Unsigned: Yvette Paxinos

October 24, 2014 / Signed/Unsigned

By The Beak Street Bugle

A graduate of the MTV school of rambunctiousness.

Yvette Paxinos was born in Sydney in the 80s and raised on a farm. 24 years later she found herself experimenting at MTV as an animator.

It was a rich environment to hone her talents in. She picked up a few promo briefs that were lying on the floor that nobody wanted to do and worked with a bunch of amazing talent like Patrick Clair, Hilary Bunt and all the producers there, who she describes as “bloody rambunctious”. In those days, with had stacks of money and no client limitations, apparently “it was more like a circus than a TV station.”

It’s put her in good stead. Now she’s bolstering her reel with promos for such credible artists as Tom Vek and with a solid grounding in working to a brief, she could be ripe to bring her deft touch to some bigger commercials.

Watch some of her work here:

Signed: Lawrence Blankenbyl

October 23, 2014 / Signed/Unsigned

By The Beak Street Bugle

A globetrotting Kiwi lands in London.

Lawrence Blankenbyl is new on the London commercial production scene, but he’s built quite some weight behind him since his moving image career began in his native New Zealand almost ten years ago.

Having started as a graphic designer, he earned the daunting title of ‘New Zealand New Media and Design Ambassador’ before he decided he wanted to make films. Three years on from that decision he’d won a Gold Lion for a music video he made for The Pet Shop Boys and was getting worldwide trade media attention.

On the back of that he took up a two-year artistic residency at Fabrica in the North of Italy, where he completed his first feature documentary Rwanda Again, which has been on Italian and Swiss TV and has screened at festivals around the world.

Since then he’s spent some time working in Switzerland working for clients such as Louis Vuitton and now he’s landed in London and signed to Little Madam – Madam’s new division for emerging directors. Flanked by the talented Effie Pappa and Lucio Arese, we’ll be keen to see what he creates in the creative hub that is London.

Watch some of his work here:

Ancient Wisdom

October 21, 2014 / Features

By Alex Reeves

The History of Advertising Trust reminds us why we should protect the past to improve the future of our industry.

The advertising industry’s obsession with the future is inevitable. The new is exciting, cool and interesting – everything advertisers want to be – and if they’re going to be communicating in a relevant way, agencies need to be on the cutting edge of culture. But this obsession is also a dangerous one. It results in acute amnesia. The past is quickly disregarded in favour of the next big thing and lessons are often left unlearned in the wake.

The History of Advertising Trust (HAT) has been fighting to restore balance to the industry since 1976, reminding them that a look in the rear view mirror every so often can be a valuable thing. They also handily provide them with a big mirror to do so.

HAT’s job is to protect and represent the heritage of advertising, to preserve the story of its development and the best work through the ages. Their archive of millions of relics from the advertising world is fascinating and ever growing, stored in temperature-controlled, low-acidity conditions at their facility in Norfolk. It’s a potentially a rich source of inspiration for new generations and a fascinating treasure trove to dig through.

There’s a lot more than just ads at HAT’s archive. Their collection also encompasses the context in which they were created, including such fascinating artefacts as the notepads and sketches that went into their creation, telling the stories from behind the scenes. There are even contracts for famous talents and correspondence between clients and agencies, fleshing out the history of the social dynamics of the industry.

“Although formats change the ideas are what really matter,” asserts Chloe Veale, Director of the Trust. And while HAT’s collection is vast and exciting, she and her team are always keen to grow it and fill in the gaps in the communications tapestry.

Their facility is full of gadgetry and gizmos for converting old formats into stuff that can be digitally archived and backed up, but it’s painstaking work putting old 35mm film and transparencies onto hard drives as it often has to be done in real time.

The end goal of all this is to reduce the impact of that geographical barrier between the metro-centric British advertising industry and HAT’s base of operations in Norfolk by cataloguing everything online in a digital format. That’s a huge job, especially for a charity with limited access to funding, but it’s one they’re handling at a steady pace with the support of the idustry.

Channelling their efforts into this digitization and opening the doors of its archive wider to the industry is testament to the fact that HAT is no dusty repository where ads go to be catalogued and forgotten; it’s an active, participatory part of an industry that desperately needs to learn from its past in order to produce the best work.

They’ve built their archives by gathering material from a plethora of sources and as lovers of history they relish this. “We rescue material,” says Chloe, “but we’d prefer a working relationship. The hardest thing is to make sure we’re getting the fresh stuff that’s being produced today. We’ve got to keep feeding the archive with stuff that’s current.”

It’s a paradox, but while technology has given us all the tools to preserve our work easily by building our own digital archive, it has also taken away the structures and disciplines that physical cataloguing demanded. The notes a creative made while coming up with the next historic ad are likely in a folder in a hard drive somewhere, but where exactly is up to that creative’s personal filing system – and calling it a system may be giving it too much credit. “We’d like agencies to send us their digital records,” explains Chloe, “but a lot of them wouldn’t know how to access them. The digital world is a great asset for information but it’s also extremely expensive to have all the back-up storage.”

HAT want to nurture a two-way relationship with agencies. Ultimately they need cooperation in constantly building their archive, but it all goes towards the greater goal of strengthening the industry as a whole.  “It’s all about relationships, the whole business,” says Chloe. “And we’re here to help everybody. We’re a service, not a museum. This is living heritage. We’re still creating it and it’s here to be drawn upon.”

Ultimately, in a world obsessed with immediacy and cost cutting, HAT can save agencies and production companies time and money, by smoothing the process of research. They have shelves rammed full of guard books that detail the entire chronologies of brands’ advertising histories. They’ve gathered together material from disparate sources – from head offices, local factories and outlets, agencies and even ex-creatives’ lofts and boiler rooms – to fill in the gaps in brands’ timelines of communication.

It’s all in one place and available for their clients to access and they can deal with lines of enquiry where Google would hit a brick wall. HAT have recently been working on a project called Saving the 70s, producing compilation reels of 1970s advertising and collecting anecdotes, photographs and ephemera from the era, but Chloe is confident they could virtually cover any timeframe or theme people are interested in.

“You can’t catalogue ideas,” she admits, “but you can catalogue slogans, language, images, products and brands. When [agencies] are saying ‘give us everything you’ve got on salad cream since the 1930s’ we can do it."

At Advertising Week Europe earlier this year, The History of Advertising Trust screened Risk and Responsibility, a witty deconstruction of the client-account manager-agency dynamic featuring now legendary ad men Ronnie Kirkwood, Jeremy Bullmore, Sam Rothenstein and David Bernstein. You can’t find it on the internet, but the sketch from 1966 hilariously depicts a pair of risk-averse clients reducing Ogilvy’s iconic The Man in the Hathaway Shirt ad to a pile of bland rubbish. It’s message is as relevant now as it was then – risks must be taken in order to stand out, and clients will need some persuading to take these risks. The battles of the industry then are still raging.

We may have immersive online brand experiences and creative technologists coding our advertising now, but the core principles of the industry still hold. That’s why we should pay attentions to The History of Advertising Trust and the wealth of knowledge held within their archive. We’ll never be so enlightened that we cannot learn from the past.

7 Voice Over Artists You Might End Up Booking

October 17, 2014 / Humour

By Jamie Grant

Jamie Grant goes over the usual suspects of the voiceover session.

Summon up your best Scouse accent and ask “What's yer name, and where do you come from...?”  Cilla Black's catchphrase was a game-show staple of the 80s and 90s. The screen that prevented the chooser connecting the face to the voice made it all the more fun. But booking a voice artist you've not worked with before can be a similarly blind date; the talent's credentials may impress on paper, but the guy or girl who walks through the door might not be quite what you expected.

London’s newest voice agency Loud and Clear Voices has conducted the most up-to-date (unscientifically provable) survey in ad-land history to bring you the following data so that you, dear booker, can have some idea of what you might be getting.

Type 1
The artist who walks in armed with two backpacks full of Nurofen, a tube of Berocca up each sleeve, and a flask of herbal concoction from the Far East. They will crave your indulgence after each take to check that you didn’t want a horse-sounding delivery stating “There's definitely something going round”, but you suspect he / she might actually have just stayed up all night clubbing in Ibiza before jumping on a 5.50am flight back to Luton.

Type 2
The artist who seemed ok on the way in, but is now glassy-eyed and wet of cheek. Worry not; it's nothing you've said. They're bound to be The Vegan Who Silently Weeps whilst voicing your hamburger chain campaign... Don’t tell Morrissey.

Type 3
The 40-year-old FVO who looks so much older than her publicity shot that you don't recognise her. The worry-lines are from being hugely in debt to the vocal osteopath; every day she's asked to voice tiny children (“we just need a dozen RP 4-year-old girl and boy voices, please; make sure they're all different. Light coming!”).

Type 4
The guy who really wants you to know he has a movie coming out in the spring: “End of day two, and I'm Facebook friends with Tom Hanks and Colin Firth, can you believe that?” It's hard to tell whether he's flirting with you or with his own reflection in the sound booth window.

Type 5
The guy who wants you to know he can do EVERY accent...in the world: “Could I just try it again, and I'll give you three in a row: South Shields, Lanarkshire borders, and Isle of Wight” (All you needed him to say was “Toshiba”).

Type 6
The MVO who, after insisting on shaking everybody's hand (cue awkward pulling in of chairs as he snakes his way round the tiny control-room), announces he's got 'flu. That “light, gentle tone” which the client had their heart set on, today sounds more like Barry White on a hangover.

Type 7
The pristine voice actor whose velvety tones are everything you hoped for and more. This campaign for the new Renault Rialto featuring animated footage of Roger Rabbit is going to be fabulous...until you realise he can't say his “R”s. (A rapid review of his voice demo reveals that it avoided any R-words. Playing to his strengths?)


Of course you won’t find any of these delightful examples at Loud and Clear Voices.

Under the Influence: Arno Salters

October 8, 2014 / Features

By Alex Reeves

The absurd inspirations of Caviar’s zaniest Franco-British director.

No director is an island. And as much as they claim they pull their ideas directly out of their genius brains, the vast majority of creative ideas are, in fact, pilfered from other people’s work and combined with other stuff to disguise their genesis. That’s why we do this series – to try and trace the lineage of directors’ output.

Arno Salters, who recently signed to Caviar, has some truly odd commercials on his reel, often playing with the laws of physics. We wanted to understand what goes into a head to get this sort of thing out, so asked him to talk about five of his biggest influences.

Taking the Metro

“I live in Paris, and when you live here you either drive a moped or you take the Metro. I do the latter.

There’s a lot of frowning that goes on down there, but if you look beyond that it’s a great source of inspiration. You get to observe every single layer of society up close, and come face to face with characters of such strangeness that you couldn’t write them into a screenplay without readers feedbacking ‘I don’t buy that character.’

Some of the observational virtues have diminished in recent years with the advent of smartphones. People tend to hide behind Candy Crush or 2048 rather than putting their personalities out there for all to see. But if you look close enough, you still find plenty of inspiration in the occasional awkward co-worker conversation, the pick-up line falling flat, the preppy guy pulling out a spray can and quickly doing a gangsta-looking graffiti on the wall, or even the busker I once saw who hummed while ‘performing’ public masturbation for spare change - perv with a sense of humor (I have yet to find a place for that character in one of my commercials...).

The Metro also has a way of forcing you into decisions that define you bluntly as either Nice Guy or Dick: ‘Should I take a minute to help this mother get her stroller up the stairs?’ ‘Should I interrupt my book to give change to this homeless dude?’ ‘Shall I actively not recognise that guy I met last week who really loves to talk about video game design?’ Or perhaps the most common: ‘Shall I pretend I didn’t notice this other person was going for that seat and quickly maneuver my way there first?’”

Monty Python

“When I was a kid one summer they played the entire Flying Circus in English on French TV. I recorded every episode on VHS and watched them over and over. I can’t think of anything so free form on TV today. Social commentary and philosophical meanderings wrapped in a fat layer of completely unfiltered comedic randomness.

So when I veer towards comedy, my mind often drifts towards Socrates scoring a header against the German philosophers, Graham Chapman wearing a massive fake nose, or John Cleese and Michael Palin in the argument clinic.

As a sidenote, special shout-out to The Goon Show, an amazing radio show from the 50s featuring Peter Sellers and Spike Milligan and which feels like a spiritual predecessor to Monty Python.”


“I read that when Rashomon played at the 1951 Venice Festival, Kurosawa was asked by a journalist what the film meant. His answer was that if he could answer that question in a couple sentences, he wouldn’t have bothered making the film.

Think I’m gonna start using that line on clients.”

Absurdist Literature

“I don’t read that much fiction but when I do it’s got to have some absurdity to it. Here are three that I love.

The Nose (1835) by Gogol, where a man wakes up only to find his nose has disappeared from his face. As he goes on a hunt for it, he finds that his nose has realised all of his own personal ambitions and climbed the ranks in19th century Russia.

Basically Russia’s 19th century equivalent to Charlie Kaufman.

Baron in the Trees (1957) by Italo Calvino, where a boy from an Italian aristocratic family has a tantrum and decides to go live in the trees for the rest of his life.

Always thought Terry Gilliam would eventually turn it into a film.

American Desert (2004) by Percival Everett, where a man gets his head cut off in a car accident. After morticians sew it back on for his eternal rest, the man wakes up at his funeral, sending the world in a panic.

Everett’s the head of the English department at USC. Gives me renewed faith in the US college system."

My Kids’ Drawings

“I’m sorry; I swear this is not me being a cheesy proud dad. It’s just that kids come up with some of the most amazing avant-garde shit. I’ve been inspired more than once by my girls’ concepts. Here are three examples:

1. ‘He’s trying to grab the red guy but he can’t because he doesn’t have any hands’ You can’t help but feel really sorry for the blue guy. He looks majorly bummed. But then again, if he did have arms what was he gonna do to the red guy?

2. ‘Bird looking at you’
Stop looking at me with a raised eyebrow, bird. I didn’t do nuthin’.

3. ‘Its a Rainbow that’s attacking a princess’ – Pixar have approached us about buying the rights to this one. I just hope the princess keeps that hairstyle if it ever does get adapted.”

Have a look for these influences on Arno's reel.

Creating Creatives

October 7, 2014 / Features

By Alex Reeves

How does the one oddball ad school consistently produce talented advertising professionals?

The School of Communication Arts is weird. Based on an upper floor of an old converted church in Brixton, there’s a distinctive community centre vibe about it. The studio is scruffy and open plan, with tables dotted around and groups of students working animatedly around laptops and notepads in casual groups. It couldn’t be further from the dusty libraries and lecture theatres of a traditional university. Yet it competes with every university in the country offering training in advertising. In fact, it beats them all. About 80 per cent of the school’s students get a job at a top-100 agency within six months of completing the course.

The school prides itself in being different from universities and its appearance is a clue. The atmosphere feels closer to an advertising agency than to a place of study. Having met the Dean, Marc Lewis, we’re sure that’s no accident. He told us exactly what SCA is and why, now in its sixth intake, he believes it’s the best place to prepare people for a career in creativity.

But how can creativity be taught? Many would see it as an innate talent – you’ve either got it or you don’t – but Marc and his school would disagree.

"I don't think creativity is any more innate than something like English,” says recent graduate Will Wells, currently on a placement at Wieden+Kennedy. “And yet this sense that creativity is unteachable prevails. Maybe it's perpetuated by 'creative' people worried at the thought that everyone can do it. I think it's a shame that a lot of people don't think they're creative at all; they convince themselves they don't have a capacity for it and so continues the notion that you're either creative or you're not. Luckily Marc doesn't share this view.” It’s helpful to think of creativity as a muscle, and SCA works it every day of the course.

Oli Rogers, another recent graduate now on a placement at AMV BBDO agrees that creativity is more than a genetic gift. “Creativity can absolutely be taught,” he says, “but not by being sat in a classroom or writing a load of essays. Obviously you need some talent to start off with, but hard work and perseverance make up about 95 per cent of advertising.”

Marc explains how these attitudes are put into practice at SCA. “It’s a very intense course,” he says. That sounds like an understatement. A three-year degree packed into ten months in the studio, followed by six months of placements is a daunting prospect, but the delivery of learning is completely different too. Their website reads: “We don’t behave like students, we are out-of-work creatives who want to become the very best talent of their generation. We don’t use text-books. There are no exams. We laugh at the idea of a dissertation.”

Based on the idea that the best way to learn a job is to do it, students at SCA work on briefs and stunts from day one. Like advertising professionals, not students. Along the way they receive advice and criticism from mentors working with them, drawn from a pool of over 700 industry professionals working in the industry, from copywriters to user experience experts.

Adam Newby, Will’s creative partner, insists that having done both undergraduate and masters degrees beforehand, nothing compares to SCA. “The course pushes you,” he says, “finds your limits. The teaching method – all mentors – may seem chaotic, but the course is put together with precision. While we were given a lot of freedom, there were some strict rules in place that drilled professionalism into us. We had to be at school by nine every morning, school hours ran the same as agency hours, the workload was huge and deadlines were deadlines. The course really does crunch three years into one.”

By the end of a frantic year they come to Portfolio Day, where their work is exhibited to perspective employers from agencies and six months’ worth of placements are arranged, which often lead to full-time jobs.

Naturally, Marc is proud of the school’s success in starting careers, but it’s easy to see why the school is top rated by the industry – it’s a part of it. “I think a lot of our secret sauce is how plugged in we are to our industry,” he says. A social enterprise owned by advertising agencies, their involvement with the people who work in advertising is far deeper than simply as source of graduates.

The school is supported by over 100 companies, mostly ad agencies, but there are experiential agencies, music agencies, media owners and tech companies in the family too. “They give us either money, knowledge or people,” explains Marc. “Those three things help us to create what we create.”

Money is vital, of course. Their financial sponsors keep the lights on and fund the scholarships – an integral part of the school’s ethos. Of 38 students in this year’s intake, he tells us that 11 are on scholarships. “That’s really important for us,” he says, “because we’re a very undiverse industry. We’re a very elite school but we want to be a very inclusive school.”

Redressing the imbalances of gender, class and ethnicity are goals the school is keen on pursuing, but they realise that you can’t entice people into an industry they have no idea exists. To tackle this, SCA recently started working with Commercial Break – an initiative that gives opportunities to underprivileged teenagers early on – while they’re still at school – so they can start working towards careers in communications early. Two of SCA’s current intake came from this programme – no giant leap, but a start in making sure the best talent flowing into advertising is from every background possible.

In fact, the school’s distinctive selection process is based partially upon their thirst for diversity. They say on their website, “We honestly couldn’t care less about your A-level results or your swimming certificates.” They select purely on character.

Oli describes the admissions process as “unlike anything I’ve experienced. An impromptu phone call several months after my online application, loaded with off-the-cuff questions ranging from the newspaper I read to stuff I did in my spare time,” he recalls. “After this stage I was invited to an interview day where I was instructed to ‘show my creativity on stage in four minutes.’ It was vague to say the least. I ended up making an omelette and then spent several gruelling hours working on a creative brief whilst being taken aside every now and then to answer questions from the in-house mentors. The end of the day was great. We were thrust in front of the current intake and asked to interrogate them about every single little detail about the school: good or bad. I respected Marc for that. I felt we got honest answers and I knew from then on that this was the school for me.”

Marc’s proud of the process. “We can come to a more accurate decision than ‘were they lucky enough to have come from a family that can get them into a good enough school, for example’ I don’t know that I agree that good grades necessarily make somebody bright. They might be able to store and regurgitate knowledge really well, but it doesn’t necessarily make them intelligent in the dimension that we’re looking for.”

SCA also relies on the industry for is knowledge. The school’s curriculum is run as a wiki and is continually changing according to what agencies are saying. “The industry are constantly feeding back to us what they want emerging talent to learn,” says Marc, “and our job is to aggregate or curate that knowledge, then transcribe it into an experience for the students. We’ll make sure the students are learning what agencies are telling us is currently relevant.”

Then the third way the industry supports the school is with people. The school maintains a network of over 700 volunteers, mostly from advertising agencies, who have signed up and committed to donating at least one day a year pro bono to come and share their knowledge and mentor the students.

Despite the careers they’ve started over their five years of teaching, SCA is still alone in its approach to teaching creativity. Marc wishes there were copycats out there though. “We want there to be a school like this for animation or creating video games or architecture. There should be lots of schools like this and I think one of my major frustrations is the inertia of industries coming forward to put money in a hat and start something like this. It’s so important for us as an industry PLC to create social enterprises that share the responsibility for preparing the next generation so that we can compete against our counterparts in Europe or America or India or wherever. So we would encourage it.”

Free-flowing creativity is misunderstood. One thing that SCA makes clear is that creatives are not born; they’re made. And, in Marc and his school’s view, a degree doth not a creative make, which is why students don’t receive any official qualification from the School of Communication arts, only the skills that earn them jobs. “The school makes you professional,” says Adam. “Despite its openness it really does create no-nonsense, hard-working creatives, used to a heavy workload. Juggling briefs is nothing new to an SCA grad. Neither are long hours.” What more could agencies ask for?

High Five: October

October 6, 2014 / High Five

By Alex Reeves

Some top-class advertising to restore your faith in the industry.

Good advertising deals in the new and the different. But some of our rundown of this month’s best advertising features some familiar ideas, proving that with the right approach and a good helping of flair, familiar ideas can still be powerful.

Brand: Channel 4 / Cancer Research UK
Title: It’s Payback Time
Production Company: Nexus Productions
Director: Smith & Foulkes
Production Company Producer: Tracey Cooper
Ad Agency: 4Creative
Creative Director: Chris Bovill
Art Director: Daniel Burgess
Creative: Pablo Gonzalez de la Pena
Agency Producer: Shananne Lane
Editing Company: Trim
Editor: Paul Hardcastle
Music Company: SIREN
Music Producers: Sean Atherton, Siân Rogers
Sound Company: Factory
Sound Designers: Tom Joyce, Dan Beckwith, Anthony Moore

Channel 4 / Cancer Research UK – It’s Payback Time

Delivering a contagious apocalypse to city of cancerous cells is quite an odd idea for a commercial promoting an anti-cancer comedy fundraising event, but then neither Channel 4 or Cancer Research UK have been playing by the rules for quite some time with their advertising. It’s a strangely violent idea, focusing on anger more than the usual sympathy, but if you can’t hate cancer what can you hate? And of course Smith & Foulkes have brought this malignant civilisation to life in beautiful detail. It really gets you hyped up for some good-natured cancer bashing.


Brand: Leica
Title: 100
Production Company: Stink
Director: Jones+Tino
Production Company Producer: Victoria Martinez
Director of Photography: Bjorn Charpentier
Ad Agency: F/Nazca Saatchi & Saatchi
Creative Director: Fabio Fernandes, Eduardo Lima
Creatives: Bruno Oppido, Romero Cavalcanti, Thiago Carvalho
Agency Producer: Victor Alloza
Sound Company: Satélite Áudio
Sound Designers: Fernanda Costa, Marina Castilho
Post Production Company: Casablanca Effects

Leica – 100

It may seem slightly arrogant to claim that every iconic photograph recreated in this film was taken because of Leica, but despite its heavy-handedness, the voiceover makes a fair point. Released in 1913, the Leica was the first practical 35mm camera that used standard cinema 35mm film, allowing photographers vastly more mobility. But whatever you think of the message, you have to applaud the execution. Jones+Tino cleverly weave some of history’s most significant photographs together into an intriguing montage. You can even test your photographic knowledge for a bit of fun and see how many you can name.


Brand: Philips
Title: How Many Years Does it Take to Change a Lightbulb?
Production Company: UNIT9
Director: Martin Stirling
Production Company Producer: Dale Healy
Director of Photography: Carl Burke
Ad Agency: IRIS Worldwide
Creative Directors: Chris Baylis, Matt Hallet
Creatives: Pete Sanna, Matt Weston
Editing Company: UNIT9
Editor: Alex Burt

Philips – How Many Years Does it Take to Change a Lightbulb?

These compressed history concepts do wheel around pretty frequently, but that’s because they’re so useful for brands, allowing assert the idea that they fit into the bigger picture – that they’re playing the long game. This one is beautifully realised by Martin Stirling and the clever folks at UNIT9, seamlessly passing through a series of easily identifiable decades. It’s certainly a neat idea, expertly made. Whether colour-variable lighting like this will catch on is less certain, but it looks pretty cool.


Brand: RFU
Title: Team Talk
Production Company: Academy Films
Director: Peter Cattaneo
Production Company Producer: Juliette Harris
Director of Photography: Ben Fordesman
Ad Agency: BBH Sport
Creative Director: Ewan Paterson
Creatives: Lewis Mooney, Ed Cole
Agency Producer: Davud Karbassioun
Editing Company: The Quarry
Editor: Scot Crane
Sound Company: Wave Studios
Post Production Company: The Mill

RFU – Team Talk

This commercial is actually a very simple idea, to the credit of its creators. But that doesn’t make it easy to pull off. It rests largely on one thing – the acting chops of Mr Charles Dance, currently best known as Machiavellian family man Tywin Lannister in Game of Thrones. Armed with a great script, he’s managed to deliver his speech with just the right balance of gravitas and humour – a difficult mix to master. He’s definitely much easier to like here than his counterpart in Westeros.


Brand: Volkswagen
Title: Priorities
Production Company: Outsider
Director: James Rouse
Production Company Producer: Benji Howell
Director of Photography: Tim Maurice-Jones
Ad Agency: adam&eveDDB
Creative Director: Jeremy Craigen
Creatives: Nikki Lindman, Toby Brewer
Agency Producer: Panos Louca
Editing Company: Work Post
Editor: Neil Smith
Music Supervision: SIREN
Music Supervisors: Sean Atherton, Siân Rogers
Sound Company: Factory
Sound Designer: Anthony Moore
Post Production Company: MPC

Volkswagen – Priorities

This idea is pretty low-key too, focusing on the small sacrifices fathers make for their children. But of course they’ve got the right director for the job in James Rouse – a man who’s made a name for himself over the past year or so as the master of understated, empathetic comedy. There are no gags, just a series of familiar scenes, recreated in a way we can all recognise. Mr Everyman is well cast and does a great job at subtly conveying the little emotions we can all identify with.