The Same Mistake That Sank a $44M Film Is Killing Your Business
In May 2000, under the iconic arches of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre in Hollywood, John Travolta smiled for the cameras. He was premiering Battlefield Earth, a $44 million sci-fi epic, packed with star power, and positioned as a summer blockbuster. The film had everything it needed to succeed. And then, it crashed spectacularly. Instead of a hit, it became a cinematic punchline, now remembered as one of the worst films ever made.
The secret behind successful stories isn’t just a mystery in filmmaking, it’s a mystery in business, too. Some companies launch with celebrity founders, deep pockets, and glowing press… and still collapse.
Fast forward two decades. Two unknown brothers from Australia shoot a scrappy little horror film with no stars, no studio, and a $4.5 million budget. Talk to Me goes on to rake in over $100 million worldwide and becomes A24’s highest-grossing horror film of all time. One film had every advantage, and went down in flames. The other had none, and became a global phenomenon. Why?
The secret behind successful stories isn’t just a mystery in filmmaking, it’s a mystery in business, too. Some companies launch with celebrity founders, deep pockets, and glowing press… and still collapse. Others rise from obscurity with no funding and no fanfare, yet somehow break through. What if the elusive force that separates a box office bomb from a breakout hit is the same force that determines which companies soar and which ones sink? Could the hidden laws of successful filmmaking hold the key to getting a company off the ground?
Making a movie and building a company have more in common than you might think. Both start with a vision. Both demand relentless pitching to investors, teams, and audiences. You’ve heard this before: success hinges on the power of your story. But this advice almost always falls short. John Travolta knows how to tell a story, and Richard Branson knows how to launch a successful company (and still failed with Virgin Clothing, Virgin Publishing, Virgin Cola, and many other ventures). The real secret isn’t just in telling a story, but in understanding the hidden layers that actually take center stage in every successful story.
Movies Are Not About What You Think
It's better to show this story secret in action than to just explain it. Read the short story below and mentally note each story “beat”—every event or moment that moves the story forward:
The Scorpion and the Frog
A scorpion and a frog meet by stream.
The scorpion asks the frog to carry him across on its back.
The frog says, “How do I know you won’t sting me?”
The scorpion replies, “Because if I do, I will die too.”
The frog agrees, and they begin crossing.
Halfway across, the scorpion stings the frog. The frog feels the pain and starts to sink, but has enough time to gasp “Why?”
The scorpion answers simply: “It’s my nature...”
When people point out key parts of a story (what are often called “beats”) they tend to look at moments of action or dialogue. Think of when the scorpion first meets the frog, or when they begin crossing the river. These moments stand out, but they don’t capture what the fable is really about—these moments simply make the plot, not the story. You can even swap the plot out entirely without changing the story. For example, it could be a cat and a mouse trying to cross a road, or a hitchhiker in an orange jumpsuit outside a prison asking a driver for a ride. No matter the version, something deep stays the same, and that’s the real story. It centers on the frog’s hesitation, and even more importantly, his choice to go ahead anyway. Without that moment, the story loses its meaning. That’s what makes it a tragedy: the frog should have sensed the danger all along.
If The Scorpion and the Frog were made into a movie, filming the plot would be straightforward. Since it’s mostly about passing on pieces of information, the simplest way to shoot it would be with a wide shot that captures everything at once. But things get more interesting when the film needs to show moments of hesitation or choice. That’s when close-ups, camera movement, and special lighting come into play. These are the parts of movies we tend to enjoy most since they connect us to the story, not just the plot. While the plot is what we see on the surface, the real story hides underneath as subtext. And above it all is the theme, like a cloud hanging over the scene. That’s the central idea the film delivers. In this case, it might be something like, “Don’t trust strangers with a violent past.”
In my 15 years as an educator, I’ve come to believe that knowing the difference between story and plot is the most important factor in whether a film succeeds or falls flat. This layered nature of storytelling has been recognized for generations. Ernest Hemingway described it in his “iceberg theory,” where most of the story lies beneath the surface, waiting for the reader to discover it. Even Aristotle made a similar distinction, separating “Mythos” (the plot) from “Logos” (an underlying logic that gives the story meaning). Over the years, I’ve seen hundreds of students experience that “aha” moment in class, and then watched how their new understanding makes their films feel more powerful. More recently, I’ve started using the same technique with business leaders. They often concentrate on plot in their pitches, marketing and even sales—all without realizing that the hidden story should be their real focus.
Just Solving A Problem Won’t Make Your Business Succeed
Just like in movies, the layers of storytelling in business work best when they’re shown rather than explained. There are plenty of examples, because storytelling plays a role in every part of sharing information or asking someone to take action. In 2020, I founded the EdTech startup Quonder. First, I had to pitch to investors. After securing funding, I needed to hire a team, build a brand, market the product, and sell it. Each stage depended on getting people to understand the message clearly and feel motivated to act on it.
The Pitch
Every founder needs to believe their company solves a pressing problem, and back that claim with solid data. This kind of pitch makes sense since it follows a clear line of reasoning, so proving that there’s a need and a solution should be enough, right? But that is a plot-driven approach, which in business we’ll call reference messaging because it focuses on delivering information. Just like in movies, this is often the least effective way to truly move an audience.
When I first pitched Quonder, I focused on proving that current corporate training methods don’t work. I shared testimonials, cited data, and presented studies that showed our approach was more effective. But despite all the evidence, the pitch didn’t land. What worked was the opposite approach: a story-driven method known as resonance messaging. Instead of leading with numbers, I aimed for emotional connection. I asked investors to think back to their favorite teacher as a child, and to reflect on what made that teacher special. Then, I stepped in to offer a scientific explanation behind that teacher’s impact and connected it to Quonder’s methodology. Finally, I invited them to imagine what it would mean to share that kind of meaningful experience at scale.
Hiring
After Quonder’s successful seed round, we needed to bring on a product manager and build a development team. We all know the kind of job postings that feel lifeless, something like, “Quonder seeks a product manager to lead the development and execution of an innovative product.” It's the sort of listing you apply to along with 49 others, just hoping to get a call back. It feels that way because it leans heavily on reference messaging: just dry facts with no real story behind them.
We had bigger goals. We wanted to change an industry and make a difference, so we tried something more inspiring: “Join Quonder and help redefine the future of workplace learning.” While energizing for us, this version didn’t spark much excitement among job seekers. The problem was that our ad focused on theme, in this case, the broad idea of “the future of workplace learning.” In business storytelling terms that's what I call reflective messaging, language meant to prompt big-picture thinking. But, just like the theme of The Scorpion and the Frog (“be careful of violent people”), these ideas usually live far above the surface and aren’t spoken outright. The story only shows a scorpion and a frog, but the audience understands they represent something bigger.
Business communication works exactly like The Scorpion and the Frog delivers meaning to the audience. People rarely connect with vague, abstract themes like “be careful of violent people.” For Quonder’s ad, “Workplace learning” doesn’t feel personal and it’s hard to see yourself in it. What people do connect with is characters. So we rewrote the job ad to say: “Remember the Best Teacher You Ever Had? Help Us Bring That Experience to Everyone.” That version attracted candidates who felt personally connected to the mission, and who were eager to tell us why they remembered that teacher, and why they wanted to help us share that kind of impact.
Resonance messaging works any time you need to connect with an audience, whether they’re inside your organization or out. The key is to go beyond the facts and focus on what your audience truly needs. Instead of leaning on abstract ideas or hard-to-relate-to concepts, center your message around a human experience—or better yet, an emotion. Trust that the bigger idea will come through on its own, just like it does in movies. Use information and data to support a character’s experience, not the other way around. You’ll often find that the messages that speak to the heart are the ones people remember most.
*top image designed by Freepik