Beyond the Surface: Is Your Character’s Truth in Their DNA?
In screenwriting, the mantra “Show, Don’t Tell” is often treated as a simple instruction to replace dialogue with action. However, for a script to truly resonate, “showing” is only the first step. The real challenge lies in revealing a character’s truth so effectively that their actions feel inevitable and natural, rather than forced.
When a writer “tells” an idea through a character, the story remains on a superficial level. To move an audience from their heads to their hearts, the writer must bridge the gap between what a character does and who they are at their core—their narrative DNA.
Level One: The Trap of “Telling” and the Information Dump
The most common pitfall in early drafts is using characters as mouthpieces for the plot. This often manifests as “Expository Dialogue”—sometimes called the “As You Know, Bob” syndrome.
This happens when two characters exchange information they both already clearly know, simply for the benefit of the audience. For example, a sister might say to her brother, “As you know, ever since our father died in that mysterious boating accident ten years ago and left us the family estate, you’ve been the one in charge of the finances.”
In reality, no one speaks this way. The writer is “telling” the backstory through a conversation that lacks any natural DNA. When information is dumped this way, the characters feel like cardboard cutouts. Real depth requires that information seeps out over time through natural interaction and subtext, allowing the audience to piece the puzzle together rather than being handed the completed picture.
Level Two: The “Plopped In” Action and the “Hat on a Hat”
The next level of craft is “showing,” but it can still fall short if the action isn’t deeply embedded in the character’s history. This is what writers call a “plopped in” moment or a “hat on a hat.” The phrase “hat on a hat” is widely attributed to the legendary Del Close, a mentor to generations of improvisers and writers at Second City and iO Theater. In comedy, it refers to adding a second funny thing on top of an already funny premise, which actually ruins the joke by over-complicating it. In drama, it’s when a writer adds a dramatic quirk on top of a scene that doesn’t need it.
When an action is “plopped in”—like a jock suddenly reading poetry without any prior setup—it feels like a gimmick. To make it believable, we need to see the friction: How was this difficult for the character? What is the challenge they are overcoming to do this? If the audience can see the writer’s hand moving the chess pieces, the immersion is broken. They realize they are watching a script, not a life.
Level Three: The DNA of Character and Believability
The ultimate goal of a master screenwriter is to reach the level where every revelation is supported by the character’s DNA. Character DNA is the invisible framework of values, wounds, and history that dictates every choice a character makes.
Think of the iconic reveal of Darth Vader as Luke’s father in Star Wars. Even for audiences who didn’t see it coming, the moment was transformative because it was the truth. You could look back at the way Vader obsessed over Luke and realize the story was building toward that reality all along.
Contrast this with the infamous “Dream Season” of Dallas. When the showrunners realized they had written themselves into a corner, they revealed that an entire year of story was simply a character’s dream. While “clever” in a technical sense, it was a cheat. There was no fulfillment, only a reset button. The audience felt cheated because the events didn’t exist in the DNA of the show; they were just a superficial fix.
Example of DNA-Level Characterization:
Imagine a character who is obsessively focused on designer shoes. If you just “tell” us she’s shallow, she’s flat. But if you reveal that she grew up in a household where she wore hand-me-downs that never fit, those shoes are no longer “plopped in.” They are her armor. They are her way of telling the world she is never going back to a place of lack. Now, her behavior isn’t just a stereotype; it’s a window into her heart.
An Invitation to a Journey
A screenplay is more than just a blueprint; it is an invitation on a journey to believe. You are asking the audience to leave their world and inhabit yours.
If any part of your story feels unbelievable or “plopped in,” the invitation is revoked. The moment an audience loses faith in the character’s DNA, they jump on the train back to the station and head straight back into the traffic on the 405. When you move away from “telling” and toward “revealing,” you stop giving information and start giving an experience of insight.