Notes from the Train: Character Work in Everyday Moments

How character work begins before the script.

A quiet moment on a coastal train — where characters sometimes begin to form.

I saw a man yesterday on the train — a soft hat, canvas bag, the way he looked out the window like he was rehearsing a conversation. Not performing it, just running through something quietly. You couldn’t guess what kind of life he had, but something about the way he shifted in his seat stuck with me. I took note.

That’s usually how it starts. Not with analysis, not with research. Just a moment that lingers.

It’s not that I turn strangers into characters. It’s more how some gestures carry a charge. A kind of lived-in detail. I don’t collect them. I just notice. Sometimes they come back later, while I’m working through a scene, and suddenly there’s a posture or a breath that makes sense for the character.

You can’t always explain why. But something about the shape of a day — a quiet train ride, a woman placing her keys down just so — ends up shaping how a moment lands on screen. It’s less about making choices and more about being open to what the world offers when you're not trying too hard to look.

For more notes on quiet character work and everyday moments, read: The Characters You Walk Past →