Shared Goods is a platform for short-form writing that explores the emotional, cultural and narrative significance of film props.

Objects are central to the construction of cinematic worlds and the emotional weight they carry. The journey of a prop begins in the words of the script, and one of the earliest hires in a film’s production is the Property Master, who translates those words into objects. This role involves interpreting the script, storyboards and concept art to reflect the broader requirements of the narrative. Despite their importance in conveying story, props are often overlooked in critical discourse. This neglect stems from a long-standing bias in dramatic theory, dating back to Aristotle, which privileges narrative and character over the material elements of performance.

Props are not mere accessories. They are active participants in storytelling, moving through space and time, accumulating meaning and shaping audience perception. Once handled by an actor, a prop becomes a dynamic signifier, its significance unfolding in performance rather than being fixed on the page. In this light, the selection of props in filmmaking holds a significance comparable to casting. Consider your most cherished film and imagine all its objects arbitrarily replaced—the effect would be akin to a recasting.

Cinema, in capturing performances through light, becomes an archive of fleeting gestures and material arrangements. Each frame is a luminous imprint, fixing in time a temporary constellation of bodies, objects and atmospheres.

From a material culture perspective, props are not just tools of illusion but objects embedded with cultural, emotional and symbolic value. They mediate identity, memory and social relations. In cinema, a prop can encapsulate a character’s inner world or evoke a collective memory. Yet because they are seamlessly integrated into the mise-en-scène, their impact is often subliminal. They remain transparent until they malfunction or are made strange.

Inspired by precedents like Sir John Soane’s house-museum and Maurice Sendak’s studio, Shared Goods embraces the idea that archives can be fiction machines—spaces where objects are not only remembered but reimagined. Through this lens, the archive becomes a site of rehearsal and reflection, where the collected is both stored and staged.