The Dream of the missing Voice (example: “Young Royals”)

Sex scenes are always symbolically meaningful – and so are scenes depicting physical intimacy more broadly.

The scene we’re going to examine today, however, is not a sex scene (it’s not even an intimacy scene) – at least not in the classical sense.

It’s a dream scene, and that’s very important to keep in mind throughout this entire shot-by-shot analysis that we’re going to undertake today.

Dream scenes on screen are ubiquitous like sand. And the reason for that is that dreams are every filmmaker’s…well, dream.

They all love themselves a good dream scene because there’s just so much you can do with it: You can show your audience your main protagonist’s hidden thoughts, desires and fears with the help of a dream. You can take your hero’s issues and wrap them up in a neat little dream parcel for your viewers to unpack. And you can visualize all of that with the help of metaphors and symbols and allegory. In other words, what’s true for sex scenes and scenes of physical intimacy, goes double for dream scenes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a dream scene on screen that wasn’t stacked to the rafters with symbolism.

So, approaching a scene like the dream scene that specifically opens the second season of ‘Young Royals’ with this in mind is paramount if we want to understand what it is all about:

It is most likely more than just a scene about tenderness and some sweet, sweet loving. Since it’s a dream, it was probably most carefully crafted so as to tell us something very important about Wilhelm’s issues – most likely, his core issue as a character (because that’s how dream scenes usually work).

What else do we have to understand about the dream setting?

When you have a dream about, say, your neighbour destroying your garden fence (or something), you don’t expect them to apologize to you the next day. In fact, you don’t expect them to know anything about that (unreal, dreamed-up) incident. And you also don’t expect the fence to be damaged in any way. You understand that that dream was entirely on you.

You dreamt it. Your neighbour hasn’t got anything to do with it. The dream is telling you something about you. About your problems and issues, hidden fears and secret desires. Your dream is about your subconscious trying to work something out, working through some unresolved issue.

So, your dream might mean you have unresolved issues with your neighbour. (Or perhaps it means you’re secretly attracted to them and want them to metaphorically tear down the emotional boundaries between the two of you. I don’t know; this is not my area of expertise.) There’s one thing we can be absolutely certain of, though: That person in your dream wasn’t really your neighbour. It was you. All the people in your dreams are you. Always. That’s the nature of dreaming.

So, when you were dreaming of talking to your neighbour over the garden fence, for example, whether you were admonishing them for the destruction of the fence or praising them for it, you need to always keep in mind that both people engaged in that dialogue (on both sides of the fence) were actually you – just you.

The dream is about your thoughts and your issues. The neighbour in your dream was your subconscious talking.

In other words, when you approach a dream scene in a movie or a TV show (and boy, are there a lot of them!), you always have to keep in mind who the dreamer is. It’s their dream, after all. And everyone we see in the dream is them, as well – even when there are several people in the dream. (Unless we’re talking Christopher Nolan’s ‘Inception’, in which case, things get a lot more complicated, of course.)

So, when we examine the dream scene at the beginning of episode one of season two on ‘Young Royals’, we have to keep in mind that this is Wilhelm’s dream; we’re seeing everything from his perspective. We’re in his mind – not in Simon’s. The Simon we see in that dream isn’t real; that’s Wilhelm’s subconscious talking. Everyone in a dream is always the dreamer themselves. And everyone in Wilhelm’s dream is Wilhelm’s subconscious because Wilhelm is the dreamer. This, by the way, is specifically pointed out to us several times in that brief dream scene: We get to actually see Wilhelm lying on his back and sleeping while he’s dreaming. The show makes extra-sure we do understand it by including those two shots of him lying in bed still asleep (and then a third one in which he wakes up).

These shots of Wilhelm lying in bed bring me to the next vital point we have to keep in mind before we dive into this scene headfirst (nosefirst? There will be a lot of noses, I promise): 

We have to understand that this isn’t actually one scene. What we’re seeing are, in fact, two scenes that were cross-cut with each other in editing. (When scenes are cross-cut, we’re often meant to understand that they’re happening at the same time.)

The two scenes are, of course: 

• the dream, in which we have Wilhelm and dream-Simon interacting in a dreamed-up intimacy scenario, 

• and reality, in which we get to see only Wilhelm (and no Simon) lying in bed on his back.

To make it easier for us to keep the two scenes apart, the show’s creators actually gave us a little visual aid: They used the 180-degree rule to their advantage.

We have discussed the 180-degree rule in cinematography at length before, but if you’re new to these parts, here’s a little summary:

Cinematography always tries to maintain continuity of space (in order to make it easier for the viewer to follow what’s going on). This means that, in a scene with two characters, for example, the camera (marked as ‘initial position’ in the image below) will always stay on one side of an imaginary line, so the audience will always see character A on the left side of the frame and character B on the right throughout the entire scene, no matter where the camera moves in the half circle (half-)surrounding the characters:

The 180-degree rule is broken only rarely (marked as ‘subsequent position’ here), in which case the audience will suddenly see character A appear on the right side of the frame and character B on the left. This rule break can occur for different reasons (for example, to denote a power shift between the characters over the course of the scene in question, to disconcert the audience through a sudden disruption of the spatial continuum of the scene or to simply give the viewers’ eyes a little visual variety to feast on).

What ‘Young Royals’ did in this scene, however, isn’t technically a rule break so much as a hint:

The camera jumps the 180-degree line every time the scene shifts between dream and reality. Consequently, we see Simon on the left side of the frame and Wilhelm on the right whenever we’re in the dream. Whenever we’re seeing reality, on the other hand, Wilhelm is suddenly on the left (!) side of the frame and…there’s no Simon on the right because Simon isn’t real, and sadly he isn’t lying in bed with Wilhelm.

In other words, if you keep track of which side of the frame Wilhelm appears on, you can instantly work out if you’re seeing the dream or reality (Wilhelm on the left=reality; Wilhelm on the right=dream).

There’s another entirely visual element that the show uses to make sure we really understand that that whole dream scene is actually two cross-cut scenes:

Throughout the dream, Wilhelm and Simon’s upper bodies are upright. Whenever we see reality, Wilhelm is lying on his back, so his body is horizontal (because he’s actually lying in bed on his back, fast asleep).

Simon and Wilhelm inside Wilhelm’s dream are not asleep, obviously; they’re engaged in a very private moment of intimacy, which is why the show chose to keep them both upright instead of supine. (Please keep in mind that this has nothing to do with real life. In real life, you can be intimate with your partner in every which way; I don’t care, and I don’t judge. A TV show isn’t real life, though. It has to come up with a visual way to communicate meaning to its audience. In this case, the filmmakers decided to keep the characters upright to show us that the characters in the dream are interacting, not sleeping. Outside of the dream, Wilhelm is actually asleep, so he’s lying on his back, to make it easier for us to understand what’s going on).

There’s one last thing to keep in mind before we start with our little shot-by-shot analysis and that’s the fact that throughout this whole scene (or technically those two scenes), we don’t hear anyone utter a single word!

That’s very, very important because it touches upon the core message of this whole dream scene, the reason why it exists and why the show’s creators most likely decided to put it at the very beginning of not just an episode but an entire season.

It’s a completely silent scene except for the heavy breathing (and the soundtrack overlaying it, of course).

The reason why we, as viewers, notice this is the fact that the last scene we saw before this one was the one in the season finale of season one in which Wilhelm verbally and explicitly told Simon he loved him. The next scene we’re seeing in the show’s universe is one in which Wilhelm is interacting with dream-Simon, and yet we don’t hear him say, “I love you, Simon,” a dozen more times. More importantly, we don’t hear Simon say, “I love you,” back to him either. (Remember that this is a dream; Wilhelm can dream up whatever he wishes and desires. And, well, let’s face it, that’s probably what he desires most.)

Obviously, the writers kept the whole scene of Simon saying it back for much, much later in the season for a good reason (character development, plot etc.), but even if we concede this, we still have to ask ourselves why nobody is murmuring any endearments in that scene, why they aren’t whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears. The whole scene is conspicuous for its silence.

Of course, you could argue that the absence of any dialogue coupled with the heavy breathing heightens the feeling of intimacy we get from this scene, and I’m sure there’s something to that explanation. But I think the reason for this silence goes a bit deeper than just that, and we will see in a minute why that’s plausible.

So, in short, we get to hear them breathe, and we get to hear the soundtrack, but there’s no talking, whispering, singing or humming happening in that scene. Nothing (except for some air) comes out of their mouths. (That’s important!)

All in all, there are three things I want you to keep in mind while we’re examining this scene:

1. This is a dream, and Wilhelm is the dreamer (who’s working through his issues in this scene).

2. This isn’t technically one scene; these are two crosscut scenes: Wilhelm’s dream and the reality in which Wilhelm is lying in bed, sleeping.

3. The whole thing is conspicuous for its silence.

Okay, now that we’ve established that, let’s go!

First things first, the dream scene at the beginning of the season opener of season two is not just about Wilhelm missing Simon (although that’s, of course, a large part of it); it’s about more than just him loving Simon and desiring him, as well. Dreams are essentially problem solving on a subconscious level. That’s why it’s always important to pay attention to dreams when they happen in a story (whether in a book or on screen). Dreams are a very effective storytelling technique in that way because, as I mentioned above, they usually tell us something about a character’s core problem.

Well, perhaps, problem solving isn’t even the right term for that. What a dream is doing (at least in a fictional story on screen) is: It’s pointing out issues to the dreamer, trying to make sure the dreamer notices what the actual central point of their whole problem is. Whether the character gets up to any problem solving once they wake up is an entirely different matter, of course, because the dream is obviously the dreamer’s subconscious talking; how much the dreamer is then consciously prepared to change their life afterwards (how much the dreamer even retains of that dream) often remains an open question.

In any case, as we will see in a minute, that’s exactly what’s going on in Wilhelm’s dream. It’s not just an erotic dream and not just a romantic dream either. It’s a dream in which Wilhelm is trying to make heads or tails of the main problem of season one that has followed him right into season two. And that’s why that scene is not an intimacy scene per se but specifically a classic dream scene, the way it’s often depicted on screen.

The structure of the dream scene

The first thing that should jump out at us when we examine the shots of this whole dream scene is that there are exactly eight of them (in the ninth, Wilhelm wakes up and the light notably changes).

These eight shots are structured in a symmetrical way: We get three shots that belong together, then two shots forming another unit, and then three shots belonging together again.

As we will see in a second, both three-shot-units are in themselves symmetrical again: In both three-shot-units the first and the last shot reflect each other, the one in the middle stands out (by emphasizing Wilhelm).

The two-shot-unit in the middle shows us the central point of the whole dream; that’s the whole reason why the dream exists.

This gives us a beautiful and elaborate triptych structure (that contains yet other substructures):

As you will see in a moment, all the shots are thematically linked with each other, but this is even more true for the connection inside the separate three units.

What’s particularly interesting about the whole scene is that it consists entirely of extreme close-ups. That’s something you wouldn’t expect from an ordinary scene (in reality, outside of a dream setting) where extreme close-ups are very rare and usually used to specifically draw our eye to some detail or other. But it has several advantages in this dream setting: There are no props and virtually no details in the environment of the two characters distracting us. It showcases the closeness of the two characters on screen. But it also, you’ve guessed it, means something: It directs our eye to the action itself happening in each and every shot. Nothing else is important. That one gesture you see per shot, this tells us, is what’s carrying the semantic meaning in each and every shot.

Shot by shot

Let’s look at the dream scene shot by shot now. (By the way, I hope you’ll excuse the lack of any drawings in this post. I’m wading knee-deep through the character-centred posts at the moment, typing my fingers raw, so time is a bit of a constraint right now. The shots in this dream scene aren’t very complicated in terms of composition or camera angles, though, and once you’ve figured out how the show works with the 180-degree rule (which we have), you don’t need any pictures for them. So, I hope this verbal breakdown sans images is fine by you.)

So, here goes:

What we’re seeing in the first shot (the first A panel in the image above) is Simon on the left side of the screen and Wilhelm on the right (so we know this is actually inside the dream). Simon has his nose buried in the area of Wilhelm’s clavicle/general shoulder area and is nuzzling him.

As I said above, this was shot in an extreme close-up to tell us that each of the gestures we see per shot is what’s carrying the meaning in the shot. 

So, the metaphor we get in this first shot is, of course, Simon nuzzling/smelling Wilhelm.

The ‘nose’ metaphor is a metaphor that’s specific to this particular show. (Although it’s not entirely unheard of in visual storytelling.) And I’m happy to say that we haven’t talked about it yet, so here’s something completely fresh for all our metaphor-craving brains:

You see, the ‘nose’ and the activity of ‘smelling’ on this show represent yearning/longing/even sexual desire.

This is made really obvious throughout season two whenever Simon literally sniffs that orange jumper/sweater he pilfered from Wilhelm in episode two. Simon burying his whole face in it and smelling it is an obvious sign of his very physical and very visceral longing in those scenes.

And at least we get a really positive resolution via this metaphor in episode five of season two, as well: When Simon and Wilhelm embrace in Wilhelm’s room, Simon gets to smell Wilhelm’s clothes and skin for real. We see him do it. And if you look at their embrace closely, you will realize that Wilhelm’s nose is doing the exact same thing, as well. Again, we get a strong hint that ‘smelling’ and the ‘nose’ in general represent sexual desire/longing. (About three seconds later they crash into each other and then proceed to have sex.)

Or think of Sara.

Having had sex with August for the very first time in season two, she returns to her and Felice’s bedroom and literally tells us that she likes his smell. (A brilliant moment in which Felice is not in on the joke and assumes that Sara’s talking about the horse, but we, the audience notably are, so we know this is about August.) That sex must have been pretty good if Sara longs for that boy and desires him about three minutes after she’s left his warm embrace. Oh, to be young again. Oh, well…

(By the way, I’m intentionally leaving out August’s line, “You smell like a horse,” and the later line, “Not so much horse smell this time.” It’s just that I want to write a separate post about Rousseau at some point; otherwise this article here would just balloon out of proportion.)

We see the ‘nose’ metaphor in other scenes as well, though:

Remember that scene in which Sara smells Felice’s perfume when she’s in her room? 

Obviously, that doesn’t mean she’s sexually attracted to Felice. That moment of her smelling the little bottle is a marker the writers have left there for us, a sign telling us, “Now, pay close attention. What comes next is going to be about sexual desire!” And sure enough, the next thing she grabs off Felice’s windowsill is a photograph of August. (Important point: metaphors are there to communicate with us, the audience. They don’t exist in-universe. Obviously. That means it’s perfectly possible that Sara doesn’t yet know that what she’s beginning to feel somewhere deep, deep down are the first stirrings of sexual desire and longing, that all of that is happening in the far recesses of her mind, buried so far down in her subconscious that it’s not accessible to her. But the show is communicating with us, the viewers, and telling us that that’s what’s going on and that’s what we can expect to happen.)

This scene is beautifully paralleled in a scene in which Wilhelm touches Simon’s cologne bottles when he’s wandering around Simon’s room for the first time. Cologne is something you can smell. So, Wilhelm sexually desires Simon, this scene tells us. Wilhelm is longing for Simon in a physical way. And sure enough, the scene ends with the two boys getting busy. (We actually don’t need to be told that Wilhelm’s feelings of attraction transcend the sexual and are deeply romantic, as well. The ‘Music’ poster screaming at us from the wall in Simon’s room tells us all we need to know about that scene.)

What you can see here is that lovely details like the sudden emphasis on those perfume/cologne bottles (when actors interact with props, then there’s emphasis on them) don’t exist just to tell us what scent Felice or Simon use. On screen and in fiction in general, details are meaningful.

So, watch out for noses on this show, for people smelling things, for people opening or even just touching perfume bottles or anything that smells, for that matter. Because this is a clear-cut metaphor, and when we want to find out something about the way sexual desire is written on this show, we better pay attention to it.

If you want, you can even count the way Wilhelm and Simon breathe each other in with both noses and mouths during their first time as an example of this metaphor. (It’s a sex scene, so sexual attraction is to be expected.)

And the Valentine’s Ball kiss specifically begins with them rubbing noses/nuzzling each other, as well, so, you know…a lot of unresolved sexual tension right there – the ‘nose’ metaphor in full force. (We will see later, towards the end of this article, that the Valentine’s Ball kiss scene is actually a clear callback to the dream scene we’re discussing here, by the way.)

As far as the ‘nose’ metaphor is concerned, I’m low-key hoping for a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment with the Queen in season three, in which she reveals that she has completely lost her sense of smell. I’d be especially happy if the show made sure to mention that everything was alright with her sense of smell when she was younger (presumably when she had that other lover she alluded to), and that she only lost it later on (in a minor accident or something) when she married Ludvig. That would make for a nice little metaphorical detail that would communicate to us who she is and isn’t attracted to. Can we hope she slipped at the altar, smacked her head against the tiled floor, whilst looking at her groom holding out the ring to her? And while the wedding ceremony proceeded without delay, it was later discovered that she had lost her sense of smell during that minor accident…Alright, I’m just having a laugh, and we could all probably come up with other characters with no metaphorical ‘sense of smell’, too. (Jan-Olof, anyone?)

(No offence to anyone who’s actually lost their sense of smell, obviously. In real life, that’s no laughing matter; it’s a tragedy, of course.)

Let me mention one last thing about the ‘nose’ metaphor, and then we can return to our shot analysis: Remember Wilhelm’s severe case of morning breath in episode five of season one? I had written a little thing at the end of the first installment of this series on ‘Young Royals’ a while ago.

Metaphorically speaking, Simon doesn’t like what’s coming out of Wilhelm’s mouth. This clearly foreshadows the statement of denial Wilhelm will make, which is also why Simon covers Wilhelm’s mouth with his hand in that scene, trying to keep that PR nonsense from spilling out (metaphorically: trying to keep the ‘bad smell’ in).

Again you get something about smell in this scene. Only in this one, Simon clearly doesn’t like the smell. And if we keep the ‘nose’ metaphor in mind, we can easily deduce which Wilhelm Simon isn’t attracted to: The Wilhelm he can’t trust. The Wilhelm who breaks his promises. In other words: Breaking your promises, breaking your partner’s trust is an unsexy quality, as far as Simon is concerned: It ‘smells’ bad. It stinks.

Only…then Simon kisses Wilhelm anyway (bad breath and all). 

So, in other words, my statement from above that Simon isn’t sexually attracted to the part of Wilhelm that breaks his trust…well, we’ll need to amend that a little bit, don’t we? 

Because, you see, Simon is sexually attracted to all Wilhelms there are. To all the incarnations of him, even the bad ones. He can’t help himself. He finds Wilhelm sexy. Even after Wilhelm broke his trust. That’s what makes sexual attraction so complicated: Your brain tells you, “No!”, but your body says, “Hell, yeah! I want more of him.” And that’s reflected in that kiss that Simon gives Wilhelm despite the disgusting smell. He’s attracted to him even when there’s a severe case of metaphorical ‘bad breath’.

So, when we return to the analysis of our first shot (A1), I think we can now firmly say that the main action in this shot (Simon with his nose buried in Wilhelm’s shoulder) represents sexual attraction/physical longing etc.

I would like to immediately jump to the third shot (the second A panel in the image above) from here because, as I mentioned above, the first and the third shot are actually directly connected, with the second (i.e. the important central B panel in the middle) being framed by shot A1 and A2.

The third shot (A2) provides us with a clever mirror image of the first: The first shot showed us Simon sticking his metaphorical ‘nose’ in Wilhelm’s business, i.e. shoulder; the third shot gives us Wilhelm sniffing Simon’s shoulder, in turn. In other words, we get the exact same metaphor again, but with the characters reversed. So, taken together, the first and the third shot tell us that their sexual attraction goes both ways. It’s mutual. Simon desires Wilhelm. Wilhelm desires Simon.

Please remember one important rule we established at the beginning of this post, though: All characters in a dream are the dreamer himself. Everything that happens in a dream is about the dreamer. In other words, what this shot shows us isn’t Simon; it’s dream-Simon. The dreamer is Wilhelm, so the first shot simply tells us that Wilhelm knows Simon is sexually attracted to him.

Let’s now get to the interesting shot of this first three-shot-unit: the second shot (the B panel in the image above).

The shot preceding it shows us Simon and the ‘nose’ metaphor (Simon’s sexual attraction to Wilhelm); the shot following it shows us Wilhelm and the ‘nose’ metaphor (Wilhelm’s sexual attraction to Simon), but the shot in the middle, the one being framed by these two mirrored shots is very different.

This middle shot (B) shows us Wilhelm dragging his nose through Simon’s curls and towards Simon’s ear.

Now, none of you need an introduction to the ‘ear’ metaphor (unless you’re really new to this blog). The ‘ear’ metaphor is, of course, merely an extension of the ‘music’ metaphor (‘music’ represents love). In other words, the ‘ear’ represents the heart on this show. This metaphor is specific to this story, i.e. it was specifically created by the writers of this show for their metaphorical subtext. It’s not a universal metaphor like, say, the ‘baggage’ metaphor tends to be. (We will see later that the show actually does use another metaphor for the heart that is universal in the very same dream scene.)

So, the middle shot tells us that Wilhelm is dreaming of touching Simon’s ear (read: heart). His deepest wish seems to be to touch Simon’s heart. 

The shot is different from the other two in this three-shot-unit because we don’t get a mirroring shot for dream-Simon!

In other words, we get shots for sexual attraction (the ‘nose’ metaphor) for both boys, but only Wilhelm’s shot in the middle makes an emphasis on romantic feelings (the ‘ear’ metaphor).

Before you say, “Oh, but how can that be? I know for a fact that Simon loves Wilhelm, too,” remember what we said above about this being a dream: This isn’t real Simon; this is dream-Simon. And Wilhelm is the dreamer.

In short, Wilhelm doesn’t seem to be sure whether Simon actually loves him back. He is trying to reach his ear (read: heart), but the shot notably ends before he can kiss it, for example. And we don’t get a mirroring shot for dream-Simon.

Wilhelm has just recently been dumped by Simon (literally dumped standing next to a dumpster, remember?). It was the first break-up in Wilhelm’s life. Wilhelm has very recently told Simon, “I love you,” and didn’t get a proper reply.

Now, we, the audience, know that Simon loves him back, of course, and is just as heartbroken about the whole ordeal. But Wilhelm doesn’t. Not really. And this three-shot-unit gives us his doubt:

We get two shots that show us mutual sexual attraction, but only one shot showing us Wilhelm’s romantic feelings for Simon. In other words, Wilhelm doesn’t know if their whole relationship was just a physical thing for Simon; he isn’t sure if Simon even harbours any romantic feelings for him. He doesn’t know if the feelings are mutual.

That’s why he can be seen dragging his face towards Simon’s ear but ultimately not reaching his destination or actually doing anything with it (the ear, i.e. the heart). He doesn’t know if he’s truly reaching Simon’s heart and if Simon loves him back. (Spoiler alert: Wilhelm is and Simon does.)

What’s even more interesting about this middle shot (B) is that we see Wilhelm specifically drag his nose towards Simon’s ear. The show could have just as well given us a close-up of Wilhelm trying to touch Simon’s metaphorical ‘ear’ (read: heart) with his fingertips. But it’s the nose! And as we’ve seen above, the ‘nose’ is a well-established metaphor on this show.

This means that the show is mixing these two metaphors (the ‘ear’ metaphor and the ‘nose’ metaphor) into one shot and specifically into one action.

Because for Wilhelm (as we will see later in the character-centred posts), there is no distinction between romance and sexual attraction. These two concepts are the same thing to him.

The nose and the ear are involved in the same action in this shot. Read: Love is sex is love is sex is love…for Wilhelm. (Good luck, Nils, on convincing someone like that to have casual sex of the purchased-and-picked-from-the-menu variety in Switzerland. Casual sex and Wilhelm don’t really seem to mix, this middle shot tells us. So, if I were Nils, I would probably write Wilhelm off as a lost cause.)

The thing Wilhelm doesn’t seem to be sure about is how Simon defines and delineates the concepts of love and sex, and that’s why this symmetrically structured three-shot-unit is actually built around a doubt: “Does Simon love me back?”

Now, you have watched season two all the way through to the end; I have watched season two all the way through to the end. So, we all know that Wilhelm’s doubts are unfounded. Wilhelm will get his wish before the season is over: Simon will touch Wilhelm’s metaphorical ‘ear’ (heart) in reality…and how! (We all remember him really going for Wilhelm’s ear, right?)

What’s more, that (real) intimacy scene in Wilhelm’s room in episode five of season one starts with a hug during which Simon smells Wilhelm’s skin. And if you watch the scene closely, you’ll realise that Wilhelm’s nose is getting busy on Simon’s shoulder, as well.

This is a callback to the dream scene, of course. We get them both sniffing each other again (again in the general vicinity of the shoulder). Note also, how their positions are actually reversed in the frame: In the dream, Wilhelm is always on the right, and Simon is on the left side of the frame. In reality, in episode five of season two, Simon is on the right and Wilhelm is on the left, i.e. the blocking is telling us that things have literally turned around: This isn’t a dream anymore. Wilhelm isn’t lying alone on his back on the left side of the frame anymore. Simon is here now – real Simon! And real-Simon is really attracted to him (hence the ‘nose’ metaphor). The sexual attraction is again shown to be mutual (there’s a lot of sniffing going on), but this time Wilhelm gets an answer to that middle shot (B) from his dream: Simon almost bites his ‘ear’ off. Like…Simon really, really wants Wilhelm’s heart, alright?!

But let’s return to our dream scene.

These three shots (A1: Simon with his nose buried in Wilhelm’s shoulder, B: Wilhelm trying to touch Simon’s ear, and A2: Wilhelm smelling Simon’s shoulder) belong together. They form a unit that I would call the ‘Introduction to the Problem’.

Now comes the next part, the central part of this dream: a two-shot unit (the two C panels in the image above). And these two central panels of our dream triptych essentially show us the core of the problem Wilhelm’s subconscious is trying to address in that dream.

The two shots clearly reference each other:

• Shot C1 shows us Simon touching Wilhelm’s neck.

• Shot C2 (outside of the dream, in reality) shows us Wilhelm touching his own neck, as if imitating what he’s feeling in the dream.

The first of these two shots (that clearly go together) shows us Simon’s hand on Wilhelm’s neck in an extreme close-up. Simon’s fingers caress it and then suddenly slide down and off Wilhelm’s neck. (The gesture isn’t forceful; it looks almost like a very gentle question.)

Then we get a first clear break: The show jumps from the dreamworld of the narrative over to reality for the first time.

In the next shot, Wilhelm is suddenly on the left side of the frame, and he’s also lying on his back. In other words, we’re clearly shown Wilhelm in reality, i.e. outside of the dream. He’s fast asleep. This is the first time in this entire dream shot sequence that we get this other crosscut narrative layer, so we better pay extra attention to it. When a show suddenly jumps from one plane of reality to another, then this usually means, “Look out! Now we’re going to show you something important.”

We also get a little more detail in this second shot. While it’s an extreme close-up, too; we see at least some of Wilhelm’s (blurry) surroundings: one part of the pillow he’s lying on on the left side of the frame and arguably some more difficult-to-make-out part of his bed in the background of the shot.

Wilhelm is in bed alone. (Of course. He is only dreaming of Simon, after all.) But there’s a hand raised to his neck, as well: It’s his own hand – his right hand. (If you try this on your own neck with your right hand, you will notice that it’ll end up in the exact position we are shown in the shot.) The gesture he’s making is a bit peculiar. It’s similar but not identical to Simon’s. He is tapping his neck in a slightly more inquisitive way. (Unlike dream-Simon’s touch, which was all languid caress and gentleness.) Wilhelm’s hand is tapping his neck in a way that one would use if one were to tap someone gently on the shoulder and ask them, “Hey, you!…Uhm, have you got a minute?”

Both these shots (C1 and C2) clearly reference each other, and seeing as we’re getting the first cut to reality here, I’d argue that these two shots are actually very important: What’s being shown in them must be the key to understanding the whole dream scene. 

To decipher what these two shots mean, we will now talk about another metaphor: This one is actually fairly common. So, unlike the ‘ear’ metaphor (for the heart) and the ‘nose’ metaphor (for sexual attraction/longing), this one wasn’t specifically created by the writers for this particular show. 

What I’m talking about is the ‘neck’ metaphor, of course. (A shout-out, at this point, to a very clever commenter on this blog who had already managed to work this metaphor out all on their own before I even got around to writing all of this down. You know who you are. We might have disagreed a bit about whose hand is whose in that scene and what the ‘neck’ metaphor means in this specific context, but that’s not important. You instantly saw the metaphor for what it is. So, Chapeau! Big props to you.)

So, the ‘neck’ metaphor…

Have you ever seen, say, a medical drama in which a character was suddenly unable to speak because they’re throat had swollen shut or they had some other medical condition that suddenly made talking very difficult? What you usually get in a scene like that isn’t an extreme close-up, shot with the camera going down the character’s throat, or a CGI shot of the character’s vocal cords that have stopped working. Instead you will usually get an extreme close-up of the character’s neck (i.e. from the outside) because we all reflexively understand that the neck is what contains the throat, the vocal cords…in other words, a person’s voice.

The neck represents the voice.

Episode one of season one introduced us to Wilhelm’s core conundrum in a brilliantly visual way: Wilhelm can be seen tied to the sculpture of a future King, embracing it, in fact, as if to tell us that he will have to embrace that role for himself…and his mouth is covered: Wilhelm is gagged.

In our first installment to this little ‘Young Royals’ analysis series, I had pointed out that shots like that don’t happen by accident; they mean something: Wilhelm being literally gagged in a scene like that means he will be silenced by the powers that be. (Which is exactly what this show is all about: Wilhelm being forced to remain silent on the matter of his sexuality and the love of his life.)

And now, in a dream (!) scene that functions as the opening scene to an entirely new season, we get two references to the ‘neck’ metaphor in two extreme close-ups (the closest shot size), so we really can’t miss the significance of the neck.

Think of Wilhelm’s signature gesture, that Edvin Ryding (probably with the help of a director and/or the head writer) developed for his character: Wilhelm likes to throw his head back and expose his neck. 

If you carefully track the scenes in which he does so, you will quickly realize that it’s difficult to find a pattern here: Is he doing it when he’s happy? When he’s exuberant? Or when he’s exasperated? Depressed? Nervous?

That’s because examining his gesture in this way takes things far too literal. Television is a visual medium; it’s showing us things. And since showing a voice is difficult and showing a missing voice is pretty much impossible, the screen is showing us the neck as its metaphor instead.

In the first episode of season one (towards the end, when Simon and Wilhelm have escaped the initiation party and are sitting outside), Wilhelm throws his head back and shows us his neck. The gesture is visually telling us, “Watch out. The following scene will be all about Wilhelm’s voice.” And sure enough, Wilhelm and Simon engage in a conversation about Simon’s metaphorical ‘music’ and Simon’s beautiful ‘voice’. (Simon is openly gay. He’s out. He’s singing his truth, his love to the world. His voice can be heard by each and everyone.) Wilhelm then stumbles. He has difficulty singing and can’t remember the words. He also sings in a very low voice as if he doesn’t want to be overheard. Wilhelm can’t raise his voice yet (I mean that metaphorically, of course; we hear him literally shout quite a few times on the show; that’s not what I’m talking about). They sing together, but it comes out disjointed. (We’ve discussed all of this before. Please forgive me for repeating myself.) Metaphorically, we’re being told here that Wilhelm can’t find his voice. And that’s why that scene starts with the show visually showing us his neck! The neck represents the voice. It’s where the voice is supposed to emerge from, but for Wilhelm, that’s a real challenge (for obvious reasons: He’s gagged by the establishment!). 

Don’t get me wrong: The exposed neck doesn’t mean that his own true voice is exposed. (The opposite is true, as a matter of fact). The exposed neck functions as a marker, a little hint, a sign the writers are giving us, that tells us to look out for what’s missing in the scene: the voice! The obvious juxtaposition of the visually exposed neck and the fact that Wilhelm can’t find his voice is brilliant and clever symbolism.

The most obvious occurrence of the ‘neck’ metaphor is probably the moment he throws his head back in the therapist’s office in season two. We see his long exposed neck and nothing, absolutely nothing is coming out of his mouth. He refuses to talk and sits there in silence. The voice is still missing.

During the ‘lake date’ scene in episode five of season one, a happy and carefree scene with some subtle, melancholy undertones, Wilhelm throws his head back as well, showing us his neck. And sure enough the superficially happy scene reveals quite some depth when the two can’t stop talking about what other people might think about them. Simon verbally confirms that Wilhelm is holding back from plastering himself all over Simon because the bodyguards are watching. And they both realize that the metaphorical ‘water’ (a metaphor for feelings/a relationship) is still too cold, i.e. their feelings might be deep, but the relationship is net yet ‘ready’ (warm) enough for them to truly immerse themselves in it. And all of that because Wilhelm is being silenced and isn’t allowed to raise his voice. The neck functions as a little sign reminding us that, yes, this scene is all about Wilhelm’s missing voice, as well. (There’s obviously far more to this gesture, but we’ve had a bit of a love-rant about it in the paid-subscriber corner of this blog, and I’m not going to cover this here again.)

Or think of the scene in episode two of season one: Wilhelm throws his head back as he nervously texts Simon. The neck, that is visually pretty much shoved in our faces, tells us, “This scene is all about Wilhelm searching and searching and searching for his voice.” Wilhelm is nervously looking for the right words to text. It’s difficult to speak from your heart when you’ve never been taught how to do that. Finding his own voice (not just some PR-scripted drivel that has to be learnt by heart and repeated ad nauseam) is very difficult for Wilhelm.

Then comes the cleverest moment of this whole scene, and we’ve discussed this before: In order to be able to reach out for something real (metaphorically: football), Wilhelm has to resort to a lie. (Brilliant juxtaposition, that! It immediately shows us what this character’s problem is.) And that lie in and of itself is so cool when you think about it: He pretends to have a sore throat. We get a shot of him visibly swallowing. We can see how his neck is working in that scene. (Just not in the way it’s actually supposed to, i.e. not telling the truth.)

So, while the whole illness he’s faking here to be with Simon is a lie; it’s not as much of a lie as Wilhelm might think. There’s actually far more truth to it than he realizes: It’s a metaphor. A metaphorically sore throat is preventing him from speaking out, from finding his own voice, a healthy voice, a voice that he needs to find. (Finding his voice in that scene would have presumably meant saying something like this to August, “I don’t even like rowing. I like Simon, and I want to spend time with him. If you want, you can throw me off the team for this; I don’t care, bye.”)

You can probably find more examples of Wilhelm throwing back his head and exposing his neck to us, so as to tell us, “Watch out. The following scene will be all about my missing voice that’s still trapped inside my throat and doesn’t want to come out,” but I think I’ve made my point. 

Props to the costume department, by the way. They put the one character who’s crawled so far up the establishment’s behind he probably doesn’t even know what his own voice sounds like anymore in a turtleneck of all possible pieces of clothing, a sweater visually covering his neck: August isn’t even trying to find his own voice, this seems to be telling us. Great choice.

Just like we have to watch out for noses and perfume bottles and everything that smells if we want to understand something about the depiction of sexual attraction on this show (cf. the ‘nose’ metaphor), we have to look out for necks, sore throats, neckerchiefs and anything that covers the neck if we want to know which characters in this story haven’t managed to find their own voice (yet). That’s the ‘neck’ metaphor.

And what dream-Simon is metaphorically doing in our dream scene (very tentatively and tenderly) when he touches Wilhelm’s neck is: He’s posing a gentle question, “What happened to your voice, Wilhelm? Where is it? Why don’t you speak out?”

(Keep in mind that the silence in this entire dream scene is noticeable; we had made a note of that at the beginning of this article.)

Then we get a cut to reality, and this time it’s Wilhelm himself. His finger is tapping his neck somewhat more inquisitively, “Hey, is anyone in there? What’s inside this neck? Where did my voice go? Why is it missing?”

Another thing that we have to keep in mind is that the Simon in that shot (C1) isn’t real; it’s always Wilhelm’s subconscious talking. So, Wilhelm most likely (and very subconsciously) wants Simon to, you know, give him a little push so he finally speaks out on the matter of being in love with a boy. However much Wilhelm might be repressing all of that consciously: The dream tells us that he clearly wishes for Simon to ask that question, “Why don’t you raise your voice, Wilhelm? Why don’t you come out?”

Which is why we then get the reinforcement of that question in the first shot (C2) in which we see Wilhelm in reality: He is now asking himself, wondering, “Yeah? Why don’t I? What’s stopping me? Where’s my voice?”

What’s so brilliant about this whole scene (and these two shots that are at the centre of our dream triptych) is the fact that Wilhelm is lying in bed at the palace.

The writers specifically decided not to make him dream this dream on his first night back at Hillerska or in the car on the way over or wherever. It’s at the palace! This is also where he will wake up: So, the question of “Where’s my voice? What’s stopping me from speaking out?” gets a very clear and very situational answer: Everything that’s around you, Wilhelm, is what’s stopping you. This world here is set against you speaking out and raising your voice.

The voice is an incredibly important element of the whole symbolism tapestry the show has spread out in front of us.

The voice (represented here by the ‘neck’ metaphor) has to be raised. Someone like Wilhelm can’t remain silent. And since we’ve all seen that incredible speech scene in the finale of season two, we know that he won’t!

The very first scene of season two is centred all around Wilhelm starting to work out (only subconsciously in a dream so far) that, if he wants Simon back, if he wants to touch Simon’s ‘ear’ (heart), he will have to raise his voice and speak out. And in the very last scene of the season, he does just that: He goes off script. He finally finds his own voice.

From looking for his voice with a searching, tapping motion at the beginning of the season (while still asleep!) to finally waking up for real and finding it (decisively and unwaveringly) at the very end of the season. That’s a brilliant character arc.

Look at it in this way: What you can see here is how the show connects all of its metaphors into one beautifully woven tapestry.

The ‘music’ metaphor tells us that music represents love. As I mentioned above, that’s why Simon (an incredibly talented young musician) is singing his truth, his love, to the world freely and without qualms. Simon is openly gay. He’s out. Simon sings. Simon uses his voice. (See how beautifully these things are connected?)

I think the fact that, in Omar Rudberg, the show’s creators didn’t just cast a guy with great talent and a beautiful voice, but also someone who’s been singing to big audiences for many years and is a very experienced singer works to the show’s great advantage: You can see how he’s working with his body in each ‘singing scene’ on the show, and you can especially see how much his neck is a part of that. That voice isn’t just beautiful; it gets a very forceful visual representation in Simon’s neck.

Simon has a neck that’s working properly (read: Simon has a voice). Wilhelm can’t use his voice (yet). 

Simon sings his love out into the world at the Valentine’s Ball right after that kiss. (We will come back to that Valentine’s Ball kiss because it’s an obvious callback scene to the dream – and no, not just because of the eye-rubbing, mostly because of the compellingly clever camera work during the kiss itself.)

So, Wilhelm dreams of his neck, his silent, seemingly ‘empty’ neck/throat that doesn’t produce any words in the first scene of the second season. Wilhelm will only find his voice in the last scene of the season during his speech.

Simon sings into Wilhelm’s ear (his heart) again and again. Wilhelm’s heart aches and wants to touch Simon’s ear (heart) in the dream scene. And we’ve addressed above that he barely reaches Simon’s ear. Wilhelm must be very afraid to lose Simon’s heart. He wants to reach it so badly. But he is still doing it silently in that shot, coming close to it with his nose and notably silent mouth. If Wilhelm wants to reach Simon’s ear (hear) he has to find his voice, which dream-Simon is pointing out to him by caressing his neck a few seconds later.

And this is something that Wilhelm (at least subconsciously) must have started to work out, seeing as he’s inquisitively tapping his neck, as well: “Hey, voice, where are you? Why aren’t any words coming out of here?”

The thing Wilhelm has to do if he ever wants to reach Simon’s ear (heart) is: He can’t just keep trying to touch Simon’s ear with his nose (sexual attraction); he has to find what’s inside his throat/neck. He has to find his voice and tell his truth to the world.

But for now, it’s only Wilhelm’s subconscious (in the dream) that has worked out what the actual key problem is. Wilhelm will need an entire season to work this all out consciously.

It’s time we get to the right hand side of our dream triptych: shots D/E/D in the image above.

Because these show us what Wilhelm decides should be the answer to that whole neck-tapping question both he and dream-Simon are posing to him.

As I mentioned above, I believe the two neck shots (C-C) are the core of the whole dream scene; they form a unit.

The next three shots also belong together: Two of them (D1 and D2) are still inside the dream (and form the answer that Wilhelm thinks he has found to the neck-tapping question) and one (shot E) happens outside of the dream, showing us that Wilhelm is getting closer to waking up. These shots alternate between dream and reality, crosscutting between the two narrative planes in the following pattern: dream > reality > dream. (And then comes the final shot outside of the dream triptych that shows us how he’s waking up, of course.)

The answer to the neck-tapping question both he himself and dream-Simon have put out there comes in the form of an extreme close-up of a kiss! Wilhelm is again on the right side of the frame and Simon is on the left, so we’re in the dream again.

Now, if you have followed my argument over the last approximately 10.000 paragraphs (sorry, not sorry), then you will know that a kiss is the wrong answer here!

A kiss is lovely. It’s romantic. It’s erotic. And yet it’s not what Simon wants and not what Wilhelm actually needs for his character development: A kiss just closes the mouth.

Wilhelm has to open his mouth, take a deep breath that makes his entire throat and neck vibrate and then engage his vocal cords for once. Wilhelm has to speak. Precisely because the Court has so far managed to successfully silence him. Wilhelm’s voice has to come out of his mouth. That neck has some work to do.

But the only thing Wilhelm comes up with for now is: Kissing.

In other words, he substitutes a real solution (speaking out) for a fake solution (being affectionate with his beloved).

There’s obviously nothing wrong with affection, and Wilhelm can kiss his boyfriend all he wants. Not every kiss is a metaphor for silence, obviously. But in this context (and in a dream, at that) it is. Wilhelm has to speak out first, find his voice first, then he can have all the kissing in the world. But the speaking-out-and-finding-your-voice is a precondition.

In a sense, what we’re seeing here has been Wilhelm’s M.O. for a while now. He keeps coming up with the same (wrong) solution to every problem since the statement of denial:

The Court takes away his voice and makes him lie on national television; Wilhelm goes to Simon and wants to keep seeing him in secret.

Wilhelm is told to keep his mouth shut about the whole August thing, Wilhelm specifically refrains from running to Simon and telling him it was August. No, he actually keeps his mouth shut, and then proceeds to hug Simon in front of the church and tell Simon he loves him.

So far, whenever Wilhelm is presented with the question, “Do I speak out or do I keep schtum?” his reaction is invariably…love and affection, but otherwise utter silence on the core issue.

In other words, Wilhelm reacts to his own core problem (being silenced) by using the wrong solution, a solution that won’t solve the problem: He reacts with romance where clarity of voice is needed.

Wilhelm seems to think romance is a solution to a trust issue in the same way he thinks taking away August’s rowing captaincy and prefect role is actual punishment for a crime. (Wilhelm’s a teenager and trapped in an impossible situation, so we won’t judge him too harshly, of course.)

Wilhelm’s core problem is his missing voice, and yet all he does when his subconscious points that out to him is…he doubles down on the romance and affection angle.

We can see that this is his M.O. throughout season two, as well: Wilhelm trying out a wrong (romantic) approach to what’s essentially an honesty and trust issue.

Kissing instead of engaging his vocal cords. Kissing and thereby closing both their mouths to make sure both voices stay trapped.

The next shot (E) is the central shot of this right hand side of our dream triptych. Wilhelm is on the left side of the frame lying on his back (so, we’re in reality outside of his dream again). The light is still golden and the music is still dreamy, so we know he’s still asleep.

On the simple, superficial plot-level of the text, this shot was probably included to show us that he’s getting closer to waking up. (Rule of thumb, when the frequency of ‘reality’ shots outside of the dream increases, then the character is getting closer to waking up. Something will soon pull him out of his dream world completely.)

On a subtextual level, there’s more to this shot than meets the eye, though. It follows hot on the heels of the kiss shot, and Wilhelm’s head (lying on that blurry pillow) gives a subtle, yet noticeable nod. It looks like a gesture of affirmation: “Yes, that’s how I’m going to do it. That’s how I’m going to approach the problem.”

So, that would mean Wilhelm has found an ostensible (fake) solution to his very real problem (kissing, i.e. a romantic approach to solve a much more global problem, the problem of the missing voice) in the shot prior to this one, and he’s nodding to himself now, telling himself that this is surely what’s needed now: Give Simon more love, double down on the romance, and Simon will surely forgive and forget the breach of trust. (This is literally the solution he test drives for a while once he is back at Hillerska: a flirt over Simon’s pencil case here, a touch to Simon’s shoulder in the library there, you name it…)

So, a nod in that scene is actually not an unlikely scenario: Wilhelm has made up his mind (in his subconscious state). “Yeah, that’s how I’m going to go about the whole problem.”

Then we cut to the third (and last) dream shot (D2):

Wilhelm is clutching Simon’s hand to his left shoulder, holding it to the left side of his clavicle and presumably his chest below…in a way people only ever do when they clutch somebody’s hand to their own heart. You’ve probably guessed it already: The show uses a very common metaphor here; its wide-spread use encompasses a variety of very different shows and movies: The ‘left shoulder’ metaphor that stands for the heart. 

(So, whenever you watch, say, a crime mystery series on TV, and a character is suddenly shot through or stabbed in the left shoulder, just know that this isn’t just a gruesome crime but usually a metaphor, as well: The character in question has fallen in love.)

Note that what Wilhelm is doing in this shot is specifically clutching, not gently holding Simon’s hand. He has their fingers interlaced and is pressing Simon’s hand into his left clavicle/shoulder area.

The last shot of the dream is therefore slightly possessive. Wilhelm thinks he knows what the solution to his problem is now (he’s wrong, of course), and he is clutching his dream-Simon somewhat possessively. He has decided (however subconsciously) what the terms for their reconciliation will be (a doubling down on romance) and that’s how he’s going to win Simon back. (He’s wrong about that, as well, of course. The only way to win Simon back is to gain his trust back by opening up to him about the stuff he’s been keeping from him and opening up to other people about their relationship.)

Thus this last shot of the dream is both lovely and romantic, but also heartbreaking: He’s holding Simon so, so close to his heart, but he remains silent. Teenagers aren’t good at navigating these complex concepts yet. And the show points that out to us in a very clever way.

This is where our dream triptych ends.

The final shot we get is, of course, one of Wilhelm on the left side of the frame again. He’s now truly waking up and the light notably changes.

The silence that remained throughout that entire scene is broken by the god-awful sound of a vacuum cleaner.

Since the core of that dream scene was the question of Wilhelm’s missing voice, of the sound that’s supposed to come out of Wilhelm’s throat, but somehow refuses to materialize (precisely because of who he is: the Prince in his royal palace that’s surrounding him while he sleeps), since the whole dream is built around the idea that Wilhelm’s silence is the core of the whole problem and that that silence is enforced by the Palace, it’s actually very important that the dream is broken specifically by a sound!

And not just by any awful sound, but by a very specific sound.

I mean, it’s not the gardener’s lawn mower getting some action outside, and it’s not Wilhelm’s dad dusting off his ‘Eagles’ records collection either. It’s a vacuum cleaner. It sucks the fun (and the golden light) out of the scene, leaving only heavily leaden, grey colours and an awful sound behind where Wilhelm’s voice should be.

The vacuum cleaner sucks, and the situation Wilhelm is trapped in…well, sucks, too.

Wilhelm blinks his right eye open and wakes up.

Then comes the infamous long shot of him lying in bed with his clothes strewn about in typical peak-teenager fashion. Wilhelm is now shown to be rubbing his left eye.

From the right eye to the left. Hm. Interesting.

Something covering an eye is another absolutely ubiquitous metaphor: It denotes a change in perspective. (Artists will often cover one eye, then the other when they’re painting in order to work out the perspective of all the elements in their composition.) This ‘eye’ metaphor is used in pretty much every other television series or film you will ever watch. Over and over and over again.

And this one here makes it extra-clear that a perspective change is what’s, indeed, going on: It shows us first his right eye in the previous (extreme close-up) shot slowly blinking open, as he wakes up. And then the long shot with Wilhelm rubbing his left eye. The perspective shifts; it changes very suddenly: Well, that’s what happens after a dream. Dreaming and then waking up is arguably a bit like a painter covering one eye and then the other. It’s a sudden jarring shift in perspective.

This shift in perspective is further reinforced by the massive change in shot size: We jump from an extreme close-up of Wilhelm’s blinking right eye (and a whole sequence of extreme close-ups in the dream, as a matter of fact) to a long shot of an entire room with Wilhelm in it…who’s rubbing his left eye.

Note that the show again uses the imagery of left and right to switch between different planes of reality, too: During the dream scene itself, the camera kept jumping the 180-degree line, thereby making Wilhelm shift from right to left and back in the frame, depending on whether we were seeing reality or the dream. Now we get a right-eye-left-eye shift in emphasis between two shots to denote the process of waking up. Nice.

Since we’re already talking about that eye-rubbing, perspective-shifting moment: We have to talk about the scene that is such an obvious callback to the dream scene that it probably needs no further introduction: the Valentine’s Ball kiss. (And no, it’s not just a callback because Wilhelm is rubbing his eye again and because the same soundtrack can be heard playing all over it.) The meaning of this kiss scene, as we will see in a moment, goes quite a bit deeper than just Wilhelm comparing the kiss to his dream and realizing, to his astonishment, that this time it’s all real.

To understand how much deeper, we have to talk about the absolutely brilliant camera work during the Valentine’s Ball kiss for a moment.

Eagle-eyed viewers might have noticed that camera-wise and specifically focus-pull-wise season two considerably ups the ante when compared to season one, as in: its shots are much more complex and layered. If I were to guess, I’d say they engaged a new focus puller, an entirely new team or got some new gear (or a combination of all of these). Whatever it was, it’s noticeable, and the investment really pays off.

One of the examples of how brilliant camera and focus-pull work can be and how much it can support the metaphorical message you’re trying to convey as a showrunner is, of course, that infamous shot of the Valentine’s Ball kiss. I remember that, when I first watched season two (imagine your average sloppily dressed, exhausted slob in their Friday-evening stupor slouching on the couch half-asleep), I suddenly sat up straight as that shot appeared on my screen, going, “Oh…oh! Cool,” because I hadn’t seen it done so well in a while.

What am I talking about? You see, the type of shot we get with that Valentine’s Ball kiss has a specific name. It’s called a rack focus shot:

This is a type of shot in which the focus shifts (‘racks’) from one element in the frame to another within the same continuous shot without cutting. (This can mean pulling focus from one character to another, or from a character to an object, an object to another object, etc.) 

The advantage of a rack focus shot when compared to just cutting and giving the audience several separate shots with readjusted (but static) focus in each one of them is that a rack focus shot is much subtler; it directs our eye to an element in the frame without us really noticing it (unless we’re actively looking for it, which admittedly I tend to do). Cutting and giving the audience separate shots can come across as much more heavy-handed when compared to a well-executed rack focus shot. It also has the massive advantage of not pulling the audience out of a shot that might be emotionally suspenseful. That’s why rack focus shots are an important tool in the cinematic arsenal.

A brilliant example that is often cited in this context is from the 1967 film ‘The Graduate’: There’s an infamous rack focus shot in a scene in which Elaine finds out Benjamin (played by Dustin Hoffman) slept with her mother, Mrs. Robinson. The focus in that scene shifts from Mrs. Robinson’s face to Elaine, but it does so very, very slowly, keeping her face blurry for quite a while, in order to show us how long it takes for Elaine to realize what’s going on and how shocked she is at the discovery. If you find the time, I recommend you check this (brief) scene out because it showcases how a rack focus can be employed as an important technique in visual storytelling. (The whole scene is just about a minute long; make sure you watch it in HD.)

Rack focus shots are actually everywhere, and yet they’re difficult to pull off well. Obviously, one can’t work with a low-budget camera the way you and I would, for example. What’s used for them is the really good gear with a focus ring on the lens that is manually adjusted by someone who’s called a ‘focus puller’ (often done via wireless with a monitor today, though). Focus-pulling is a job that requires an enormous amount of experience, and in practice, both camera operators and directors often prefer to work with focus pullers they already know. (Hence my assumption that they might have switched out the whole gang.) The reason for this is that operating a camera while somebody else is pulling the focus is a bit like dancing – the better you know your partner, the better you have already worked out who’s leading when and how. It’s usually only very experienced people who can work in sync like that. (There are also ways in which a camera person can shift focus on their own, without a focus puller, but that’s arguably even more difficult to pull off because, as a camera operator, they already have their hands full with other stuff.) Let’s not even go into the whole technical side here because I don’t want to bore you with details such as different lens types, focal lengths, apertures, etc. What you should take away from this whole rant is just: It’s difficult to do well, so when it’s done, it’s usually meaningful.

So, you can probably imagine my delight when I discovered this complex and perfectly executed rack focus shot on ‘Young Royals’ during the Valentine’s Ball kiss scene. 

All you have to keep in mind to understand the scene (and this shot) and to be able to read them are the two metaphors we have talked about above: the ‘nose’ metaphor and the ‘neck’ metaphor. Both of them are well-established on the show, and both of them play a major role in the dream scene we discussed above.

So, Valentine’s Ball kiss, here we go:

Right before the kiss even starts, we get a really, really obvious hint that this is a callback to the dream scene: Both the soundtrack and the heavy breathing are almost too heavy-handed for my taste, but these two elements certainly do their job the way they’re supposed to.

There’s a third and much subtler hint, though: The ‘nose’ metaphor is out in full force at that precise moment, i.e. the boys are touching noses and most likely taking in each other’s scent again, so to speak. (Yes, a lot of sexual attraction and, if I may say so, unresolved sexual tension is in the air, is what their nose-rubbing is telling us.)

And please remember that the dream scene started with a very ‘nose’-metaphor-heavy three-shot-unit, as well.

What’s more, Wilhelm is again on the right side of the frame and Simon on the left. (So, we can forgive Wilhelm that he will rub his eye at the end of the scene again as if to ask himself if he’s dreaming.)

We get a couple of cuts, shots back and forth, until they both smile at each other. (The focus pulling is already getting a bit of a workout in these.) And then as they kiss again, pretty soon after that, we get our rack focus shot. (If you’re in doubt as to which one I mean, look out for a close-up that looks maybe a bit too blurry to the untrained eye. It’s mostly shot over Wilhelm’s shoulder.)

An ordinary shot of a couple kissing would give you the kiss itself (i.e. their mouths) in sharp focus. This isn’t an ordinary shot, though (far from it). And frankly, we have other more conventional kiss shots on this show, and there are literally so many on television these days that the whole thing can get a bit dull anyway.

What you can see in this very dynamic shot is that Wilhelm has his hand on Simon’s neck and Simon has his hand on Wilhelm’s. While you might argue that touching someone’s neck is just an intimate and tender gesture during a kiss (and it usually is), in this case we’re getting a clear reference to our ‘neck’ metaphor, of course.

Note that Wilhelm’s neck is covered and Simon’s isn’t, i.e. Simon’s voice (metaphorically speaking) can be heard. Wilhelm is forced to remain silent. What’s more Wilhelm’s neck is specifically covered by some elaborate cravat monstrosity that’s part of his 18^th- century-prince costume. What a lovely visual metaphor: It’s his costume, his traditional role that’s hiding his neck (read: voice). (Props to the costume department for choosing just the right colour for that thing to make sure it contrasts nicely with Simon’s hand, by the way.)

Simon’s neck isn’t covered. And just a few moments later, Simon will metaphorically sing his ‘song’ (‘music’, i.e. love) in front of the entire school, professing his love to the world. Simon has a voice. Simon is using it.

Now, look at the magic the focus puller is working in that shot: The focus that would be on their mouths in a conventional (and arguably slightly boring) shot shifts away from their kiss and specifically over to Simon’s hand on Wilhelm’s neck. Then it’s pulled over to Wilhelm’s hand on Simon’s neck and then back again to Simon’s hand on Wilhelm’s neck.

What’s more the first time the focus is on Simon’s hand is extremely meaningful: Simon is trying to get under Wilhelm’s cravat with his fingertips, i.e. Simon is touching Wilhelm’s naked skin. The neck!

Keep in mind that the soundtrack from the dream scene is playing all over this and remember that dream-Simon was touching Wilhelm’s neck in the dream, as well.

There’s your callback.

Simon is metaphorically searching for Wilhelm’s voice underneath that cravat, underneath that 18^th-century-prince costume. That’s great symbolism.

Then the focus shifts to Wilhelm’s hand on Simon’s neck, and you immediately see the difference: Simon’s neck is uncovered. Wilhelm’s hand can touch Simon’s bare skin, i.e. Simon’s voice is right there. It’s not hiding.

That’s what a really cool rack focus shot can do for you. It can guide your eye to the semantically meaningful elements of your shot.

Their necks and specifically their hands on each other’s necks are meaningful. The kiss isn’t (at least not in this shot).

Because as we’ve seen above, when we discussed the dream scene, a kiss isn’t everything in life. Romance isn’t the solution to every problem. It’s definitely the wrong solution to an issue involving trust, and Wilhelm needs to find his voice first before that relationship can really bloom.

Showcasing that visually is brilliantly achieved by this rack focus shot: The kiss isn’t what’s important here. (Well, it’s important for the overall scene, but not in this shot.) What’s important is the hands-on-neck action we are getting. The racked focus highlights the ‘neck’ metaphor, which tells us that, even though the boys are kissing now and getting-back-together is a distinct possibility, their core problem remains unresolved.

The scene ends with an eye-rubbing Wilhelm again, which gives us the exact same progression we had during the dream scene: ‘nose’ metaphor, then ‘neck’ metaphor, then ‘eye’ metaphor, i.e. a shift in perspective. 

Wilhelm’s perspective suddenly changes again, but in a nearly tectonic shift this time: Simon has kissed him. Not everything is lost. Keep in mind, though, that the ‘neck’ metaphor in that brilliant rack focus shot tells us that kissing and loving isn’t everything in a relationship, being open and finding your own voice is indispensable, and that issue is far from resolved at this point.

The rack focus shot reinforces the idea that this whole Valentine’s Ball kiss is a callback not just to a different intimacy setting (in a dream), but also to the problem being brought up in that dream – a problem that remains unresolved at the end of episode four of season two.

The other callback scene we have mentioned already: Episode five of season one ends with an intimacy scene in Wilhelm’s room that notably starts with an occurrence of the ‘nose’ metaphor again. This time we don’t get the soundtrack that was playing over the dream and the Valentine’s Ball kiss, though. Even more importantly, Wilhelm is now on the left (!) side of the frame and Simon is on the right(!): This is reality. This is definitely real now. There’s no dreaming (metaphorical or otherwise) going on anymore, and nobody is rubbing their eye.

And in this reality, there’s no question anymore either: Simon goes for Wilhelm’s ear (heart) with everything he’s got. So, Wilhelm’s doubts from back in the dream whether Simon actually had any feelings for him should melt like ice in the sun.

The only thing that remains unresolved is the problem of the missing voice, but the flash cards on the wall in that scene already foreshadow where and under what circumstances Wilhelm will finally find it.

~fin~

Dear reader, in case you’re wondering…technically, this wasn’t a post on the sexual subtext on this show at all. We were basically just analyzing the structure and the literary devices in a (dreamed-up) intimacy scene to find out something about the story. The analysis of the sexual subtext (which is a big part of the character-centred posts I’m currently working on) will actually reverse the direction, i.e. we will look at literary devices throughout the story to find out something about what’s going on in the bedroom department. These posts won’t be as visual either and concentrate more on a structural text analysis.

Anyway…I had planned to start posting the character-centred series next weekend, but I won’t make it. They’re all really long and take a lot of time, effort, blood, sweat and tears to write, so I will have to push them back by a week, which is why you’ll most likely get yet another metaphor next week. On the plus side: In two weeks time, you’ll get two (maybe even three) character-centred articles at once on the same weekend.

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