But what I really want to do is direct." That plea, long a staple of movie star interviews, seems to be circulating at advertising agencies these days. In the last year or two, a number of high-profile ad shop executives have left comfortable, reasonably secure jobs at agencies to plunge headlong into the competitive waters of full-time commercial directing.
Generally, they are art directors, copywriters or creative directors who have, one way or another, been able to direct some spots, and found the experience to be exhilarating and even fun. Some, like Chuck Bennett and Clay Williams, formerly managing partners/creative directors at TBWA/Chiat/Day, Los Angeles, found that the higher they climbed at the agency, the less time they had for the things they liked to do—namely, create ads. The two now direct as a team called Chuck & Clay, out of Crossroads Films, bicoastal and Chicago. For others, like Larry Frey, Paul Gold and John Adams, a love of filmmaking prompted the jump. Frey, a founding partner of Amsterdam agency 180, now directs spots through bicoastal/international @radical.media; Gold, formerly of Bozell, New York, is now at The Story Companies, bicoastal, Chicago and Dallas; and Adams, formerly director of broadcast production at DDB Dallas, is at bicoastal Area 51 Films. And Bob Kerstetter, co-founder/co-creative director at agency Black Rocket, San Francisco, has learned that directing his own work is the best way to see it completed the way he wants it. However, Kerstetter has no plans to jump over from the agency to the production house side of the commercialmaking fence.
To a man, the six believe that their agency background and experience have made them better directors. "I believe that there are great advantages to coming out of the agency system," Frey says, "because I think you understand the neuroses that are going on. I empathize with those concerns and neuroses. I think you better understand the strategies. You are more aware of the copy and the integration of the copy and the picture than a lot of directors are."
Frey cut his directing teeth at Wieden+Kennedy, Portland, Ore., before founding 180. His first spots were for a Portland radio station, using footage shot during an interview with singer-songwriter Randy Newman. "It was just budgetary," says Frey. "We thought, ‘Do we really want to pull a director in for this kind of thing?’ The budget was about ten or twelve thousand dollars."
Frey’s big directing break came in 1993, when the shooting of Subaru’s "Factory" was going badly. President/creative director Dan Wieden and executive producer Bill Davenport turned to Frey. "They said, ‘Larry, why don’t you get a camera and just start shooting footage yourself,’ " Frey recalls. "We were shooting in a factory and we ended up using all my footage. It won a lot of awards. It was the first spot that featured floating type on the imagery. It was kind of a landmark in its day. It was, I think, the first time people had shot a factory in a real documentary kind of way."
Adams moved into directing from his production job at DDB, but he started his career as an art director. Having seen hundreds of directors in action, he counts his agency experience as a big plus that many of them lack. "I used to see a lot of directors get frustrated or angry when clients would want to change things or suddenly a script would change at the last minute," he recalls. "Directors like to get locked into things. I think I’m able to stay more flexible because I’m accustomed to that process. I also think it helps in post, because I tend to shoot for the edit. I can remember so many times being with the editor and wishing we’d covered another shot."
Collaboration
Adams says he gets calls from some agencies that have come back to him for repeat business, when they are still concepting. "That, to me, is the highest compliment," he states. Adams’ first directing job was at DDB, and he calls it a complete fluke. A production assistant had promised a client more than its budget could afford. Adams put out bids for crew members, most of whom offered their time gratis under the mistaken impression that Adams was going to direct—so he did. "It wasn’t something I sought or planned on doing," he notes. "It just sort of happened. Then we had a small campaign come through for the Dallas Morning News, and I got to shoot that as well. Again, it was a situation where they didn’t have a lot of money. That sort of gave me a reel. I did two or three other jobs while I was still at DDB, and then that led to going out and signing with a production company." Since moving into directing full-time, Adams has helmed numerous ads, such as McIlhenny Co. Tabasco’s "Tattoo," out of DDB Dallas.
Before becoming a directing team, Bennett and Williams were a creative duo for eight years at TBWA/Chiat/Day, and both say their agency experience helps them collaborate more closely with the creatives who bring them work today. Since leaving the agency world, the two have directed several ads, including "Covers" and "Back Again" for McDonald’s, out of DDB Chicago, as well as spots for Dr Pepper and Sun Drop.
"We’re totally into being collaborative," says Williams. "We know what it’s like to be on the other side. We know what it’s like to work with directors who send you off and want you to be as far away as you can be. And we also know the [agency approach], which is sitting with the director and hanging out and working on it as a team, and that’s when it’s best."
Work comes in tested and approved, Williams continues, but still with room for improvement and fine-tuning. "The basic ideas come to us, but one of the benefits that a lot of people see is that we can really help ‘plus’ the ideas, from a conceptual level as well as from an executional level," he points out.
Budgets played a role in their early ads at the agency, Bennett recalls. The first was an Energizer promotional spot for ESPN with virtually no budget. They started to call in reels, but decided they could do it themselves. That was about a year ago and the boys were, in Bennett’s words, "totally smitten." Six months went by before their next job, Energizer’s "Elvis," in which a gas pump jockey misses a chance to get a shot of Elvis gassing up, because the camera’s batteries are dead. "There was a decent budget, but all the money went into the licensing and rights for the Elvis name and image," Bennett explains. "We thought, ‘We can do this. Let’s put the money into the production, and into all the rights and licensing.’ And there was some Taco Bell stuff that came up that the client was very willing to let us direct simply because it felt we would be totally on the case and totally involved with its account as opposed to being off somewhere else. At that point, we were completely hooked and we decided, ‘O.K., we have to do this for real.’ "
Gold studied film at UCLA, though he didn’t graduate, and turned to a "real job" in advertising shortly after getting married. His work at agencies, most recently as senior VP/associate creative director/executive producer at Bozell, prepared him well for directing, he says. "Agency people who become directors do have an incredible sensibility and understanding and knowledge of what makes a good commercial and a not-good commercial," he says. "That’s quite an asset. We have a certain knowledge of what everybody, from the creative director, the art director, the writer, the account person, the producer, has to do. The worst place for directors to get killed is in the editing. The people who come from the agency side understand that if you have to overshoot something, you overshoot it. If you have to do a shot, do the shot. He or she knows what’s needed in the editing room."
Gold, who has helmed ads for Pfizer, such as "Swimmers" via Bozell, says that agencies he works for appreciate his creative input. "I always come in with my knowledge as a creative to help the spot creatively, not just execute it," he notes.
Gold’s first directing jobs at Bozell were budget driven, he says, but it soon became clear to him that directing his own work was a good way to see it executed the way he envisioned it. That same idea is expressed by Kerstetter, who regularly directs spots for his agency, Black Rocket. His most recent work is a package of ads for fusionOne, which consists of the spots "Park," "Diner," "Underwear Man" and "Destiny." While he enjoys helming commercials, Kerstetter has no plans to leave his agency. "I think it’s sort of a natural thing to have happen," he says of wanting to direct. "I don’t think there is a creative alive who hasn’t said, ‘Gee, wouldn’t it be cool to just do it ourselves?’ I could never, ever imagine just writing a play and giving it to someone and saying, ‘Here, direct it.’ Most creatives, whether they admit it or not, want to be involved all the way through."
Kerstetter first tried directing with Erich Joiner, who now directs out of his own company, bicoastal Tool of North America, when both were creatives at Goodby, Silverstein & Partners, San Francisco. "I wrote and directed some spots for MTV with Eric about seven years ago," he recalls. "It was the first thing he directed as well. … We had so much fun doing it. We literally took vacation time to do it. And we were both, ‘Oh my God, we’ve got to do this.’ "
Kerstetter says he’s been approached by production companies, but has declined all outside work. The only thing that will get him away from the agency is the chance to direct feature films. "All of this stuff is [in order] to one day, soon, get into film," he says. "As much as I love ads, I love film more."
Hurdles
While the agency execs who have made the jump to full-time directing say their earlier experience is a big plus, some suggest that there are a few hurdles to overcome, especially right after the switch.
"Coming from an agency background, you can really overwork the stuff," Frey says. "You know inside and out the way it all works. I really think you can stifle your work. You can also be too ‘ad-ey.’ That’s the greatest thing I struggle against. The great directors all give the illusion that their work is spontaneous or fluid or something like that, and not ad-ey looking. The danger of coming out of the agency system is that you can just be a bit of a hack because everything to you is an ad."
A bit of professional envy can also contribute to problems when an agency person first hops the fence. "I know a lot of agency guys probably hate me," comments Frey, who recently completed a campaign for Northwest Airlines. "Maybe it’s a competitive thing, or maybe they say, ‘He doesn’t know shit about directing. He’s just an agency guy. No way am I going to let that guy touch my script, just because he was an agency guy.’ There’s some weird stuff going on out there. The agency background thing is going to become less and less important as the months go by. Right now, I’m Larry Frey, the ex-agency guy who became a director. A year from now nobody’s going to remember."
Adams agrees with Frey’s assessment that after a few months, the agency tag is no longer a hindrance. "At the very first," he says, "people would look at you and go, ‘Oh, he’s an agency guy. What makes him qualified to be a director?’ For the first six months or so that’s an issue, but after that, if you’re working, no one cares anymore."
Bennett warns that friends from the agency are the last people to hire you. "Nothing personal, but those people don’t think of us really as directors yet," he observes. "Before we get any work out of TBWA/ Chiat/Day, it’s going to be after we have much more of a reel."
Gold states it a little more strongly: "There’s a bit of a jealousy factor that enters," he explains. "Everybody says that when you leave, you’re not going to get work from your friends so quickly; they’re probably so jealous of you. And that’s the truth. There’s a feeling like that. There’s always a bit of a hurdle because you’re from the agency side and you have to prove yourself. I find it odd that someone who has worked with incredible directors for years and who knows what a good commercial is, will have that hurdle, [while] someone who has done a music video can fall into doing commercials with less of a hurdle."µ