My intention with this piece was to complete an animation sequence for the immersive installation of the Pixelated Politicians series within the Revolution arcade console. Earlier works in this strand – the portraits of Keir Starmer, the International Editions, and the console design – established the visual language of 8-bit parody, static stills, and the absurdity of power figures rendered in the pixelated idiom of 1980s gaming. This animation takes the next step: bringing those stills to life in motion so that they can be looped as reels inside the consoles.

The parody is heightened by the performative nature of the arcade set-up. Just as in the earlier console design, the controls remain disconnected from the screen. The player is invited to “insert coin” or “press start,” but nothing they do changes the outcome. The politician continues to rise, gesticulate, and descend on an endless cycle, underscored by deliberately irritating sound design. Agency is promised but never delivered. This loop – a game that cannot be played – becomes a metaphor for the spectacle of politics itself, where performance substitutes for power and citizens are cast as players with no influence over the script.

In After Effects, I rigged the composition so that the podium could rise and fall, the flames could switch between idle and thrust, and the head and arms could nod and swing in time with the sequence. Paired with an 80s-inspired score, the result deliberately mimics the rhythm and irritation of classic arcade machines: compelling for a moment, then repetitive to the point of frustration – until you either insert a coin or walk away.

In the context of the wider series, this animation extends the static satire into an immersive environment. It reinforces the central theme across the Pixelated Politicians: politics is a closed loop of spectacle and frustration, in which viewers are offered the theatre of participation but denied any real agency.