So many of today’s working directors who began their careers shooting traditional :30 spots are struggling to adapt to a marketplace that nowadays requires the ability to craft compelling content for the Internet as well if one is to stay relevant. For director Tommy Means, founder of San Francisco’s Mekanism, that isn’t an issue. He made a name for himself as a director on the viral front before adding commercials to his credits. “One of my first projects was a viral film before I think there even was such a thing called viral,” Means recalls.
The first viral campaign that brought him recognition was a direct-for-client effort for SEGA of America’s Super Monkey Ball Deluxe in 2005 that went on to win a Gold Lion at the Cannes International Advertising Festival. Conceptualized and directed by Means, a series of webisodes, which are still featured on the website www.mybigball.com, center on a college kid named Chad who chooses to live his life inside a clear ball–just like a monkey does in his favorite video game.
“I really like absurdity and ridiculousness with very subtle packaging,” Means says. “I think that’s the one thing across the board that people see in my work and like.”
Another example of Means entertainingly absurd aesthetic: a viral for Gametap out of Mullen Advertising, Wenham, Mass., titled “Mexican Puppet Theater” that has an old man putting on a puppet show with Pac Man characters. The viral got so much attention, it was later cut and run as a traditional TV commercial.
Right now, Means is making waves on both the Internet and television with Microsoft’s “Clearification” campaign via McCann Erickson, New York, touting the Windows Vista operating system. The focal point of the campaign is a website called “Clearification” hosting a series of webisodes chronicling comedian Demetri Martin’s visit to a peculiar institute–think zany scientists, big water bottles and taxidermy animals–where he searches for clarity. Means wrote the films with Martin. “We started with this notion of clarity and that so many people suffer from being over cluttered either in their lives or with their computers,” Means explains, noting, “The storyline served as a metaphor for the operating system, for the brand promise.”
The webisodes are not a hard sell by any means–we spot a few computer screens here and there, and the Windows Vista logo sits at the bottom of the web page on which we see the films. Means respects Microsoft for seeing the value in focusing on entertaining people. “I personally see so much branded entertainment out there where there is too much brand and not enough entertainment,” Means says.
The quirky films warrant repeat viewings. Means and Martin made sure of that. “Our rule was there could never be just one joke onscreen. There had to be something in the background, or the angling had to be askew, or there had to be some interesting production design element,” Means explains.
Means didn’t just pay attention to the crafting of the films and the accompanying commercials promoting the campaign. He also gave his input to the illustrator who drew the animated version of Martin we see between each film making small talk. Means realized that the audience would need something to keep them entertained in between the release of webisodes. “The directors of the future are going to have to start thinking like that, thinking strategically and how can I make this thing more engaging and more viral,” Means says.
Means’ recent output also included the Nike + iPod commercial “Motivation.” Created directly for Nike, with Means as the creative director, the spot opens on a man sitting in his living room. He is dressed and ready to go out for a run, but it seems like the motivation just isn’t there. Then he clicks on his iPod, and listening to OK Go’s power pop track “Here It Goes Again,” the guy begins jogging on a giant treadmill placed in front of a projection screen. As he moves along, we see him run through a suburban neighborhood. Each time he picks up speed and takes his run to another level, he literally bursts through a wall placed in front of him and the scenery behind him changes.
Means based the spot, which plays like a piece of intense performance art, on an Argentinian stage show called Fuerza Bruta. “I wanted to keep the rawness and the energy of that show,” Means reflects, “and if it meant that it wasn’t the most beautifully color-corrected thing, I like that because it made you feel like you were sitting there in the audience.”
“Motivation” is markedly different from anything else Means has done. “I’ve always wanted to do something like that–something big and exciting and theatrical,” Means enthuses. That said, Means isn’t going to give up on the type of work he has done before. “If I were to say there’s one thing on my reel that is a true reflection of my sensibilities and who I am, it’s the Demetri Martin stuff. I think that is just as intense, and it is just as exciting and thrilling to do a comedic dialogue scene.”
Means continues: “That to me is way more challenging than doing the big, multi-camera visual-effects laden stuff. Trying to get the minutae of a performance that takes somebody on an unexpected turn is such an intense craft. If there was a day I could kind of blend the two, that would be ideal.”
Review: Writer-Director Mark Anthony Green’s “Opus”
In the new horror movie "Opus," we are introduced to Alfred Moretti, the biggest pop star of the '90s, with 38 No. 1 hits and albums as big as "Thriller," "Hotel California" and "Nebraska." If the name Alfred Moretti sounds more like a personal injury attorney from New Jersey, that's the first sign "Opus" is going to stumble.
John Malkovich leans into his regular off-kilter creepy to play the unlikely pop star at the center of this serious misfire by the A24 studio, a movie that also manages to pull "The Bear" star Ayo Edebiri back to earth. How both could be totally miscast will haunt your dreams.
Writer-director Mark Anthony Green has created a pretty good premise: A massive pop star who went quiet for the better part of three decades reemerges with a new album — his 18th studio LP, called "Caesar's Request" — and invites a select six people to come to his remote Western compound for an album listening weekend. It's like a golden ticket.
Edebiri's Ariel is a one of those invited. She's 27, a writer for a hip music magazine who has been treading water for three years. She's ambitious but has no edge. "Your problem is you're middle," she's told. Unfortunately, her magazine boss is also invited, which means she's just a note-taker. Edebiri's self-conscious, understated humor is wasted here.
It takes Ariel and the rest of the guests — an influencer, a paparazzo, a former journalist-nemesis and a TV personality played by Juliette Lewis, once again cast as the frisky sexpot — way too much time to realize that Moretti has created a cult in the desert. And they're murderous. This is Cameron Crowe's "Almost Famous" crossed with Mark Mylod's "The Menu."
It's always a mistake to get too close a look at the monster in a horror... Read More