CC: Leading Characters: A Lesson in Head, Heart, and Gut
It’s a lesson from the black box, where acting and writing lessons collide! Today’s lesson: acting physicality meets character core.
As an actor, physicality is essential to conveying a character. How a character stands, leans, sits, etc. - these are tools for helping an audience understand a person beyond language. Authors have the same mission and must wield language to guide a reader through words said and unsaid. The rules of acting physicality can be a great tool for writers, and upon pondering this, I’ve been mulling one form of performance where this physicality is king - commedia dell’arte.
Every theatrical teenager dreams of playing a wise, elderly person. Grey wigs and drawn on wrinkles are akin to stepping through a time machine, and oh, how fun to feign aching bones and weak knees (I miss when this was pretend and not the reality after a day of yard work). When my high school theatre class learned about commedia dell’arte, a form of performance with a large cast of archetypal characters, I leapt at the chance to be an old man; I still have that old man mask tucked into a drawer of my childhood home. But age was just an aspect of my made-up character. I also had to choose how to move.
Commedia dell’arte has 10 stock characters who utilize three guiding physicalities: head, heart, and gut. The lovers, as you can imagine, are guided by their heart. Their chest moves before their feet can catch up. The philosophers, schemers, and over-thinkers are literally guided by their heads, which could mean anything aloof, with their heads in the clouds, to highly observant and snake-like. Then there are the gut-wanderers, those who follow instinct above all else.
In our acting class, finding physicality meant walking in a circle and trying different movements to see what fit. In the end, my old man character was decisive and buoyant, so even when sitting low, he would run head first into anything - to his benefit and detriment. In writing, the process is very much the same, like trying on clothes to see what fits best.
Here’s the head-heart-gut breakdown:
Head
Characters who lead with thought. Arrogance might stem here, a superiority over others. But so might over-analysis and insecurity about one’s place in the world. A head character might be studious and academically inclined. But they could also be most Disney villains, who are calculating and tend to have very good posture.
Heart
Characters who lead with care, connection, and sometimes even cowardice. Their emotions are on their sleeves, even if they’re trying to conceal them well. They don’t have to be in love, though these types of characters are known to every romance writer. But they are highly aware of their emotions, the good and the bad.
Gut
Characters who trust their instincts, those fueled by ambition or desire. Most people have heard the phrase, “Trust your gut,” but these characters don’t need anyone to remind them. Where head characters lead with thought, thought might come later to Gut Characters. They are hungry, literally and metaphorically. They protect themselves. They might go to great lengths to protect their money, their possessions. Where it fits, lust might be one of their crutches.
These elements are not only important for physicality, but they serve as a tool for readers to understand a character’s core. A head character isn’t going to run through a dark, scary forest without consideration or hesitation. If people are in danger, especially the person they love, the heart character is sprinting! If a gut character knows there might be a high return on the run, they’re going in, no questions asked. The importance, and the goal of this lesson, is to emphasize consistency. A reader might question why a character does something, but in the end, it should make total sense for the character.
It may feel weird to put your character in a box. People are complex; we contain multitudes. In that way, choosing a guiding force is not an exercise in casting all others aside. I like to think of Head-Heart-Gut as choosing who to play in Mario Kart. There is no way to max out Character, Vehicle, Wheels, and Glider all at once. There will be a core strength, but even with a good kart, not all karts fit each course. That’s conflict right there! (Great for a writer; bad for those who lack traction on Rainbow Road). So this isn’t a box per say, but rather a way to set boundaries. Rules are how a player understands a game. They’re also how a character comes to understand a story.
The head-heart-gut guides can be effective differentiators for characters. I’m often thinking of Quinta Brunson’s $5 Bill Test, and what it reveals about each of her characters in Abbott Elementary. In short, each character in your story, upon finding a $5 bill on the ground, should react to it differently. The reaction isn’t an emotion, like surprise or happiness, but rather an action with reasoning behind it. Janine, who leads with her heart, might launch a crusade to find who the bill belongs to. Melissa, a gut character, might assume it’s a scam and weigh the pros and cons of picking it up. In the same way, Gregory, head character, might avoid it for fear of germs.
Commercial Examples
Pirates of the Caribbean: Our three protagonists are vastly different, which is ripe for conflict! Elizabeth Swann is a head character. She is always thinking two steps ahead. She barters for her freedom. She catches on quick. Quite honestly, she would’ve made a better captain than anyone else. Will Turner is a heart character. His actions are never surprising. He will break the rules if it means saving the people he loves. Jack Sparrow is a gut character, down to the physicality. He’s ambitious to a fault, with money always on his mind, and his own survival is his main priority.
Zootopia: Bear with me, as I just watched Zootopia 2 (hey, Bub), so this is fresh in my mind. Judy Hops, our lovable bunny detective, is a heart character. She genuinely believes in the goodness of everyone, and she will dive out of a car if she thinks the end result will make the world a better place. Nick Wilde, a charismatic fox, on the other hand is a gut character through and through. Survival is his number one instinct. Pair them on a case, and they are both a perfect match and perfect foil, depending on the circumstance.
The Good Place: Eleanor is a gut character, and the question of each episode - “can this really be the good place?” - is what she’s chasing, not for the benefit of others, but to prove herself right. Chidi is a head character, and often gets stuck there (brilliantly so). Tahani is a head character as well, a rolodex of names and social knowledge. And then there’s Jason, a heart character, whose connection with others guides him through life.
Picking a core doesn’t mean that your character isn’t capable of change. That is the most fun aspect of writing characters, to watch them evolve, to see them challenged. But knowing a character in this way helps writers to set up obstacles catered to each character. A head character should have their knowledge questioned. A heart character should have challenges to their belief systems. A gut character should have obstacles that put their survival or ambition at risk. Knowing your characters helps the reader to understand the risks as well as you do.
Do you find yourself gravitating toward one guiding force over the others? Feel free to share in the comments!
Writing Exercise: Determine what guides your character’s core decisions and actions - head, heart, or gut. How would they react in the following scenarios?
Mystery: In working with a detective to solve a mystery, your character discovers a clue in their house, leading them to believe that their favorite family member (or best friend) might be the culprit. What do they do upon finding this evidence?
Fantasy: To save the realm, your character must embark on a journey through the Black Forest, where those who wander never return. They’ll need a crew. Who do they recruit first and why?
Family Drama: A letter arrives in the mail, and it is addressed to a friend who recently passed away. What does your character assume is in this letter? What do they do with it?
