Here’s the newish BBC Bull ad from Fallon:

It’s quite nice, but I’d say the best thing about it is the way it’s been directed: it looks and feels really different – strong, interesting and atmospheric, which is just right for the subject matter.

I’ve never heard of Wiz and I can’t be arsed to look him/her up on the net, but I think he’s the first newbie I’ve seen in a while who’s got ‘it’ (actually, for all I know, he’s not a newbie. Whatevs).

I was chatting to a friend the other day about the odd state of flux you find yourself in during your mid-thirties.

I have no proper research to back this up, but I have a theory that your mid-thirties are the optimal point between drive and experience. Of course, there are many exceptions to this – a great many people find their callings at much younger or older ages – however, I think that around your mid-thirties is the time when you have enough experience of working life to decide what you do or don’t like, and yet you are not too old to change to another career should you so choose.

In addition, it’s also the time when many people have kids, and kids are really good at getting you to reappraise your life. If you have a soul you might start to question how your actions will appear to your children and how they might be affected by the kind of person you are. Are you someone they can be proud of/look up to? If not, then here’s where you can change.

In Paul Arden’s first book he includes a fascinating pie chart of what happens to you at different ages. Ages 30-40 are named ‘hellbent on success’. Again, I think this might be the intersection of relative youth and experience that leaves you feeling empowered enough to do something, yet wide-eyed enough to believe that it will succeed.

Of course, the momentum of all this may see you through the rest of your career.

So, if you were born while Nixon, Ford or Carter were in the White House – now’s your time.

Avatar Retardation.

Which leads me nicely into this:

(Thanks,J.)

But then maybe it’s not so bad.

One of the most excellent things I have ever seen (there’s a full 70 minutes of it. Thanks, K.):

Some beautiful genius I found on the Escape Pod blog:

Explosions and Boobs (thanks, P.)

Some of you wanted to know more about the website of the guy who ‘got out’ of advertising. Well, here it is. Please try to break the record for the ‘Fastest Symmetrical Fill Of A Connect Four Board By Two People With One Eye Closed Using Their Non-Dominant Hands‘.

Finally, this is a nice ad that I think is a bit old. You can spice it up by imagining the picture of the cat as Bring on the Trumpets, the crying people as most of the UK advertising community, and the guy in the red T-shirt as me:

(Thanks, S. Via Twitter.)

Have you ever briefed a supplier (illustrator/director/photographer/musician etc.), only to find that what he or she came up with was not what you asked them to do?

Of course you have. It happens so often that I can barely think of an instance where it did not occur.

Me: So we just want a man standing by a normal park bench in a red T-shirt, like this sketch here.
Illustrator: No problem.
(Timewipe to three days later)
Me: Why the fuck have you drawn a crocodile on a spaceship in a red T-shirt?
Illustrator: Was that not what you wanted?

This post is not about that latitude you give a director to let the ‘magic’ happen or the looseness of a reportage photography brief. I’m talking about the gap between clear instructions and off-piste results that I’d like to christen the Grey Zone.

There’s always a point when you brief someone that they actually have to go off and do what you’ve asked. During this time you do not look over their shoulder, partly because it’s rude and impractical, and partly because you spoke to them in plain bloody English and do not expect to have been misunderstood.

So the Grey Zone happens (if you’re doing animation it can take a good month) and you get your handful of magic beans back from the market. Then the rebrief begins and you repeat this process until you get close enough to what you were after or you kill yourself/the supplier.

Much fun.

As odd as this may appear, in my calmer moments I can understand that it’s just like when a creative gets a brief with some clear instructions on it then comes back with something that makes a different point in a different way in a different medium. Many of us think we’ve got the right to ignore what we’ve been asked to do because we think our solution is better. I suppose that the artists we brief think the same thing: why give me something to do if you don’t want my input into it? Isn’t it a good thing when I surprise you with some work that lives three towns away from what you were expecting? Shouldn’t you just be delighted that I took your fairly dull pass and scored a goal so incredible it was actually in an entirely different sport?

Well, I can’t deny that I get exasperated when people ignore me, so maybe, just maybe, it’s all right for others to feel the same way.

But none of that sits well with the kind of self belief and insecurity it takes to be a creative.

(Thanks, A. Via Twitter.)

Fallon’s new Innocent ad (Thanks, D).

UPDATE:

Bring on the voiceovered silent thing.

Is this the first new ad trend of 2010?

Certainly keeps the budgets down.

(Thanks, Anon.)

(Really, really, really, NSFW. Thanks, J. Via Twitter.)

Massive Attack Paradise Circus from sabakan on Vimeo.

I don’t think James Cameron is the best director in the world.

I don’t think he’s even in the top 100 (UPDATE: OK, he’s about number 54).

I have no urge to watch a single one of his movies right now (I did see Avatar the other day).

His plots are derivative.

Much of Titanic was dreadful.

But…

I just can’t wrap my head around what he is able to do.

In Hollywood a hell of a lot of very desperate, very clever people are trying to make big films that please a lot of people and make a lot of money. That’s all they are trying to do, all day every day. Amongst them, James Cameron has written, produced and directed the two biggest films in history (Avatar’s final gross is still shooting up, but it took in more money in 17 days than The Dark Knight did in its entire run. And The Dark Knight is the fourth biggest-grossing film of all time).

He took incredible chances with the technology that created both Titanic and Avatar (and let’s not forget how amazing parts of The Abyss and all of Terminator Two were), chances that could have bummed him out of the business. But they all came off better than anyone could have expected. He seems to have the ability to create stories in an incredibly complex medium that are more popular than anyone else’s. And whether you like them or not, they touch and impress more people than anything you have ever done, or ever will do. But how does he do it? What is it about him that makes him so much better at a game that some really smart people are trying constantly to win?

The bad news for those of you that want to emulate him is that he was bullied at school and he seems to hold a grudge about this that drives him like a bastard:

“If you ever go to a 25th high school reunion, make sure that in the previous two months you’ve made the world’s highest-grossing movie, won 11 Academy Awards and become physically bigger than most of those guys who used to beat you up. I walked up to them one by one and said, ‘You know, I could take your ass right now, and I’m tempted, but I won’t.’

So, do you need a bit of adversity to butt up against in order to get the motivation to spend your life trying to cancel it out?

Are successful people driven by a need for mass love and approval to replace that which they did not get when young?

Can you have a happy, easy youth and still find it in yourself to be one of the best, or will the good times eventually dissipate the fire?

I suppose the annoying thing is that you can’t choose any of this. Either you’ve got it or you don’t. But then perhaps an un-bullied, joyous childhood is a good trade off for a slightly less driven life. And of course, bullying etc. can send you off in the other direction to spend your life metaphorically cowering in a corner.

So, no real answers.

I guess that makes this my first really pointless post of 2010.

But don’t worry; there are many more on the way.

UPDATE: A post on the reasons behind Avatar’s success.

UPDATE 2: Arthur Kade’s take on the same question.

I was talking to another copywriter at the end of last year and he was telling me about his friend’s website, which has now become so successful that the guy has left advertising and runs the site full-time (it’s really fun. I’d link to it but I think the friend and the copywriter want to remain anonymous).

The copywriter then leaned back with a rueful smile on his face and said, ‘The lucky bastard. He got out.’
I paused for a moment than said, ‘You know he wasn’t working in a call centre or down a mine. He ‘got out’ of one of the most appealing office jobs in the world.’

Then we had a bit of a laugh at how ridiculous it was, but we both recognised that, even when you’re talking about ‘escaping’ being an ad creative, there is still an element of attractiveness to it. This is because of our natural human need to constantly seek improvements – the dissatisfaction that drives most of us forwards.

Another element of this is down to the (I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again) reduced appeal of working in advertising. The above example shows very clearly that new opportunities exist for creative people to express themselves in ways that are equally or more appealing than the creation of adverts. What once felt like the enormous fun of possibly spunking £1,000,000 getting Ridley Scott to bring your words to life in Barbados now seems more like a chore where the fragmentation of channels and budgets either reshapes the ‘fun’ so that it’s unrecognisable or removes it all together. I’m sure a lot of people will wax lyrical about how the current flux of technology and opportunities in advertising is really exciting, but if they were really honest, they’ve either had the Ridley Scott thrill already, or it’s now so remote that it can be easily dismissed as a vulgar indulgence.

So where does that leave us? Do you want to get out, or is advertising still hitching its skirt up and showing you a glimpse of thigh?

I wonder if the answer lies in being in and out. Why can’t you work in advertising (particularly if you’re freelance) and create a short film/website/book/album? Then you might find that one of your outs takes up too much time and you have to leave, and then maybe you can come back. Or not. Or maybe advertising tempts you full time and you put your hardcore trance (is that a genre?) software project on hold. Or not.

2010: embrace a messy life.

UPDATE: here’s a related article (thanks, D).