Camera, the lesson title, and your name — once. The title holds for the first 6–8 seconds while you state the promise, the name plate rides with it, and then both leave. Frame yourself off-centre so the title has a side of its own; a title over your face is a title nobody reads. This is the only scene where type is allowed to be large.

Nothing on screen but you. For the why, the caveat, the “here is where people get this wrong” — the parts of a lesson that are an argument rather than a demonstration. Cutting to a bare camera is a punctuation mark: it tells the viewer to stop scanning the screen and listen. Which is exactly why it stops working if you leave it up for four minutes.

The sentence you want them to remember, on screen while you say it. One card, one idea, a heading and at most one line of mono support — if it needs bullets it needs a slide (scene 10). The card appears as you start the sentence and leaves as you finish it. Never stack two; a second card means the first one was not the point.

When you are pointing at something and the pointing matters. The slide keeps its own 16:9 shape at a smaller size rather than being cropped to fit — a diagram squeezed out of ratio is a diagram nobody trusts. Camera sits beside it, not over it. Cut to the slide alone (scene 10) the moment you stop gesturing at it.