might be an relatively easy concept to understand — stories must be argued both to the heart and to the mind. Unfortunately it more often than not is a concept that is drowned in the excitement that surrounds creating a motion picture. I’m sure this is what happened with Sunshine; so much attention was spent on creating the reality of a world suffering from a dying sun that they forgot to give the audience an emotional touch point. And the same with The Kingdom; there is so little we know about that corner of the world that the fascination with the unknown overcomes the emotional needs of an audience.

The most effective way to reach an audience is to provide them with both. Give them the logistics while also capturing their hearts with a fulfilling emotional argument. And while not every writer may be seeking to persuade an audience in the same fashion as a Michael Moore, I can guarantee you that many opposed to free universal health care had their minds changed by his film. 

Regardless of what kind of story you are writing, there is still something you are trying to say, something you want to communicate — an argument you are trying to make.

Why not make it the best?

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