Last weekend we saw a wonderful movie, The Eye of the Storm, Fred Schepisi’s interpretation of Patrick White’s novel starring Charlotte Rampling and Geoffrey Rush. And it set me off thinking about advertising creativity.
I remembered, as a junior writer in one of the big agencies, when Fred learned the film business through making TV commercials.
In the agency we would meticulously hone the script, each word and visual hammered out between the creatives and the clients, till we had a script - dry and typical of a committee effort.
Fred would be called in, as the hottest young director in the country, and be drilled about the requirements word for word.
Then he would disappear. No thanks, he didn’t want the agency or the client at the shoot or edit. The first thing we saw was the rough cut, when the commercial was 95 per cent made.
Client and agency would gather in the darkened boardroom to view. Surprise - the film seemed to have little connection to our careful script. The voice-over had been cut from fifty words to five. He at least allowed us to see a pack shot at the end.
Anyone from client or agency who objected was met by a torrent of expletives from the director, who then asked: “Is this better than you wanted?” And we all had to agree, it was brilliant. He had captured the real meaning of what we wanted to say and delivered a powerful message for the product.
He was quite unreasonable in ignoring agency protocols. But as I quoted in last week’s column, “All progress depends on unreasonable people”.
One of the greatest ad men of recent times, Britain’s David Abbott, built his agency AMV-BBDO through outstanding creative work. He showed how to turn the slowness of Guiness pouring into a virtue, and even made a supermarket classy through his Sainsbury’s ads (alas a feat that has never been emulated here).
In the process he made his millions, but refused to compromise. As he recently said in an interview with American adman Rance Crain, “Most of the talk in the advertising business is about clients picking agencies. I think it's just as important for agencies to pick clients."
He wanted clients who respected and listened to him. "Every client we picked and agreed to work with - it was not only that we wanted their money, but we wanted their company as well. We chose people we liked, for whom advertising seemed to be an important, upfront part of their business."
This was the philosophy that made The Campaign Palace a success, first in Melbourne and then also in Sydney. Founders Lionel Hunt and Gordon Trembath made a reputation for not compromising on the creativity. So they needed clients who would trust them.
The ads they made were risky. “Some day you’re gonna get caught with your pants down” showed Dunlop’s Pacific Brands that saucy ads could attract the public’s attention far greater than the media spend available.
The ads that followed like “I’m wearing No Nickers” and “Antz Pantz (sic ‘em Rex!)” proved the point.
In the early years clients like Just Jeans and P&O (“Heron Island - Just a drop in the ocean”) were successful because people remembered the ads.
Says Trembath: “If you're clearly presenting memorable uncompromised work that's so obviously going to brand that client a hero, you're going to be loved forever for your uncompromising stance."
However the hard part is getting to that point of trust.
Once you’re as famous as Schepisi or Abbott or Palace, you can persuade the clients that bending to your will is going to make them rich and famous.
But until then the major job to be done is selling yourself.
ray@ebeatty.com
Blog: themarketeer-raybeatty.blogspot.com
