Emma crosses a line in the second episode of The Promised Neverland‘s second season. It’s something that, thinking back on the trajectory of the series, seems inevitable, but is particularly striking due to the series’ consistent visual direction.
As an aside, these posts on The Promised Neverland are probably going to be more cinematography-based liner notes, and shorter than, say, Wonder Egg Priority in-depth posts.
Continuing from where the second season began, there’s a defining focus on presenting the group as a group, even in closed spaces like the underground maze of Sonju and Mujika. Like the premiere, when Emma and Ray are introducing ideas or addressing the group as the default leaders, there’s also visual shifts to individuals as they absorb the information, offer their own ideas, or affirm what Ray or Emma have said. The perceived threat of Sonju and Mujika is a quick visual hit of Ray and Emma surrounded before the entire group of children is shown easily getting along with them, framed by the walls of the cave and warm firelight.
Episode director Ayako Kurata (who also directed the first season’s tenth episode) additionally turns this on its head a bit when Gilda turns and addresses Emma for neglecting her health and not consulting them. The entire group chimes in as well, especially when Ray’s tendency to “run off and die” is addressed. This reiterates group closeness and a newfound lack of isolation — an isolation born of having to obfuscate facts or flat-out lie if necessary while at Grace Field House prior to their escape — for both Emma and Ray.
The Promised Neverland also commits to making its information dumps somewhat visually interesting, with storyboarding giving us simple clues about what is going on. Above, Emma and Ray approach Sonju to ask him questions, crossing the barrier of a root in the foreground to join him as he answers them.
All of this is buildup to what happens in the final moments of the episode: Emma taking the life of a bird so she and the group can eat. Positioned against the backdrop of the children’s existence as food for the demons, there’s already an easy ethical comparison to make that could have come off as rote or campy. Instead, based on this buildup and the storyboarding, it ends up being a poignant turning point for Emma’s character.
Consider the visual entry into Emma’s first hunt: the vidar flowers — sans blood from the gupna ritual — positioned in the foreground with butterflies or moths. In a following shot, Emma is startled by a pine marten creature with a dead moth in its mouth. As Sonju praises her for her vigilance, the moth’s wings fall from the pine marten’s mouth into the river. This setup tells us what is about to happen with Emma while also reiterating, alongside Sonju’s guidance, that Emma and the rest of the group are still being pursued by monsters who want to eat them.
Vidar flowers take center stage several times throughout this entire sequence, framing Emma’s actions. They appear as a reminder of what Emma is to the demons, but also of the gupna ritual of gratitude that she later performs after killing the bird. It’s the same ritual she saw performed on her sister, Conny, that kicked off her entire escape from Grace Field House. Perhaps most importantly, when Emma asks Sonju to teach her how to hunt, she specifically says “How to kill a living thing,” already reiterating that she is somewhat aware of the gravity of what she’s about to do in relation to what she’s seen done to her sibling (and presumed done to her close friend, Norman). We never see the moment Emma’s arrow wounds the bird, but instead a droplet of water falling is shown, followed by full, blossoming vidar flowers floating in the river.
This gravity remains throughout the entire process, even as Emma hesitates before shooting and immediately becomes ill after piercing the bird with the flower.
As she is reminded of what happened to Conny, Emma begins another journey down a familiar path of knowing something she cannot share with her siblings. The major difference this time is that it’s an experience she cannot fully impart to others (like the reveal that they’re fodder for demons). In an episode that spent most of its time visually reiterating that they’re a group now, the separation of Emma in the final moments resonates.