Worn Into Battle

Synopsis

A camera that never stops, down a dark stage where every set it passes catches fire.

One unbroken push down the centre of a dark soundstage. Standing sets wait on either side, grey and unlit — a car, a sneaker, a perfume, a drink, a wall of screens, a stadium. The camera draws level and each one ignites in its own colour, in two frames, then drains back to grey as it recedes behind. At the end of the track, a plumed helmet on a workbench.

The plume is the control: same density, same length, same gradient in every shot. The worlds are allowed to differ wildly — that is what makes its constancy read. No faces, no voice-over, no text until the last card. It is built to be understood with the sound off.