Storytelling Through Objects: The Visual Language of Props in Filmmaking

Props are often overshadowed by more dominant filmmaking tools—cinematography, lighting, performance - but in the hands of a skilled director, they become some of the most potent storytelling devices. They can serve as motifs that reinforce themes, act as MacGuffins that propel the story, provide visual subtext, and even help actors embody their roles more deeply. But props can also be a filmmaker’s nightmare—especially when they create continuity errors that pull the audience out of the story.

Beyond their practical and narrative functions, props can also be viewed through the lens of object-oriented ontology (OOO)—a philosophy that considers objects as independent entities rather than mere tools for human interaction. This perspective forces us to rethink how we engage with props in cinema—not just as accessories to storytelling but as active participants in the narrative.

Filmmakers who understand how to use props effectively—and avoid their pitfalls—can elevate storytelling in ways that are both subtle and profound.

Props as Motifs: Objects That Speak Without Words

A motif is any repeated element that deepens a film’s themes or emotional resonance. While motifs can manifest in dialogue, framing, or color palettes, props offer a particularly effective way to reinforce meaning without explicit exposition.

A prime example is the gold watch in Pulp Fiction (Tarantino, 1994), which serves as a deeply personal, almost mythical object in Butch’s storyline. The watch isn’t just a piece of jewelry—it’s a family heirloom passed down through generations, symbolizing legacy, sacrifice, and the burden of history.

Pulp Fiction (Tarantino, 1994)

Tarantino takes an unconventional approach to establishing this motif. The watch’s importance is explained in an absurdly detailed, darkly comedic monologue by Captain Koons (Christopher Walken), recounting how Butch’s father and grandfather went to extreme lengths to keep it safe during war. This exaggerated backstory elevates the watch beyond a mere object; it becomes a symbol of endurance and duty, one that Butch feels compelled to recover at great personal risk.

Unlike spectacle-heavy blockbusters that rely on visual grandeur, films like Pulp Fiction use props as anchors for character decisions. Butch’s reckless return to retrieve the watch isn’t just about sentimentality—it’s about his refusal to abandon his family’s legacy, even in the face of extreme danger. The watch, appearing at critical moments in his arc, is a silent but powerful reminder of his internal conflict.

This is the power of a well-used prop motif: it doesn’t just exist within the film—it drives character choices and lingers in the viewer’s mind, reinforcing themes in a way that feels organic rather than forced.

The MacGuffin: Meaningless Objects That Matter

Alfred Hitchcock famously described the MacGuffin as an object that drives the plot, even if its intrinsic importance is irrelevant. While MacGuffins are most common in action or thriller genres, independent films often adapt them in more subversive ways.

A compelling modern example is the scholar’s rock in Parasite (Joon Ho, 2019). Given to the Kim family by their wealthy friend, the rock is initially introduced as a token of good fortune—something that, according to Min, will bring them prosperity. Ki-woo (Choi Woo-shik) latches onto this idea, treating the rock as a symbol of his family’s potential escape from poverty. He carries it as a talisman, convinced it holds some deeper meaning.

Parasite (Joon Ho, 2019)

But as the film unfolds, the rock’s significance unravels. Its supposed power is purely illusionary, much like the Kims’ belief that they can assimilate into the upper class. By the film’s brutal climax, when the rock is used as a literal weapon against Ki-woo, it transforms from a symbol of hope into one of violence and crushing reality.

Like all great MacGuffins, the rock is a motivator, not a resolution. It compels Ki-woo to act—fueling his aspirations, reinforcing his delusions—but ultimately, it means nothing. It is just a rock.

This is where MacGuffins thrive in independent cinema. Unlike in genre films, where they often drive external stakes, MacGuffins in more introspective films like Parasite operate on a psychological level. The rock is a false promise, a hollow object onto which characters project meaning—only to realize, too late, that they were chasing something that was never real to begin with.

Props as Psychological Anchors: The Totems of Inception

Some props serve as more than just motifs or plot devices—they act as psychological anchors for characters, helping them navigate their reality or inner turmoil.

Inception (Nolan, 2010)

Christopher Nolan’s Inception (2010) offers one of the most well-known examples of this with its totems—small, personal objects that characters use to distinguish between dreams and reality. Each totem has unique physical properties that only its owner understands, ensuring that no one else can manipulate their perception of what is real.

• Cobb’s spinning top—Once belonging to his wife, Mal, this object is both a practical tool and an emotional burden. Cobb uses it to check whether he is dreaming, but its presence also symbolizes his guilt over Mal’s death. The top is more than just a physical object; it represents his subconscious struggle and inability to move forward.

• Arthur’s loaded die—Arthur’s totem reinforces his need for control and precision. It’s a seemingly minor detail in the film, but it reflects his calculating and methodical personality.

• Ariadne’s chess piece—A symbol of her intelligence and problem-solving nature, her totem connects to the film’s themes of strategy and manipulation.

The brilliance of Inception’s use of props lies in how they externalize the characters’ inner conflicts. The totems aren’t just practical tools within the story; they are deeply tied to character psychology, reinforcing the themes of perception, control, and the fragility of reality.

Cobb’s spinning top, in particular, serves as a perfect example of a prop that transcends its immediate function. By the film’s final scene, its ambiguous fate leaves the audience questioning what is real—just as Cobb has chosen to stop questioning it himself.

Object-Oriented Ontology: When Props Take On a Life of Their Own

From a philosophical standpoint, props don’t just exist for characters—they exist as themselves. Object-oriented ontology (OOO) challenges the idea that objects are only valuable in relation to human use. In cinema, this means certain props aren’t just tools for storytelling, but become active presences in the film’s world.

One of the best examples of this is Quentin Dupieux’s Rubber (2010). The film takes OOO to an extreme, presenting a sentient, killer tire named Robert who gains autonomy, rolling through the desert and murdering people with telekinetic powers. The absurd premise forces the audience to engage with an inanimate object as if it were a living entity, making it clear that Robert is not simply a prop—he is the protagonist.

Rubber (Dupieux, 2010)

Similarly, the portrait in Portrait of a Lady on Fire (Sciamma, 2019) serves as more than a piece of set dressing. While it is, on one level, an object created within the narrative, it also transcends its purpose. The painting becomes an observer, a memory, and a silent participant in the characters’ emotions. It remains long after the story is over, holding significance not just for the protagonists but for the audience as well.

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (Sciamma, 2019)

These films challenge the traditional role of props in cinema. When treated as independent entities, props take on meaning beyond their immediate use, existing as artifacts of the film’s world rather than mere storytelling instruments.

Props as Active Storytelling Tools

Props in filmmaking are never just set dressing. When used thoughtfully, they:

• Reinforce themes

• Drive the plot

• Symbolize internal conflicts

• Anchor characters psychologically

• Create logistical challenges

• Hold meaning beyond characters

• Challenge traditional storytelling

The best filmmakers understand that props aren’t just objects in the background—they are silent storytellers, shaping the film in ways that words often can’t. Knowing how to wield them effectively can add depth, cohesion, and psychological weight to a film, transforming the simplest objects into something far more powerful. To find out more about using using props and other devices as part of your cinematic language check out our online course, The Art of Directing.