2018 Preview

2018 Preview
“Brexit rumbles on like a spherical turd being ever-so-slowly pushed up a precipitous gradient by an arthritic dung beetle. Trump continues to dumbfound in ever-more spectacular ways.”
The end of each year is, traditionally, a time to take stock, reflect on the trials, tribulations and triumphs of the year past and move on to tackle new and bigger challenges. When we carried out our 2016 round-up 12 months ago there was much talk of Britain’s withdrawal from the EU and of Trump’s impending presidency and the e ects those two things would have on the advertising industry and beyond. The gender imbalance in advertising and the working world at large, the highs and lows of technology’s rampant advance and the metamorphic state of the industry’s production landscape were, rightly, front of mind for many within the global ad community across 2016. And so, as we now wave goodbye to 2017, it seems there’s a whi of –without wishing to make light of any of those issues – same shit, di erent year.
Brexit rumbles on like a spherical turd being ever-soslowly pushed up a precipitous gradient by an arthritic dung beetle. Trump continues to dumbfound in ever-more spectacular ways. And the challenges faced by the advertising industry across these last 12 months are scarily similar to those stated the year before. But that doesn’t make them tedious to discuss, it makes them even more important. They are significant questions which require significant thought and response.
So, across this issue, we have insight from a number of people considering a variety of those issues; from Laura Visco of 72andSunny turning the gender
question on its head and asking whether it’s our toxic notion of masculinity that we should be addressing [page 24], to Amy Kean of Beamly discussing the decline of weepy ads for women and the rise of meaningful messages [page 33]. We also examine [from page 28 onwards] how the production scene continues to evolve by talking to Simon Cooper of Academy Films and Richard Glasson of Hogarth, while Al Young of St Luke’s considers the past year from an agency perspective. Meanwhile, The Mill’s Adam Grint addresses all things tech and ponders on another year where VR didn’t quite break through, and We Are Social’s Harvey Cossell puts social media under the microscope.
All this nestles among a host of other content, not least that of our two cover stars this issue; R/GA’s Nick Law who tells it like he sees it [page 62] and director Jabu Nadia Newman, featured in our South Africa special [page 47]. Plus, creative leaders pick their favourite campaigns of the year [page 22] and we round up 2017’s Christmas crackers [page 10].
It’s impossible to know whether, this time next year, the current crop of industry challenges will have moved closer to a resolution, but we can rest assured of two things; that the best brains in the business are making it their business to move the dial, and that shots will be there to talk to them about it. Here’s to a transformative 2018.
Danny Edwards Editor
1
2
3
South
shot for shots by Sean Izzard. Read his thoughts on page 62.
Cover number two is a selfie by
shots 173 contributors
Words: Bruno Bertelli, Simon Cook, Simon Cooper, Harvey Cossell, Tim Cumming, Matt Factor, Richard Glasson, Adam Grint, Amy Kean, David Knight, David Kolbusz, Tom Linay, Isabella Parish, Laura Visco, Al Young
Illustration & photography: Andy Bridge, Jason Butcher, Wesley Byrne, Nick Clark, Pierre DeVilliers, Rick Dodds, Sean Izzard, Chris Madden, Terence Masamuna, Jabu Nadia Newman, Polly Penrose, Ricardo Simal, Anna Wray
shots 174 / April 2018
The next issue of shots is our annual Fashion special, in which we’ll be focussing our gaze on a selection of advertising’s sartorial stars.
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Hops that hear, roads that see and Vaughan & Anthea’s comeback tour
Argos was first out of the gates but who won the UK’s 2017 Christmas stakes? 18 OUT OF HOURS
To Limehouse – where WCRS’ Billy Faithful is mixing modular melodies
21 2017 REVIEW
Caroline Pay on the joy of gin and Half a Sixpence
Chaka Sobhani floats on sock-sneakered feet and is pleased about parking apps
How Sherbet London helped subvert The Snowman for Irn-Bru
Key to symbols shots icons indicate whether the work written about in the magazine is either on shots.net, the shots DVD or both.
David Kolbusz fashions a fantasy spot that cocks a snook at influencers
Industry pros’ make their picks from a year of good and badvertising
24 FOCUS ON 2017
A closer look at three hot topics – how to be a chap, Publicis saying no-Cannesdo and the value of craft
28 REVIEW/PREVIEW
The big issues of the year plus, new year resolutions, like “don’t make shit”
33 PREVIEW 2018
What the future might bring – from ‘normal’ women to riding the VR bandwagon
40 PHOTOGRAPHY
How Tsoku Maela’s sublime surrealist images helped to heal a broken mind
47 OVERVIEW
Can advertising flourish in a country facing flux overload?
52 DIRECTOR PROFILE
The personal is political for outspoken director Jabu Nadia Newman
54 DIRECTOR PROFILE
Director Kyle Lewis, whose love of film started with a Scream
56 BRAND PROFILE
An ocean-fresh perspective from surf brand Mami Wata’s in-house creative
58 GOING NATIVE
Mick Blore, CCO for McCann Africa, brings us Johannesburg – city of fast work and fine sausages
Plucky puppets and comedy violence 47
14 CREATIVE PROFILE
ECD Anna Carpen on the challenges that have kept her on her toes at 18 Feet & Rising
62 THE WAY I SEE IT
R/GA’s Nick Law reckons a visit to Cannes is like being a famous plumber at a plumbing festival
68 SHOTS AWARDS
Happy, shiny people –the night in pictures
71 NEW DIRECTORS
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Many thanks to those companies that submitted material for consideration on shots 173. If your work didn’t make it this time, please do not be discouraged from sending work in again. If you feel that your company has produced anything that would complement the Creative Showcase please let us know.
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DVD programme credits
Post production Envy, London
Graphics
Why Not/Clear, London
Editor
Danny Edwards dan@shots.net (44 20) 8102 0833 @shotsmag_dan
Deputy Editor Selena Schleh selena@shots.net (44 20) 8102 0887 @selenaschleh
Art Director Sarah Watson art@shots.net
News Reporter
Olivia Atkins olivia@shots.net (44 20) 8102 0922 @olivia__atkins
Contributing Editor Carol Cooper
Sub Editors
Carol Cooper Kirsten Foster
Head of Marketing Samantha Nasser samantha.nasser@mbi.london (44 20) 8102 0896
Marketing Manager Danielle Cosh danielle.cosh@mbi.london (44 20) 8102 0875
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Publishing Director
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Chief Executive Officer Conor Dignam conor.dignam@mbi.london
Carlsberg
The Red Hops Experiment
Keen horticulturist Prince Charles was laughed at for talking to plants – but the folks at Carlsberg certainly think there is plant-boosting power in sound and have built their latest campaign around it.
To mark the 25-year anniversary of the beer brand’s partnership with Liverpool FC – the longest in Premier League history – Carlsberg wanted to create a limitededition beer for fans. But how do you bottle the essence of a quarter-century of football matches? Based on research showing that plants are affected not just by light, but also sound, vibrations and other energies, Carlsberg and its agency CP+B Copenhagen came up with The Red Hops Experiment, a way of using “the light and sound of Liverpool FC games” to flavour the special brew. Here’s the science bit: the hops were grown from seed in a custom greenhouse, surrounded by large-scale LCD screens and huge speakers that played footage of past matches, immersing the plants in the sound of screaming fans 24 hours a day.
That might seem like aural torture, but the hops flourished and flowered and were used in a special edition beer. Avid Liverpool fans could sample the brew in selected pubs, at the match or by entering an online competition. SS
WEB FILM
Libresse/Bodyform
#Bloodnormal
Libresse (Bodyform in the UK) and AMV BBDO are continuing their crusade against period taboos with #Bloodnormal. Looking more like a NOWNESS film than an ad for feminine hygiene products, it features women dealing with periods in real-life scenarios, intercut with Instagram-worthy frames of a girl on a sanitary pad-shaped lilo and blood trickling down a thigh. The clichéd clinical blue liquid that normally represents period blood is replaced with a more realistic red.
This issue’s round up of top campaigns reveals the sensational news that… menstrual blood is red, not blue; plants have ears (well… they can hear); someone’s invented roads that see when you’re crossing them and Vaughan & Anthea are back in the room
1/2/3/4 Carlsberg, Red Hops Experiment
5/6/7 Libresse/Bodyform, #Bloodnormal 8 Direct Line, The Smart Crossing
INNOVATION
Direct Line
The Smart Crossing
Phone zombies are the target of insurance provider Direct Line and Saatchi & Saatchi London’s revolutionary prototype “smart” pedestrian crossing, which could reduce the 7,000 annual road traffic accidents that occur at crossings due to visibility issues.
brand, which discovered more than one third of respondents thought of periods as more taboo than mental health problems or the gender pay gap. “Periods are still clearly taboo. The more women I chatted to of every age, the more I saw the taboo from a varied demographic. ‘Can’t wait for the day when women no longer pass tampons to a friend like they are a class-A drug’ – was a quote which offered particular inspiration,” says director Daniel Wolfe. “We wanted to create a film which both women and men will take something from, helping instil the idea of a new normal.” SS
Developed with urban design firm Umbrellium, the tech can distinguish automatically between vehicles, pedestrians and cyclists, and features an LED road surface that can adapt its markings and signals dynamically, in real time, to keep its users safe.
“Insurance can be a very ‘lean back’ category,” says Sam Wise, Saatchi’s head of planning. “It’s a struggle to make people feel it’s relevant to them. The Smart Crossing is a chance to make people think about how a company that understands risk can play a part in their lives.” SS
TV & CINEMA
House of Fraser
Bring Merry Back
British retailer House of Fraser has served up a big helping of festive cheer with its nostalgia-infused Christmas spot. Created by 18 Feet & Rising, the 60-second film features two sisters remembering their younger selves at Christmas. Set to The Staple Singers’ Who Took The Merry Out Of Christmas? the advert marks the return of iconic directing duo Vaughan & Anthea, who have reunited after more than 20 years apart. Below, the pair, signed to Moxie Pictures, discuss why they have reformed the band.
What was the last project you directed as a team?
Anthea: It was Stella Artois Nouvelles Chausssures, in 1996. It was our homage to Powell & Pressburger’s Red Shoes and the Technicolor process. We had a hugely talented cast of French cinema actors and it was shot in and around the Gorges du Verdon.
Vaughan: The crew took over a whole village. It was a brilliant shoot… apart from when our cinematographer got into an ill-advised rugby tackle, fell in the mud with the pigs and broke three ribs.
As a team you had been hugely successful, what caused the partnership to break up?
Anthea: Handing Vaughan the mic on this one.
Vaughan: We began our career in music videos. By 1996 we had been working solidly for 11 years and we’d had an amazing time. It just came to a point where Anthea felt she wanted to be in control of her own destiny and although I thought she was mad and I didn’t want to break, we had an almost brother and sister relationship and always had one another’s backs so, reluctantly, I had to respect her decision. In a way, though,
her decision pushed me to find my own path and that’s been a great ride too.
Did sharing your lives professionally and personally make it hard to give each other breathing space?
Anthea: Yes, it was intense, but creating great work was more important. We learned early on that we needed to respect each other’s point of view. We are very different people, inspired by very different things, but that is what makes it work – a kind of harmonious polarity.
Vaughan: In fact, our working partnership survived our personal relationship for another three years and, arguably, we created our best work during those years.
After 20 years apart, what prompted the reunion?
Vaughan: My mum brought us back together. Sadly, she lost her battle with cancer earlier this year and Anthea came to her funeral. It was like meeting up with a sister who’d been living on a different continent. I felt that the advertising
industry needed a big shake up and I felt that we had the heritage to bring a completely new energy, so I asked Anthea to reform the band.
Anthea: It was a huge surprise when Vaughan suggested it, but it felt right and I think there is a fresh appetite out there for great, crafted storytelling and performance.
Did the elements that made your partnership so successful click back into place?
Anthea: Vaughan has always been an infectiously optimistic guy. It’s a huge part of his creative DNA. And he had no doubts at all, which made it easier for me.
Very quickly after re-forming we found ourselves walking in to 18 Feet & Rising and I was thinking, wow, we have had our own careers for 20 years, how is this going to work? The team were fresh and youthful and so when Vaughan strode straight in and opened with, “So what was the first track you ever bought?” I just thought… Aaand, we’re back in the room.
“The enormous benefit of our comeback tour is that we are fearless and so creative disagreement gets thrashed out at the very beginning.”
How have you dealt with any elements that caused friction in the past?
Vaughan: Of course, we always had creative disagreements. Anthea has an inherently creative mind which is full of detail and she has been watching movies since she was four years old, so she can sometimes get lost in her own cosmos. I pretty much grew up in the music business, where so much was about fluidity and gut-feeling, so my approach is very instinctive and I sometimes need to focus my energy. Anthea: The enormous benefit of our comeback tour is that we are fearless and so creative disagreement gets thrashed out at the very beginning.
Will you continue to work as individual directors?
Anthea: Dude! We just got back together! It’s a truly bitchin’ duet. Totally immersive. Not in the Scientology sense though. More Bowie and Jagger. Vaughan: Oh my God. Which one am I? DE
Parents! Do you know who’s putting presents under your tree?
TV, CINEMA & ONLINE Christmas ads
Christmas. I like it. Love it, in fact. Always have. The trees, the lights, the gaudy decorations, the Christmas Day feelings of love and goodwill towards your extended family which, much like the December weather, gradually, as time ever-so-slowly ticks by, turn cooler and cooler until the day becomes an icy death trap that, with one misplaced Pictionary drawing or unrestrained yell of “Is it Natural Born Killers?” during a tense final round of charades, could send you spiralling towards a chasm of despair from which you won’t emerge until New Year’s Day. And the adverts. Love the adverts (I’m contractually obliged to). A classic, time-honoured indicator of the approach of Yuletide. Isn’t it? Actually, I’m not sure if it is. I don’t remember my mum declaring Christmas to have started after she’d seen Damart’s latest festive offering centred around 200-denier tights. Or, BHS’s 60-second extravaganza set in the lightbulb section of the local Southend store. But that doesn’t matter, because these days
Christmas starts when the first commercial featuring a semblance of festive cheer hits the airwaves, which this year was on 3 November, when Argos stated that Christmas was Ready for Take Off
And so, here we find ourselves again, raking over the good, the bad and the ugly of this year’s UK Christmas commercials, in what has now become tradition. Since John Lewis reinvented Christmas back in 2011 with The Long Wait, forcing competitors in the UK to up their game, each year has seen a deluge of commercials from early to mid-November, in which big brands vie for the public’s love (and money, natch). If you cast your mind back to 2016, you’ll remember it was TK Maxx we decided had won the very un-Christmassy-sounding Battle of Christmas with their brilliantly random spot The Sing-Song, which featured a family’s rendition of that old Christmas classic, Misirlou, aka the theme from Pulp Fiction. So, what about 2017?
Let’s get the big hitters out of the way first, and none are as big as John Lewis. Last year’s Buster the Boxer was seen as a return to form after the previous year’s somewhat lacklustre and slightly depressing Man on the Moon, and this year’s Moz the Monster was definitely more Buster than Moon. adam&eveDDB’s classic ingredients of cute kid, a classic, reworked track (this year it was Elbow with the Beatles’ Golden Slumbers) and bemused parents who seem to let any sod put a present under the tree, were all in attendance. And it works. At least, I think it works. Ok, it’s a bit confusing. Why does Moz essentially commit suicide by buying the lamp? In fact, how the hell did he buy the lamp? But let’s not let a great, fantastical story, which is essentially positive and uplifting, be spoiled by thinking it needs to be true. Especially not at Christmas.
Two years ago, Sainsbury’s wowed us all with Mog’s Christmas from AMV BBDO. Last year that agency’s final Sainsbury’s Christmas spot was an animated epic
featuring the voice of James Corden. This year Wieden+Kennedy London took up the Sainsbury’s account and, well, delivered the voice of Britain singing along to a strange, seemingly cobbled-together song. I watched it with my four-year-old son who asked if this was a famous Christmas tune.
“No son, it’s not.” “Can we watch it again, dad?” “No, son, we can’t.”
Tesco and BBH at least had the decency to include an actual Christmas song in their campaign (Shakin’ Stevens’ Merry Christmas Everyone) though, naturally, it was a reworked version that took much of the cheer out of it. Still, the brand’s launch spot, Turkey, Every Which Way, which focussed on a variety of families preparing the Christmas turkey, was at least sweet and funny.
It may not be a Christmas classic, but Asda’s spot The Imaginarium, through Saatchi & Saatchi London, features Fleetwood Mac’s Don’t Stop, and that’s as good a start as any. The Willy Wonkainspired film sees a girl and her grandfather
“The trees, the lights, the gaudy decorations, the Christmas Day feelings of love and goodwill towards your extended family which, much like the December weather, gradually, as time ever-soslowly ticks by, turn cooler and cooler until the day becomes an icy death trap…”
visiting a magical Asda factory where tiny builders, old-fashioned strongmen, women with lasers and, er, goats create the supermarket’s festive fare. It seems to owe something of a stylistic debt to Wes Anderson, but is a decent addition to the Asda Christmas canon.
So, out of Asda, jump into our Audi Q7, up the hill, left at the lights and into the nice part of town, where the Waitrose is. Another adam&eveDDB offering and it’s a good one. Again. A remote pub with the inhabitants snowed in and left to fend for themselves, preparing Christmas dinner from whatever is available in the larder, which mainly seems to be, naturally, Waitrose Essential products and not, like most other pubs, out-of-date pork scratchings and old Big D nuts attached to a piece of cardboard with a picture of a semi-naked woman printed on it. And it’s shot in black and white. Very Waitrose. Boots, House of Fraser and Sky Cinema, via Ogilvy, 18 Feet & Rising and WCRS respectively, each delivered spots
about familial rememberings and all three were strong entrants in this year’s Christmas clash. Boots’ and House of Fraser’s offerings both centred on the relationship between two sisters and, while House of Fraser took a slightly more comedic approach compared to Boots’ more emotive tactic, they both made an impression in the shots office. As did the Sky Cinema spot, which took The Sound of Music as its central link between the different generations of one family.
What did Santa say to the bear?
Other Christmas hits here at shots Towers include the McDonald’s spot, Carrot Stick from Leo Burnett, Very’s Get More Out of Giving through St Luke’s, Argos’ Ready for Take Off and the very good Debenhams campaign, You Shall Find Your Fairytale Christmas, from JWT, which features a clever and charming reworking of the Cinderella story, narrated by Ewan McGregor. Ones we weren’t so hot on? TK Maxx’s effort, after triumphing last year,
1 Aldi, #KevinAndKatie
2/3/4 M&S, Paddington and the Christmas Visitor
5 Tesco, Turkey, Every Which Way
6 Argos, Ready for Take Off 7/9 Waitrose, Snowed In
8 Very, Get More Out Of Giving
10 John Lewis, Moz the Monster
11 House of Fraser, Bring Merry Back
12 Debenhams, You Shall Find Your Fairytale Christmas
13 Asda, The Imaginarium
seemed to have the randomness without the charm, despite Bill Nighy’s voiceover. Curry’s PC World and AMV BBDO won plaudits galore a couple of years ago with its brilliantly funny Jeff Goldblum-starring campaign, but this year they haven’t quite located the funny bone in the same way. And the Toys R Us spot through The Corner seemed like a slightly outdated throwback to advertising of old, though that jingle does stay with you. Bloody thing. And so, to our 2017 winner. A few years back a bear and a hare successfully tugged on our collective heartstrings. In 2017 the same has happened with a bear and a thief mistaken for Santa. Marks & Spencer’s Paddington and the Christmas Visitor is a brilliantly conceived partnership by Grey, tapping into the universal love for the little bear from deepest, darkest Peru, as well as the marketing hype around that bear’s new film. Funny, festive and feel-good, it’s a perfect Christmas champion. And no, that last line sounds nothing like “Fuck you, little bear.” Heathens. DE
What is the most creative advertising idea you’ve seen in the last few months?
KFC Lunchtime is Coming. This one tickled me. Is it because it’s bloody funny and bloody well done? Is it because I binged-watched Game of Thrones for the month of October? Is it because I’m happy my pals at BBH got a great one out before [the] KFC [account] went to Mother? Or is it because I just simply bloody love chicken with rice? Probably all of the above, tbh. While we’re all working on creating the next generation of original content that takes the world by storm, at least we can appreciate the best out there and have some fun with it!
What’s your favourite website?
I can honestly say it’s Net-a-Porter. I very rarely go shopping anymore. I shop hard, late at night, spoiling myself depending on how difficult the day has been or how many wines I’ve had…!
What website do you use most regularly?
Also, Net-a-Porter – much to the disappointment of my bank balance.
What fictitious character do you most relate to?
Sandy in Grease – before and after.
In an ideal world, you’d find Caroline Pay, co-CCO at Grey London, swaggering about an NY/LA/London mash-up, clutching a copy of The Guardian’s family section while sprinkling rainbow glitter from a Pringles tube, sipping gin and waiting for showtime
What product could you not live without?
Gin! More specifically Silent Pool gin. Looks beautiful. Tastes beautiful. Launched by a beautiful friend of mine.
What product hasn’t been invented yet that would make your life/job better?
SwaggerDust™! I launched it at an event recently (it’s basically just a Pringles tube full of rainbow glitter), designed to remind people why they do this wonderful job we do. It brings back bravery, risk, the power of gut instinct. I want agencies and clients to trust their judgement and make that call. Especially if it scares the shit out of them. It’s a physical representation of a mindset that I think is crucial to creativity.
Mac or PC?
Mac. Mac. Mac. Mac. Mac. Mac. Mac.
What’s the best film you’ve seen over the last year?
Moonlight. Or Baby Driver. Or Manchester by the Sea. All three of these films moved me so much, in very different ways, I did not want to move from my cinema seat after the credits had rolled. I just wanted to sit in that moment and keep hold of that feeling right there, for as long as humanly possible.
What show/exhibition has most inspired you recently?
I won’t pretend here, I’m a show kinda gal. I know it’s not cool or high-brow, but still, Half a Sixpence on stage blew my mind. The energy, joy, choreography, sets and costumes and everything! Every single aspect of the show was top class. Sue me.
If you could live in one city, where would it be?
New York vibe with LA weather in London, please.
What’s your favourite magazine?
The family section of The Guardian Guaranteed tears every Saturday morning.
“I won’t pretend here, I’m a show kinda gal. I know it’s not cool or high-brow, but still, Half a Sixpence on stage blew my mind. The energy, joy, choreography, sets and costumes and everything! Sue me.”
What track/artist would you listen to for inspiration?
It’s always been and will forever be Depeche Mode Just Can’t Get Enough But right now, Khalid is also getting me through my days.
Who’s your favourite photographer?
Massimo Vitali. Kim Gehrig and I were lucky enough to shoot with Massimo –balancing badly on top of his scaffolding, 200 feet out to sea from a beach in Mallorca. We then swam back to shore with him. Happy days.
Who’s your favourite designer? I’ll have to point you in the direction of theymadethislondon.com. Take your pick from there, really. Founded by Aine Donovan, an ex BBH-er, the site curates some of the most talented graphic artists of our generation. We worked with a lot of them on our She Lights Up The Night project for Refuge, when we auctioned pieces of work through Christie’s to raise tens of thousands of pounds for the charity.
If you could have been in any band, what band would you choose?
Abba. Who wouldn’t?
S
What inspires Pay:
1 Depeche Mode’s Just Can’t Get Enough
2 Olivia Newton-John as Sandy in the 1978 film Grease
3 SwaggerDust TM – aka rainbow glitter out of a Pringles tube
4 Pop group ABBA
5 KFC, Lunchtime is Coming
6 The film Baby Driver
7 Silent Pool gin
8 The Saturday Guardian’s family section
9 The musical Half a Sixpence
10 The film Moonlight
Anna Carpen is in a good place right now – not something she could have always said over the past year or so. Sitting in a London coffee shop, the executive creative director of 18 Feet & Rising is celebrating a new account win – a highly significant one. The agency have just announced its appointment as main agency for Popchips, combining the Californian snack brand’s US and UK strategy and creative for the first time. It is a big moment for an agency that’s yet to open an office in the States. “It’s really exciting,” Carpen confirms. “We’re not in the US yet – but we will be!”
There is yet another reason to be excited. In a few days’ time Carpen will be shooting the new Christmas ad for House of Fraser, two years after making Your Christmas, Your Rules, the spot credited with reviving the fortunes of the struggling British high street institution. It will be Carpen returning to the scene of her biggest success so far.
So it feels like a good moment to look back over the 18 months since Carpen became, aged just 30, the youngest ECD in London’s adland. She was promoted to the role in early 2016 by 18 Feet CEO Jonathan Trimble just six years after joining the then start-up as a junior creative. Even though it was at a relatively small independent shop, Carpen’s appointment inevitably raised eyebrows in an industry where the top creative role has been the preserve of white males with decades of experience. Carpen – young, female and mixed race – is typically forthright about what has happened since she took the position. “It’s been pretty much a year and a half of hell,” she declares. “It’s just been awful – but also brilliant. It’s either been amazing highs or amazing lows, and nothing in-between. And basically I had no choice.”
Before succeeding Matt Keon, one of 18 Feet’s three co-founders, Carpen had been a creative director for a couple of years, running accounts like House of Fraser, as well as running pitches and hosting events. “I thought I had leadership skills, [but] I didn’t really have management skills,” she admits. Her appointment upset some within the agency, and there were departures. (“I had to fire a couple of people. It was quite difficult,” she says.) A couple of accounts – Nando’s and National Trust – have also departed.
Since then, new creatives have joined, including Will Thacker as senior creative director. And new accounts have arrived. This year the agency has done notable work for, among others, credit-check website Clearscore, Kopparberg, Dogs Trust and an award-winning campaign for the GambleAware charity, Voices, created by Thacker and agency creative Louis Joplin, and directed by Tom Tagholm.
After the initial turmoil, it seems Carpen is bedding down well into her role. “When I first started [as ECD] it was a case of: ‘I don’t know how to do this.’ But you work it out. I hired Will, a really good creative director who had a bit more experience than me. I’ve had so much support from the industry, Jonathan, and a lot of people in the agency have been fantastic.”
She prizes honesty, and not bamboozling clients with smoke and mirrors. “To be upfront and not sugarcoating anything, that’s really important,” she says. “And I think clients really appreciate it.”
She admits to being surprised by the supportive messages she
Graduating from the prestigious Watford creatives course, Anna Carpen landed on her feet at fledgling independent 18 Feet & Rising. After some nifty footwork creating out-of-the-box campaigns for the likes of Nationwide and House of Fraser, she was rewarded with the title of ECD after just six years at the agency, making her the youngest in London. She tells David Knight the last 18 months have been hell, but now she’s coming out fighting, determined to win the battle for the top Christmas spot of 2017
“I never want to stop writing and creating. That’s what I love about this industry.”
received from strangers in the industry, particularly women, on her appointment, concluding that living in “this bubble called 18 Feet & Rising, which is really liberal and welcoming of everyone” meant she had not appreciated the problems other women have faced breaking through the glass ceiling at other agencies. Now she gets it.
Her promotion from within also ensured continuity in the way 18 Feet organises its creative department. The agency favours employing single creatives rather than teams, getting them to link up for specific projects according to their talents – “prototyping” as the agency calls it. This structure is designed to avoid teams competing with each other on pitches; instead it allows them to work together to arrive at the best solutions.
Carpen continues to work as a creative herself. “I never want to stop writing and creating,” she declares. “That’s what I love about this industry.” In the past year she has worked on ads for Clearscore, directed by TV comedy veteran Steve Bendelack, featuring an ordinary couple doing believable things, with their extraordinary talking dog called Moose. Not so coincidentally, Carpen also happens to be the owner of a dog called Moose.
“All of the scripts are based on my life with Moose,” she laughs, before explaining why the combination of realism and comic surrealism works when introducing a UK audience to Clearscore’s services. “I think America is five or ten years ahead of the UK when it comes to credit checks,” she says. “A lot of Brits don’t know what a credit score is. So we’re getting a basic message across: ‘Guys, you all have a credit score. If you ever want to buy a house or anything like that, you need to have a good one.’”
“Young talent needs mentoring, but they also need to be running stuff themselves. Ultimately that’s how I learned and got to be a creative director and ECD really quickly.”
Carpen has an English mother and a father from Mauritius, who met at nursing school. She always felt equally at home on her maternal grandparents’ farm in the English countryside and on her father’s home island in the Indian Ocean. Growing up in the late 1980s and 1990s, she caught the last era of pre-internet advertising, “when ads were really good”.
As a teenager, she wanted to be an actor. When that plan stalled she studied psychology and art at university. She came out determined to work in advertising. It took a visit to the careers advisory service at Cambridge University to find out about the famous Watford course for aspiring ad creatives. She applied and, even though she marked zero in a questionnaire testing her knowledge of the ad industry, she got in. While doing the rounds of post-Watford placements, which included time at M&C Saatchi, she landed at 18 Feet, then in its formative stage. She was invited to join the staff and has “never looked back,” she says. “It’s always been my home, and all the time I’ve been there, no two years have been the same.”
Carpen’s first success demonstrated her ability to think outside the box. When the agency won the Selfridges business, she proposed a bold idea for Project Ocean, an environmental cause championed by the store: a bucking bronco ride, but with a whale instead of the usual steed. It was a huge success with shoppers, attracting celebrities galore – and a famous photo of Prince Charles looking agog at the bucking whale.
Inventive campaigns for good causes have been a feature of Carpen’s work ever since. In the past year, outdoor digital campaign March for Giants
saw virtual elephants marching across huge outdoor screens in New York, Hong Kong, and across England, bringing attention to the plight of the endangered African elephant.
Her first TV ad was for LoveFilm, featuring a school choir singing famous lines from movies such as Pulp Fiction. This was followed by several more LoveFilm ads directed by Steve Bendelack. She says her favourite spot from her early work was the Freeview TV ad Corgi, directed by Daniel Wolfe in 2011, following three corgis on their journey from the Kent coast to London. “You think they’re going to the actual royal wedding, but instead they’re just going to watch it on a Freeview TV.”
Carpen’s early work also included the excellent Nationwide ad Carousel, a combination of live-action and stop-frame animation, directed by Eric Lynne. Later, for Nando’s, she created the Wing Roulette campaign, which began as an in-restaurant promotion on napkins and ended with a charming cinema ad, featuring diners and their finger puppet alter egos. Carpen estimates that, remarkably, she has been involved in making nearly 100 ads in just eight years. “That’s what has helped me get where I am, I think. I’ve been constantly making stuff – and making mistakes.”
House of Fraser, which was regarded as a high-end option on Britain’s provincial high streets, but with an ageing customer base, came into her life in 2014. Carpen’s brief was to change the general perception of the store and reach a younger audience. “I just started writing a load of ‘tone of voice’ for them, pulling more fashion photography,” she recalls. “That’s how we won the pitch: in-store mock-ups showing signs that said: ‘Welcome to the biggest walk-in wardrobe you’ve ever had’, rather than the more prosaic ‘Welcome to House of Fraser’.”
The first Christmas campaign was “more fashiony”, reflecting the fact that the company was employing new buyers and getting better products in store. But the following year Carpen effectively broke the rules of Christmas store advertising with Your Rules
“My favourite conversation to have with people is ‘What’s your Christmas Day like?’” Carpen says. “Everyone has their own Christmas Day routine and tradition. There will be similarities, but no one has the same rules. And as for the picture-perfect John Lewis-y Christmas with perfect kids… piss off! Sometimes I cry on Christmas Day!”
Carpen found the track, Grace’s You Don’t Own Me ft G-Eazy, and made it the heart of her ballsy music video-style antidote to the usual heartstringtugging Yuletide spots. Directed by Ace Norton, and choreographed by Parris Goebel, the project felt special right away, according to Carpen. “It was electric on the shoot. Everyone was having an amazing time and I think that shows when you watch it.”
In fact, the ad went properly viral and the song went to number one in the iTunes and Spotify charts, and was performed on The X Factor. “It’s funny when people watch Christmas ads they usually don’t take away the message. But with this, people were really like: ‘Yeah! My Christmas, my rules!’”
This year there’s a more nostalgic flavour to the House of Fraser spot. Bring Merry Back focuses on two sisters celebrating Christmas together as kids in the 1980s and in the present day, reflecting how their traditions have evolved – or not – over the years. In something of a creative coup, the ad is directed by Vaughan Arnell and Anthea Benton, the directing duo famous for music promos and spots in the 1980s and early 90s. It’s the first ad they’ve helmed since reforming their partnership earlier this year.
The likely success of Bring Merry Back, together with that of Dogs Trust’s heartwarming Little Balloon Doggy, directed by Steve Reeves, and the genuinely gripping Voices for GambleAware, mean that Carpen can regard 2017 as a truly successful first full year in the job.
So what does she now think it takes to be a good executive creative director? She sees her primary role as “putting good energy” out to her team. “Young talent needs mentoring, but they also need to be running stuff themselves. Ultimately that’s how I learned and got to be a creative director and ECD really quickly.”
“Everyone has their own Christmas Day routine and tradition. As for the pictureperfect John Lewis-y Christmas with perfect kids… piss off! Sometimes I cry on Christmas Day!”
What’s your favourite ad ever? I recently rediscovered Levi’s Creek
What product could you not live without?
Biodegradable doggy poo bags – I genuinely worry more about that than when I run out of loo roll.
What are your thoughts on social media?
Black Mirror sums up my thoughts on social media perfectly. (P.S. follow me on Insta @agame #followback #followforfollow #likeforlike #shoutout #hashtag #yolo.)
How do you relieve stress during a shoot? I love stress during a shoot. If you’re not stressed you’re nowhere. What’s the last film you watched and was it any good? Badlands. Yes.
What’s your favourite piece of tech? Voice messages. So much quicker than text, and funnier.
What film do you think everyone should have seen? Stand by Me
What fictitious character do you most relate to?
Woody from Toy Story
He’s always bouncing around trying to organise the toys and get shit done. He’s very emotional and very loyal. And trouble always finds him.
If you weren’t doing the job you do now, what would you like to be? A dog.
Tell us one thing about yourself that most people won’t know… If I told you I’d have to kill you.
With no keyboard to control, the noises one creates with modular synthesisers – vintage tech responsible for those ethereal mid-60s sci-fi sounds – are partially dictated by maths and chance. It’s this random element that Billy Faithfull believes
is a crucial part of creativity, and which informs his day job as ECD at WCRS.
Tim Cumming learns about his mellifluous meddlings when he joins him for a sound bath in his Limehouse lab
Billy Faithfull pulls back the heavy door to the studio complex on an ill-lit thoroughfare off Commercial Road in Limehouse. Nearby, the former seamen’s mission and dosshouse on Salmon Lane once hosted the exuberant loons of the Situationist International back in 1960. This avant-garde group of artists and politicos would have approved Faithfull’s set-up here, dedicated to his passion for the ultimate in retro futurism, modular synthesisers. A little history: modular synths were invented separately by Robert Moog and Buchla Electronics in the early 1960s, and are the source of all those weird, spacey noises in vintage sci-fi – think Blade Runner and Doctor
Who soundtracks (but not the latter’s original theme, famously an analogue cut-and-stick affair).
Faithfull has collected a mix of warm, oldfashioned analogue and newer digital modules, in what resembles the ominous suitcase in film noir classic Kiss Me Deadly, all hooked up to his computer system and a pair of high-end speakers set up on the wall above head height. It’s an arrangement that invites hours of creative meddling – hundreds of knobs, sockets, flashing lights and cable connections, without any clear instructions for use.
Luckily, Faithfull is on hand to explain the basics. “The synthesiser is an electrical circuit. At one end are the oscillators that produce a tone at a certain pitch. It’s then routed through a filter and effects, such as a delay or echo, to an amplifier. You can play with all those things and modulate the sound. A modulator synth takes all the elements of a synthesiser and completely separates them. It’s like an old telephone exchange, and you make all the connections”
Which means, without the guide of a keyboard, you can manipulate a mystifyingly vast range of plug-in cable combinations to create extraordinary (and sometimes extraordinarily horrible) sounds, which are able to self-generate, multiply and layer into the kind of ethereal, unending mood music normally heard in Brian Eno’s art installations. That, or head-pounding techno. It’s your choice, or at least it’s supposed to be. It’s not always so controlled – as Faithfull explains, a lot of his music-making “decisions” are actually down to chance.
The WCRS executive creative director is coming to the end of a sabbatical, much of which has been spent creating tracks in this very room. For him it has been a laboratory, a retreat, a workshop and a meditation room. It all makes for an incredibly relaxing retreat from the outside world, the working world, the to-do world. To be here is to be modular. That is, to create from basic principles sounds that have not previously existed on Earth, but only in the mind and in
this equipment, the ghost in the machine that gently reverberates in the speakers.
As Faithfull talks me through the technical background to his passion, all the while he’s ducking and diving around his kit, plugging in and pulling out cables to build up something that comes out as an extremely soothing, mellifluous sound bath. “It’s one of the better things I’ve done in a while!” he declares.
Even Faithfull gets lost trying to negotiate the number of possible connections between modules. “Chance operations” – beloved of avant-garde artists, from Dadaists to Situationists – are very much his working method when it comes to his modular synth musicmaking, but also in his creative work.
“I have a big belief that creativity is something that happens to you if you’re in the right state, whatever you’re doing and whatever fields you’re in,” says Faithfull. “It happens to you, you don’t necessarily make it happen. These instruments force you to be playful and to be more carefree in the way you generate ideas. You’re a bit less in control. That is where you get interesting things happening, such as putting different people together to solve a problem, rather than the same people doing the same thing. If you just playfully explore stuff, stuff will spill out.
“Chance and mistakes will happen, as they do in any creative process, and the modular synth is from that world of chance operations. It’s opened my head up, in the way you look at the creative task. It does feel a bit like a metaphor for the work I do. In my job, I’m really interested in the pile of stuff I’ve not been shown – I want to see the crap ideas, the stuff that was too stupid to bring to the meeting. Because that is where the gold is. The little accidents where you think, ‘That was a silly idea. I’ll put that aside.’
“That approach of being open to a different way of looking at things – that is what working with these modular synths has taught me.” S
BILLY
FAITHFULL’S WIRED FOR SOUND
“These instruments force you to be playful and to be more carefree in the way you generate ideas.”
It was the best of times it was the worst of times... We asked adland illuminati to reflect on a year in which Trump continued to put the twit in Twitter, while KFC smashed it; and ‘manning up’ joined the gender agenda. And what next, we asked? Though reality bending AR/VR and AI will flourish, the silver screen looks set to endure
A select jury of the industry’s top creatives pay homage to their picks of the campaigns that stood out in 2017. Plus, our opinionated band reveal their new year’s creative resolutions…
RICK BRIM CCO, adam&eveDDB
KFC’s Twitter stunt
I know it’s not an ad, but I love the stupidity of the KFC Twitter stunt. They followed just 11 people from their account, all five Spice Girls and six guys named Herb. That’s a total of 11 herbs and spices. I know it’s a pun, but it’s ace. The gent that spotted it was sent a two-metre-high oil painting of himself on Colonel Sanders’ back.
2018 creative resolution
To try and lighten the fuck up and not take things too seriously. You are at your best when you are being a little bit stupid.
SUSAN HOFFMAN Co-CCO, Wieden+Kennedy
Pre-Fall 2017
Damn, I love Gucci! Talk about a brand that made a big zag and is not afraid to fail. How does such an established brand do such an about-face? I’ve always loved this quote from Sagmeister – “Made you look” – and yes, Gucci certainly makes me look. I was thumbing through a magazine in China and saw this campaign. Who puts an iguana in an ad? It’s seriously crazy and fun, but at the same time sexy and beautiful. They don’t look or act like any other brand.
But Gucci doesn’t stop at clothing design; their guts are evident in everything they do, from shoes to jewellery, styling, furniture, retail, advertising and social media. I was just reading an article by marketing professor Scott Galloway (follow him – @profgalloway) about trust vs new, and how what’s becoming more important to consumers than trust is delight. Most large brands can be trusted, but who can delight? His point was that right now consumers are most keen on what’s “new”.
Consistency is at play here. Gucci has a focussed look-and-feel top to bottom. Every touch point feels consistent, whether it’s the clothes or their Instagram feed. It’s not a brand for kids, it’s premium and definitely not affordable, but it’s a brand for anyone who wants to feel youthful. That crazy sense of fun takes you away from the seriousness of life. We need some of that right now.
2018 creative resolution
I never do new year’s resolutions because resolutions shouldn’t wait for the new year.
SUSAN CREDLE CCO, FCB Global
KFC’s Twitter stunt
When someone on Twitter first discovered that KFC was following only 11 people, I was a little curious. When I discovered those 11 were six Herbs and the five Spice Girls, I mentally leapt to my feet and applauded the genius. Whoever had the idea (please, don’t let the credit list be a mile long) breathed new life into a 40-year-old message.
Why is KFC following the Spice Girls and six guys named Herb? It’s a riddle that leverages the intersection of KFC’s brand heritage and the engagement power of a modern media platform. Some of us from the 70s solve the riddle immediately. Others, born decades later, have to search for the answer. Suddenly “11 herbs and spices” is relevant again – not just to those around the first time KFC carved the phrase into cultural relevance, but to entire new generations. A dormant piece of a brand’s equity becomes provocative and valuable again. This is a simple idea born from the understanding of how a platform works – and the value of a brand equity – proof that mature brands can still be interesting. You just need a really authentic and creative idea.
2018 creative resolution
To discourage using euphemisms for the word “advertising”.
ROYER CCO, Droga5 New York
“Who’s the client?” Does it matter? Fearless Girl could have been an ad for McCann (it kind of is) or an anonymous stunt and still had the same impact. “She’s not campaignable.” Sometimes, great stunts by their nature can’t be repeated. “The client is hypocritical.” Isn’t it our job to push clients to be better?
I’ve heard the arguments about why Fearless Girl isn’t great. And the more I hear them, the more that proves to me she’s even greater. I even agree with some of the criticisms (Grand Titanium, what?) but all the jabs and swipes don’t matter. As you read this, a small group is jostling to take a photo with her right now. Simply nothing in our industry was spoken about as much as she was or had the impact she did. Hey NYC, try to take her down and watch the outrage. And don’t give me the argument about the original artist’s intention. That’s what great art and protests do. They explode and reframe what’s already there.
So ad people can keep debating. Guess what? She’s not ours anymore. Everyone embraced her, took her away from us, and took her out to the whole world.
2018 creative resolution Statues. It’s going to be all about statues. So: to build a statue.
ALEX GRIEVE & ADRIAN ROSSI Co-ECDs, AMV BBDO London
GEICO Condensed
Remember that time when ads used to make people smile? When people used to quote “Wassuuuup” in their everyday lives? When ads filled people with a little bit of joy? The trend now is to be deep and meaningful, sometimes regardless of brand, audience or what the advertising is meant to achieve.
The UK used to do funny like no one else on Earth. Now that crown sits firmly on the head of America (with honourable mentions going to New Zealand and Australia).
The UK used to make some of the funniest ads around: from Castlemaine XXXX and John West Salmon Bear, to Blackcurrant Tango St George and John Smith’s Wardrobe Monsters. Now the crown of funny has moved across the pond.
We can’t help but smile –admittedly through gritted teeth – at the brilliance of Old Spice in all its guises from social to TV, or Burger King flexing its comedic muscles in every channel. The House of Cards
campaign, which followed a day in the life of Frank Underwood in candid shots, continued to blur the lines between reality and fiction (increasingly difficult to distinguish in the White House these days) by getting Obama’s official photographer, Peter Souza, to take the photos. Darkly funny.
But what really stood out for us was Geico’s Condensed campaign. We sat on an awards jury earlier this year and after several days in a darkened room this still managed to get a group of tired, jaded, cynical (and in some cases, seismically hungover) global adland creatives to guffaw wildly. A total winner.
2018 creative resolutions
Trump, Brexit, plastic in the oceans, North Korean missiles, IS, wildfires, hurricanes, air pollution, shrinkflation on bags of Minstrels and packets of Jaffa cakes, Walnut Whips without the walnuts, impending financial crisis, leadership – or lack of it – from those in power, guns, knives… the spiralling cost, of well, just about everything. The world is going through some serious stuff.
Ads used to be a brief antidote to this. A little bit of lighthearted escapism. There will always be a place for thought-provoking, serious work, but the dial seems to have swung too far that way. What better antidote is there to all the shit in the world than to make people smile?
Being funny is an art – and one we intend to rediscover in 2018.
“I mean, who puts an iguana in an ad? It’s seriously crazy and fun, but at the same time sexy and beautiful…”
72andSunny Amsterdam’s Laura Visco, the creative director who has helped AXE redefine notions of masculinity in its latest campaigns, explores the gender gap that no one talks about – and its implications for everyone in advertising
What it means to be a woman has evolved significantly in the last 60 years. But that isn’t the case for masculinity. Although the conversation around gender has sparked a lot of healthy debate, the actual term is often only used when talking about women. What about the other half of this equation?
The truth is, when we talk about gender issues we are often prompted to think about women’s issues. We tend to believe that men have it easier. Working for a male brand for the last few years has been eyeopening for me. Because if men have it easier why are they four times more likely to commit suicide than women (according to European statistics)? Why do they make up over 90 per cent of the world’s prison population? And why, in a 2014 survey, did 69 per cent of men in the UK who suffered from depression say they’d prefer to deal with the problem themselves?
What makes the man?
This is the other gender gap, the one nobody talks about. Men are more likely to commit suicide or suffer
from depression because it’s considered unmanly to talk about their feelings or ask for help. And then they end up in trouble because we keep on teaching them to solve things with violence. Because, we say, that’s what men do.
We are encouraging girls to fight stereotypes. But we are not doing the same with boys. The privilege gap is economic and societal, yes. But not emotional. Not being able to express your feelings shouldn’t be seen as a privilege.
A 2015 study by AXE (A Cultural and Ethnographic Immersion into Male Gender) found that 98 per cent of guys have been told to “man up” by their peers, parents or teachers. In our society being a man has become a source of pressure.
As a woman, I’ve never been told to “woman up” or told that I’m not “enough of a woman”. That never occurred to me. Yes, I’ve been born with gender rules and restrictions, but femininity wasn’t something that I needed to prove to the world. That’s not the case with men. Masculinity is something that you need to conquer.
Otherwise, you are not a “real man”. You need to prove that you deserve to be called a man. Being yourself is just not enough. There are certain criteria you need to meet. These form what gender specialists call the “Man Box”: socially constructed attitudes that men are expected to own. They’re expected to be tough, stoic, breadwinners, machos, players, violent when necessary. Men are not supposed to cry or show emotions.
This is the norm, which creates a type of masculinity that can be toxic and have harmful effects on men and the people around them. From global leaders to Hollywood producers, we are starting to call out toxic masculinity. But are we doing it everywhere we should? Have you ever heard of a female mass shooter?
As gender specialist Dr Michael Kimmel pointed out after yet another mass murder: “We have a mass shooter in the US every few weeks. And every time it happens, we talk about guns. We talk about mental health. But we
don’t talk about how all of these mass shooters are male. We need to understand how masculinity has affected their experience.”
Every guy is born into a cultural idea of “man”; born into a set of limits and boundaries on how they should act, look and feel. Women are too, but the main difference is we are aware of it, after fighting against our gender limitations for the last 60 years. We debate, we protest, we sign petitions, we create hashtags. We fight for it every single day. Whereas many guys are not even aware that they have a problem. They are performing their masculinity, not living it. They are acting in front of our eyes, day after day.
Gender is a social construct that restricts self-expression and individuality, for both men and women. Men are taught that showing emotions and being sensitive demonstrates weakness, and that lowers their worth. That’s what
“We are encouraging girls to fight stereotypes. But we are not doing the same with boys. The privilege gap is economic and societal, yes. But not emotional.”
patriarchy does to men. We need to start questioning the way we raise our boys. By telling them to “man up” we are asking them to dismiss any “feminine” characteristics (empathy, emotions, sensitivity) and by doing that we are depriving them of some of their most essential human traits. Political scientist Caroline Heldman says that the idea of masculinity is tied up with a “rejection of everything that is feminine”. When we ask boys to be strong, we are also somehow demonising femininity, and establishing a power hierarchy that prevents guys from seeing women as equals and achieving true gender balance.
Masculinity shouldn’t be a rigid concept. It should always be evolving. And all of us in this industry have the power to make things better, for everyone. Let’s do it for our sons, fathers, boyfriends and partners. Imagine how great the world would be if we started encouraging men to be the truest, happiest human beings they could be.
clients. We focussed the best talent and most resources on an agency’s three biggest clients, with one fun/ local client to offer balance. It was a tough call, but our 2017 Cannes results have proven the strategy to be right, winning more awards overall. And, more importantly, more awards for our global clients.
Bruno Bertelli, global CCO, Publicis Worldwide, explains why the network canned Cannes in a move away from chasing award bling to focus their best talent on meeting the business objectives of their biggest clients
When I started at Publicis Worldwide, my ambition was to make the network more successful creatively. I guess every global CCO starts with such an aim. But creative success on its own is not enough. We needed to prove that creativity sells. I wanted our best work to come out of our biggest clients, instead of focussing our creative energy on pro bono work.
Given that charities have less accountability to shareholder value on their brands, clients have less to lose with high risk creativity. It just gets too easy to do great work when risk is not the guiding business factor. But when we honour pro bono work as the most successful campaigns our industry is producing, we are not doing ourselves any favours.
Winning awards on big brands not only allows us to create a stronger link between creativity and results, it also makes a much better new business pitch. And so I launched a global programme called 3+1, with the aim of getting all Publicis agencies to focus our best talent on achieving the optimum creative and effectiveness for our
The Publicis Groupe decision to take a pause in investing in awards and festivals came as a shock to many and, at the time, my initial reaction was that it wouldn’t help in my pursuit for changing our creative mindset. But not entering any awards has actually been a massive opportunity to change our business mindset. The breather allows us to rethink and reorganise ourselves. We spend more time now adjusting creative strategies to make them more suitable for advanced business objectives. We put collaborative work streams into action with data at the core. And we experiment with how creativity can be the guiding principle in a data-driven consumer journey.
Our industry is changing at a truly mind-blowing speed. In this environment it’s essential for us to take some time to focus on the future. My aim is to get Publicis Worldwide ready to embrace our talent from different backgrounds and business disciplines across Groupe, united in one resultsoriented, seamless working process, with creativity at the core.
I think we’re already in fairly good shape strategically. What we’re missing is creative rigour throughout the process. And the best way of getting there may not be by repeating previous behaviours, but by focussing on the things we haven’t tried before.
It’s about time we understood that this is not a women’s or men’s issue, but a human one. S S
Today, more than ever, we have to demonstrate how our industry creates business value. Winning creative awards has to become a metaphor for effectiveness. We need it to be a metaphor for work that solves business problems.
Matt Factor, president of US/UK production company SKUNK, and a juror at this year’s Ciclope Festival, holds up two stunning, but very different, pieces of socially-conscious work as examples of how perfect craft is vital for effective messaging
Let’s face it: there are a ton of crap spots and promos out there. It’s no wonder people aren’t paying attention. Most projects land at production companies and are sent to our directors with little time to create and to craft. Agencies lament the fact their clients don’t sign off on ideas in a timely manner and the media deadlines that force lightning-speed productions.
Good shit doesn’t just happen. Creating something that moves us as human beings, whether it’s a piece of music, a painting, a film, a commercial, a music video, short film or experiential piece takes inspiration, insight, deep thought, technical knowhow, planning, follow-through and a sprinkling of pixie dust. The best creators understand what’s come before them, learn from it, are touched by that vast body of knowledge and art, and then find their individual way of adding to it.
Craft festivals and the work they acknowledge in cinematography, production design, editorial, music, direction and post effects – among
other categories – are an opportunity to honour all the disciplines that go into making a great piece of work.
In today’s fast-paced, pocket computer-based onslaught, I find it’s easy to forget what it takes to make a touching, moving piece of communication. Watching Kim Gehrig’s presentation at Ciclope this year on the process of developing a script then planning for a shoot, reminded me of the importance of the creative process and all the disciplines that must work hand-inhand to create a powerful film.
When makers come to set having put the time in, they’re free to let the magic happen on set. There are so many opportunities for a great idea to go to shit, craft festivals are a great chance to revere the ones that actually made it through.
Honouring the different disciplines that go into a film, and having a chance to hear from and see the work of some of the top makers in our business has the capacity to inspire us – the production companies, our agency
Jay-Z,The Story of OJ
2/3 Sandy Hook Promise, Evan
partners and brands. Watching the Ciclope honorees and speakers –great directors like Tom Kuntz and Noam Murro, or the award-winning production designer Hannah Beachler – and reviewing their bodies of work reminds us that there are still great creative opportunities out there in a business driven more and more by metrics, testing and re-testing. When a smart kernel of an idea is given time to evolve and crafted well, we can create spots, music videos or experiences that move humans both emotionally and towards the brands or causes they support.
Two films that have done well on the craft festival circuit this year are Jay-Z’s The Story of OJ and Sandy Hook Promise Evan. The choices made in crafting these films, right down to the type of animation, are what makes them stand out. The first is a beautifully old-school animated music video embodying farreaching social commentary about race and class, while Evan is a film
that could only be effective because of the way it has been crafted visually, exemplifying the message that we should watch out for easily missed cues all around us, to prevent events we don’t want to imagine. It’s important that these kinds of films get made and acknowledged, and it’s obvious how relevant they are to the world we currently inhabit.
Marketers talk about effectiveness versus creativity, but don’t they go hand in hand? Today, consumers have many more opportunities to scrub through our ads, so now, more than ever, is the time to craft spots that grab – and hold – their attention.
“In today’s fast-paced, pocket computer-based onslaught, I find it’s easy to forget what it takes to make a touching, moving piece of communication.”
Trump on Twitter, dark social, insourcing, in-house fails and AI that can spot fake news all came to light when we asked top industry insiders for their reviews of 2017 and forecasts for an industry in flux
CCO, St Luke’s
In general, do you think 2017 has been a good year for creative advertising? Pretty strong. I’ve seen more work that’s made me jealous this year than in many recent years.
What piece or pieces of work have impressed you most over the last year? Kwiff, Paddy Power, Yorkshire Tea, Anthony Joshua for Lucozade
Sport. The Second Speech for VW. The amazing Marmite Gene Project and, of course, the magnificent Superhumans for C4. I would have burst with pride to have done a couple of them.
What have been the biggest talking points of 2017 in the agency world? Diversity and advertising as a force for good. Plus, insourcing creativity and production are the ones I’ve engaged in the most.
Publicis’s withdrawal from Cannes and other shows for 12-months sparked conversation about the validity of these events. What’s your opinion of advertising’s relationship with awards? Cannes seems to be cultivating the industry to create a certain type of work. A social experiment, or a piece of NPD that changes the world for the better in some small way that can only really be expressed through online films. I wonder if this is because the major sponsors of the
“I think we need to talk about political advertising. Right now, any politician can make any promise they like without any intention of delivering.”
event are online channels?
In terms of advertising’s relationship with awards, awards do tend to correlate strongly with effectiveness so anything that inspires clients to make good work has to be a good thing. I’m not comfortable, though, with how awards create marketing-tomarketing communications – activity designed principally for agencies and clients to outdo one another rather than to connect with their audiences.
The much-maligned, Kendal Jenner-starring Pepsi commercial from earlier this year seemed to put a dent in the client-in-houseproduction approach; do you think that trend is still a worry for agencies? In-house production can be an inspiration to agencies. Look at what C4 Creative does. The problem with Pepsi was speaking truth to power. I guess everyone apart from a handful of Pepsi execs would have known that commercial was going to do nothing except call in a social media airstrike on their heads. The problem was no one dared to speak up. That’s why talented outsiders are so valuable.
What do you think the biggest talking points of 2018 might be? I think we need to talk about political advertising. Right now, any politician can make any promise they like without any intention of delivering. If ads for, say, Toilet Duck or Murray
Mints did the same, we and our clients would be called immediately to account.
What do you think the agency sector’s New Year’s resolution should be? Love your audience and stop worrying about what the other shops are doing.
What will be your own New Year’s resolution, work related or otherwise? More laughter with [ECD] Richard Denney, [owner] Jules Vizard and the rest of St Luke’s.
ADAM GRINT
creative director, The Mill London
How has technology impacted on the advertising industry in 2017? 2017 has seen the disruptive effect of technology on our industry become more tangible. There is also a realisation that we need to meet technological advances with creative-tech solutions; that this new marketplace requires a response that fuses technology with creativity to produce experiences that speak to people, especially younger generations, in a new way that doesn’t feel like overt advertising.
Whereas 2016 was about testing the water, with VR primarily, this year has seen a wild diversification into built spaces, sensory installations, room-scale VR and augmented reality filters and apps.
What new tech-based work have you admired or been involved with in 2017? At the heart of the best tech-based advertising work is a brand willing to take a risk. It would be good to see more brands jumping in at the deep end, rather than waiting for a piece of tech to be proven in the field. Like Audi, whose Enter Sandbox experience allowed you to create your own off-road track in a sandbox and then drive around it virtually.
The tech giants have a different agenda – to push new platforms and mediums which inevitably throws up technology-advancing work.
Whether that be Google’s AI experiments, Facebook’s AR filters or their social VR platform – Facebook Spaces, as well as sponsoring content that highlights their platforms.
Other media companies are also straying into tech-based content –such as The Guardian, which has built a strong VR platform of quality journalistic content developed sensitively for the medium.
2017 has also seen an injection of much needed fun, like the social, two-player aspect of Chris Milk’s The Life of Us or the new Facebook filters to launch Game of Thrones Season 7.
Location-based entertainment is attracting some of the best work.
Alejandro González Iñárritu’s Carne y Arena was a VR installation in which [the viewer] is dropped into a harrowing run across the US-Mexican border.
The merging of genres and the use of high-end VR for live events is an interesting evolution. The Mill worked alongside Wieden+Kennedy Amsterdam on an event that blended immersive theatre with a fully sensory, room-scale VR experience. Corona’s Paraiso Secreto led you on a journey through an old hacienda in Mexico City to a virtual paradise where you could interact with nature virtually as well as physically. Despite this project pushing the boundaries of VR tech, it wasn’t about the tech – it enabled guests to be totally embedded in nature, and by extension the brand message of reconnecting with the outdoors.
2017 was touted as the year of VR but is it here to stay? The price point of the higher-end hardware, the lack of quality content and the fragmented distribution of that content are all barriers to wide-scale adoption, plus people need time to incorporate it into their lives meaningfully. But there is simply no other medium that can mainline your emotional senses as effectively. New, cheaper headsets will open up quality experiences for more users and, as the VR language develops, the content marketplace has
“This year has seen a wild diversification into built spaces, sensory installations, room-scale VR and AR filters and apps.”
evolved this year from a place of experimentation to a place of worthwhile experiences.
We are also seeing a demand for VR being used to drive live events, giving people access to high-end equipment that they’d otherwise not be able to afford.
What impact has/will voice recognition have on advertising and how it reaches consumers?
A side effect of voice recognition is the amassing of data. Amazon’s Echo and Google’s Home are already efficient harvesters of information and can now add non-visual searches to their vast data sets.
While the concentration of data in the hands of a few behemoth tech companies is worth monitoring,
it should also offer more acutely targeted advertising, refined through AI to better understand people. If Amazon knows our purchase history and searches, we will likely be served content that is relevant and useful.
Does the rise of fake news spell trouble for advertisers? The apparent lack of regulation online and the ease and speed with which false information spreads online –especially if that misinformation is being unwittingly funded by automated advertising – has not helped the issue of trust online. Google and Facebook are taking a more responsible, proactive position on tackling the issue, but the solution ultimately will be provided by machine learning,
which is already a more efficient means of detecting false information than trawling by humans. We can’t amass the analytical power to cross-reference facts and spot irregular patterns at the scale that is achievable by computers that can self-learn.
We may never get to the level of trust that the walled-garden of TV has enjoyed but through tech-based solutions, and being creatively distinct in our work, we’ll build trust.
What’s been your favourite new piece of tech this year? I’d have to choose the launch of ARKit (Apple) and ARCore (Android), the two software platforms that allow us to convincingly place virtual objects in the real world through AR.
What do you think the next big trend in technology could be?
An amalgamation of AI with AR/VR and continued advances in real-time rendering to enable us to make more unique experiences that offer more choice. In the social arena, these experiences will open up demand for more realistic avatars – extending the work already being done in facial capture and digital humans.
What do you think the advertising tech sector’s New Year’s resolution should be? Set the agenda rather than wait for someone else to steal the march.
HARVEY COSSELL Head of strategy, We Are Social
What’s been the biggest talking point in social media marketing in 2017? Influencer marketing has been on the agenda for a while, but this year it’s taken a firm grip on the industry and it’s not letting go. It’s now considered an essential part of a brand’s marketing strategy, rather than an add-on to a social campaign, as it has been in previous years. But this doesn’t mean everyone is now doing it well; most brands know they should be working with influencers, but they don’t know how to go about it effectively or measure the results.
What’s the most creative social media campaign you’ve seen in 2017 and why? Heineken’s Worlds Apart campaign stood out for me. It was a beautifully simple idea that captured the tension in a post-Brexit Britain coming to terms with a rise in intolerance in society.
And the most influential? We’ve been working with adidas for the last few years to build up the Tango Squads – a huge network of microinfluencers across European cities, connected with adidas using dark social [social sharing that can’t be tracked by web analytics, such as via email or WhatsApp]. We’ve recently brought this out into the light with a long-form content series called Tango Squad F.C. Brands need to be clever in the way they
approach influencer marketing. This campaign has harnessed the power of dark social to build a network of passionate ambassadors for adidas, and now it’s evolving into a campaign to reach a mass market target audience.
You mentioned last year that live-streaming was a big thing through 2016. Has that upswing continued and, if so, how has it manifested itself? Live-streaming is now just part of the furniture. Its next evolution may come when (if?) Facebook Watch establishes itself as a mainstream channel, given its schedule features live content.
You’ve said brands need to be more aware of “social thinking” and not simply use social media as another platform opportunity. Do you think more brands have achieved that? The brands we work with are definitely focussed on a more
through to the mainstream. Do you think that’s because it is not, inherently, a social medium? VR allows us to connect with each other so it is inherently social. I’d say its issue is a case of accessibility. There’s no critical mass of VR headsets yet, which we need for it to be regarded as a bona fide social medium.
Do you think that President Trump using Twitter to declare political strategy and debate world events has helped or hindered the legitimacy of the platform? It’s great PR for Twitter, keeping the platform front of mind as a news source and turning it into a modernday newswire. Given Twitter’s push towards becoming a breaking news-focussed platform, having an ambassador like Trump (who is after all, President of the US) using the site to do just this can surely only help legitimise its position as a credible [or fake!] news aggregator.
“…it is possible to succeed on social with longer-form content, assuming it’s culturally relevant.”
culturally-led way of communicating. I think more brands are aware that they need to play an authentic and relevant role in consumers’ lives. However, the challenge remains that platforms are still talking the language of interruption when it comes to ad formats – the focus for them is on reach, frequency and brand awareness only. So, there’s often a lack of synchronicity when trying to push a cultural message.
VR, despite the hype and money invested, has still not really broken
What do you think the next big trend in social media will be? I’d like to see a flip in the focus on creating three- or six-second pieces of content on social to 10, 15 or even 30 minutes. It could spell the second coming of Advertiser Funded Programming (AFP), as platforms like Facebook Watch will be ad funded and will need content. Despite today’s push of short-form video, marketers need to be more ambitious – it is possible to succeed on social with longer-form content, assuming it’s culturally relevant.
RICHARD GLASSON CEO, Hogarth Worldwide
In general, do you think 2017 has been a good year for creative advertising? That depends on your perspective. In terms of creative work, 2017 has been a year like many others – notable high points and wellpublicised low points. In terms of the shape of the creative industry and the commercial and competitive environment in which it operates, 2017 has been a year of huge change. Continuing to evolve to produce the best and most engaging work in the context of ever tighter budgets and greater content needs across both old and new channels, is a challenge to which the industry needs to rise. I’d say that was a work in progress.
What piece or pieces of work have impressed you most over the last year? It has to be the Rolex film to launch their sponsorship of the Academy Awards. As well as being a beautiful film, which celebrated the medium at the heart of the partnership, there was the wonderful coincidence of a sentimental clip of Bill Paxton in Titanic the day after his death.
What have been the biggest talking points of 2017 in the production arena? 2017 was a seminal year. The production world is changing at an
astonishing rate and clients have decided that they want to contract directly with the companies making their work, and the new normal has become a triumvirate of creative, media and implementation agencies. This trend will continue and will drive substantial structural change across the agency landscape. It will give clients access to the best of what’s possible in production, while maintaining the creative integrity and quality that has to pervade ad communication in all forms.
In-house production, and agencies such as Hogarth, continue to be at the forefront of production minds. How has that situation evolved in last 12 months and should traditional production outfits still be concerned? There are some serious misunderstandings and myths in the market about what constitutes in-house production and the nature of the relationships between companies such as Hogarth and their clients. We put in a production management platform for our clients that gives them access to production capabilities globally, some of which will be provided by our own employees, and some which will come through third parties we engage on their behalf. In-house is the old agency, studio model and our business is very different from that. We have direct relationships with clients, which allows us to act agnostically and collaboratively across their entire creative agency base. We see ourselves as supporters and enablers of a vibrant creative industry in a rapidly changing world.
Do you think that the number of companies challenging the traditional method of production will continue to grow and how do you think that will affect the landscape of the production community? The short answer is yes. We were a company that disrupted the market and we expect new disruptors to come in. Technology will continue to drive innovation and efficiency. Our challenge is to
maintain and grow our pioneering spirit, to make sure we continue to offer clients a forward-looking model that takes advantage of what’s possible in the world of production. That requires investment in talent and technology, open-mindedness and increasing levels of expertise.
What do you think the biggest talking points of 2018 might be? If I knew the answer to that I’d head down to the betting shop right now! I think some of the themes are quite clear. The role and ambition of the online giants such as Google and Facebook; the new technologies which will drive relevance, speed and engagement; the emergence of new competitors into the marketing world; and how to use data wisely
and effectively. There are so many, and I could go on, but the truism that change is the only constant has never been more accurate in our industry than it is right now.
What do you think the production sector’s New Year’s resolution should be? To be an advocate of the creative industry and of the best work in everything we do and say. But always to keep on reforming and innovating.
What will be your own New Year’s resolution, work-related or otherwise? That’s easy. My wife and I have a baby due in February, so my resolution is to be the best old dad I can be. I’m sure my teenage kids will be full of advice for me!
“…the new normal has become a triumvirate of creative, media and implementation agencies. This trend is set to continue…”
SIMON COOPER
Managing partner, Academy Films
In general, do you think 2017 has been a good year for creative advertising? Better than 2016, not as good as 2018, hopefully. But I’m writing this before the deluge of Christmas ads, so I might change my mind. It does feel like there is a growing desire to return to intelligent, engaging pieces of work that get talked about in the pub. I’ve felt less shouted at in 2017, less compelled to skip. Maybe the realisation might slowly be taking hold that unwatched content is worthless, no matter how much of it you might be getting for your pound. There has been plenty out there this year that I wish we’d done.
What piece or pieces of work have impressed you most in 2017?
Presuming it’s not the done thing to mention one’s own output, and with
apologies for listing them as if they were the director’s work alone: The Sacred Egg’s Mailchimp madness, Ringan’s Clowns for Audi and Last Days for Jose Cuervo, Jaron Albertin’s Get Closer for Bose, Matthijs’s Samsung Ostrich and Kia Hero’s Journey, Sam Brown’s Stroll for Apple AirPods, Tony Barry’s McDonald’s McCafe Madness, James Rouse’s AA road safety spot Designated Driver, Ian Pons Jewell’s I Love Doing Dishes for Finish. In every case the aim is true and the creative ambition is clear, whether it is epic in scale or modest. None feels meddled with or compromised by last minute doubts or testing. Most would have been ruined by research.
What have been the biggest talking points of 2017 in the production arena? Disappointingly, the same as last year – in-house production and diversity. We seem to be making headway in the UK with the first and not nearly enough with the second, other than in the usual horrible box-ticking way in front of camera, and Free The Bid behind it. Hopefully that will change next year with more BAME-focussed, Streetlights-style initiatives starting here. [LA-based streetlights.org places ethnic minority crew onto shoots]. Watercooler highpoints were Pepsi’s ad managing to combine both issues in a perfect storm of shitness, Nils Leonard vs George Clooney [Halo coffee], Nicole Kidman’s weird Oscars clapping, Bohemian Rhapsody with footballers…
“It is undeniably harder to launch new talent as the traditional habitats of young directors get destroyed.”
In-house production, both within agencies and clients, continues to be at the forefront of production minds. How has that situation evolved in last 12 months and should traditional production outfits still be concerned? I think we probably all know where we stand better now than a year ago. Agencies and clients will continue to produce content in-house and the independent sector will continue to offer a financially and creatively competitive alternative landscape. As long as we don’t give in-house production the appearance of competitive validity by competing against them on what can never be an even playing field, and as long as brands still have the desire to ensure they are getting a true creative and financial choice for their content production, then I believe there is probably room for us all.
Is the term traditional now just a euphemism for old-fashioned. Do production companies – whether old or new – now need to be more than a company that makes great advertising films? Being a company that makes great advertising films is still an admirable and sustainable ethos, but we all need to be less traditional in our approach to that end goal. Passively waiting for agency work to come along wouldn’t be doing justice to the directorial talent we rep and the production
excellence we can offer, but it is up to individual companies to what degree they want to position themselves as agencies or TV networks to that end. For Academy and A+ the key has always been the quality of the output, the ability to pick and choose those opportunities, rather than maximise volume, whether the funding is brand related or otherwise. But the vast majority of what we do is still making advertising films.
The barrier of entry to becoming a director is low, but the competition is very high. How has that affected bringing in new talent to the industry? It is harder to launch new talent as the traditional habitats of young directors disappear. Lowbudget commercial work, where risks used to be taken, has been swallowed by in-house production, and music videos have so little money attached they rarely offer any opportunities to experiment and grow.
New directors need strong voices and for us to find them opportunities to demonstrate those voices, whatever the budget. Agencies and clients need to recognise the value of supporting that process and taking a risk sometimes. Those of us with a reputation for launching and growing talent are at an advantage because there’s trust that we can deliver with an untested director.
What might 2018’s talking points be? Hopefully, the continued resurgence of great unskippable, pub-discussed, independently produced advertising and the remarkable rise in production budgets to that end. I hope it isn’t the ugly exposing of an advertising dirty dossier of historical bad awards behaviour and ill-judged knee touches. It will probably be in-house production and diversity…
What do you think the production sector’s New Year’s resolution should be? Trust in our brilliance; don’t make shit; don’t compete with in-house; don’t loan out directors; drink Nils’s coffee; don’t touch knees.
Who’d predict the future in this most unpredictable age? shots found four brave industry experts willing to say their sooth about the technologies and topics that will be trending over the next 12 months
Amy Kean, VP, strategy & planning, Beamly, dries her tears to look at the latest, craziest trend: staffing consultancies with women to ask women how to best market to them
I don’t remember the exact date I stopped crying, but it was circa spring 2015, when Dove released another of their Real Beauty videos. In this virally distributed hit, a series of normal women going about their normal day approach a normal building. So far, so normal. But here’s the twist: instead of a normal entrance, the women are faced with two doors, one marked “beautiful” and one marked “average”. They must walk through the door they believe best describes them.
These women were 100 per cent real, not paid actors (promise), and Dove delivered an epiphany to every one of them. You thought you were average, but no, woman! You’re beautiful… in your own way. Let these doors be a lesson to you.
It was universally agreed that with this ad the Real Beauty narrative had jumped the shark. It was such a grotesque display of emotional manipulation I reported it to the ASA about a hundred times.
Of course, anybody with dehydrated skin knows that washing with soap contributes very little to
an effective skincare routine, let alone beauty, but facts don’t matter when you’re trying to maintain a movement often mockingly referred to as “femvertising”: the pure exploitation of women’s insecurities.
“Real beauty” ads have helped women much in the same way as Bridget Jones: not at all. The female of the species has been represented as a trembling, boozy, confused, crying fool for too long. We’re the gender that apparently needs a brand to tell them everything’s gonna be OK. As I watched women being forced to choose between “average” and “beautiful” doors I made a vow never to cry again.
But it’s not just Dove. For decades, washing powders, gravy granules, telephone companies, department stores, fizzy drinks and fragrances have been trying to make women cry. Cry about our relationship with our mum. Cry about the guy losing the girl. Cry about old men doing various lonely things. Cry because we’re ugly. Cry because something about a
“For decades, washing powders, gravy granules, telephone companies, department stores, fizzy drinks and fragrances have been trying to make women cry.”
dog. Cry because kids in Africa don’t have clean water. (That last one is OK to cry about. I’m not a monster.)
So vast were the causes of crying, supermarket aisles became filled with the tears of frustrated housewives desperately seeking a new source of sob-fodder. And then, back in 2015, when I worked for a media agency, I remember brainstorming a summer campaign for a charity client alongside their creative team. The charity boasted a female founder in the 1900s. “Maybe we should run with the woman…” said the creative director, Brian (not his real name). “Feminism’s very IN nowadays, isn’t it?”
This statement typified an awkward faux paradigm shift as marketers realised tears were old news and switched lanes to “empowered”. Women are strong and powerful and free, says Brian! Empowered is IN! We’re fighting and dancing and chewing gum and eating biscuits with sass because women are sassy now. Every time a brand releases their “empowered woman” ad they get applause from the marketing world and the Cannes award entry writes itself.
Smashing things up
I recently read a report from Google saying that women have doubled the amount of “empowering” content they’re watching. “From 2014 to 2015, we saw a significant increase in the number of empowering advertisements on our YouTube Ads Leaderboard, our monthly tracker of the most watched ads on YouTube.” Does that mean they like it, or does it mean there’s just more of it, so women have no choice but to watch “empowered” ads for 30 seconds before the stuff they wanted to watch in the first place? I should note that, in the last few years Beyoncé has released two exceptional visual albums which, to be honest, is all the empowering content on YouTube I need, so perhaps I’m singlehandedly
responsible for this growth. But evidently, as is the advertising industry’s way, empowerment has turned from something lovely into a flippant piece of jargon on every 2016 marketing brief.
In the second half of this year, however, I’ve sensed a change. Women are being spoken to, and about, as regular people. Bodyform created an ad with real blood. The beauty brand Sleek released an incredible online video entitled My Face. My Rules. that encouraged men and women to wear make-up however the fuck they want, wherever the fuck they want. The latest Chanel ad features subtle rebel Kristen Stewart running (to the Beyoncé song Running) through what looks like a wall of giant perfume bottles. I’m not sure where she is, but she does a fair amount
of damage and it’s probably going to be sectioned off for weeks. A regular hoover won’t get that lot up. But at least she’s not crying or announcing her empowerment. She’s just smashing shit up, and it’s cool.
zero fucks
Debenhams doesn’t immediately spring to mind as a feminist trendsetter, but their Christmas ad has arguably shunned all clichés. No tears, no rebellion, just a nice little story with two attractive people and OMG I LOVE EWAN MCGREGOR
“Women are strong and powerful and free… We’re fighting and dancing and chewing gum and eating biscuits with sass because women are sassy now.”
selling Christmas products. The leading lady isn’t stressed because once again she’s preparing the family Christmas single-handedly, and she’s not even necking a glass of Chardonnay on her own while embarking upon a chain of hilariously clumsy events so embarrassing they’d make even Miranda blush. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m enjoying the normality of it all. Interestingly, the folks responsible for that Debenhams ad, JWT, just launched a consultancy that – shock horror – has conducted research on women and is – shock horror – run mostly by women to – utter lightbulb moment – give guidance on the best way to advertise to women. It’s a hare-brained scheme, but it might just work. Perhaps the Debenhams ad was a pilot project. And my new book The Little Girl Who Gave Zero Fucks (available to pre-order on www. unbound.com) is my own attempt to promote a normal, well adjusted way of looking at life. No crying. No fauxpowerment. Just women being interesting and normal: no doors.
Debenhams, You Shall
At the latest 3% conference Cindy Gallop reminded us that even though the bulk of marketing targets are women – women account for 85 per cent of all consumer purchases in the US – most of the creative directors responsible for the ads are men (89 per cent). That certainly rang true during the years we were made to cry about our choice of gravy granules, and later, when everyone decided feminism was fashionable. But it feels like it’s changing, possibly because the number of female creative directors and marketing leads is growing. So hopefully we’re heading for a tear-free, zero-fucks future.
Simon Cook, director of creative excellence, Cannes Lions, tries to capture the increasingly complex and diverse future of advertising work in one simple and elegant term
“Well, we do have this one thing we’re working on… but it’s not really very Cannes,” is something we hear from time to time.
Advertising’s creative landscape has evolved dramatically, particularly over the last 10 years, and Lion recipients are becoming increasingly diverse to match. Winning work is coming from an increasingly diverse set of players, and this is reflected in some of the multidisciplined juries that bring unique perspectives to the debate.
Cannes Lions winners are emerging victorious from the Palais award shows and descending those (in)famous red steps, wielding shiny new Lions not just for ads and art anymore but also for PR, products, platforms and IP.
Adland is famed for its love of buzzwords. These normally fall into one of two types: the disposable jargon that helps to describe fleeting trends or paper over the gaps in our collective understanding (remember phygital or advertainment?); or a word or phrase that was always right under our noses, but which takes on a new, more powerful meaning –think of storytelling, for example. Then there are the real rarities –sometimes a word or term is born with a beautiful, inherent simplicity, which perfectly articulates something that was, until that moment, undefinable.
Among the juries at the Cannes
Festival in 2017, there was a shared and very tangible feeling that the body of work that emerged that year felt different from previous seasons. The shift was hard to describe, but certainly noticeable. Many will claim the term that emerged to very elegantly describe the fresh breed of work as their own. But whoever coined it in the recesses of Cannes’
jury rooms, its birth was a bright light bulb moment – The New Work.
The New Work is work that sits beyond advertising. It is work that creates, or changes culture. It crosses multiple channels of traditional advertising and crosses over into the worlds of innovation, product design, commerce and experience.
We talk about work entering culture, but what about work that enters the curriculum? Cannes jury members were suitably wowed by Channel 4’s We’re The Superhumans, the campaign by Blink Productions and 4Creative that’s now studied by students in the UK as part of the national curriculum. We hear a lot about life-changing creativity (it’s a phrase we use at Cannes Lions to talk about Lions Health), but
“The New Work is work that sits beyond advertising. It is work that creates, or changes culture. It crosses multiple channels and crosses over worlds.”
Northwell Health’s development of a prosthetic leg that enabled amputees to go swimming gave the term real meaning.
Even some of Cannes Lions’ harshest critics give the festival credit for broadening the definition of creativity, especially since we launched the new awards architecture for 2018. Industry luminaries have rejoiced in the reconfiguration of a framework that now allows for a new breed of creative mastery and turns a spotlight on the emerging facets of contemporary creativity.
Mark Tutssel, global CCO of Leo Burnett, described the new architecture as reflecting “the way that we as an industry conceive, create, craft, innovate and, most importantly, impact our clients’ businesses today.”
If we and Mark are right, this is how the New Work can grow.
There seems to be a consensus that environments, frameworks and cultures that allow such work to flourish should be celebrated. I’ve just spent three years working with creative leaders of different stripes to develop the awards architecture that we recently unveiled for Cannes Lions 2018. The Cannes Festival structure just facilitated. The architecture actually came from the industry itself – and that’s important to remember.
On stage at Cannes this year Chloe Gottlieb, EVP/CCO, R/GA USA, referred to the New Work as “more important than whether or not it’s a film. It’s about the idea, and transcendence”. And I couldn’t have put it better myself.
I have to thank the many contributors who helped to carve out the way forward for the awards, and we’re excited to see the work that will emerge at the festival in 2018 –the diverse New Work. The work that is “not really very Cannes”.
Tom Linay, head of film, Digital Cinema Media London, sees a bright future of growth for this old medium, where viewers will actually pay to pay attention to unskippable advertising
Throughout the last century, the death knell has been sounded for cinema on many occasions, inspired by the advent of radio, television, VCR, Adam Sandler’s career and HD streaming. Yet cinema admissions are all set to cross the 170 million mark, a figure that has only been reached six times in the previous 45 years.
While most traditional media have felt the digital squeeze, cinema has bucked the trend over the last three years to hit new heights. 2015 saw a record revenue increase of 25 per cent, rebasing cinema’s share within the ad market. This was reinforced with a six per cent rise in 2016 and, with ad revenue set to rise again in 2017 in a particularly challenging market, the value and power of the medium of cinema is more relevant than ever.
This growth is a big draw for brands who are recognising that cinema’s proposition is stronger than ever. Cinema is becoming an intrinsic part of the AV schedule, driving sustainable, long-term growth for brands. Some of the most effective campaigns consider how cinema’s emotional impact can be maximised, while long-form campaigns are also perfect for the big screen, with over 180 advertisers showcasing their stories on the cinema screen during the last 12 months.
With content that is unskippable and of the highest quality, people
are actually paying to pay attention. Rather than blocking ads, fastforwarding through them or closing their eyes on the tube, cinemagoers are always looking forward. Brands are taking advantage of this to build key metrics, such as salience, consideration and love. The recent Digital Cinema Media Awards celebrated the best creative that has
been seen on the big screen in the last 12 months; the standout work was long-form creative that told a compelling story and worked hard to engage an attentive audience. The Grand Prix winner was Channel 4 and OMD’s film for Channel 4’s Rio Paralympics coverage, We’re The Superhumans, which improved an already stunning creative with a cinema-only signed version, with the signer almost as entertaining as the ad itself.
Brands are also recognising the kudos and prestige that comes from aligning themselves with the best feature film content, evidenced by some striking partnerships. San Miguel took ownership of the outdoor screening season across the summer, partnering with
“Brands are recognising the kudos and prestige that comes from aligning themselves with the best content, evidenced by some striking partnerships.”
Picturehouse Pop-Up cinema, showcasing classic films in stunning locations. Last year, when Leffe sponsored the event, people could drink beer while watching Groundhog Day at the Asylum chapel in London’s Peckham –that’s a day to relive over and over.
Max Factor has just begun a year-long partnership instructing cinemagoers how to “get the look” of some of the most stunning upcoming films. It has already kicked-off with Murder on the Orient Express, although they couldn’t tell us how to grow a moustache like Kenneth Branagh’s. The next film they’re focussing on is 2018’s big musical, The Greatest Showman, which stars Hugh Jackman and Zac Efron. Is the High School Musical magic still there? We’ll find out on January 1.
Exhibitors are looking forward, too. Seats are getting comfier and new high-profile cinemas seem to be launched on a weekly basis, with Everyman On The Corner in London’s King’s Cross the latest cinema Mecca.
Technology is developing, with 4DX, the immersive, multi-sensory experience, reaching 14 screens in 2018 and 22 screens in 2022 – ideal for the next Avengers film, maybe not for Fifty Shades Freed. This year saw the first 4DX ad – for Xbox’s Forza driving game, which picked up a DCM Award for innovation.
It’s undeniable that the best content is on the big screen – look at Dunkirk, La La Land, Blade Runner 2049 or Paddington 2. There’s plenty more where that came from on the horizon: a new film from Steven Spielberg, Gary Oldman as Winston Churchill, another beautiful original title from Pixar and a new sci-fi stunner from Ex Machina’s Alex Garland. If you want to be in the most exciting spot in advertising, cinema’s got the best seat in the media landscape house.
Isabella Parish, managing director at 1stAvenueMachine
London, predicts a brave new creative future amid shifting relationships, changing platforms and disruptive technologies
I love singing shrimps, gravitydefying cats and overzealous DIY, but mostly I love the fact that, despite the plates shifting in the client, agency and production company relationships, the creative production community is still making the best, weirdest and most beautiful advertising ever.
At the beginning of the year I worried that our bravery had been stifled and that we would be paralysed by a double-edged sword of fear and change that could only produce bland content. Yet we have barrelled through 2017 with a mountain of brilliant work dialling up what we do best and often pushing for change. And as things get a bit more precarious due to our surreal politics, and the trickle-down effect of this, we have been actively supporting each other and talking openly about how we are going to make things better in our industry.
I have loved that production companies are still supporting young directors in music videos and low budget content, in a way that other entities can’t or won’t do. Finding, nurturing and encouraging talent from the ground up, creating an environment in which they can express themselves, is one of our most important roles, and if we can feed a little diversity into the industry from here, then even better.
I see the previously steep client/ agency/production power pyramid
shifting into a mountain range of peaks as each area of the production process, from the writing to the delivery, is taking control of its own destiny. We all need each other and there is no doubt that the traditional 30-second TV ad afforded us by excellent programme makers (please continue to make Hunted and the loathsome Love Island!) is what we
all know and love, but the nearly perpendicular trend of short-form content being commissioned by media platforms, such as YouTube, Snapchat or the New York Times, has given us a new freedom and endless opportunity for filmmaking if we are willing to jump in.
Consumption of fiction and non-fiction, branded or commissioned by the platforms we are watching them on, is where our heads are; this is where we spend our day, where we get our news and our stories. Many of us go home and turn the TV on, but we browse all the way home and even while watching The Handmaid’s Tale (especially episode four, that was so tense I had to hide in my Facebook feed, watching the screen through my fingers).
We need to get smarter in the way we engage with short-form content
“Finding, nurturing and encouraging talent from the ground up, creating an environment in which they can express themselves, is one of our most important roles.”
because, unlike straightforward TV, you can skip an ad with a swipe of a finger. Brands need to invest more in entertainment. At 1stAveMachine, we recently launched a YouTube channel and were able to stretch our creative output to make films that we don’t usually have access to in the commercial space. This meant we had the freedom to explore themes and stories for a longer period of time than just a traditional two-tothree month production stint. I’m sure that in 2018 we will see an increase in the convergence of entertainment and advertising.
Where developing technologies such as AR/MR/VR will end up isn’t exactly clear yet. But these technologies aren’t going away and it is our responsibility to experiment with content in these new spaces because whenever the train arrives, we better be on it. In the two years from 2008, a boom in smartphones meant that if you didn’t have the latest device you were an outcast, and I predict that 2018 is going to be the same for VR and associated technologies. Earlier this year 1stAve announced a collaboration with VR creators network Kaleidescope, which has enabled us to work with artists who each have their own speciality, from storytelling to interactive to functional, but all perfectly poised for this new media. What I do hope for 2018 is that we will work with our friends and colleagues at agencies, production companies and brands to make sure that positive change, even in the smallest area, is at the nub of each conversation. Maybe we need to make ethical decisions about the platforms we support, but let’s be sure to include a conversation at the start of every project that might be about employing a more inclusive crew, committing to an eco-efficient shoot, or tackling big-picture issues – and let’s celebrate that!
In the world of advertising there are always bottomdrawer scripts and ideas that have, so far and for various reasons, remained unmade. There are also those scripts that started with great potential, but ended up as damp squibs. Then there are those that could not – indeed, should not – ever be made. In his ongoing series, David Kolbusz, CCO of Droga5 London, plays devil’s advocate with the imaginary scripts that taste forgot
We open on Sharon and a small group of her friends – Claire, Bobby J and Demetrius – meeting up for drinks at a pop-up bar that specialises in pre-Edwardian cocktails. As they sip their Sherry Cobblers, idle chit-chat gives way to a more heartfelt pronouncement from Claire, commenting on Sharon’s latest enterprise.
CLAIRE: Congratulations on your new blog, Sharon.
BOBBY J: It’s great.
SHARON: Thanks guys. Actually I prefer to call it an online zine.
DEMETRIUS: That’s so retro – I love it.
SHARON: Well, the fact that all the pages have been hand-torn, photographed and then uploaded to give it an authentic, self-published feel make it more than just a website devoted to the appreciation of new jack swing and 90s club culture.
BOBBY J: And have I heard correctly? You’re only using promoted tweets to drive people to your site?
SHARON: It’s all I need. My click-through rate is 90 per cent.
BOBBY J: Fuck.
SHARON: Next month I’m hoping to stream video on the site. But it will be VHS video – with all of its imperfections. I’m having it converted.
DEMETRIUS: God, your parents must be really proud.
For some inexplicable reason, Demetrius’ words wrong-foot Sharon. She becomes aware of a feeling of pervasive emptiness inside but still she forces a smile and takes the compliment all the same. Then the room starts to spin and she excuses herself to go and freshen up. No sooner does she find herself in the stalls than she is on the floor, arms around the toilet bowl, alternating between fits of violent vomiting and weeping.
The walls around her fade into darkness and a lone figure steps forward out of the black. It’s a woman wearing yoga pants and a “Namaste Bitches” t-shirt. Sharon notices that her skin is covered in red splotches and she has a vestigial tail poking out of the back of her lycra leggings. As she comes into full view, the red in her face deepens, her tail grows and two horns protrude from the crown of her head. The red-faced woman hands her a hand towel made from the finest Egyptian cotton as Sharon realises she is standing face-to-face with Satan.
SATAN: What seems to be the problem, dear?
Sharon dabs her face and looks Satan up and down. She hesitates to speak, but the desire to talk about herself supersedes any concerns she might have about oversharing with God’s primary opponent.
SHARON: I’ve got a great career. I’m earning money as an influencer while growing a dedicated fanbase who celebrate my lifestyle choices through perfunctory gestures like tapping the heart icons next to my postings … and yet for some reason it doesn’t feel like enough.
The Devil cackles to herself and casually swings her tail.
SATAN: I’m not surprised. The metrics by which humans once measured personal achievement have changed. The corporate ladder has splintered. There is no longer a race to the top. With the dawn of the internet came a maker culture, which enabled anyone to achieve success without it having to be at the expense of someone else. But this left a void. People need to feel better than other people.
Sharon vomits again.
SATAN: What if I told you that you could experience all those feelings of validation and positive reinforcement again but through an alternative vehicle?
SHARON: I… I’d give anything.
SATAN: Anything?
Sharon nods.
The fires of hell rage behind the devil and illuminate a spin class where attractive young professionals are queuing up to work out in what looks like a positive, friendly environment.
SATAN: Sharon, I give you… Soul Cycle.
SHARON: Soul Cycle?
SATAN: At face value it’s a group workout on stationary bikes. It’s billed as a powerful mind-body experience partaken of in candlelit studios, administered by supportive instructors, but in actual fact it is a brutally competitive exercise regime that establishes a new social order based around athletic prowess, physical beauty and perceived spirituality. From picking a locker to securing a space in a popular class, judgement is passed on you at every brand touchpoint.
Sharon’s lips quiver with excitement and she barely manages to get her tongue around the next sentence.
SHARON: And are there cliques?
SATAN: Of course there are cliques.
The Devil shrieks with laughter and holds up a new joiner’s contract in one hand and a feathered quill in the other. Sharon reaches for the writing implement and the Devil stabs her in the arm, drawing blood. Sharon winces slightly, but with a surprising amount of conviction takes the dripping quill and signs away.
In a flash we cut to a montage of Sharon in full Soul Cycle swing. We see her taking class after class, starting as a beginner but working her way up the pecking order. She buys Soul Cyclebranded clothing, candles and gel packs. We watch her ascent as she curries favour with instructors and other popular members of the exercise community. She becomes fitter, more popular and ultimately, happier. It overtakes her life to the point that she splinters off from her old friendship circle, shuts down her online zine and even disengages from all social media that’s unrelated to her new workout regimen.
Finally, having reached the top of the high-intensity cardio food chain – a spin class celebrity in her own right – she partakes of a punishing 90-minute session. At the 89-minute mark, having bested everyone with 60 seconds left to go, everything goes black.
When she comes to, Sharon is back in a Soul Cycle class, still pedalling. She’s a little confused at first, but when she turns to her right she sees the Devil on a bike next to her.
SATAN: Hello Sharon.
Sharon shushes her because it’s against the rules to talk in a Soul Cycle class, but the Devil assures her that in this case it’s okay.
SHARON: What are you doing here?
This class is booked up days in advance.
SATAN: You’ve suffered a massive coronary, Sharon. And I’ve come to collect your debt. Welcome to the afterlife.
Sharon looks around the room. It’s just a normal spin class. Candlelit. Thumping music. Instructor calling out messages of positivity. She laughs to herself.
SHARON: This is death? This is Hell? It’s just another spin class. There’s nothing bad about this. In fact it’s wonderful.
Her laughter grows in both volume and intensity.
SHARON: I’ve won! I beat the Devil! Just then the instructor calls out.
INSTRUCTOR: Great form, Julie!
Followed by:
INSTRUCTOR: Love your energy, Michael!
One after another, the instructor starts heaping praise on every single person taking the class, pointing out their individual merits. When she finally makes it through all 20 people in the room, she calls out:
INSTRUCTOR: Each of you is special in your own right. There aren’t any winners here at Soul Cycle. None of us is as good as all of us!
Sharon’s eyes widen and her face twists and contorts. The horror is so complete that when she cries out, stretching her mouth as wide as it can go until her lips crack and bleed, all she is able to emit is a mute scream.
TAGLINE: Soul Cycle. 20 percent off for new joiners.
“In fact it’s a brutally competitive exercise regime that establishes a new social order based around athletic prowess, physical beauty and perceived spirituality.” S
Young South African artist Tsoku Maela used beautiful, emotionally raw photographs to tell the story of his mental health struggles with naked honesty. Their success means the observer has become the observed and this rising star of the photographic arts must now learn to love the attention and, most importantly, finds Selena Schleh, love himself
In the beautiful, surreal and melancholic images of South African photographer Tsoku Maela, people hide from the world. Heads are obscured by plumes of smoke or swathed in bandages; in one striking image, a man is captured in the act of painting his face, literally whitewashing himself out of the frame. Maela only burst onto the global scene last year with the series Abstract Peaces, inspired by his struggle with depression and, for a young photographer unused to the spotlight, exposing these intensely personal issues to the glare of public scrutiny doesn’t come easily, it seems. “I’m more of a wallflower, a people watcher – people shouldn’t know I’m there,” is how the artist describes his approach.
He has always been a keen observer, but those observations were initially expressed through poetry. He bought his first camera while studying for a BA in motion picture at Cape Town’s AFDA, majoring in screenwriting, but was put off by the technicalities (“camera people speak a funny language”) and didn’t pick it up again until three years later, when a mysterious – and to this day still unexplained –medical condition landed him in hospital. “My time in there proved
p70 Abstract Peaces, Auxin
1 Broken Things, Family Portrait
2 Abstract Peaces, Rediscover, Not Recreate
3 Barongwa, The Mothers
“I realised that what can be written could be photographed.”
to be pivotal,” he remembers. “I questioned myself every day: my purpose, the ways to spread the stories I wanted to share so badly with the world.”
Leaving hospital “broke and friendless”, he took his first selfportrait – “me, looking into the light, resting, peaceful” – and has been shooting every day since: “I realised that what can be written could be photographed.”
One of the first stories Maela chose to tell with his camera was
his lonely struggle with anxiety and depression. Growing up in the small township of Lebowakgomo, Maela found it impossible to open up to his parents – a policeman and a teacher – due to the cultural stigma surrounding mental health in South Africa. Instead, he decided to represent the battle between himself and his mind visually. The result was the surreal, metaphorical photo series Abstract Peaces, in which Maela is besieged by circling sharks and umbrellas falling from the sky.
A personally cathartic process
(“I’m grateful for art as rehabilitation. Medication just left me numb.”)
Abstract Peaces also struck a chord with African communities around the world. Thousands of empathetic messages poured in after Maela shared the images on Tumblr. One man, intent on suicide, changed his mind after seeing the image Rage. Regret. Return But becoming a poster boy for mental health brought challenges for the photographer. “For the first time
in my life, I felt like people were actually looking at me or in my direction, which sort of disrupts my wallflower approach. I can’t really make art when I know it has a high chance of becoming significant for someone else,” he says. “It’s almost as if people were expecting me to be the voice [of the issue], yet I understood very little about mental health. I tried to be there for everyone and that almost ended up being a disaster. I was tired half the time, not being creative, not present in my own
space. My activism became a performance.” In the end, he had to “distance myself from it and focus on creating awareness in other ways”.
Whatever the downsides of a higher global profile, Maela feels that the rise of social media and digital platforms are helping African creatives to tell their own stories, rather than have them hijacked and presented through a Western lens.
Another project, Broken Things, is the story of a couple who come to accept each other’s so-called flaws, and even their own. Her cataractclouded eye turns clear; the bandages covering his face disappear. “Selflove is not as easy as it sounds,” Maela muses. “It’s a form of protest, especially for the black body that has been criminalised, ostracised and stigmatised in our society. Self-hate is embedded deep in our psyche. So self-love becomes an act of rebellion.”
Asked about his own journey towards self-acceptance, Maela
1 Abstract Peaces, Seriti
2 Abstract Peaces, Rage. Regret. Return.
“The city [Johannesburg] is my gallery and it’s accessible to everyone.”
describes it as “a revolution that requires me to learn every day.” And he’s starting to notice the difference in his approach to work.
His first residency project (at Cape Town’s Amplify Studios), Be Glad U R Free, is a mixed-media series taking a contemporary look at the concept of freedom. “I’ve always had the goal of telling a story seamlessly across different media,” Maela says of the series, which spans a photo album, a black-and-white film and audio files presented on a cassette. The project asks what it is that makes people free – a concept that, according to Maela, few of us have time to interrogate
while slaving away behind a desk so we can pay bills and taxes.
Having recently moved to Johannesburg, Maela finds it a better fit for his self-confessed problem with authority and “straight lines” than the country’s legislative capital. “There’s just so much more texture here. Cape Town is smooth and cordial; everything is politically correct. The streets are clean. The air is light. The art is minimal and abstract. Johannesburg is rough and rugged, and so is the art. It’s raw, it’s charged, it’s angry. It’s informed and ready to challenge all preconceived notions. The city is my gallery and it’s accessible to everyone.”
Olivia Atkins finds in South Africa a beautiful, energetic nation coping with chaos
Some change happens slowly in South Africa; apartheid casts long shadows and equality issues persist. This, along with economic and political woes, might cast a gloomy outlook. Yet a country used to upheaval is possibly best placed to cope with the changes facing adland in general. The Rand may be weak, but new, creative voices seeking evolution are strong – the future could be sunny after all
Change is a fundamental and inevitable part of any industry, but few have had to deal with as much change as the South African advertising scene in recent years. It has been 23 years since apartheid ended in the country, and the political and economic situation has been uncertain ever since. On top of this, as elsewhere in the world, the local industry is restructuring to meet the modern demands of smaller budgets, shorter deadlines and more varied platforms.
Some of the resulting reforms have been positive. The closure of South Africa’s largest production company, Velocity Films, earlier this year has spurred the launch of various new projects (see boxout on page 51) and impacted
the local production scene, paving the way for new shops to open.
Equality-promoting initiatives, such as Free The Bid and Open Chair (see boxout page 50), have also emerged to tackle age-old issues around race and gender. However, despite these positive developments in the industry’s employment and working practices, creative output is still challenged, possibly due to the country’s enduring political and economic instability. There is little faith in the country’s president, Jacob Zuma –his leadership of the ANC is up for election in December. Plus, with the Rand still weak and the economy possibly facing a return to recession, the situation is promoting pessimism among
long-time denizens of the industry. But there are new, more optimistic voices emerging, and hopefully young blood can lead the charge towards restoring global and national faith in South Africa’s creativity.
“It’s a matter of agencies being more agile… We’ve had all this crazy stuff going on for years so let’s just get on with it.”
South Africa won a total of 26 Lions at Cannes 2017, which included three Grands Prix in Radio, historically its strongest medium. FCB’s creative director, Open Chair ambassador and Loeries chairperson, Suhana Gordhan, sees this result as telling in terms of what’s going on internally: “As a country, we’re struggling to find our voice. The country is going through changes and the work is a reflection of where we are. Our industry is in a bit of a crisis because we’re under pressure, our budgets are being cut and we still have to produce work on demand. We’re all holding on tightly and trying to make our day-to-day work, while also creating pieces that stand out and cut through to who we are. That’s the daily struggle: trying to find our voices in a way that’s authentic and that people can look up to again.”
A number of factors have forced the industry to evolve: smaller budgets and tighter deadlines, plus developments in digital and improved internet speeds. “The shift to more online content has happened and we’re [already] doing it, whereas two years ago, we were [just] anticipating it,” says Giant Films co-founder/ managing partner Cindy Gabriel.
Sharing a similar time zone with Europe and with English as the dominant language in the media, South Africa could become a viable competitor with Europe; it just needs a boost of self-confidence. “We have to realise that we can do great work now for much less money,” says Groundglass founder/EP Janette de Villiers.
“We don’t need a lot of gear and a big crew to
1 Kid Crème, The Boy in the Picture
2/3/4 Absolut, One Source
5/6 adidas Originals, Original is Never Finished
7 Opera Mini, Oh
pull o clever ideas and I hate people moaning about budgets. We need to come up with ideas that don’t cost the Earth. Some of the best work I’ve seen has been made on the sni of an oily rag; it’s a matter of agencies and production companies being more agile, getting over having to work old-school. We’ve had all this crazy stu going on for years, so [let’s] just get on with it.”
So what’s holding South Africa back? Grey Africa’s CCO, Fran Luckin, notes, “The political uncertainty with regard to the presidential succession is making a lot of clients nervous about investing. Many clients are sitting on their budgets waiting to see what happens at the ANC’s December conference, where the next party leader will be elected.”
However, Ryan McManus, ECD at Native VML, thinks clients shouldn’t be blamed – it’s creatives who need to be bolder. “We’re not experimenting enough as an industry,” he says. “There’s a lot of work being decided by the guys on the financial side, but it’s the creatively-led clients that do better.” Native VML’s all-encompassing work for Absolut is a good example of new ways of working and suggests what the future could look like. The agency adopted a 3600 approach to the vodka brand’s One Source campaign in 2016, and its recently-launched follow-up, One Source Live, creating a music video, documentary series and EP, defying the traditional TVC format. This ambitious approach paid o , earning them gold and silver Lions for Entertainment; a silver in Entertainment for Music; and a bronze Media Lion. “We have to scrap for opportunities to make them work,” says McManus. “There’s so much talent, so many great locations for shooting and amazing African stories that nobody’s telling. We need to tap into that as much as possible to
“The daily struggle… trying to find our voices in a way that’s authentic and that people can look up to again.”
tell stories that are really from here… Brands should be playing a far bigger role. Maybe I’m impatient but [advertising here] feels quite slow to change. Being part of a [global] network, you see what the guys are doing elsewhere and how the market is moving. As creatives in the industry, we should be driving that change, not plugging into the back of it.”
“There’s this perception if you’re black you’re not good. It’s about slowly breaking that down, one award at a time.”
With change comes hope, and in 2017 various initiatives were introduced to South Africa to readdress imbalance across gender and race. While the focus has traditionally remained on racial inequality in South Africa – inevitable considering its apartheid history – this year the local advertising industry seems to be pushing issues of gender diversity. It’s still too early to tell just how e ective these ventures will be, but it’s a start and a move in the right direction.
In celebration of its first year as a worldwide female-empowerment initiative, Free The Bid – its mandate to see one woman included in every three pitches – is in the process of setting up in South Africa. Having garnered support from Monkey Films director Leigh Ogilvie, who’s acting as the nation’s Free The Bid ambassador, the South African arm will bring more local women directors to the attention of agencies. It will take time to roll out, but there does seem to be an appetite for encouraging female filmmakers through the ranks. Although Ogilvie thinks that perhaps a slight alteration of the pledge might be required
to make it locally relevant. “Even with the implementation of the BEE policy, it is taking a while to [achieve racial equality in South Africa], having made modest gains, the number [of racially-diverse creatives] within agencies and production houses is still low,” says Ogilvie. “Growing any minority or disadvantaged group within a racially-challenged and gender-biased industry requires committed investment. For this to happen, the culture within agencies and production houses, regarding how they select or champion a director, needs to change, which seems a little tricky to accommodate fairly in a three-way bid, particularly if you add representation of women to the mix – regardless of race.” Furthermore, equality has historically rested on racial diversity, but as Ogilvie says, “We may as well address all areas of diversity, while we’re at it.”
A South African mentorship scheme running quarterly events, Open Chair launched in August 2017 in partnership with the African and Middle Eastern awards show, The Loeries. Structured like a speed-dating, networking forum, it enables young female creatives to
Those changing the landscape locally with fresh ideas are gaining the most respect. Design agency TBWA/GRID is continually heralded; CCO Nathan Reddy was named Loeries Creative Hall of Fame inductee 2017 following the company’s redesign of Johannesburg restaurant, Marble. The Meat Made Luxury revamp created an integrated aesthetic for the brand, with notable attention to detail, such as sweets for the bar countertops that looked like real marbles.
One area where change could speed up is the tackling of gender and racial diversity in employment. Quota schemes like Black Economic Empowerment (BEE) have been in place for almost 15 years, however many South Africans, like FORT CEO Shukri Toefy, believe “they exist [only] to level the playing fields, economicallyspeaking.” The independently-owned content agency is doing its best to challenge and disrupt the traditional advertising model, by o ering
connect with women in more senior positions – o ering them the space to ask questions and seek advice and mentorship in their careers.
FCB’s creative director Suhana Gordhan co-founded the programme after she assumed the two-year post of Loeries chairperson. “When I took on this role, I decided to use the position to also stand for something,” she says. “During my appointment, I spoke about the role of transformation around women and race. I wanted to put a focus on young women in the industry as they’re not often brought up to the right leadership levels and there’s no connection between them and senior leaders.”
Gordhan brought on board TBWA\Hunt\ Lascaris ECD, Jenny Glover, and Molo Sana Films EP/founder, Simoné Bosman, knowing they shared her vision and would help to elevate the campaign. “In South Africa, white women are slightly better represented in leadership than they are in the rest of the world,” says Grey Africa’s CCO, Fran Luckin. “But we need to recognise and empower more black female creative leaders. There’s no shortage of awesomely talented women out there; we just need to ensure they get the kind of mentorship and support that we all had coming up.”
“It felt like the best time for both of us to regroup and to start something small: to try and build something with a new focus and new set of objectives.”
sti competition with their diverse perspective and commitment to racial equality.
Quotas may get more talent through the door, incentivising agencies with access to higher tier clients, but they have their faults. “BEE quotas are e ective if structured and executed properly with the mindset of genuinely empowering and not just engaging on a superficial level,” says Nosipho Maketo van den Bragt, owner and MD of VFX house, Chocolate Tribe. However, this requires infrastructural investment and a genuine understanding of the value that black talent will bring – something that has been lacking.
Quotas alone won’t help, attitudes need to change, too. “There’s this perception that if you’re black, you’re not good,” says Toefy. “It’s about slowly breaking that down one award at a time.” You need to develop black talent before you can hire it, and agencies are now partnering with schools or, like FORT, o ering their own in-house training, to balance out the racial skill gap. FORT also o ers a profit-share scheme to incentivise young talent to join the company.
But there are other obstacles; despite the death of apartheid, many black people still live out in the townships. “Hiring a black person is much harder,” says FORT co-CCO Amr Singh. “Most of the time, they need to take public transport. We don’t have a tube system in South Africa, so some people have to wake up at 4.30am to get in for 9am. And there’s no night bus, so it means Uber-ing them home, which will cost you. Whereas a white worker might have a car and can drive home at 11pm when the work’s done.”
In a market made up of networks, cushioned by their global counterparts, the odds seem stacked against start-up creators, yet it’s exactly their fresh, forward-thinking approaches that the nation’s advertising industry needs right now. As the old adage goes, “Old ways won’t open new doors.” Changes are necessary and, for South Africa, hopefully they will be for the best. As Giant Films director Sam Coleman puts it, “South Africa feels like it’s constantly teetering on the brink of chaos.” It’s all about learning to enjoy the ride.
When South Africa’s largest production company, Velocity, closed its doors in early 2017, it left something of a void in the country’s commercial production scene. But in August a new contender emerged: bringing together two of South Africa’s top directors, Greg Gray (formerly of Velocity) and Terence Neale (ex-Egg Films), with their respective producers, Helena Woodfine and Rozanne Rocha-Gray, Romance bills itself as a “leaner, more intuitive approach to production – a tight-knit family of passionate filmmakers and creative producers”. Below, Gray tells us more about how he came to embark on this amorous adventure.
How did Romance come into being?
Terence [Neale] and I have known each other for many years, vicariously and socially, through [my wife] Rozanne, who’s been his producer all that time. We get on well. We both have a respect for each other as friends and as filmmakers. We went for a coffee one day and I got a sense from him that he was feeling a little bit stifled, frustrated maybe. And I was feeling the same. It felt like it was time for both Terence and I to get out of what felt like very, very big machines, where as much as you may have influence in the work that you do, it never really feels like it’s part of your own vision or structure. It felt like the best time for both of us to regroup and to start something small: to try and build something with a new focus and new set of objectives.
You were signed to Velocity for 17 years. What did you learn from that experience that you’ve brought to the new venture? I suppose the only lesson was to make sure that we keep the company at a size that still feels like it’s personal and it doesn’t just become a monolithic machine. My time at Velocity was fantastic, and I have no regrets. There are no negatives that I’ve been able to draw on with regards to what we do at Romance – except to not let it get carried away and become a company run by financials.
Those big [production] companies become machines and you have to keep feeding the machine. So, they tend to have people take on work because they need to keep the company going, and the bigger a company gets, the more top-heavy it becomes and the bigger the administration department, the more expensive it is to run and the more money that you need to make to fuel it.
It’s nice to be out of that equation and to be able to look at work and decide whether or not to do it purely on the merits of the work and whether it appeals to you, and sits with the company’s ethos or not.
Your directing aesthetic is cinematic and emotional, while Terence’s is more visually striking. Was it a case of opposites attracting?
Terence and I complement each other, because we have different styles and different visions and intentions with regards to the work that we like doing. That’s often the problem in a lot of companies: everyone’s chasing after the same work. So, even though we are both at the top of our game we aren’t really competing against each other, but we both have the same kind of ethos in mind and that is to do interesting, creative work. It’s our intention, when we are both around in the office, to collaborate on scripts that come in, regardless of which one takes it, because I think we both have strengths that we can offer each other.
What inspired the name of the company?
It just felt like a fun name that rolls off the tongue easily, and I suppose it is the idea of the romance behind filmmaking and our love for it. It wasn’t referring to a particular romance… despite the fact Rozanne and I are married.
Currently Romance numbers just four people. How do you plan to grow the business?
At the moment, the intention is just to try and keep it as small and bespoke as we can. It’s quite a process setting up a business –especially in South Africa – as there are a lot of hoops to jump through. We’ve been approached already by a number of directors wanting to join us, but we are just wanting to find our feet first.
Do you have any exciting projects in the pipeline for 2018?
I was in the middle of a job when we launched and we’ve done two since then. We’ve been pretty busy over the past few months: Terence has been in London shooting for Hugo Boss and now he’s gone off to LA for a Beats job.
Jabu Nadia Newman never anticipated how her web series The Foxy Five would turn her fortunes. But media success isn’t about to turn her head – a career without meaning is of no interest to this 23-year-old, politically-motivated filmmaker. And, in a post-Weinstein, #metoo world, she senses the time is just right for a female director to encourage brands to really embrace gender equality
Thanks to powerful work that documents the experiences of South African women and seeks to represent those normally under-represented in the media, Cape Town native Jabu Nadia Newman is gradually becoming recognised as a leading feminist voice in the country. When her web series, The Foxy Five, broke onto the scene in 2015, it was picked up by global press outlets and propelled her onto the international stage, resulting in a signing by production company Groundglass. She’s just decided to do a second series of the show instead of returning to university to finish her degree in film, media and politics.
Newman recognises that initiatives such as Free the Bid, which was adopted in South Africa earlier this year, are helping to e ect change in terms of equality in the industry. “Because of the internet, [audiences are] smarter,” she says, “so there’s a lot more calling out of adverts that are problematic or don’t represent women well. It’s alarming that there are not more women creating ads, especially those targeting a female audience. Women are still generally perceived as the wife or the girlfriend; the mother or the caretaker,” she observes. “The most controversial way of showing a woman on-air is in the workplace.”
She’s aware that, as a newcomer, speaking out on gender could be risky, but she’s determined to have her say nonetheless. “There’s space to create work that is politicised and conscientious [and that sells],” says Newman. “It’s important to start bridging that gap and start having conversations with brands to make them aware that their audiences are a lot cleverer and more politicised than they think. Adverts [need to] acknowledge what their audience is dealing with on a political and personal level. Audiences are also analysing ads more and figuring out what they’re trying to say – they want to be respected and challenged.” For Newman, everything relates to politics – it’s
political not to comment. She believes brands need to be aware that consumers are demanding change and even seeking out politically-charged ads.
Her outlook is no surprise: her unionsupporting parents encouraged her interest in politics. They also encouraged her to be artistic as a child, but didn’t expect her to make a career out of it. “My parents wanted me to be expressive [artistically] but the main focus was politics,” she says. “The first course I did at university was even chosen by my dad!” She started studying film alongside politics, after ending up as an assistant on a university project that challenged students to make a film in just 48 hours. Despite the lack of sleep, the project made her realise this was what she wanted to do with her life.
Convincing her parents wasn’t so easy. “My Dad watches The Foxy Five and he loves that it’s political but it’s di cult [for him] to understand what a filmmaker does.” He needn’t worry that his daughter will lose her ideals. “Politics has always been a theme [for me] and always will be,” she says. “It’s important for filmmakers, particularly young ones, to be documenting what people are experiencing now.” As a girlpower-championing series, The Foxy Five resonates with the #metoo generation. The first episode sees the characters speaking out against sexual harassment.
Newman started writing The Foxy Five as a response to #FeesMustFall, the student-led protest that spread through major South African universities in 2015. She took a year o from university to devote herself to the project and hasn’t looked back since. “I [wanted to] convey these di cult political concepts to people who weren’t studying, so that they could understand. Before, there were a lot of conversations about how apathetic the youth was, but I was keen to
she’s honing her skills as she goes along.
show that young people were actually talking about things that maybe even our parents weren’t able to speak about.” In 2016, she released a fashion film, Dirty Laundry, which revealed her flair for surreal comedy and was “a big inspiration for The Foxy Five. By putting out that film, I realised how happy people were to see three black women on screen kicking ass, not related to a man.” The short is about three female friends who seek revenge on a predatory diner owner after the justice system fails them. With its 70s style and Charlie’s Angels aesthetic, it’s similar in style to The Foxy Five, albeit less polished; proof that she’s honing her skills as she goes along.
With a handful of films on her reel, Newman identifies as an emerging director and says her sassy, fashion-forward style originates from her early days photographing friends and attempting to capture their colourful personalities. She continues to experiment creatively with pals and likes to have them on set.
Most of the actors and production crew on the web series have been female – a rare feat in a male-dominated industry, but something she will continue with: “To authentically tell the [Foxy Five] story we needed to have women’s perspectives for shooting, lighting and editing.”
Looking forward, Newman has a clear focus –the series has been touring regionally and internationally at various queer and LGBT screenings, so she’s conscious that she should be writing new episodes and planning ahead. She’s assisting on small productions with friends to gain as much experience as she can and is not ruling out returning to her studies in the future. One thing’s for certain, Newman is intent on being provocative and wants her work to open a discourse between the young and the old, directors and their audiences, and brands and their consumers. S
Until recently an emerging hip-hop director, Kyle Lewis is now getting top brands, from Nike to VW, seeking out his bold, Africanyouth-culture-friendly style. This year alone he’s scooped nine Loeries and a Cannes nomination. The secret to his success? Friends, and not just the analogue ones he likes to work with; virtual connections made on Facebook also boosted his rise to glory
Many successful directors struggle to get the balance right between work and seeing friends and family. But Kyle Lewis has worked out a system. “I always try and get my friends involved in what I do because then, for me, it doesn’t feel like work, it just becomes my life,” he says. Bringing friends on set means Lewis gets to catch up with them, share what he’s working on and invite them into his creative process.
I meet the Egg Films director and his crew at the production company’s Loeries party. It’s more like a group of friends than a workforce and although he’s a very hands-on director – locationscouting and designing sets himself – Lewis trusts and is inspired by his friends’ suggestions, o ering them the freedom to create. He is also very loyal to them. “If the client doesn’t believe that they’re good enough, I don’t care,” he says. “It’s either my way or you don’t work with me.”
He enthuses about Happy Umurerwa, his model and muse, who’s featured in most of his work and who now sometimes collaborates with him for free, as he’s one of the few directors who’ll push her creatively. She is part of his core team, together with his brother and producer, Will Nicholson. His mother has also supported him from the start, running his finances in the early days.
Pursuit of digital friends has also boosted his fortunes. A while back he looked up his favourite promo directors on Facebook to see who they were signed to and made 50 friend requests. “Martin Roker from Black Dog [in the UK] was apparently looking at my work the day before, so immediately called me up to sign me. Sometimes you just have to put yourself out there!” In South Africa, he’s now repped by Arcade Content for brand films and promos, and by Egg Films for commercials.
In 2010, he launched his own production company, Dirty Soul Productions, as he was keen to spend time developing his own style. His early
says. For the 2014 promo he conceived and
work is a far cry from his more recent set-heavy, stylistic promos. He shot his first music video aged 20, while at Cape Town’s AFDA Film School, when rappers LOCNVILLE approached him to direct a promo for their track didn’t think the brief suited him, he accepted the challenge to make a promo for the equivalent of £100. The song became a hit in South Africa and beyond and the video earned more than a million YouTube views, paving the way for Lewis to become a hip-hop director. “I’m very grateful and humbled to be accepted into the hip-hop community, particularly as a white filmmaker,” he says. For the 2014 promo he conceived and directed for Tumi, In Defense of My Art, the director’s signature style is evident: the monochrome spot has an open narrative, abstract artistic references and is rich in symbolism. “I like creating work where audiences have to work to understand it; not so on-the-nose stu .”
Sun in My Pocket. Though he didn’t think the brief suited him, he accepted the challenge to make a promo for the equivalent of
Now that he has honed his style in music videos, Lewis relishes being able to use it in his work for brands and always seeks as much creative control as possible. For example, for Nike’s Unlimited Fight spot he “got to conceptualise with the agency. They didn’t just want me to do the video.” He had complete concept control for his campaign for financial services provider Sanlam, Mr Madumane (Big , where he followed a trend he’s noticed – disguising ads as music videos. Starring hip-hop artist Cassper Nyovest, the spot encourages South Africans to live within their means, so the agency asked Lewis to shoot a
Home is Cape Town’s Table View, a picturesque, conservative town where being creative wasn’t encouraged when he was growing up. Lewis was the black sheep of Table View; putting on one-act plays that he’d write and direct in high school. His love of film came from watching “agerestriction” movies on Friday nights with his dad and brother. The slasher flick Scream was an obsession, along with Jurassic Park. He has developed a love of creating other-worldly environments and focussing on set design and props, as can be seen in one of his most recent promos – his first since joining Black Dog this year – Boy in the Picture for Kid Crème. Here a young boy retrieves stu ed animals from a dump and houses them in a self-made teddy kingdom. The promo reveals Lewis’ rigorous attention to craft and is a paean to a child’s imagination.
promo with recycled props that mocked materialism. It garnered great acclaim from the public and the industry – securing four gongs at the Loeries (one gold, two silvers and a bronze) and a Grand Prix at the African Cristal festival. Lewis still battles with getting the budget he’d like to fund his ideas. “When I’m conceptualising, my brain can go very far,” he says, “but the job is always money dependent.” Which is why when he reflects on his portfolio of work, he’s never fully satisfied. A perfectionist, he can always see room for improvement.
So what’s next for Lewis? Like many commercials directors, he would love to do a feature film one day, but feels he is not quite ready just yet – having only recently moved into advertising. He would love to fulfil a boyhood dream to create a promo for his idol, Kylie Minogue. It might seem like a far cry from his current reputation as a hip-hop man, but he loves her e ortless and understated style, which he describes as “not overtly sexy”. This dream might come true sooner than he thinks, as he’s just polished o a promo for The Saturdays starlet, Mollie King, who happens to work with a lot of the same crew as the Aussie diva. So, Kylie, if you’re reading this, give Mr Lewis a call. S
“I always try and get my friends involved in what I do because then, for me, it doesn’t feel like work, it just becomes my life.”
South African surf brand Mami Wata is named after a shape-changing water deity that will either drown you or change your life for the better. The young company takes similar random risks with its creative, with happy results. Award-winning debut spot, Woza, wows with a visceral energy, its star representing the diverse style and spirit of both the brand and the local surfing community
Blame the surf industry for pumping out images of fair-skinned and preppy-looking surfers.
Andy Davis, co-founder of South African surf brand Mami Wata, assures us that you’ll find a much more diverse story on his country’s beaches, yet this di erence is not represented in the industry’s advertising. Which is why the brand’s debut spot, Woza, which aired in 2017, consciously challenged stereotypes with rising surf star Avuyile Ndamase as brand ambassador. “Having a black surfer was crucial to telling the story of African surfing,” says Davis. And presenting the African surf identity was integral to the campaign, which also tried to shine a more positive spotlight on a country plagued by bad press. “The stories … that come out of Africa are so negative and so destructive, so full of fear,” says Davis. “Sometimes the good things are forgotten: like our unspoilt natural environment.”
But Woza doesn’t just have a strong message to convey, it is also strongly crafted, earning – among many accolades – a silver YDA and a bronze Lion for Film Craft (Direction) at this year’s Cannes Lions festival.
Headquartered in Cape Town, Mami Wata was founded by Davis, Nick Dutton and Peet Pienaar, a team that combines widely di ering skillsets, to create a strategically robust brand. They do, however, have some things in common, according to Davis, having all come to Mami Wata late in their careers after going through the school of hard knocks, learning from their failures as much as their successes.
Davis, who is based in Durban, was the matchmaker of the trio, introducing Pienaar (stationed in Mexico City) to Dutton, an ex-ad man with stints at Grey London, AMV BBDO and Arnold on his CV. Davis’s background is in editorial, writing for various surf and political magazines. Davis and Dutton, pals from
Mami and admired his “wild creative spirit” and “uninfluenceable” style. “He’s very avant-garde and
university, started brainstorming the idea for Mami Wata – fuelled by their love of surf and Africa – two years ago. They brought Pienaar on board as the brand’s creative director. Davis had worked with the designer at various magazines and admired his “wild creative spirit” and “uninfluenceable” style. “He’s very avant-garde and very African,” says Davis; perfect for setting the brand’s aesthetic.
Mother of the brand
Mami Wata is the name of an African water deity, a mermaid-like creature whose name literally translates to “Mother Water”, and who appears in tales told by West African seafarers and fishermen. “If you’re fishing in a storm, you would pray to Mami Wata to look after you,” says Davis. “She can be good and bad. She could drown you and take you as her lover – because she’s got a strong female energy that you can’t fight. But if she looks after you and she’s benevolent to you and you survive, you come back more spiritually connected, more successful and better looking. There’s this idea that if Mami Wata takes you, life gets better.”
Playing with this fabulous tale forms the basis of the brand’s creativity, as seen in a short story (illustrated with a brand photoshoot) in South African creative culture magazine The Lake, and the brand’s regular newsletter, Them Say Them Say, as well as in Woza. Pienaar conceptualised and art-directed the spot, sourcing the props, arranging the fixers and compiling the research. He assimilated a huge amount of content and many of those involved were willing to participate “out of love for Peet and his creative vision”, says Davis. “Many refused payment. They preferred us to put our budget into flight tickets and camera equipment instead, to pull the production together.”
Pato Martinez and Francisco Canton, part of Argentinian directing collective Pantera, shot the spot in Durban and Mozambique, inspired by what they saw, rather than sticking to a strict brief. Pienaar was very particular about using non-South African filmmakers who had never been to the country and weren’t surf directors, in order to capture an outsider’s perspective. Pienaar was impressed by the directing duo’s fearlessness and curiosity: “When they are running around with cameras and stu , there’s no fear. They were willing to get into racing cars and stand in front of dangerous situations to shoot, which is incredible. Sometimes you get directors who are
incredible. Sometimes you get directors who are quite scared and overly careful and don’t really give it 100 per cent. For me, getting these incredible shots was very important.”
Although recognition brings with it a certain creative pressure, Pienaar is confident about the brand’s future and is already planning the next spot. “Our next film is about diamond divers in Namibia who also surf – they dive for diamonds all day and they surf in their time o . Fundamentally it’s a story about people trying to find money and fulfil their dreams. Surfing is the calm in the chaos of lost dreams.”
Set in the desert, the spot sounds mythical and surreal, almost dream-like. It’s a world apart from the usual fare from their competitors. But then, compared to other surf brands with their California-inspired beachwear, Mami Wata prides itself on a very di erent look: primary colours and bold patterns, tapping into the style and spirit of the local surf community.
As Mami Wata looks for investment to allow the brand to evolve further, Davis quotes Pliny the Elder, “There’s always something new coming out of Africa,” implying that there’s no end to the sources of inspiration for this ground- (or should that be wave?) breaking brand. S
“If you’re fishing in a storm, you would pray to Mami Wata to look after you. She can be good and bad. She could drown you and take you as her lover – because she’s got a strong female energy that you can’t fight.”
What’s the best thing about working in advertising in Johannesburg?
Our turnaround for work is really fast. Big ideas can be originated in the morning and produced by the afternoon. Where some of our international counterparts would take months to produce a TV ad, we can do it in a matter of weeks if put under pressure, and this is a very pressurised place to work.
And the worst thing?
Some clients see agencies more as service providers than communication partners, which can result in poorer work.
What advice would you give to a visitor?
Do everything, see everything, try everything. We are such an unbelievably diverse and rich melting pot of cultures and tastes and adventures.
If you come here and just sit in a hotel and go to a few shopping malls, you’ll miss out on an experience you’d carry with you for a lifetime.
Mick Blore, CCO for McCann Worldgroup South and SubSaharan Africa, enthuses about the creature comforts, and creatures, both wild and edible, available in SA’s City of Gold – Johannesburg
If you were booking a hotel in Johannesburg, where would you stay?
Like any other major city, we’ve got some amazing, world-class hotels in Johannesburg, so if you’re looking for the height of luxury, we have you covered. Or, with regard to my last answer, you could try something different.
Misty Hills Country Hotel sits on the outskirts of the city and offers all the creature comforts along with a few creatures, too.
By which I mean nearby safari tours, the lion and rhino nature reserve and more. You could also visit the [paleoanthropological site] Cradle of Humankind and the nearby Carnivore Restaurant, where you can taste anything from kudu [antelope] to crocodile.
What do you miss when you are out of the city?
We like getting out for the peace and tranquillity of the bush, but one does miss the urban pace and vibe – once you’re out of the city for a break, you look forward to going back before long.
One table, four places. You and who?
Morgan Freeman. Sir Anthony Hopkins. John Keats. I’ve already had the honour of dining with the late Nelson Mandela or he would have been the first one on my list.
What is the best South African ad you have seen in the last year?
A charming ad for VW, For the Love of Drive [O&M Cape Town], about a cute little girl singing a song [Are You Gonna Go My Way?] that’s stuck in her head. The reveal is that she and her dad have a special song they always listen to on the car’s fancy sound system. I also enjoyed Prudential’s The Forest Man, about a man who has planted 1,400 hectares of trees in his lifetime to stop a river washing away his precious land.
Who do you/would you love to work with in the industry?
I’ve been privileged to have worked with, or alongside, many local South African superstars, most notably Graham Warsop (founder of The Jupiter Drawing Room) and Fraser Lamb (my business partner and CEO here at McCann). Globally, I’ve always liked the idea of working with David Droga. Clemenger BBDO in Australia also catches my eye.
If Johannesburg were a product or brand what would it be?
It sounds like a cliché, but Nike comes to mind due to the slogan ‘Just do it’ – we are fast-paced and keep moving and hustling all the time. Or maybe, 947, one of the big national radio stations; the heartbeat of this country.
Where’s the best place to eat in Johannesburg?
“If you come here and just sit in a hotel and go to a few malls, you’ll miss out on an experience you’d carry with you for life.”
Go to Hartbeespoort, for a truly gastronomical experience at Silver Orange Bistro. My girlfriend had “the best salmon of her life” there and I love the melted sugar shapes they put on top of their desserts.
And to have a drink?
There has been a rise in the number of micro-breweries.
One such establishment is Gilroy’s, a place of great beer, great food and some awesome local live music.
What’s Johannesburg’s favourite pastime?
It’s called a braai – the local version of a BBQ. Try everything from chicken to some of the best beef on Earth, to a local delicacy called boerewors , roughly translated as “farmer’s sausage” – a rich, fatty sausage that’s just delicious.
What’s your one-line life philosophy?
Practise random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty.
What’s your favourite memory of Johannesburg? Winning the Rugby World Cup in 1995.
If you could have one question answered, what would it be?
Aliens. They exist, right?
1 Misty Hills Country Hotel
2 Tasty meats at the Carnivore Restaurant
3 Braai, the local BBQ
4 Poet John Keats
5 Actor Morgan Freeman
6 Volkswagen, For the Love of Drive
7 Prudential, The Forest Man
8 Dessert at the Silver Orange Bistro
9 Craft beers at Gilroy’s
BUDAPEST HUNGARY
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1 Samsung 6 Series 49-inch, curved LED
4K UltraHD smart TV
I realise that I watch very little television or content on an actual TV these days, but nothing beats that rare moment when the kids are in bed, it’s a Friday night and the Deliveroo has just arrived. Watching a movie on this makes me feel as close as I’m ever probably going to get to having a personal cinema at home. Pass the naan bread…
2 Sennheiser
Momentum 2.0
On-Ear wireless headphones
Cool looking and retro (I love a bit of leather and steel, me), the noise cancellation on these is ridiculously good. Music should always sound like this – loud, proud and clear enough to make you feel it all over. Even if that means getting a blast of one of my daughter’s Little Mix playlists once in a while.
3 Leica Sofort instant camera
If I’m honest, I bought this with my kids in mind and with a huge cloud of nostalgia wafting over me. But it’s now my default camera of choice. Wearing a Leica, with its gorgeous design, in cool burnt orange, just makes me feel proper. The Leica lens means that the picture quality is bloody good, especially for an instant camera, and I don’t think anything beats the magic of seeing a photo develop right in front of your eyes.
I’m a complete trainer freak, purely for aesthetic reasons, obviously, as who would actually exercise in something as beautiful as this?
The official blurb says the “boost™
is our most responsive cushioning ever. With a sock-like construction it has moulded EVA midsole plugs for the NMD aesthetic and Moulded TPU heel patch.” I’m sure that means something to someone, but all I know is these are the lightest, most flexible sneaks I’ve floated on in years.
An obvious one, I know, but such an integral part of my life.
Google Spotlight Stories I never cease to be entertained as I wave my phone all over the place. Zoopla For constant dreaming. imo The only form of videocall my mum seems to know how to use.
Flipboard One of my favourite curators of interesting stuff.
Google Maps For getting me anywhere on time.
Parkmobile/RingGo/ParkRight Or any other parking app. So I don’t need to reach for change in the car anymore.
I look forward to travelling so much more because of the incredible library of audio content I have at my disposal now. I’m entertained, informed and educated in equal measure and I love the new talent that’s emerging from this platform. Personal favourites include WTF with Marc Maron, Russell Brand’s radio show Under the Skin, Adam Buxton’s podcast, Girlboss Radio, Huey: Off the Record, The Comedian’s Comedian and The Joe Rogan Experience. With a little Headspace for when I need to breathe deeply.
“The best piece of advice my mother ever gave me – and I’m paraphrasing here – was ‘Harden the fuck up.’”
I was born in 1966.
I’m from Sydney, but my accent has pretty much been destroyed. Soon, I’ll have spent more time outside Australia than inside it.
My earliest memory is of a house party, and adults peering over the crib at me. I remember them trying to calm me down, with cocktails in their hands, and then disappearing, and my frustration at my inability to tell them to stay.
My mum’s a nurse and my dad was a political correspondent for the ABC, Australia’s version of the BBC. He was a painter as well as a writer, so I suppose I got my creative [streak] from him.
The best way to describe my childhood would be feral. I grew up in the Northern Beaches [the northern coastal suburbs of Sydney] – a workingclass area, though it’s since become very posh. My dad wasn’t around, and my mother never knew where I was, or even cared. She worked hard and was away for weeks at a time, so me and my two older brothers would just do whatever we wanted. It was the most unsupervised childhood you could imagine. I basically went to the beach and played rugby and cricket with my friends.
My brothers gave me the nickname Grot, which basically meant filthy little animal.
As a child, Nick Law’s “limited ambitions” included playing rugby for Australia, but he soon graduated from tackling mates in the yard to tussling with typography, design, client briefs and ultimately the very definition of what makes a modern creative agency. During his 16-year tenure at R/GA as Bob Greenberg’s right-hand man, he’s masterminded such innovations as Nike+ FuelBand and Beats Music for Beats by Dre, overseen the agency’s rise from a “poxy little digital production company” to a multi-award-winning creative powerhouse and one-time Cannes Lions Agency of the Year, and powered his way up to vicechairman and global CCO. Put the former feral kid from Sydney’s Northern Beaches in a scrum, and he’ll always come out on top, finds Selena Schleh
As a kid I had very limited ambitions, informed mostly by what was happening in the schoolyard. I wanted to play rugby for Australia because I loved going outside and tackling people.
I don’t think either of my parents ever saw a report card. All I did when I was at school was play sport. Not once in my high school career did I do a scrap of homework. So, by that measure, I was not at all academic. But I was captain of the first XV.
My options after high school were obviously limited by my academic achievements. I asked a friend’s dad, who was a commercial artist, how do
I get a job drawing? He told me about a graphic design course at a local technical college. I made up for everything I didn’t do in high school by working like a dog for two years, and I loved every second of it.
My first job was at a little design company set up by Lun Dyer, where I spent 18 months learning how to design corporate identities and do all the handcrafts.
In 1988 I left and did what all young Australians do. I travelled through South East Asia for six months before heading to London to work. I was
obsessive about my craft, and London was a great place for craft, especially typography. I sent my portfolio by ship, because it was the cheapest way. But when I arrived in London, it wasn’t there. So I got a job washing dishes. Every now and again I’d ask [at the post office]: has my portfolio arrived? They’d say no, and I’d go back to washing dishes.
When it finally arrived, I got a series of jobs in design. From 1988 to 1991 I worked in London, then I went back to Sydney and ran my own design company, Studio Dot. After two years, I went back to London to [independent design consultancy] Pentagram. It was then it occurred to me that there was this thing called advertising, where people got paid a little more.
As much as I have a deep affection for London, I have a fiercer love for New York. I moved here in 1994 and I’ve been in the States ever since. Even after six years I never felt like a Londoner, but I felt like a New Yorker after six months. It’s a very practical city, and people care about what you do, not where you’re from. It’s more complicated in London, because of the [social] layers. Here, people have got no time for that. They just don’t give a fuck.
My mentors weren’t people who steered me in life, but people who had such commitment to their craft, that I really paid attention to them. Alan Fletcher, founding partner of Pentagram, was a giant of design. And there was a German typography teacher at my college who brought a sort of exotic rigour to the craft.
The first ads that made an impression were because of silly jingles. At the time in Australia, that’s what ads were.
The most compelling piece of advertising for me was for the bubble-gum coloured iMacs. Most students of advertising would say ‘Think Different’ was more iconic, but that wasn’t what turned Apple around. It was those ads which were basically product porn: beautiful colours and beautifully shot. There was no idea getting in the way of the thing they were selling.
My favourite campaign that I’ve worked on was the very first Nike+ FuelBand, because I was personally involved as a designer on that job, and as ECD on that account. We didn’t realise it at the time, it was an inflection point – not just for R/GA but for the industry. It opened up the aperture of what agencies could do for clients: we could build products, create audiences and define behaviours. It was a more profound way of changing a company than just pure messaging.
The biggest change I’ve noticed in advertising, in relation to traditional agencies, is that they used to be the partner for a brand. But they no longer have that singular relationship with the client that they used to. They boxed themselves into that relationship because of their obsession with the Bernbach model. Which has become less influential overall.
It’s astonishing that the last time the creative structure was innovated on was in the 50s, by Bernbach, when he combined art direction with writing. A model that was created mostly to make print ads better still persists today in most agencies. But the number of channels and what you can do with media has completely changed, and the idea that you can apply the same organising principle to today’s media environment is absurd.
I don’t think I was a dickhead in the early days of my career, but I was obsessive, so it would have been difficult to work with me if you wanted to go home on time. Having worked across three continents and three different industries, there’s one common thread and that was the sad soundtrack of the trash truck pulling up at 3am while I was still working.
Before starting at R/GA 16 years ago, I’d never stayed in any job for more than 18 months. I kept flipping around. When the dot-com bubble burst, I was working at this start-up in Atlanta and came back to New York to interview with this freak, Bob Greenberg. I’d seen R/GA’s work at the Whitney [Museum of American Art] and I was very impressed. It was clear to me that the web was going to be where everything ended up, so the fact that R/GA was starting to do websites was very intriguing to me.
There was a hundred of us at the beginning, in an office in Hell’s Kitchen, and we built websites. It was more of a systematic task, very different to what traditional agencies were doing at the time. After the dot-com bubble burst, the internet didn’t go away: it started to become more ingrained in people’s behaviours. That’s when R/GA started to get connected to other things, like marketing, product, services.
We went from doing websites to building a customisation engine so that people could customise their Nike shoes. We also did a basketballers’ network for Nike before social [media] actually existed. That got us thinking about communities and people connecting with each other, as opposed to just the company. Then Nike+ came along and we realised we were building services that could enable behaviours as opposed to just telling people what the product was about. So the web went from being a brochure to a tool, to a connector and then it became the place where all the good stuff happened.
R/GA’s never been on the defensive. We’re always making these bets on the future while we’re simultaneously doing the things we’re doing really well. When we win Agency of the Year, or we’ve had our best financial year, that’s the right time to make big changes because you can afford to. When your business model is starting to shrink, how are you going to be able to afford to make changes?
My relationship with Bob is this: Bob is prepared to do the things we, as an agency, need to do to succeed and to go through that discomfort, and I’m prepared to go through that discomfort with him. Bob’s bravery is the thing I admire the most. He has a great systematic mind and understands how things should be structured, but more importantly he has the resolve and courage to implement that.
Since being promoted from global CCO to vice-chairman, I spend a lot of time with Bob and Barry [Wacksman EVP, global chief strategy officer] thinking about the future of the agency and the bets we’re making on the future. It’s design applied to a company, in a way. I’m still involved in the work, though Taras [Wayner] and Chloe [Gottlieb] have taken over a lot of the dayto-day running of the US, so I can concentrate on our global expansion.
From an analogue point of view, creatives have always been better when they’ve got more data. In the course of your career you ingest and synthesise all of the mistakes you’ve made and the things that have done well. That’s data. Going to galleries, museums, keeping up with what’s going on the industry – it’s all inputs. Creativity isn’t this thing that comes out of vapour, it’s a result of you synthesising experiences and information. To me, that’s the relationship that data has with creativity, and to say you don’t need more data is like saying “I don’t need any more experiences.” But unless you have the courage to take an intuitive leap off that data, then you’re going to end up with tepid, mechanical, hollow work.
I want to work with anyone who is really good at what they do. There’s just so much interesting talent around the world because of the democratisation of tools. It could be someone like Jony Ive, or a teenager from Chengdu, China.
But I’d never work on cigarettes, or armaments brands. Or anything that’s connected to a religion, because it’s difficult to be inclusive.
The best piece of advice my mother ever gave me – and I’m paraphrasing here – was “Harden the fuck up.”
Listen and learn, but don’t let others define you, is what I’d tell anyone hoping to enter the industry. Creative people are very susceptible to being puffed up by praise and crushed by criticism. The only way you can stop yourself from going on that rollercoaster ride is if you have a good idea of yourself. It doesn’t mean that you can’t inform that idea of yourself by listening to people’s criticism and praise, but you can’t define yourself by that.
Knowing about your own skillset, for creative people especially, is important. As creativity has transitioned from pure narrative advertising to a broader definition, I’ve found a lot of creatives trying to do things they were not very good at. Knowing what you’re good at and being honest with yourself is the most important thing.
The best day of my career was when R/GA won Agency of the Year at Cannes [in 2015], because it was a culmination of a lot of hard work, and I was surrounded by the people who I had been working with – in some cases – for decades. Also [I liked] the fact that a poxy little digital production company had all of a sudden become this powerhouse.
The worst day was probably when I got sick on a pitch for an automotive client a few years ago. I remember the stress of trying to hold it together through sheer will.
The other side of the coin to “Harden the fuck up” is that people close to me often think I’m insensitive. Creative people are actually very sensitive, and how much you show that is down to how you’ve been socialised. I had such a feral upbringing I wasn’t socialised to show gratitude or love openly. You associate that with vulnerability. But I’ve got better at it as I’ve got older.
If I could time travel I would go back to the age of exploration in the Pacific, in the days of Captain Cook or [British botanist and explorer] Joseph Banks, before the world was completely known. Of course, it didn’t work out so well for all of the native peoples… but it would have been a lovely adventure.
I don’t believe in work-life balance: I think you need to like your work enough that it’s a part of your life. This idea that these worlds have to be separated and protected – it’s just not how I live.
Historically, money hasn’t been very important to me; I haven’t based my decisions on it. I have more responsibilities now, so I wouldn’t go off and be a trapeze artist because all of a sudden my kids wouldn’t have shoes. But I’m also not mercenary. I think that’s one way to kill creativity.
Harm to my children, if it happened, would be my biggest fear, but I don’t think about it.
I last cried when my wife’s dad died last year. People passing away makes me cry. Although most of the people I know and my family are really fucking stubborn. They don’t seem to die.
I’ve never thought my life was in peril even though I grew up completely unsupervised in a very dangerous country, chasing yellow-bellied black snakes down the stormwater channel, and going out in huge surf and wondering how the hell I was going to get back in.
The best moment of my personal life? It’s pretty hard to go better than watching another human being being extruded from your good lady wife.
I’m a true mixture of introvert and extrovert. I was a painfully shy child, but as an adult I have no fear of public speaking or going on stage. It goes back to not worrying about what people think of you. I’m social on social occasions but I don’t seek them out.
My heroes are Terry Gilliam and Dr Zeuss. My favourite filmmaker is probably [Japanese animator] Miyazaki. As a parent of four kids I see a lot of Pixar-type animations but none of them are as magical as his. They capture beautiful human moments and are a bit idiosyncratic.
Arrogant and selfish people make me angry.
I don’t Google myself because I’m not interested by what’s on there: it’s basically trade stuff. [Creatives] are not really public figures. The great mind-trick about Cannes [Lions] is that people think they’re actually famous, but in reality they’re the most famous plumbers of the plumbing festival.
The greatest human invention is language.
The worst human invention is weapons. All that energy put into thinking how to make a bullet explode.
I’m unusual in my political leanings because I’m a social progressive but a fiscal conservative. So, if I was the US president for a day, I’d make people take responsibility but also be inclusive and accepting of different ways of thinking.
I don’t have any hobbies. Work. I like watching sport, I read a lot – history, non-fiction – but somehow it always doubles back to informing my work.
My ambitions? To get through this week.
I really don’t care how I’m remembered. As soon as I keel over, it’s not going to matter to me. I don’t even care how I’m disposed of. The singular thing I’m most proud of doing, and which may help our industry, is the re-thinking of the atomic creative team. Instead of art and copy, it’s stories and system. Getting these two different ways of thinking, working symbiotically.
At the end of the day, other people are really all that matters. We are social beings. We don’t exist outside our collective.
“The great mindtrick about Cannes [Lions] is that people think they’re actually famous, but in reality they’re the most famous plumbers of the plumbing festival.”
In Olivia Atkins’ round-up of work by hot new talent soft toys get hard in a funny film inspired by fragments, a Lebanese director gives voice to 100 Middle Eastern women and a dark comedy thriller mines the immense joy of watching very angry men
Winston & Daisy
This savagely funny tale won directing duo set designer Felix Brady and Ben Fallows, a creative at CHI & Partners, top prize in the 2017 Homespun Yarns short film competition. Entrants were challenged to incorporate at least one of eight stock clips into their submissions.
How did you both get into directing and at what point did you decide to team up?
We’ve known each other since we were five years old! We grew up in Wimbledon and spent our childhoods shooting skate videos together. We only had a home video camera so used to film PowerPoint presentations on my dad’s laptop screen to make title sequences and sellotape headphones to the mic to add music. We had to be really creative. It made us both fall in love with making films. Last year we thought – since we’d both worked in the industry for a while – it would be fun to start making films together again.
How did you come up with the concept for Winston & Daisy?
We went through all the Homespun clips over and over. We ended up writing an idea for most of them. There was just something about this clip in particular [driving along a dark road] that sparked the most interesting thought and once we had that, the whole story just sort of slotted into place.
Tell us about the production process?
We shot it in the middle of nowhere at a petrol station in Surrey over two long nights. I’d like to say it all went to plan but it was incredibly tight due to short summer nights. All credit to Blonde Films who helped us get it all done in time.
What was it like working with puppets?
It was hard. As they were the main characters we were desperate for them to have loads of character. We ended up using existing soft toys and adding in our own mechanical parts. Then we practised with the puppeteers as much as possible to make sure the movements felt convincing enough.
And what qualities were you looking for in your lead (human) actors?
We wanted them to be very natural so tried to cast actors that mirrored their characters as much as possible. Nathan [Whitfield] and Marie [Williamson], our two leads, were very skilled at improvisation and those skills really came into play when we faced limitations with the puppets and what we physically had time to do.
How di cult was it to nail humour in the film? It was completely clear in our heads but getting what we wanted on the day was di cult. It was hard to predict how the puppets’ movements
would look when we had five people operating them. We tried to shoot as many random movements as possible with the puppets and extra improvised bits with the actors so we could play around in the edit and write some new lines in, which worked really well.
What have you learnt so far as a directing duo? We are starting to realise the type of things we want to make and what comes naturally to us. We’re really excited about the director we create when we work together.
What can we expect from you both in future?
The plan is to end up directing together one day so we’re going to keep on shooting as much as we possibly can. In the meantime, Felix will continue directing on his own and I’ll continue as a creative. We’ve both got exciting projects coming up in the next year so that will keep us busy.
“We tried
to shoot as many random movements as possible with the puppets and extra improvised bits with the actors so we could play around in the edit.”
MUSIC VIDEO
Mashrou’ Leila
Roman
Retreating into a world of TV and film as a child, this Lebanese director found her creative voice in a country with little in the way of a film industry. She now sees self-expression through filmmaking as a duty to her country.
When did you decide you wanted to direct?
I knew I wanted to tell stories from a very young age. I was born [in Lebanon] in 1990 during the last year of the civil war. I had lots of time to be bored so I developed a special relationship with TV and film and spent time dreaming of a di erent reality to the one around me. I grew up telling everyone that I wanted to make films. People laughed at me because when you come from Lebanon, such a small country, nothing feels possible. When I’d finished school, my parents signed me up to study business at university but I secretly went to the Lebanese school of art and registered in audiovisual studies. After that I started working as a stylist on commercials, but I soon became unhappy because I wasn’t creating. After starting, but not finishing, a Masters in filmmaking in Barcelona, I returned to Lebanon, shut myself in my room and wrote a fashion short film called Danse à Deux Temps, went out and
found a client, co-produced and directed it. It got Vimeo Sta Pick five hours after going up and it was then that the big brands started to contact me.
How did the opportunity for Mashrou’ Leila’s music video come up and was there a brief? It was funny. I received the track from Caviar, who rep me in London. But the boys [in the band] are my friends from Beirut so we met in a bar a week later and started brainstorming. There was no brief, the band was pretty open.
What was the inspiration behind Roman?
The thrust of the track is one word from the song’s refrain: “Aleihum!” [Charge!]. The idea came from that cry for liberation. The Middle East has been a hip backdrop for many Western music videos and films. I had the idea of the film in my head from
“I didn’t want to portray Middle Eastern women as victims like Western media does. This film is an ode to the grace and strength of Arab women.”
before, but when the track came in, it all made sense. This is not a white feminist film. I didn’t want to portray Middle Eastern women as victims like Western media does. This film is an ode to the grace and strength of Arab women.
Where was the film shot and how long did production take?
It was a crazy three-day shoot. 100 women; 37°C (fucking hot); in four di erent corners of Lebanon. Three weeks of preparation and a 48-hour edit.
How did you enlist the women in the promo?
I did the casting on Skype and found an Arab lady living in France. She had a strong and wild look but there was grace in her eyes. She is fire and wind. For the remaining 99, it was a mix of women from Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, Jordan and Palestine. They were all ages from 16 to 65.
What was it like to direct such a big cast?
It was chaotic, but that’s how I like it. The actors forgot that they were being filmed. Some of the locations were confirmed on the same day of the shoot. I didn’t follow a storyboard, I wasn’t looking into the monitor all the time. I was standing with
Charlie Edwards-Moss & Joe Williams SHORT FILM Duke’s Pursuit
Following success at festivals with their short Urinal Cakes, the cheekily-named duo went on to make another dark comedy thriller that won a Rising Star award at the Edinburgh Short Film Festival last year.
“We took huge inspiration from the Robert De Niro character in Cape Fear and Ben Kingsley’s character in Sexy Beast, both of them are just so catatonically angry… ”
the women acting, talking and dancing with them. It was beautiful. I had goose bumps all the time.
You use a lot of choreography in your work. Why did you think it would be fitting for this piece? It’s happened by accident that my two films have dance in them. I’m not a dancer. I wish I was! It’s such a powerful, noble and non-violent form of expression. It goes beyond language.
How would you describe your directorial style? 50 per cent chaos; 50 per cent symphony.
What are the challenges of being a young director in the Middle East?
There’s no real film industry in Lebanon, so when you live in a place like this and have some way of expressing yourself, you feel you owe it to your country to do so. The more I make films, the more I understand that I have a tool with which to make changes around me. It sounds naïve, but it’s true.
What are you working on at the moment?
I just finished writing a short film and a docufiction series [real-time documentary with fictional elements]. I can’t wait to bring them to life!
How long have you been a directing duo and when did each of you decide to be directors?
JOE We’ve been directing together since we were about 15. Before that I’d been writing stories – mainly dragon-based fantasies.
CHARLIE As teenagers we started getting into classics by Scorsese and Tarantino. Those films are so accessible that we thought, let’s give it a go, and we started making camcorder films.
What is it about directing that you enjoy?
CHARLIE Getting a huge team of people on board with something derived completely from your imagination is so exciting.
JOE Working with actors and crew; discovering new things about the story and characters.
How did the name Hot Wee Wee come about?
CHARLIE It’s the name of the production company we made when we were kids. Our YouTube channel was called HotweeweepicturesUK, like there was a US branch!
JOE It’s named after a character in [noughties UK TV series] The Mighty Boosh – Hot Wee-Wee Je erson. We really like it; not many other people do.
How did this short come about?
JOE We felt ready to attempt stu we’d always wanted to before – get a gun in there, maybe a horse. Duke’s Pursuit was the result of trying to attempt genre cinema in short form.
What inspires you both?
CHARLIE Each other. We’ve been mates since we were five and can chat about ideas for hours.
Why did you shoot in Iceland and how was it filming there?
JOE Our Icelandic co-producer and production designer, Bóas Arnarson, convinced us – quite easily – that the Icelandic landscape would be the perfect backdrop for a modern(ish) Western.
CHARLIE It was awesome! We were so lucky that Bóas made filming in Iceland a reality.
What were the biggest challenges in bringing this film to life?
JOE Scheduling so that we could get everyone we wanted in another country at the same time.
CHARLIE The weather! It was freezing and very windy. I thought that keeping people motivated in those conditions would be tricky, but the whole cast and crew were amazing.
What lessons did you learn while filming?
JOE I learnt to respect timekeeping and that keeping people well-fed and warm and happy is one of the most important things on set.
What qualities were you looking for in your protagonist?
CHARLIE We wanted to create a character who is a force of nature, who has almost cartoon character-like abilities, who’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. We were inspired by Robert De Niro in Cape Fear and Ben Kingsley in Sexy Beast – both are so just catatonically angry, which makes such watchable cinema.
What is it about the dark comedy/thriller genre that appeals to you?
JOE Snappy dialogue and stylised violence.
What was it like to win the Edinburgh short film festival 2016 Rising Star award?
CHARLIE It was fantastic. The short films played were brilliantly curated by the team there.
What are you working on at the moment?
JOE Our next project is a 70s-set horror short called Original Villain. It’s about two priests who are summoned to a country house to perform an exorcism. It’s gonna be really atmospheric and very, very scary. We’ve actually just made the shortlist for The Pitch –a film grant run by Pinewood studios.
Jonathan Bairstow, MD and EP of animation studio Sherbet London, remembers the blue pencils and legal pitfalls of creating a parody that has become as beloved as the classic Christmas cartoon that inspired it.
The Leith Agency approached us in 2006, after coming up with the idea of a Snowman spoof. We were known as specialists in hand-drawn 2D animation, following a long series of Persil commercials for JWT in the early noughties and Yorkshire Tea Teascape for Taylors of Harrogate and South Brand Builders in 2003. We hadn’t worked with the agency before, but it was the beginning of a great relationship with producer Les Watt and the team, and we went on to storyboard, design, animate and comp Irn-Bru Animals in 2010.
The script felt simple – as if it had been waiting to be written. Simplicity can go either way with advertising. In this case it was obviously a big plus. We loved the edgy Scottish humour, but doubted permission would be granted to parody the original film, so left it in the hands of the agency.
Robin Shaw, who’d directed Teascape, was the obvious choice of director – and he was already a big fan of Raymond Briggs’ work. He did all of the animation supported by five assistants.
The budget and schedule made it impossible to create the ad in the same way as the original. We had to find a quicker way, without compromising its look. The volume and quality of hand-drawn and coloured work was the same, but we tightened up the process.
All animation was done in blue pencils (made especially for animators but now sadly out of production) and every drawing –720 in total – was scanned and printed out in a paler blue. The print-outs were worked over with coloured pencils to become the finished frames of full colour artwork. These were scanned and additional compositing and visual e ects were done digitally.
As a small independent production company, we worked a minor miracle to produce an ad of that quality, in that style, within the given schedule and budget. The animation and colouring took nine weeks: an extremely tight turnaround for a hand-drawn, frame-by-frame, minute-long spot.
Robin stepped seamlessly into the shoes of Raymond Briggs, by maintaining the sensitivity of the original film, while also embracing the cheeky humour in the script. One big challenge was to fit the number of scenes described in the script into a 60-second ad, which he did brilliantly. After completing the job, he was so exhausted that he fell asleep on the train back to France and ended up in Belgium.
We had the usual public indemnity insurance but, because of the profile and value of the Snowman brand, we had to be doubly certain that our agreement with The Leith Agency and AG Barr excluded Sherbet from all copyright issues. I remember battling to get the wording finalised before we delivered the ad.
Ben Robinson, who did the vocals, currently works as a security guard at Asda in Edinburgh. We now wonder whether Ben accosts shoplifters exiting the store with cans of drink by singing “You nicked that Irn-Bruuuu…”
Having worked in the animation industry since the mid-’80s and knowing people who worked on the original film, I was worried some might think we were cheapening The Snowman and being disrespectful. But I thought if we pulled it o , it would ultimately be a real homage.
Visually, the entire ad is brilliant and features lots of Scottish landmarks. Replacing the whale from the original film with the Loch Ness monster was a great touch. I love the irreverence of it, with a sense of warmth and fun at the same time. The original film and accompanying song had become so well known that creating a parody of them with an edgy Scottish twist was refreshing.
Now, more than a decade later, the advert is still screened in Scotland every Christmas and has been voted Scotland’s all-time favourite commercial. Some people say Christmas hasn’t arrived until the Irn-Bru Snowman ad has hit the screen.