Horizontal: plot moves chronologically forward. Vertical: character depth unfolds — psychology over action. Best films layer both simultaneously.
On set or in the edit, we distinguish between two fundamentally different narrative directions that advance a story—and the best work happens when both interlock.
Telling horizontally means: The story progresses. A happens, then B, then C. The plot has a rhythm, a causality, a progression that the viewer can follow like a timetable. A character gets in a car, drives to the bank, robs it, flees. This is the skeletal structure, the movement through space and time. In shooting, this means: clear cut sequences, location changes, confrontations that clarify or escalate a situation. Horizontal is what the story does.
Telling vertically works beneath the surface. Here, we delve into a character's psychology, their contradictions, their hidden motivations. A glance is enough—the actor registers something in the background, their face reveals an old wound. No need for exposition. Vertical is also: a character says something but means the opposite. A scene that superficially deals with everyday life is actually a maneuver in an internal battle. Vertical storytelling works with subtext, timing, with what is not said. In the edit, this is visible through pauses, the use of music, camera focus.
In practice, you need both. Only horizontal—and the film becomes an adventure series, superficial, lacking depth. Only vertical—and nothing moves, the viewer doesn't know what it's about, the rhythm breaks. Master directors (Bresson, the Coen Brothers, Lynne Ramsay) build horizontal moments—clear story points—and fill them vertically: What is the character really thinking? How does their inner world distort their perception?
Practically on set: While you are unfolding the scene (horizontally), you work with the DoP and the actor on the vertical layers—where exactly should the camera be placed to show a character's isolation? When does the camera hold longer than logically necessary to create unease? In the edit, it's the same: the horizontal cut sequence is finished—now it's about lengths, silences, where does a sound element belong that mirrors the character's inner reality? Vertical and horizontal simultaneously—that is narrative power.