In our lectures on Experimental and Abstract Animation, we explored two main approaches — Formative Abstraction and Conceptual Abstraction. These theories encouraged us to consider how artists use form, rhythm, and symbolism to communicate ideas beyond conventional narrative.
In class we learned about two kinds of experimental animation — formative and conceptual abstraction. I was especially interested in how some films use light, time, and symbolism to explore emotions and ideas without using dialogue. I chose “We Have Decided Not to Die” as my subject of analysis.
Categorisation
Daniel Askill’s We Have Decided Not to Die (2004) fits primarily within the Conceptual Abstraction mode of experimental cinema.
The short film is structured around three ritualised sequences, titled Ritual 1 – BIRTH, Ritual 2 – Between, and Ritual 3 – REBIRTH
There is no dialogue or linear narrative; instead, the work presents a series of symbolic actions performed by anonymous figures who seem to transcend death. The mood is meditative, surreal and spiritual, supported by slow motion, ethereal sound design and choreographed bodily movement.
Form and Function
Askill’s main goal is to visualise transformation — the moment when human limitation is transcended. Formally, the film rejects traditional storytelling and uses ritual as its narrative logic. Each part focuses on a physical challenge: floating in the air, breaking through glass, or falling into water. These actions symbolise the psychological journey from restriction to freedom.
The film works as a visual meditation on life and death rather than a story about characters. The slow-motion technique expands time and encourages the audience to experience every movement as a spiritual moment. By removing dialogue and traditional editing, Askill forces viewers to find meaning through form — light, rhythm and gesture become the language.
Process
Askill’s main goal is to visualise transformation — the moment when human limitation is transcended. Formally, the film rejects traditional storytelling and uses ritual as its narrative logic. Each part focuses on a physical challenge: floating in the air, breaking through glass, or falling into water. These actions symbolise the psychological journey from restriction to freedom.
The film works as a visual meditation on life and death rather than a story about characters. The slow-motion technique expands time and encourages the audience to experience every movement as a spiritual moment. By removing dialogue and traditional editing, Askill forces viewers to find meaning through form — light, rhythm and gesture become the language.
In this film, the process itself is the message. The technology is not only a tool but also part of the story. By controlling time and movement, the film shows that cinema can make invisible things—like time, breath, and feeling—visible.
Formal Elements
Space & Composition
The camera isolates each performer in a void-like environment—underground car parks, corridors, water tanks—suggesting liminal spaces “between life and death.” These minimal settings remove social context and turn the body into an abstract form.
Light & Colour
Lighting contrasts between cool, metallic blues and warm highlights, giving a sensation of purification and detachment. Backlighting through dust, glass, and water emphasises translucency and transformation—light acts as a metaphor for the soul escaping matter.
Movement & Rhythm
The choreography is controlled yet fluid; in slow motion, small gestures become monumental. Rhythm is created through internal motion rather than editing cuts.
Timing & Pacing
Each ritual follows a crescendo: stillness → motion → release.
The pacing mimics breathing cycles or heartbeats, reinforcing the life–death theme.
Transition & Audio Relations
Transitions are non-linear; scenes fade through black or dissolve via light.
Sound bridges unify the three segments, transforming them into one continuous meditation.
Music and image are rhythmically synchronized but never illustrative—sound acts as an emotional undercurrent rather than accompaniment.
The three stories feel like three dreams — scenes from a long and endless dream. They are bright but painful, freeing but full of struggle, powerless to resist, making it hard to breathe, until finally I wake up trembling. It was only a dream, and I decide not to die.
The film’s airy music, visual experiment, Zen-like theme, fast yet slow motion, and poetic, philosophical feeling all express one idea — one thought can be heaven, another can be hell. I have died once, so now I decide not to die again.