The biggest question in Section C — two production features, one work, your chance to show everything you know. Worth more than a third of your whole Section C mark.
A 12-mark Discuss question always has three fixed ingredients:
For example, an exam-style question for Artificial Things:
Three more example questions, showing the pattern:
Unlike the 6-mark ladder, the 12-mark ladder uses 4 levels, each covering a range of marks. The examiner puts you in a level first, then decides where you sit within it.
At 12 marks, you need a framework that builds all the way from description to evaluation. There are two structures you can use — pick whichever feels more natural and stick with it.
They're essentially the same thing — the labels differ, but the ideas map directly onto each other:
Walk through a real DLIE answer. This is the opening paragraph of a top-band exemplar answer for Infra. Tap each button to highlight how each sentence plays its role:
Read the paragraph, then tap D, L, I, E to highlight each part:
At 6 marks, you explain. At 12 marks, you also interpret — you tell the examiner what something could mean, symbolise or represent. This is the single biggest difference between the two question types.
Two full mark-scheme style exemplars. Both would score in the top band. Tap Show DLIE colouring to see how the structure works.
The dancers wear individual costumes that show their character. For example, Mother wears a 1940s floral tea dress whereas Father wears grey trousers, white collarless shirt and brown waistcoat. Son and Daughter are more youthful in their costuming: Daughter wearing a grey skirt and cotton blouse, her hair in a ponytail. Daughter's outfit perhaps symbolising a school uniform; Son perhaps shows all the rebelliousness of youth with his untidy untucked shirt. These costumes are important because they tell us that this is a small family and so supports the choreographic intent.
The colours of the costumes are muted: pale blues, pink, white and brown and the fabrics simple cottons. In addition, the children wear oversized overcoats at the end which could suggest that the coats are hand me downs or the children are malnourished. These aspects support the choreographic intention because the costumes imply that the family are poor. In addition, the fact that the males have rolled up sleeves could suggest manual labour — a lower status employment.
The aural setting for Daughter's Solo features a shrill, harsh solo violin playing a rapid erratic melody. This immediately suggests panic and agitation and is a shock for the audience right from the start. It supports the fear of the unseen outside force because of the tense mood it creates. In addition, the rapid melody running this way and that suggests a trapped desperate atmosphere and again supports the fear of the outside force because it creates a feeling that the dancer needs to escape.
The aural setting for Son is more forceful. The violin shrieks out now in a high shrill desperate outburst punctuated with pauses. The pauses could suggest that he is listening for footsteps outside the door, supported by his pauses in the movement at the same moment. The music therefore supports the idea of family as well as the fear of the unseen force from the choreographic intention due to Son taking on a more protective, attacking role.
The costume and aural setting have vital importance at the end. The children wear their oversized coats with shoes, the parents wear coats and hats. The piano and violin play quietly in unison in a minor key, getting softer and slower as the dance draws to an end. This use of costume has such importance because it tells the audience that they are leaving, and supports the choreographic intention because now it is time to face the outside force face on. This creates a large amount of empathy in the audience. Low piano notes end the dance, suggesting death. The dance ends in silence, the audience left to reflect on the terrors of war.
At the beginning of Infra, we hear a soundscape of everyday noises: muffled speech, a train whistle, radio static. There is also the high pitched beep of morse code underneath. The muffled speech and radio static create 'white noise' and could suggest the general noise of a city where we zone out of people's conversations. The train whistle suggests the London Underground, perhaps the white noise suggesting the busy commuter environment. All of these sounds support the stimulus of 'below the surface of a city' but also the London Bombings, which took place on tube trains. This soundscape is highly effective because the jumbled sounds immerse the audience into an eerie subterranean world from the start and create tension.
The lighting also supports these ideas during this section. Three mid intensity pools of white light sit in a horizontal line downstage within a white wash. Upstage is closed down in darkness. The mood created is dark, bleak and tense and so supports the stimulus of 'below' and the London Bombings as it contributes to the idea of an underground location. The blackness upstage is effective because it allows the dancers to appear from within the gloom and use it as an entrance — they seem to fade in to the action, further supporting the air of mystery.
In the middle of the dance, six rectangles of white light encase six duets. The rectangles could suggest a variety of things: perhaps the illuminated windows of houses supporting the stimulus of seeing below the surface and a glimpse into what goes on behind closed doors. Perhaps light thrown through drain covers from above. The aural setting at this point has two countermelodies: the top melody a high, fluid violin and an agitated melody underneath. The contrast between the two melodies could support the stimulus of life beneath the surface — the smoother melody suggesting a controlled outward persona whereas the agitated lower one suggesting the true emotion inside.
Later, there is a duet for two women upstage right in counterpoint to a male solo downstage left. The aural setting for this section is a simple, gentle yet sad piano melody with pauses. The radio static and train whistle echo in the distance. The piano melody and the stillness of the pauses could suggest grief and the suffering of the people following the London Bombings deaths. The lighting also contributes to this with low intensity deep blue beams of light and stark white sidelighting. This suggests a depressed, grief stricken mood and highlights the raw emotion shown by the male dancer, supporting the stimulus of 'life below the surface of a city' in the sense that it shows the real emotional person underneath the faceless commuter.
These are the patterns that cap students at Level 1–2 when they should be at Level 3–4.
A 12-mark Discuss question and DLIE-structured model answer for each work. Tap Show DLIE colouring to see how the structure maps onto the answer.
At the start, a glass vitrine (display cabinet) lies on its side upstage left, filled with snow. Laura's collapsed wheelchair lies on its side downstage right, and linear pathways of paper snow trail from DSR to USL. The pale grey floor has a wide wooden border that creates the shape of a snow globe, directly referencing the stimulus. The collapsed wheelchair is a direct recreation of the stimulus image. In my opinion, the paper snow creates tracks on the floor, symbolising journeys and pathways through life. The vitrine could represent being trapped in a museum of one's own limitations — a display cabinet within a display cabinet. This is effective because the sparse set forces the audience to focus on the dancers and their relationships, while the collapsed wheelchair hooks their curiosity from the start — why is it collapsed? What has happened?
A headless mannequin in an old-fashioned brown suit stands on three stools upstage, and the painted backcloth features vertical streaks of blue, green and brown inspired by Goran Djurovic's paintings. The mannequin could represent Dave's father — a figure from the past, incomplete, frozen in time. The paint streaks echo the dip-dye effect on the costumes. The vertical paint streaks create a visually striking backdrop that echoes the costumes, creating a unified aesthetic world that immerses the audience in the stimulus landscape.
The aural setting opens with a soundscape of swirling, blustery wind echoing into the distance, with muffled crunching noises suggesting footsteps in snow. A distant violin floats in the wind. The wind creates vastness and bleakness, immersing the audience in the stimulus of an isolated figure in a snow-covered landscape. The distant violin is actually a snippet of Dave's solo song, foreshadowing the ending — this could suggest that the resolution already exists within the piece from the beginning, we just cannot hear it clearly yet. This opening is effective because the audience are immediately transported to a cold, desolate place — they feel the isolation physically.
In the Gliding Trio, piano keys are swiped to create a glissando effect, and strings inside the piano are strummed creating a metallic whooshing sound, developing into a delicate tinkling melody and a musical box type sound. The glissando creates a cascading effect — like shaking a snow globe and watching the snow swirl, cascade down, settle, then shake again. The musical box sound could suggest a magical, icy feel — perhaps echoes of Christmas or childhood memories trapped in time. This is impactful because it creates a sense of nostalgia and fragility for the audience, as though something precious could shatter at any moment, perfectly supporting the stimulus.
49 overhead lights pointing directly downwards create a chequerboard (7×7 grid) effect on the stage floor in multiple colours. The timing and cues are pre-programmed to change throughout. The chequerboard looks like a giant colourful dance floor at a party, directly supporting the celebration of Brazilian culture. This could suggest a giant game board — the dancers are players in a game of fun, flirtation and competition. The blackouts between squares could symbolise the unpredictability of carnival — anything could appear from the darkness. The constantly shifting colours create visual excitement and keep the audience energised throughout — they gasp and laugh as dancers pop up in unexpected squares.
In the Battle section, the lighting shifts to warm orange sidelighting, creating an arena effect. In the Adage Septet, the lighting drops suddenly to just 7 yellow squares only. The warm orange could symbolise heat, passion and aggression — the atmosphere getting heated between the competing men. In contrast, dropping to just 7 yellow squares creates intimacy and contrast, showing the 'curved line' of the work's energy. Both lighting states support different sides of Brazilian culture — the competitive, fiery side and the slower, sensual side. This is important because the sudden reduction to 7 quiet yellow squares after the high energy creates a beautiful, contemplative moment — the audience can breathe and appreciate the dancers' skill.
The opening movement features all 28 dancers in unison within their allocated coloured squares, using samba hip isolations, shoulder rolls and rhythmic dynamics. 28 dancers moving in unison creates a samba parade feel, directly linking to the celebration of Brazilian culture. This could suggest community and togetherness — the idea that in Brazilian culture, celebration is a shared, communal experience. This is effective because 28 dancers moving together is visually spectacular and overwhelming — the audience are swept up in the energy from the very start.
The Battle section features competitive capoeira-influenced duets with kicks over the head, dodges, contact work and circular pathways. The men challenge each other for dominance. These duets explore how Brazilian men communicate — showing off and competing for attention. In my opinion, it could represent the machismo culture and male competition that exists alongside the celebration — it's fun but also shows male rivalry. This created impact because the confrontational movement builds tension and excitement, keeping the audience on the edge of their seats.
Section 1 (Genesis) opens with eerie swirling electronic sounds, zapping noises and a deep pulsating drum beat — almost primal. The pulsating drum could suggest a heartbeat — the beginning of life and the start of the emancipation journey. In my opinion, the zapping sounds could suggest electrical impulses kickstarting life — the moment of creation. The whole soundscape is 'womb-like', representing the very beginning. This is effective because the unusual opening immerses the audience in a primal, mystical world from the very start, preparing them for the journey to come.
Section 4 (Empowerment) uses 'Til Enda' by Ólafur Arnalds. It begins with soft, delicate piano then builds to an aggressive, driving rhythm with violins and a Chariots of Fire-like motif. The driving rhythm signals the motif building to the climactic cyclorama reveal — the moment of complete emancipation. This could symbolise the journey from repression to complete freedom — the music embodying the struggle and ultimate release. The building intensity is overwhelming — the audience feel the power and excitement, and are released emotionally when the cyclorama opens, feeling the liberation alongside the dancers.
A prominent blue wash from above covers the stage throughout much of the work, with spotlights highlighting individuals. Theatrical fog and smoke catch the blue light, creating a textured, atmospheric environment. The pale blue pools could symbolise a watery, embryonic environment for the Genesis-themed beginning. In my opinion, the fog could represent the struggle to see clearly — before emancipation, expression is clouded and confined. The unlit stage edges could represent the boundaries and limitations that the dancers are fighting to break free from. The fog catching the blue light creates a beautiful, textured atmosphere that is visually stunning and hypnotic — drawing the audience into the mystery.
Near the end of the work, the black backdrop flies out to reveal a white cyclorama lit pale purple. The stage transforms from dark and confined to light and open — this perfectly embodies emancipation. The pale purple cyclorama could symbolise dawn, new beginnings, or enlightenment — the dancers have been set free from the darkness. This created impact because the transformation from dark to light is the most dramatic moment of the whole work — the audience feel a tangible sense of release and freedom alongside the dancers.
The live dancers wear fitted shorts, vests and t-shirts in flesh, black, white and grey. One female wears a short wrap-around skirt and the females wear pointe shoes. The tight-fitting costumes in muted colours suggest underwear or leisurewear, representing the dancers' inner, private lives — directly embodying the 'below the surface' stimulus. The flesh-coloured costumes could suggest vulnerability and exposure, as if we are seeing people stripped down to their truest selves. The muted palette could also symbolise sadness, grief or the everyday ordinariness of city life beneath its busy surface. This is effective because the audience feel they are seeing something intimate and private — they become voyeurs peering beneath the surface.
By contrast, the LED figures on the screen above wear outdoor 'public' clothing: overcoats, briefcases, pencil skirts and heels. The contrast between the two layers of costume supports 'below the surface' directly — the audience see the private selves underneath what the figures show the world. In my opinion, this could represent the difference between our public persona and our private emotions — what we show the world versus what we truly feel. The visual difference between the two layers is important because it makes the audience acutely aware of the gap between public and private life.
The set, designed by Julian Opie, features an 18m LED screen suspended high on the back wall, running the full width of the stage. White electronic walking figures move across it constantly. The LED figures suspended above are emotionless, contrasting sharply with the emotional duets below. This is the essence of surface vs depth that the stimulus demands. This could suggest the anonymous surface of city life — people going about their daily routines, oblivious to the emotions below. The figures are simple, emotionless outlines, the opposite of the raw humanity of the dancers. This is effective because the constant movement above creates a hypnotic backdrop — the audience are drawn to look up and down, experiencing the two layers simultaneously.
At the climax, the LED figures suddenly all walk stage right to stage left, mirroring the crowd onstage. The rest of the set is a black box with no scenery. The empty blackness could suggest the London Underground, linking to the London Bombings stimulus. The stage filling with real and virtual people captures the crowd imagery of Eliot's Waste Land. The climax moment could represent the overwhelming nature of city life — suddenly the boundaries between real and virtual, surface and depth, collapse completely. This created impact because the stage suddenly filling with real and virtual people is overwhelming and visually stunning — a physical representation of the city's crowds finally breaking through to the surface.
Daughter's Solo opens the work, featuring frantic running from upstage left to downstage right, with low-level crouching and urgent rolls on the floor to an agitated violin. Running USL to DSR traces a path from safety to fear — she is drawn to the danger outside despite being afraid. The low-level crouching could suggest she is trying to hide, make herself small, and become invisible to whatever threatens the family. Her panic is contagious — the audience feel her fear and desperation physically in their own bodies right from the opening moments.
At the end, the dancers use pure pedestrian movement — putting coats on, picking up suitcases and performing four slow walks forward before freezing mid-step, looking out at the audience. The simple, everyday action of walking shows the family accepting their fate with quiet dignity — they are finally facing the outside force head-on. In my opinion, the unity of the four slow walks represents the family facing an unknown future together — they have nothing left but each other. This created impact because the simplicity is devastating — there are no grand gestures, just four people walking into the unknown. The audience are left in stunned silence.
The set is minimal: a table, a bench, two stools and a coat stand upstage left. Suitcases and worn-out coats sit on the coat stand from the very start. The emptiness emphasises the family's isolation — the few belongings suggest poverty, and the suitcases foreshadow the sad ending from the very first moment. The empty blackness surrounding the furniture could suggest the unknown dangers beyond the family's small, safe world. The suitcases could represent the inevitability of leaving — the family always knew this day would come. This is effective because the emptiness forces the audience to focus entirely on the family's relationships, creating intense emotional engagement from start to finish.
During Son's Solo, he drags the furniture around the stage, tips the table over, and uses the stools as weapons. The furniture becomes part of the choreography — the table as centre of the family world is destroyed, showing his response to the outside threat. In my opinion, Son tipping over the table could represent his frustration and anger — he is destroying the family's safe space because he cannot cope with the fear. The coats on the coat stand could also symbolise a past life or the previous occupants of the house. The violence against ordinary furniture is shocking and physical — the audience feel his rage and desperation. When the family finally put on the coats at the end, the emotional weight is devastating because the suitcases suddenly make sense.
The film opens with long, wide shots showing the female walking alone in the empty landscape. As the film progresses, the camera moves gradually closer, and hand-held camera is used in the most intimate moments. The camera mirrors the audience's journey — at first we observe from afar; gradually we are drawn into the intimacy of the relationship. This could suggest the development of love — we start detached and slowly become invested in the emotional connection. The 'twist' is that we are lured in only to realise she may already be lost. The audience feel increasingly drawn into the private world of the couple — the intimacy becomes almost uncomfortable.
The crucifix lift in Flow One is captured at close range — the female's outstretched arms fill the frame, her head dips back as she is supported. The lift has connotations of death and sacrifice, linking to the 'twist' of love and loss in the stimulus. In my opinion, the outstretched arms could represent her giving herself completely — surrendering to love or to death. The dance-for-camera framing makes this unavoidable for the audience. The close framing of this moment forces the audience to absorb its emotional weight fully — they cannot look away.
The female wears a long-sleeved sheer chiffon blouse with a camisole underneath, buttoned right up to the neck. Her cream/beige colours are light and ethereal, and she is barefoot. She blends with the sky — ethereal, heavenly, angel-like, suggesting she may be a memory or ghost. The buttoned collar shows she is guarded, closed, not ready for a new relationship at the start. In my opinion, her light, ethereal colours could suggest she is no longer alive — she could be a ghost or a memory he is replaying. This would be the 'twist' in the love story. The audience subconsciously read the earth/sky contrast — he belongs to the ground and she to the air, creating a sense of separation even when they are together.
Towards the end of the piece, the top two buttons of her blouse come undone. The undone buttons link to her opening up, relaxing, trusting more as the relationship develops. This subtle change could symbolise the twist of the love story — she is letting her guard down despite her earlier resistance. Perhaps she is accepting the relationship, or perhaps she is fading further from reality. The subtle costume change shows the audience the narrative progressing — she is gradually letting her guard down, which creates hope and tenderness.
Three activities linked to the professional works. Complete all three, then submit.
At the start, a glass vitrine lies on its side upstage left, filled with snow. Laura's collapsed wheelchair lies on its side downstage right, and linear pathways of paper snow trail from DSR to USL. The pale grey floor has a wide wooden border that creates the shape of a snow globe, directly referencing the stimulus. The collapsed wheelchair is a direct recreation of the stimulus image. In my opinion, the paper snow creates tracks on the floor, symbolising journeys and pathways through life. This is effective because the sparse set forces the audience to focus on the dancers — and the collapsed wheelchair hooks their curiosity from the start.
A headless mannequin in a brown suit stands on three stools upstage, and the backcloth features vertical streaks of blue, green and brown inspired by Goran Djurovic's paintings. The mannequin could represent Dave's father — a figure from the past, incomplete, frozen in time. The vertical paint streaks create a visually striking backdrop that echoes the costumes, immersing the audience in the stimulus landscape.
The aural setting opens with a soundscape of swirling, blustery wind, with muffled crunching noises suggesting footsteps in snow. A distant violin floats in the wind. The wind creates vastness and bleakness, immersing the audience in the stimulus. The distant violin is actually a snippet of Dave's solo song — this could suggest that the resolution already exists within the piece from the beginning. This opening is effective because the audience are immediately transported to a cold, desolate place.
In the Gliding Trio, piano keys are swiped to create a glissando effect, developing into a delicate tinkling musical box sound. The glissando creates a cascading effect — like shaking a snow globe and watching the snow swirl, cascade down, settle, then shake again. The musical box sound could suggest a magical, icy feel — perhaps childhood memories trapped in time. This is impactful because it creates a sense of nostalgia and fragility, as though something precious could shatter at any moment.
49 overhead lights create a chequerboard (7×7 grid) on the stage floor in multiple colours, pre-programmed to change throughout. The chequerboard looks like a giant colourful dance floor at a party, directly supporting the celebration of Brazilian culture. This could suggest a giant game board — the dancers are players in a game of fun, flirtation and competition. The blackouts between squares could symbolise the unpredictability of carnival. The constantly shifting colours create visual excitement and keep the audience energised throughout.
In the Battle section, lighting shifts to warm orange sidelighting, creating an arena effect. In the Adage Septet, the lighting drops to just 7 yellow squares only. The warm orange could symbolise heat, passion and aggression. Both lighting states support different sides of Brazilian culture — the competitive, fiery side and the slower, sensual side. The sudden reduction to 7 quiet yellow squares after the high energy creates a beautiful, contemplative moment.
The opening movement features all 28 dancers in unison within their allocated coloured squares, using samba hip isolations and rhythmic dynamics. 28 dancers moving in unison creates a samba parade feel, directly linking to the celebration. This could suggest community and togetherness — the idea that in Brazilian culture, celebration is a shared, communal experience. 28 dancers moving together is visually spectacular — the audience are swept up in the energy from the start.
The Battle section features competitive capoeira-influenced duets with kicks over the head, dodges and circular pathways. The men challenge each other for dominance. In my opinion, it could represent the machismo culture and male competition that exists alongside the celebration — it's fun but also shows male rivalry. The confrontational movement builds tension, keeping the audience on the edge of their seats.
Section 1 (Genesis) opens with eerie swirling electronic sounds, zapping noises and a deep pulsating drum beat — almost primal. The pulsating drum could suggest a heartbeat — the beginning of life and the start of the emancipation journey. In my opinion, the zapping sounds could suggest electrical impulses kickstarting life. This is effective because the unusual opening immerses the audience in a primal, mystical world from the very start.
Section 4 (Empowerment) uses 'Til Enda' by Ólafur Arnalds. It begins with soft, delicate piano then builds to an aggressive, driving rhythm with violins. The driving rhythm signals the motif building to the climactic cyclorama reveal — the moment of complete emancipation. This could symbolise the journey from repression to freedom — the music embodying the struggle and ultimate release. The building intensity is overwhelming — the audience feel the power and are released emotionally when the cyclorama opens.
A prominent blue wash from above covers the stage, with theatrical fog and smoke catching the light. The pale blue pools could symbolise a watery, embryonic environment for the Genesis beginning. In my opinion, the fog could represent the struggle to see clearly — before emancipation, expression is clouded and confined. The unlit stage edges could represent the boundaries the dancers are fighting to break free from. The fog catching blue light creates a visually stunning atmosphere.
Near the end, the black backdrop flies out to reveal a white cyclorama lit pale purple. The stage transforms from dark and confined to light and open — this perfectly embodies emancipation. The pale purple cyclorama could symbolise dawn, new beginnings, or enlightenment — the dancers have been set free from the darkness. This is the most dramatic moment of the work — the audience feel a tangible sense of release and freedom alongside the dancers.
The live dancers wear fitted shorts, vests and t-shirts in flesh, black, white and grey, with pointe shoes for the females. The tight-fitting costumes in muted colours suggest underwear or leisurewear, representing the dancers' inner, private lives — directly embodying 'below the surface'. The flesh-coloured costumes could suggest vulnerability and exposure, as if we are seeing people stripped down to their truest selves. This is effective because the audience feel they are seeing something intimate and private — they become voyeurs peering beneath the surface.
By contrast, the LED figures on the screen above wear outdoor 'public' clothing: overcoats, briefcases, pencil skirts and heels. The contrast between the two layers of costume supports 'below the surface' directly — the audience see the private selves underneath what the figures show the world. In my opinion, this could represent the difference between our public persona and our private emotions. The visual difference makes the audience acutely aware of the gap between public and private life.
The set, designed by Julian Opie, features an 18m LED screen suspended high on the back wall, with white electronic walking figures moving across it constantly. The LED figures suspended above are emotionless, contrasting sharply with the emotional duets below — the essence of surface vs depth. This could suggest the anonymous surface of city life — people oblivious to the emotions below. The constant movement above creates a hypnotic backdrop — the audience are drawn to look up and down, experiencing the two layers simultaneously.
At the climax, the LED figures suddenly all walk stage right to stage left, mirroring the crowd onstage. The empty blackness could suggest the London Underground, linking to the London Bombings stimulus. The stage filling with real and virtual people captures the crowd imagery of Eliot's Waste Land. The climax could represent the overwhelming nature of city life — suddenly the boundaries between real and virtual, surface and depth, collapse completely.
Daughter's Solo opens the work with frantic running from upstage left to downstage right, low-level crouching and urgent rolls on the floor to an agitated violin. Running USL to DSR traces a path from safety to fear — she is drawn to the danger despite being afraid. The low-level crouching could suggest she is trying to hide, make herself small, invisible to whatever threatens the family. Her panic is contagious — the audience feel her fear physically from the opening moments.
At the end, the dancers use pure pedestrian movement — putting coats on, picking up suitcases, and performing four slow walks forward before freezing mid-step looking out at the audience. The simple everyday action of walking shows the family accepting their fate with quiet dignity. In my opinion, the unity of the four walks represents the family facing an unknown future together — they have nothing left but each other. The simplicity is devastating — there are no grand gestures, just four people walking into the unknown.
The set is minimal: a table, a bench, two stools and a coat stand upstage left with suitcases and worn-out coats from the very start. The emptiness emphasises the family's isolation — few belongings suggest poverty, and the suitcases foreshadow the ending. The empty blackness could suggest the unknown dangers beyond the family's small, safe world. This is effective because the emptiness forces the audience to focus entirely on the family's relationships.
During Son's Solo, he drags the furniture, tips the table over, and uses the stools as weapons. The furniture becomes part of the choreography — the table as centre of the family world is destroyed. In my opinion, Son tipping the table could represent his frustration and anger — he is destroying the safe space because he cannot cope. The violence against ordinary furniture is shocking — when the family finally put on the coats at the end, the emotional weight is devastating.
The film opens with long wide shots showing the female walking alone in the empty landscape. As the film progresses, the camera moves gradually closer, and hand-held camera is used in the most intimate moments. The camera mirrors the audience's journey — at first we observe from afar; gradually we are drawn into the intimacy of the relationship. This could suggest the development of love — we start detached and slowly become invested. The audience feel increasingly drawn into the private world of the couple — the intimacy becomes almost uncomfortable.
The crucifix lift in Flow One is captured at close range — the female's outstretched arms fill the frame, her head dips back as she is supported. The lift has connotations of death and sacrifice, linking to the 'twist' of love and loss in the stimulus. In my opinion, the outstretched arms could represent her giving herself completely — surrendering to love or to death. The close framing forces the audience to absorb its emotional weight fully — they cannot look away.
The female wears a long-sleeved sheer chiffon blouse with a camisole underneath, buttoned right up to the neck, with cream/beige colours, and is barefoot. She blends with the sky — ethereal, heavenly, angel-like, suggesting she may be a memory or ghost. The buttoned collar shows she is guarded, closed. In my opinion, her light ethereal colours could suggest she is no longer alive — she could be a ghost or a memory. This would be the 'twist'. The audience subconsciously read the earth/sky contrast — he belongs to the ground and she to the air.
Towards the end of the piece, the top two buttons of her blouse come undone. The undone buttons link to her opening up, trusting more as the relationship develops. This subtle change could symbolise the twist of the love story — she is letting her guard down despite her earlier resistance. Perhaps she is accepting the relationship, or fading further from reality. The subtle change shows the narrative progressing — creating hope and tenderness.