There’s a principle in storytelling called Chekhov’s Gun—a theory attributed to Russian playwright Anton Chekhov. Nothing in a story should be unnecessary. If something is introduced—a character, a detail, a symbol, or an object—it must serve a purpose. If not, it should be removed.
This rule of narrative economy has guided writers and filmmakers for centuries, but it also applies to photography, branding, and visual media in a way that is often overlooked. Especially in an age where we are saturated with images, content, and ads, the presence of an object in a photo or video carries more weight than ever. Viewers may not consciously realize it, but they can feel when something is there for a reason—and when it’s not.
Beyond Product Placement: When Objects Tell the Story
In commercial and brand photography, it’s easy to fall into the trap of inserting products into every frame. The intent is often clear: we’re here to sell something. But when a product appears in a photo simply to be seen, without purpose or integration into the narrative, it breaks the illusion. It doesn’t feel authentic. It doesn’t invite connection. Instead, it reminds the viewer that they’re being sold to.
That’s where Chekhov’s Gun becomes a powerful lens for evaluating visual storytelling. If an object (like a product) appears in an image, it must be there because the image cannot fully function without it. It must add something beyond branding. It needs to serve a role in the emotional atmosphere, the storytelling arc, or the artistic balance of the piece.
So what does it look like when an object truly belongs in a visual story?
Emotional Value
Sometimes, an object adds depth by supporting the emotional tone of the image. This could be something as subtle as a personal item that reinforces intimacy or comfort. When an object evokes a shared feeling or memory—like nostalgia, warmth, longing, or joy—it becomes part of the emotional story being told.
This isn’t just about making something look “cozy” or “aesthetic.” It’s about tapping into the viewer’s emotional memory. An old record player might hint at a love story. A cracked mug might suggest resilience. A pair of shoes by the door can say more about routine, rest, and return than any caption ever could.
The object, then, isn’t just placed—it belongs. Without it, the emotional message of the photo would be incomplete, or even lost.
Storytelling Value
Another way objects earn their place is by advancing the narrative. Whether a photo captures a literal moment or tells a symbolic story, every element should move the story forward. If you remove an object and the photo loses meaning or becomes confusing, then it is important. That’s Chekhov’s Gun in action.
In visual storytelling, this might mean that a coffee cup isn’t just a prop—it’s evidence that someone was here. A suitcase isn’t just luggage—it’s movement, change, or departure. A half-eaten meal isn’t clutter—it’s a conversation that happened, a relationship in motion.
The best visual narratives make you feel like you’ve walked into a moment that already existed and will continue after the image ends. Objects that contribute to that continuity are essential. Everything else? Distraction.
Artistic Value
Even when objects aren’t emotionally or narratively symbolic, they can still serve a meaningful function: they contribute to the visual composition. An object may create balance, symmetry, or depth. It may anchor the color story, create contrast, or guide the viewer’s eye toward something important.
This is where art direction comes in. The placement of objects in a frame—whether foreground, midground, or background—must feel intentional. A random bottle in the corner of a perfectly lit image that doesn’t interact with anything or enhance the composition feels off. It detracts from the beauty. But a similar bottle, placed with care, reflecting light, or echoing the curve of a subject’s pose, becomes part of the artwork.
When an object adds to the aesthetic harmony, it earns its space, even if it’s not the star.
The Danger of the Forced Object
When an object, especially a product, exists in a frame purely because someone said, “We need to include this,” the image suffers. It’s easy to recognize these kinds of photos; they look professional, maybe even polished, but they don’t feel true. The object seems like an afterthought or, worse, like an imposition.
The youngest generation of consumers especially, is incredibly attuned to this kind of inauthenticity. They don’t want to be told what to buy. They want to be part of something—invited into a story, an experience, a moment. They value subtlety over salesmanship, meaning over marketing.
So, when a product is “just there” in the background, untouched and irrelevant to what’s happening, it feels like noise. It’s the equivalent of Chekhov’s Gun that never gets fired. It creates expectations without a payoff. And that creates disconnection.
Intent Is Everything
None of this is to say that objects—products included—can’t or shouldn’t appear in storytelling visuals. In fact, when done well, they can enrich the scene and increase engagement without feeling forced.
But intent matters. And so does restraint.
Before placing anything in a photo, the question should always be: If I removed this, would the story change? Would the emotion shift? Would the image lose something vital?
If the answer is yes, the object belongs. If not, it’s just noise. And noise, no matter how nicely styled, dilutes the power of the image.
The Takeaway
Whether you’re a photographer, brand strategist, social media manager, or creative director, the principle of Chekhov’s Gun can guide your visual decisions: Everything must have a purpose. Objects should deepen the story, not distract from it. They should connect, not clutter.
In an age where attention is fleeting and authenticity is currency, every detail counts. So let’s hang fewer props on the wall—and make sure that, when we do, they matter.