It’s only fitting that in a summer where I began with a lesson from Jaws, I close the season with a lesson from another Steven Spielberg film. The catch? It’s not directed by Steven Spielberg. It’s not even produced by Steven Spielberg. As far as I know, there’s no formal connection to Steven Spielberg.
But the new film The End of Oak Street, directed by David Robert Mitchell, is cut from late 70s–early 80s Spielberg cloth. E.T. walked so these dinosaurs could run. And yes, there’s a lesson for you as a storyteller here. I will attempt to get into this without spoiling the movie, which you should totally see in theaters with other people so you can listen to them gasp and laugh at this fun, family-friendly horror delight.
First and foremost, and not spoiling anything, anyone who’s seen the trailer knows that the movie involves dinosaurs. And it’s in these Jurassic giants that our lesson lies.
Think Small
Let’s start by calling out the brontosaurus in the room: dinosaur movies are typically big movies. Big beasts on a big screen. Epic scale! From the soaring John Williams music as we see the first dinosaurs in Jurassic Park to the Tyrannosaurus jeep chase, the principal threat of these monsters is their size. This is especially true of the less-than-stellar Jurassic sequels. Each new installment has bigger beasts, getting eaten by even bigger beasts.
The End of Oak Street takes a different approach. Everything is smaller. It’s not a Jurassic Park or World. It’s sort of a Jurassic neighborhood. So the universe is small. But even within that neighborhood, we only really get to know four people, the nuclear family at the heart of the film led by Anne Hathaway and Ewan McGregor.
And we get to know them up close and personal. That’s because instead of massive wide shots of dinosaurs, we get extreme close-ups of the main characters’ faces. It’s a wonder the actors’ breath wasn’t fogging up the camera lens.
While we see the main characters up close, we’re really only given a passing glance at the dinosaurs. Yet the threat is felt because you see tails and fins behind fences and other bits of bedlam in their wake. As a result, you feel this threat in a very close and personal way.
Finally, epic movies often produce epic runtimes (2–3 hours). The End of Oak Street clocks in at just one hour and 39 minutes. This allows me to repeat one of my favorite axioms: More isn’t always better. Sometimes more is just more. Yes, there are dinosaurs in this movie. Yes, how they got here is not totally explained. And that’s just fine. In fact, it keeps the movie moving.
In short, The End of Oak Street succeeds because it’s short and compact in size and scope. That’s the last thing you expect from a dinosaur movie. And that’s exactly the point.
Subvert the Expected
Most of us today are in a state of constant partial attention. Various screens, apps, and notifications are constantly taking shots at our attentional health. As communicators, that means it’s harder than ever to capture and keep audience attention today.
One strategy in accomplishing this is surprise. And one of the easiest ways to surprise an audience is to subvert their expectations. Developed by communication scholar Judee Burgoon, the Expectancy Violations Theory hinges on the idea that unexpected behavior breaks our default patterns, triggering a quick shift in attention to process what just happened. That sudden spike in arousal forces us to stop, pay attention, and make sense of the surprise before deciding how to respond.
When Indra Nooyi was CEO of PepsiCo, she regularly wrote handwritten letters to the parents of her senior executives to thank them for raising such exceptional leaders. By breaking standard executive distance with deeply personal gratitude, she caught her team entirely off guard and built lasting loyalty. Liquid Death put plain water in a heavy metal beer can, breaking every bottled water norm to grab instant attention and build a cult brand.
Rather than just telling you to zig where others zag, the strategy comes back to size. One key in subverting expectations is doing so with size. If it’s a small moment, zoom in and make it big. If it’s big like a dinosaur, make it small enough to fit in a backyard.
Story Strategy: Subvert Expectations
The most compelling stories aren’t about polished protagonists. They’re about real people facing real odds.
Apply it: Look at your next presentation, pitch, or story and ask — where can I subvert expectations with size? Zoom in on a small moment to make it big. Or take something big and make it intimate. That’s where surprise lives. And surprise is what captures — and keeps — attention.
A version of this first appeared in Story Strategies—my monthly email newsletter designed to help you connect with your audience through the power of story. Get the next issue delivered to your inbox.
