SALT.TV managing director Aziza Bhatia draws raw parallels between production and childbirth, exploring how the beautiful chaos of both requires a village
Motherhood in advertising has long been an unspoken challenge – a career-defining crossroads where ambition is too often questioned, and support systems fall short. And while the industry has made progress in acknowledging the realities of working parents, tangible change is still slow, leaving many mothers to navigate the journey alone.
In this instalment of Motherland in Adland – the series founded by NERD’s Milana Karaica in partnership with LBB – we hear from Aziza Bhatia, EP and managing director at SALT.TV.
She reflects on her 25-year career in independent production, navigating the lack of maternity support within SMEs and the stark financial realities of raising a family on statutory pay. Here, she explores the raw parallels between the “beautiful chaos” of raising teenage girls and the grueling but deeply rewarding process of bringing a creative campaign to life, reminding us that both take a village.
Please take what I say with a pinch of salt.. but as a mum, EP and MD of SALT.TV I’ve learnt a few things over the years about juggling the world of advertising with the beautiful chaos of raising children and have noticed some similarities.
All I have ever known is the world of production, and by default, working in SMEs. My 25 year long career has been with one foot in each of these camps. When it comes to having a baby, neither camp is particularly progressive. Maternity leave is not commonplace in SMEs. It’s very much a case of what the business can afford and with an industry so heavily invested in young, up and coming talent, full time roles are hard to come by, let alone maternity packages. I was one of the majority, relying on the government statutory maternity weekly pay of £130 (as it was then) to help me buy nappies. Better than a kick in the teeth I thought.
To me personally, producing ads is much like the process of giving birth. Endorphins take over and the pain is far too easily forgotten. The late-night client calls, the exhaustion, the budget ‘can we even afford this? To the team wide wonder as to ‘when on earth will this all be over?’ But the light at the end of the tunnel is, the result, the baby… And I don’t mean the KPIs. It’s the material product and the act of production that makes it all worthwhile.
Production teams and production crew are like family. If we are lucky enough to get through the ups and downs of a production, we are on an all-time high, together. Celebrations when you win a job, celebrations when you wrap a job, with a rather painful bit in between! Making an ad is much like raising a child, it takes a village. It’s a hugely emotional experience, at the end of which, you are just grateful to have been given the chance. The people involved make you raise your game, as your kids do.
Now, however, as a 49 year old woman and mum of two teenage girls, I see things differently. I get so much back as a mum and EP. Both lines of work continue to be hugely challenging and the juggle of both simultaneously can oftentimes take you to the brink.
But at the end of the day, I know that I am SO lucky, despite all the odds, to be doing what I do. The stressful moments are made up for by the beauty of what we have made and the massive pleasure of being around those amazing humans who helped us through the hard times.
Childbirth is a leveller in the same way as creativity is a leveller. It’s in those times of sheer basic need that we are all equal, that we all reach out to ask for help or to help without being asked. And I hope that we do more of that in life generally, especially now.
In this instalment of the series, Victoria Azarian, fractional CCO and brand strategy partner, reflects on how leading with intuition – not rigid ambition – shaped her journey through creative leadership, adoption, single motherhood and redefining success
Motherhood in advertising has long been an unspoken challenge – a career-defining crossroads where ambition is too often questioned, and support systems fall short. And while the industry has made progress in acknowledging the realities of working parents, tangible change is still slow, leaving many mothers to navigate the journey alone.
In this instalment of Motherland in Adland – the series founded by NERD’s Milana Karaica in partnership with LBB – we hear from Victoria Azarian, fractional chief creative officer and brand strategy partner.
Victoria reflects on a career guided by instinct, curiosity and creative courage. From leading award-winning AI work to challenging outdated norms around motherhood and adoption, she shares how intuition shaped her most meaningful choices. Her story is a reminder that redefining success on your own terms isn’t naïve – it’s powerful. Especially when it makes space for presence, care and long-lasting impact.
I never had a plan. No five-year plan. No 10-year vision. No carefully plotted ladder for my career or my life.
Maybe that sounds naïve. For a long time, I worried that it was. Everyone else seemed to know exactly where they were going. Married by 30, kids by 32, executive creative director in six years. That wasn’t me.
What I had instead was a sensitivity to feeling. I knew when something felt right and when it didn’t. I followed the work that energised me, the rooms where I felt most alive, and the people I admired and who admired me, not just for their creative output, but for shared values. They weren’t just coworkers. They were supporters. Friends. Allies.
“I followed the work that energised me, the rooms where I felt most alive”
Over time, I learned to recognise the difference between those who were truly in my corner and those who were simply benefiting from my effort. I was deeply trusting early on, and that trust was sometimes misplaced. But those moments became my greatest teachers. They sharpened my intuition and taught me to listen more closely to my instincts. Learning to trust my gut became my greatest strength.
Early in my career as a young creative director, success was conventional: big account, bigger title, a seat on a Cannes Lions jury, more money. I was one of only a few women creative leaders on the biggest account at the agency, surrounded mostly by men. It felt lonely, outside the boys’ club. Sometimes the doubt was loud and direct. “Women suck at design”. Other times it was quieter, framed as a “just checking in,” as if to measure my effort rather than support it. Yet, there was one leader who truly saw me. He took me under his wing, offered guidance when I needed it most, and spoke up for me in rooms I wasn’t in. I’m forever grateful to Lou for that support.
Either way, belief from others or even from myself wasn’t always there. Perhaps because I didn’t fully trust myself yet, and they sensed it. I learned to push anyway, stepping forward before I felt ready, trusting that confidence would follow action.
“I learned to push anyway, stepping forward before I felt ready, trusting that confidence would follow action.”
When the best briefs didn’t land on my desk, I took the ones others passed on. When my ideas were ignored, I made a point of getting them seen. I found my voice and with it, made both the work and me harder to overlook. I was once told by the CEO of a big agency, in a global leadership meeting, that I asked too many questions. It was embarrassing, and I felt small, but I didn’t let it show. I understand now that those questions were how I learned, challenged assumptions, and ultimately became the leader I am today.
When I led teams, I didn’t dictate. I didn’t judge. I guided. I coached what I learned to share knowledge. I gave people space to explore and grow on their own, leading with kindness. Together, we did work that was brave, thoughtful, and meaningful.
I experimented early with AI for a tech brand before it was familiar or safe. A thinking dress that went on to win multiple awards and is now on permanent display at The Henry Ford Museum of Innovation. That led to bigger questions of how to scale an idea. As a systems thinker, I helped create a living, AI-driven sculpture at Mobile World Congress imagined as the final chapter of Gaudí’s Sagrada Familia, developed alongside historians and architects devoted to preserving its legacy. That thinking evolved into a cognitive dance party that raised an AI-powered sun at dawn, responding to the movement of the crowd.
Each experience was different, but together they taught me something essential: how to translate complex technology into something people could feel, participate in, and remember. I wasn’t chasing awards or trends. I was following curiosity and in doing so, I created some of the work I’m still most proud of.
Through all this, my then husband and I adopted a baby from Armenia, the home of my ancestors.
I didn’t have a strategy for how motherhood would fit into my career. I just knew I wasn’t willing to disappear. At that time, many women were encouraged to “just take a break.” I didn’t have that option. There was no adoption policy. No paid time off because I hadn’t physically given birth. No health insurance for my family. I was terrified.
Once again, I let my intuition lead.
Everything about that moment required trust. Trust in myself, trust in my voice, trust that doing the right thing would matter even if it wasn’t easy. HR offered no solutions. Either take unpaid leave or quit was the advice. They assumed I wouldn’t return.
That was when I understood something clearly for the first time: intuition wasn’t just how I made decisions. It was my way forward.
My intuition told me this wasn’t fair and that staying silent would only reinforce it. When I finally spoke up, voice shaking and palms sweating, my creative leader, Andy, responded in a way I hadn’t expected. He didn’t just help me in that moment; he changed the policy to include all adopted children, setting a precedent for those who came after. It was bold and kind and I am forever grateful to him for this. It reminded me that progress often begins by listening inward and that speaking up can create change far beyond yourself.
After I returned to work a few years later, life shifted again.
Divorce. Single motherhood.
No shared logistics or emotional load. Just me and an extraordinary nanny who became a second mother to my daughter. Together, we found a rhythm. It wasn’t perfect but what part of motherhood is?
There were nights I brought my daughter into late edits and weekend sessions. She sat under my desk with a blanket, a bag of Polly Pockets, sometimes watching ‘Little Bear’ on her iPad. She was quiet. She was safe. She was with me.
Someone reported me to HR. I kept doing it anyway.
Children don’t learn resilience from perfection. They learn it from presence. My daughter saw what I did. She understood the responsibility of being there. She listened to conversations and debates she didn’t fully understand at the time, but they stayed with her. Those moments informed how she thinks, how she listens, and who she is today.
Around that same time, I raised my hand for a newly acquired brand no one else wanted. Period products. An Incontinence brand. What I used to shorthand as “everything below the belt.” I worried it might derail my career. Instead of avoiding discomfort, I chose to face it, and built a team that felt the same, bringing deeply stigmatized categories into the open with honesty, empathy, and boldness.
I brought my daughter into that mission with me. She stood beside us as we spoke openly about bodies and cycles, about something half the world experiences and too often learns to hide. There was pride in that moment. And a quiet sense of rightness.Years later, that work still echoes through the industry. It challenged norms and made people uncomfortable in the ways that matter.
In parallel, I kept growing too. Intuitively, I knew that chapter was complete not because something was broken, but because something else was calling.
After 15 years at the same agency, that calling led me into experiential work as a chief creative officer. Live experiences. Super Bowl moments. Music. Immersive brand worlds. I moved into a sunlit office in Tribeca and thought, I made it. It felt like a scene from ‘Working Girl’.
“I moved into a sunlit office, I made it. It felt like a scene from ‘Working Girl’. Two months later, the world shut down.”
Two months later, the world shut down. It was February 2020. Covid hit
Live experiences disappeared overnight. We pivoted to digital, rebuilding in real time and learning faster than ever. It was devastating and transformative.
By the end of 2021, the holding company decided live experiences were no longer essential. And set to dissolve the experiential company. I had to carry out massive layoffs for people I had never even met. The energy shifted. I felt horrible. I was offered a role at another of their agencies, but my gut told me it wasn’t right. While safe and familiar, it was misaligned.
Then, exactly at this time, a call came from a colleague from years ago.
“I need you. You’re the only one who can do this.”
It wasn’t about rescuing something broken or stepping into familiarity. It was an invitation to build, this time from the inside. To move in-house to expand an in-house agency. I felt excited because it was unknown. It gave me the chance to bring everything I’d learned about creativity, leadership, and integration into a place where I could be involved early in shaping the product itself, not just the marketing output. It was like a billion-dollar startup, fast-moving, ambitious, and new territory for me that made it both daunting and energizing.
When I stepped into the role of head of creative at an in-house agency, I arrived confident and was quickly humbled. I didn’t know what I didn’t know and the best advice came from one of the marketing leads Kait, “Listen to learn not to solve the problem alone”. I took it to heart, because it was the opposite of the agency world I’d come from where we were hired to solve the marketing brief immediately.
Creativity expanded again. I learned how to create demand for something that didn’t yet exist, how to build social currency before launch, and how to sell products out in weeks. For the first time, I felt a different kind of pride, standing in Target, seeing something tangible on the shelf, knowing it existed because of decisions we made early and with care of the consumer.
Photo credit: Greg Swales
And then came a harder truth. The role soon required super-commuting between New York and Boston three-four days a week. At that moment in my life, when my daughter needed steadiness more, I knew it wasn’t sustainable. Letting go wasn’t easy. There are still moments I wonder if it was the right choice. But at the time it was.
Some people choose to stay in one type of place and hone one craft. I respect that deeply. I’ve always preferred to explore.
Joan Didion once wrote, “I’ve already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be.” I understand that now.
“I’ve already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be.” — Joan Didion
Today, I work directly with brands as a Fractional Chief Creative and Brand strategy Partner. I build creative strategy through execution, partnering with CMOs, marketing leads and teams to create work that works.
So how do I measure success?
Not by titles. Not by popularity or awards. Not even by money, although money doesn’t hurt.
Success, for me, has always been doing what feels right. Now that my daughter is in college, I have more freedom and deep gratitude for how far we’ve come. When you lead with integrity and choose care over fear, goodness follows. Opportunities follow, sometimes slowly, sometimes in unexpected forms. And once I learned to trust my intuition fully, it became my clearest way forward.
For a story about my adoption journey ‘Three Little Stars’ Available on Amazon.
That belief sits at the heart of NERD Productions and the woman who founded it, Milana Karaica. In an industry that often struggled to reflect the diversity of the world it was speaking to, Milana set out to create something different: a space where creativity is shaped by many voices, backgrounds, and experiences.
Over the years, NERD has grown into more than a production company. It has become a community, a support system, and a platform for artists who might not have otherwise been given the opportunity to be seen or heard.Through HER Vision, HER Voice, and HER Future, Milana Karaica reflects on the beginnings of NERD, the values that shaped it, and the legacy she hopes to leave for the generations that will follow.
Part I: HER History
1. Before starting NERD Productions, what was the gap you saw that others weren’t acknowledging in the industry and thus gave you the idea to create NERD? What did you experience personally that made you want to build something different?
I think having grown up in advertising, it was a real eye opener that we live in such a multicultural and diverse city. It’s one of the most diverse cities in the world, yet the advertising industry was the least diverse thing that I’d ever experienced. People generally tend to come from the same social and economic backgrounds, same ethnicity, same experiences, which doesn’t make for a very healthy or very interesting storytelling. If we all align and have the same thinking, it’s very difficult to craft something that is extraordinary or stands out or has a wide appeal. And since we’re advertisers and need to be talking to a range of audiences on an authentic level globally, it never really made sense in my eyes that the industry was that way.
If you come from a different background, ethnicity, or sexual orientation, anybody that didn’t fit those stereotypes, it’s very difficult to break into the industry. The doors would simply close before they’ll even manage to set their foot in.
For me, starting NERD was something quite revolutionary – I wanted to create a space where opportunities were open for everyone, regardless of your circumstances, your background. I wanted a workplace where people feel safe going into work, where they feel that they can come in and just be their actual selves. I wanted to create that space, but I also wanted to bring a diverse experience and diverse storytelling and techniques to the table. I think that’s when craft really wins – where we can make things that stem from experiences all over the world. And you know, that’s also something that feels very London to me. It feels very fresh and unique. Years later, after having built NERD, we are continuously working on how we present ourselves and being forward thinking, trying to stay relevant as much as we can by constantly asking ourselves questions like “What is the future going to be like? Who do we need to talk to now? What’s next?” It never really stops. I think having been here for just over nine years – ten years this August – it feels like just by being ourselves, we’re doing something right.
2. How do you build something that doesn’t just survive, but shifts culture?
Just by being my authentic self. You know, for me, as the mama hen of NERD, I think it’s always really important to just encourage everybody as much as I can to be themselves, to be authentic, and to be open. It’s also about being inclusive and tolerant. I think when you attract a group of people from many different beliefs and backgrounds, you also have to employ this kind of feeling of safety but tolerance towards other people’s beliefs and know how they feel because it might be the complete polar opposite of the scale.
At NERD, we’re here to open each others’ minds and teach each other, and work in collaboration. We’re always crafting and creating, and I think it’s important for us to build strong bonds and support each other and really elevate one another so I do my best that everyone at NERD feels that. There’s a lot of learning and support here. It’s almost like a little creative support group.
3. What conversations happen internally at NERD Productions that audiences never see?
I think we have a lot of conversations – hypothetical ones. Most importantly, it’s about every project that we do and every project that comes in, it’s always kind of taking a step back and seeing how we approach each project in the best possible way. We also talk about who’s the right person for every project, how we help each person, and how we can encourage collaboration in the best ways possible.
I love bringing young talent on board too – it’s important to see how they’ll fit into the puzzle, how we can help elevate them, and how we can create more opportunities for them. I think there’s a lot of conversations that we’re always having about how to improve and how to push boundaries further.
4. How do you create systems that support women and underrepresented creatives long-term, not just for one campaign? What policies or internal practices you’ve built at NERD are you most proud of?
At NERD, we don’t really have any policies outlined where people need to tick boxes when there’s a project. When we want to do something and we want to do it with meaning, things have to come from the heart and not from a piece of paper.
5. What conversations in the industry are still uncomfortable but necessary?
Well, I think cultural shifts are the one thing that always affects us massively. For example, when we had the #MeToo and #BlackLivesMatter movements, you would not believe the amount of outreach that we had for underrepresented artists, directors, and illustrations – especially women and black people.
I think since the rise of the Trump administration, the tables have shifted again and anybody who’s a minority, queer, or a woman are being pushed and sidelined. It’s shocking how in 10 years we were able to gain so much progress but now we’re back to zero. That’s why it’s important for us to keep pushing these conversations because there are partners, agencies, and brands who are very much interested in promoting equality and diversity, especially for the talent that they use in these projects.
It’s always difficult having those conversations openly, honestly, and transparently, but it’s important that we do have them so that we don’t forget and don’t end up making the same mistakes again. There’s a reason we had those movements. We don’t want to be in a situation where progress was something that only happened for a few years and then it’s gone. I think it’s important for us to just keep pushing.
Part II: HER Voice
1. Has becoming a mother changed the way you define success? What emotions did motherhood unlock that now influence how you lead? How has motherhood softened or sharpened your leadership skills?
I think that’s a tricky question, actually. It’s definitely changed so many things for me personally and professionally, because I think being a mother kind of gives you a new perspective and outlook on life about things that really matter and things that are really important and why.
I’ve always had a great deal of empathy. But I think being a mother has unlocked another layer of that in me. Especially since, it feels like I always try to be fair in any situation.
It’s definitely sharpened some of my leadership skills in the sense of that I’ve learned to prioritize things that are of actual importance. I also think that sometimes I take things too seriously, and motherhood has been the thing that’s kind of given me a little bit of a shake and just be like “You know what you don’t have to take yourself so seriously! There are other things that are way more important than whatever this incident is that you’re thinking about.” Motherhood has definitely given me a wider scope and understanding on my priorities as a mother and as a leader.
2. What do you want your children to understand about who you are, beyond your work?
I think the one thing that my children do see a lot of is how much at NERD we all support each other and help one another flourish. There’s a lot of chats and conversations and debates that they’re exposed to, I think that’s a really nice environment for children to see that work doesn’t have to be work and that there’s like a strict separation – that if you do something that you love with the people who enjoy it, it can really be fun and something that you feel is a part of you.
I think my children do see that my work is a part of our lives very much because you know my whole family is kind of entangled into what I do. They see their dad endlessly supporting me and the work that I do, and I would really love that for them because I think there’s no reason why you can’t enjoy your job and the people that you work with.
3. Do you feel the industry allows women to be both powerful and maternal without penalty?
Absolutely not. I think that is the one thing that remains and that’s really sad.
In this industry, women are almost forced out at a certain age because once you have your first child, then god forbid you have the second one. Then, you have to take time out on moments when the kids are sick, when the family needs you. I mean, it’s just not physically possible to be 110% in being both a mother and working on your career.
However, this is why NERD exists and why I started NERD. To create safer spaces for women. We just need to keep pushing for us to see more progress and more support for women in this industry.
4. Is there a side of you the industry doesn’t get to see?
I wouldn’t say so. I think you really have to lead by example. So I think with me, it’s like what you see is what you get and I feel like it has to be that way. If I’m expecting people to present themselves as themselves, then I think I’ve got to be that way too. The good, the bad, the sweet and the ugly – all of it. Because that is what makes us human. And that’s what makes us different and unique to one another. And I’d like to believe that all my NERDs are like that, that we’re all such different creatures.
5. What fears do you still carry, even at this stage of your career?
I think fear of failure is the one thing that still holds me back even now. I think it’s normal for us to have those late night thoughts of like “Oh my god, what if all of this goes away one day” and that feels really scary. And I still get those thoughts even years later. But I think apart from that, I’m learning to accept that everything in life comes and goes, changes, shifts, and evolves.
Part III: HER Vision
1. What does the next chapter of NERD look like? Where is the company heading culturally?
I think for us, it’s being mindful of the many things that affect our company, especially things that focus on inclusivity and diversity. It’s always good to stay aware of what the cultural and political shifts are because those things directly affect NERD and the talent that we represent. We just have to shape, evolve, and shift ourselves accordingly.
2. What legacy systems are you building for people who will lead after you?
I think that’s something that has to come naturally. I think that my passions and desires might not exactly be the same as the next person who leads NERD. I think there has to be room to kind of shift and change with the new generations.
Obviously, if you’re already at NERD, you somewhat align with NERD’s ethos and our passions and advocacies. I think leadership is about looking inside yourself and asking yourself things like “What do I stand for? What do we stand for?” and then pursuing that. It has to be a fluid thing and that can’t always be a concrete answer. I think everybody’s passions and desires are very different. Sometimes we’ll align on some things and that’s okay.
I think NERD will have to grow with the people that lead it. As we grow, we will change and shift, we will learn new things and uncover new things we’re passionate about. Sometimes, those things can also get sidelined and something else becomes more important in that moment of time. My hope is that there won’t be such a challenging future for the people that will lead NERD after me. But if we do, I hope that they have it in their heart to recognise what is needed in the moment and to push against any barriers they encounter.
3. If you could give one piece of advice to the version of you who was just starting out, what would it be?
Not to take things so seriously, including myself. I think I do take things to heart very much, especially in the past. I feel like I had to fight everybody’s battles. That’s an overwhelming, unrealistic task to take on and put on yourself. I’m very much guilty of that. So I think it’s important to just learn how to walk before you can run.
4. What conversations are just beginning that will define the next decade?
I don’t know about that one. I think we’re in a strange place where the world is very ugly at the moment. And, you know, there’s so many yucky things happening. I think it’s very difficult to kind of see through that right now. And I think it is time just to kind of stop, see what we can do personally and how we can personally contribute to make society a better place and make our industry a better place. That’s all that we’re in control of right now, really. I think everything else at the moment feels so uncertain otherwise so it’s really difficult to give a concrete answer for that.
5. When everything you’re building outlives you, what do you hope remains?
Kindness. That’s the one thing that I feel is at my core. I hope that one day when I’m retired and you guys are running NERD, and it’s doing its own thing and its shifted and changed with the times that there are people that will kind of be like, “Oh, I remember Milana. She was so quirky and like, you know, she pushed for me when no one else did.”
I like the idea of being in people’s corner. I think I’ve been very fortunate to have my family, my partner, and my close friends because they were in my corner against all odds – you know, we made it and we’re here.
It’s nice to be able to be that person for others when no one else is.
Building NERD was never just about starting a company. It was about creating a culture where people could show up as their full selves, where creativity could thrive through collaboration, and where the doors of the industry could open a little wider for those who had long stood outside them.
As Milana looks toward the future, her hopes remain grounded in the same values that started it all: curiosity, courage, and kindness.See more from Milana Karaica and NERD Productions on nerd.productions
NERD Productions award-winning illustrator Amanda Lanzone is renowned for her vibrant and playful visual style. Her work combines art and pop culture together creating images that not only feel original but represent the zeitgeist. She has created art for brands such as Universal Music Group, Converse, The New York Times, The New Yorker, Vice Media, Cosmopolitan. Providing her distinctive style to some of the most renowned brands on the planet.
We recently caught up with Amanda to discuss her creative process and how pop culture influences her art style and how growing up in the Big Apple influences her work.
New York is an incredible place for creativity and a hive for pop culture. How much do you think growing up there has influenced not only your work but how you approach art in general?
I think growing up in New York has influenced me in countless ways, and that definitely includes my art. Having access to so many things my whole life must have something to do with the way I think, and I pull from my life a lot when I create. There’s pop culture, but then there is also subculture, which is what I am into. I think it gives my approach a certain energy and honesty. I really enjoy making work about things that matter to me, that involve my personal experiences or things I think are cool/clever. You really never know where inspiration is going to strike, I see the beauty in things around me. I have definitely taken a photo of trash in the street because I liked how the colors looked next to each other, and used it for reference later.
Inspiration can come in many different forms, could you tell us what has recently inspired you? (e.g. books, commercials, film, music, fashion).
I have an eclectic list of inspiring things I’ve been enjoying lately. I’ve been reading old manga and playing a lot of DDR. Recently, I finished restoring a dollhouse I found on the side of the road, so I’ve been inspired by old homes and things of the past and the way they used to be made. I think it’s good to work on analog activities when I need to relax, so I’ve been making crafts and practicing cursive handwriting which feels very romantic. I’ve been watching runway shows and revisiting some of my old favorite movies with gothic themes. I love extreme music. I listen to a lot of different genres of metal, rock, hardcore, and hard electronic, etc. While I have been listening to a lot of the same music since I was a teenager, I’ve recently been diving deeper into the subgenres, whether it be from 20 years ago I missed or the new bands coming out now.
In relation to the above question – Your work feels very pop art inspired and wondered whether the New York art scene from the 1960s such as Andy Warhol and The Factory influenced you in any way?
I am pretty nerdy about artists/art history and that time period is no exception. I can definitely say the more I learned about Andy Warhol, the more interesting the whole production became. He was truly a pioneer with a lot of range, I am always amazed at how much he has accomplished as an artist. I always wonder what it must have felt like to be an artist in New York at that time, I’d imagine it was pretty wild.
When working on a commercial brief how do you adapt your style to match with the requirements of a brand/client?
This is all about balance and each project has its own spectrum of creative freedom so it can vary each time. When someone hires you, it’s usually because they like what you do which is a good start. I try to retain my own standard and way of doing things, while also keeping in mind any guidelines or preferences of the client. Some projects have a lot of guidelines, and some have very few. Guidelines are like a fun challenge, getting a prompt and putting my own twist on it is so enjoyable to me. It’s a good way to get something truly unique. While every situation is different, I want it to be something I am proud of.
As well as an illustrator you’re also a professor at the School of Visual Arts, what’s the best advice you give to your pupils who want to make a career as artists?
I get this one a lot, and the answer might not surprise you. I know NEVER GIVE UP and FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS sound like obvious answers. It’s important to really think about your goals and working very hard really matters. It takes a lot of growing and love. Even when you start to feel uncomfortable, you need to keep going and trying. Giving up is honestly the worst thing you can do. While it’s not for the weak, it is all very possible if you care enough. I really want to encourage my students to have this mindset, it’s the mindset that made it happen for me. Everything matters, and so does believing in yourself and your work. When it’s something you really love, it’s all worth it.
It’s that time of the year again where the cheap tinsel comes out and Mariah Carey gets defrosted to haunt every Christmas playlist in existence. At NERD Productions we have a global roster who all spend the festive period in different ways so we wanted to cap this year out with catching up with some familiar faces to discuss Christmas and New Years traditions and memories, so grab the mince pies and mulled wine and enjoy.
ALICJA JASINA
“In Poland, Christmas Eve comes with a quirky tradition: twelve dishes on the table (one for each apostle), which makes the dinner both chaotic and magical. We also always set one extra place for an unexpected guest – a stranger who might knock on the door, because no one should be alone that night. No stranger has ever appeared… but we’ve always had plenty of friends to fill the space.
Another tradition is sharing opłatek, a thin sacred wafer similar to the communion host. We break off pieces and exchange personal wishes one-on-one. It’s a surprisingly emotional ritual.
The evening is always cozy and joyful, and it inevitably ends the same way: my uncle gets tipsy, launches into family legends (including pre-war stories about my grandmother), and then grabs his guitar – he can play anything by ear. He moves from traditional carols to all kinds of songs, improvising based on who’s visiting. Last year, when my Colombian friends joined us, he made up “Spanish” lyrics that sounded convincingly Spanish… but absolutely weren’t. The guests were delighted anyway, so I guess that’s what matters.”
KULAY LABITIGAN
“We enjoy the old-school card giving. It is simple but heartfelt. My husband and I normally create and print our own bespoke illustrated Christmas cards. We set a weekend in December to sit down, reflect together, and write our Crimbo cards by hand one by one to send to our friends, family, and loved ones. It is a beautiful tradition to reflect back on the amazing year and remind us that there are just way too many things to be grateful about.”
AHMET ILTAS
“I grew up in the Freiburg–Bad Krozingen area of Germany, and every New Year’s season, the town seemed to change color overnight. The streets would light up, decorations stretched across the buildings, and enormous Christmas trees appeared in the town squares. For us kids, it all felt like a giant amusement park.
One of my strongest memories is of a small wooden hut beneath the big tree in the square. It was actually just a stall selling souvenirs, but we had declared it our secret headquarters. I remember one freezing evening when we challenged each other to touch a metal bell and see who could keep their hand on it the longest. I won, but my hand stayed frozen shut for ten minutes afterward. At that age, pride definitely outweighed pain.
We would wander through the decorated streets, past colorful windows and towering Christmas trees, carrying our hot chocolates and trying to spook each other with silly games. Even today, whenever I see New Year’s decorations, I’m taken back to that giant tree, the metal bell that nearly froze my hand off, and those winter nights when we disappeared into the fog and laughed as only children can.”
VIKTORIIA TELFER
“I am originally from Ukraine and Christmas is a little different there compared to the UK. First of all we celebrate on the night of 6th January, as my family is Orthodox. Traditionally, there should be 12 dishes on the table for the apostles, and my grandparents always prepared specific foods such as sweet barley (Kutia), fish, chicken, with the feast kicking off as the first star appeared. We also prep various Eastern European salads which we would then eat for breakfast too 🤣.
New Year’s Eve is also very important and is largely influenced by Soviet traditions rather than religion itself. One thing remains the same, though: it’s always a big feast, and everyone loves to dress up, photo proof below…
I have very warm memories of the holidays in Ukraine, but since moving to Scotland, I no longer celebrate Christmas on the 6th, as I’m not religious. I now fully follow the British holiday calendar and absolutely love Christmas Day on the 25th with my Scottish family. We either go out for a Christmas meal or enjoy a roast at home. One thing is certain, though, everyone is spoiled with gifts. We still write Christmas lists and make sure Santa brings a present for everyone, no matter their age or behaviour…”
It’s been a tough year for the industry but still a great year for creativity and craft, new friendships and collaborations ! No matter how you celebrate, we wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Is there any truth to “kids ruin everything”? Barking Owl’s managing director tackles the common proverb by comparing it to her own lived experience of motherhood.
Motherhood in advertising has long been an unspoken challenge – a career-defining crossroads where ambition is too often questioned, and support systems fall short. And while the industry has made progress in acknowledging the realities of working parents, tangible change is still slow, leaving many mothers to navigate the journey alone.
This edition of Motherland in Adland – the series founded by NERD’s Milana Karaica in partnership with LBB – sees Carol Dunn, managing director at Barking Owl, discuss the ins and outs of parenting as an ambitious woman in entertainment and advertising. From taking meetings with Wu Tang Clan, child in tow, to tag teaming parenting duties with a nanny and her mother-in-law, Carol looks back on what motherhood looked like for her over the course of her career in adland.
“Kids ruin everything!” I say it all the time, you can quote me… But that statement proves to be both true and false in the same breath, on different days, for different reasons. And here’s why…
I’ve worked in entertainment my entire career. Starting out as the switchboard operator at Capitol Records with a four year old at home and a sprog in my belly. When my kids were small, I had little to no guilt. As they grew older, they began to become vocal about their pride in watching me leave for the office, or even a business trip. The ‘adventure’ of doing their homework in my office was not an adventure at all but actually very normal.
I am lucky that I had a mother-in-law who tag teamed with a part-time nanny. This meant the kids had a home cooked meal every week day of their childhood — even if not a single one of those meals was cooked by me. Nor was I ever sitting at the family dinner table.
In spite of that, my kids, now 33 and 37, just this week told me they would both love to be “doing what [I] do”. Yes, I have tried to talk them out of it…
If I had any advice for new mothers it’s that it is normal to want to be at work and not at home sometimes. It is okay. I was back at work (due to terrible American maternity leave policies!*) three months after my second was born.
But, when all is said and done, I was thrilled to go back to work. I was lucky to be able to pump and provide breast milk to my daughter. Even she, at just nine months, was ready to spread her lactose wings and walk away from me – yup, she walked at nine months. Both of my kids did.
I was never afraid of my kids loving their grandmother or the nanny for that matter (which I find to be the oddest fear) more than me. I believe the thought and guilt a lot of mothers feel comes from outside chatter. External sources – family members, friends, IG ‘Trad Wife/Mom’ types – insisting that what they are doing is the right way to do it. But there isn’t a ‘right way’, there is just your way. No one can criticise you for doing it your way.
After all, where does most criticism blossom from? Jealousy and self doubt.
I am not going to say I had it all, nor that my work life balance was balanced. But while my career was my first choice my kids were my first loves. I truly have no guilt for the choices I made.
My daughter’s first trip to Manhattan was because I had meetings with Wu Tang. My son’s first dance floor experience with me was with Sia. The kids’ first concert was N’Sync at The Rose Bowl — we left after 4 songs, too loud!
Those experiences were available to us because of my access. My access was possible because of my work ethic. My work ethic was dogmatic because of my dedication to providing a full life for my children, with me.
*Shout out to Bulgaria and Sweden: Bulgaria offers 410 days (approximately 58.6 weeks) of paid maternity leave at 90% of the mother’s salary, starting 45 days before the due date; and Sweden provides 480 days of shared parental leave, with 390 days paid at 80% of wages.
This leave is designed to be shared between parents, with 90 days reserved specifically for fathers…
As part of the series ‘Motherland in Adland’, the head of operations and senior producer describes how working with fellow parents at creative studio, Ourselves, restored her confidence after facing redundancy.
Motherhood in advertising has long been an unspoken challenge – a career-defining crossroads where ambition is too often questioned, and support systems fall short. And while the industry has made progress in acknowledging the realities of working parents, tangible change is still slow, leaving many mothers to navigate the journey alone.
In this instalment of Motherland in Adland – the series founded by NERD’s Milana Karaica in partnership with LBB – we hear from Charlotte Jimenez, head of operations and senior producer at creative studio, Ourselves.
Charlotte’s story is one many mothers can relate to. Her ‘work hard, play hard’ approach to work was not sustainable in quite the same way after having children. Especially when toddlers just love to collect illnesses at nursery and require last-minute early pick ups. Juggling responsibilities in the home and the office left her edged out of her own career, and eventually, she was made redundant. Thankfully, her journey also comes with a happy ending, and hope for parents that like-minded, empathetic, adaptable workplaces are out there.
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I’ve been working my dream job at Ourselves, a remote creative studio, for almost six years now. When Aaron and Steven, the founders, first called me, the timing couldn’t have been better. I was a new mum, still reeling from redundancy at the big agency where I’d spent most of my career, and in the middle of a real crisis of confidence. Their offer felt like I’d just been handed a golden ticket.
I’ve always been ambitious and full of energy. I love people, I love teamwork, and I come from the ‘work hard, play hard’ millennial era. (Thursday night drinks after work included.) But life looks a little different now. I’m a mum of two boys, and while I’m still passionate about my career in advertising, I want to do it in a way that works for my family too. That means working from home more than the office, being flexible and agile, making it to school events, taking the boys to their after-school clubs, and, most importantly, not being so stressed that I forget what (and who) really matters.
In the early years of project management, I worked my way up the ladder, got recognised for my hard work, had the chance to work abroad, and lead a team. Back then, the mums on my team were often labelled as ‘part-time’, despite being the first ones in the office and usually the last ones online – working longer and harder to make up for leaving early for school pick-ups.
Then I had a baby. What a shocker.
My firstborn was often unwell as a toddler, which meant the nursery would regularly call asking me to pick him up early. Those calls triggered frantic conversations with my husband as we both scrambled to negotiate with our bosses, promising to work late into the night to make up for leaving the office two hours early.
I constantly felt like I was letting my team down. Even when I was home with my son, I didn’t stop working. I managed projects from my phone, took calls while driving, and juggled spreadsheets with one hand while cuddling a poorly child with the other. Eventually, I was given smaller, less critical projects. I was left out of key conversations and pushed toward standalone jobs. Looking back, I realise this was my boss’s way of keeping me in a role without relying on me for anything crucial, so if I had to drop everything and run to nursery, I could. But I hated it. I felt sidelined, excluded, and my confidence took a huge hit. I wasn’t myself.
When covid hit and, subsequently, redundancies, there were no surprises. It was clear to me and to many of my friends who had started families that we were first in line. We had chosen motherhood, and in the eyes of leadership, that meant we couldn’t give the same blood, sweat, and tears as younger colleagues or those without children. That was it, confirmation that I was seen as the weakest link.
Birds of a Feather
Then came an unexpected lifeline. Aaron Howard, a creative director I’d worked with for over six years, called one afternoon while I was at home, juggling two young children and questioning my life choices. He and his co-founder, Steven Bennett-Day, were starting something new and needed a producer. Not only was I on Aaron’s list, I came highly recommended by peers and that was a huge lift for me.
As fathers themselves, Aaron and Steven had both left big ad-agency life to reclaim autonomy, choose projects they cared about and be able to enjoy family life. They offered me the chance to help run a startup and shape how it would operate: flexible hours, remote working, and a culture that genuinely understood what it meant to be a working parent as a positive, not a negative. It felt like a dream job.
Fast Forward 6 Years
Today, at Ourselves, we’ve built the kind of team we once dreamed about. When we advertised for an account director and senior copywriter, we weren’t just looking for skills and good people, we wanted colleagues who shared our values and working style.
Now, we’re a powerhouse of parents (and like-minded teammates) running the show. We get the work done, in the working hours that suit us. We support one another. We’re flexible, so both our creatives and our management team can do their best work. Some of us work abroad when needed, we’re able to swap working days or hours, and we pick up the slack for each other without resentment. There’s no ‘us versus them’ mentality – just trust, respect, and genuine smiles for our 9:30 status meetings!
World Disability Day, officially known as the International Day of Persons with Disabilities (IDPD) is observed annually in December. It is a day to raise awareness about disability issues and to promote the rights and well-being of people with disabilities. A chance to promote and celebrate their achievements and contributions to society.
Advertising can be a platform to showcase and educate people on raising awareness on people living with disability. NERD Productions is lucky enough to have talent on the roster who have worked on projects that promote and help us think differently on the topic.
One of Arcade’s most recent projects for AS Apple Autism Awareness shines a light on children living with autism. The film is a celebration of togetherness and represents the spectrum showcasing children from different backgrounds who live with the condition. Autism can affect people differently with symptoms appearing in early childhood. It can affect people differently providing distinct strengths and weaknesses and can often be a very misunderstood disability that isn’t always visible or clear. Arcade’s film shows these children are no different from other children; they have the same desires and ambitions to play and discover. Arcade applies welcoming visuals and a playful colour palette that matches with the tone and message of the film.
Emmy award winner and stop-motion artist Hayley Morris crafted a thought provoking short film Undone which was inspired by her grandfather which devastatingly captures the debilitating nature of Alzheimer’s disease. Hayley’s hauntingly melancholic film expresses so much without words, instead utilizing abstract imagery and soundscapes that conjures up a sense of isolation and sadness. Stop-motion allows a sense of tangibility that adds emotive power to the film with touch playing a huge role within the narrative.
Ahmet IItas worked with Cochlear to produce a captivating piece of animation that shows the struggles and disconnect those who suffer from hearing issues face on a daily basis. Ahmet uses sweeping transitions and a clever use of colour that showcase how Cochlear hearing implants can provide comfort and connection back to those who need it.
Ahmet’s handcrafted approach to the animation style lends to the themes of togetherness and human connection that we can sometimes take for granted. It also allows the audience a chance to view things from the perspective of someone living with hearing loss and how that can impact everyday life.
Ahmet “The Cochlear ‘Connection’ project drew attention with its emotional depth and refined artistic approach, setting itself apart from the conventional advertising line of the medical device industry. The animated film tells the meaningful story of reconnecting with the world through the implant, addressing the isolation caused by hearing loss. The primary goal of the project was to emphasize the meaningful change in the user’s life rather than simply describing the functionality of a medical device in a dry manner.
In line with this vision, a sophisticated aesthetic was adopted, featuring traditional brush strokes and artistic stylization, distinctly setting it apart from other medical ads in the sector. The narrative conveyed the emotional transition, from the world becoming abstract and pale during moments of hearing loss, to the restoration of sound and the world becoming clear and colorful again with the implant, through powerful metaphors.”
Ahmet IItas – Cochlear Hearing Implant available here
If you’d like to see more from NERD Production click here
In this instalment of the ‘Motherland in Adland’ series, the creative director explains how discovering AI during maternity leave unlocked a new creative freedom – and why mothers must play an active role in shaping the future of work
Motherhood in advertising has long been an unspoken challenge – a career-defining crossroads where ambition is too often questioned, and support systems fall short. And while the industry has made progress in acknowledging the realities of working parents, tangible change is still slow, leaving many mothers to navigate the journey alone.
In this instalment of Motherland in Adland – the series founded by NERD’s Milana Karaica in partnership with LBB – we hear from Casey Bird, a creative director who most recently worked at Channel 4.
During her second maternity leave, Casey didn’t just return to work – she rewired how she thought about creativity, career progression, and possibility. AI became her tool for liberation, reinvention, and self-determined ambition. Now, as she launches her own creative studio, she’s calling on mothers across adland to experiment, challenge norms, and help shape the next era of work – because if they don’t, the future risks being built without them.
The AI Revolution is Here. Mothers Can’t Be on the Sidelines.
I’m not a technologist. I’m not a coder. I’m a mother of two (Hi Ruby & Mason, mama’s in LBB!).
I’m an award-winning creative director in advertising and marketing by trade, and someone who spent most of my career working global brands or brand partnerships, most recently Channel 4. But, during my second maternity leave in 2024, something happened: I became obsessed with AI. I became obsessed with the possibilities, the opportunities, the limitless ideas and thoughts. My brain literally exploded.
Not in a “sci-fi robots” kind of way, but because I saw how powerful it could be when applied to real life. I devoured hours of podcasts or YouTube vids on the topic. I started using it to brainstorm business ideas, draft pitches, shape creative concepts, things I had always relied on late nights or over-caffeinated mornings to do. Suddenly, instead of squeezing myself into a workplace model that was never designed for me, I could start designing my own.
That shift was life-changing for me. In 2025 I created the first advert for a brand on behalf of Channel 4 using creative imagination, prompt engineering and a lot of human editing. I could do this, because I felt confident with the tools I had been practising behind the curtains, that when the opportunity arose, I was able to raise my hand and stand out. It was so much fun feeling limitless in the execution and not restricted by a shoot.
Now? I’m currently in the process of taking a pause whilst I launch my own creative studio, one that works around my time, my energy, and my commitment to my family. And AI is at the heart of it, obviously. My imposter syndrome sometimes can tell me this is a bit of a gimmick, but I truly believe it’s going to the scaffolding that allows me to build a business on my own terms as a mother.
Here’s the thing I’ve been pondering, AI is being called the biggest shift since the internet. But if mothers aren’t part of this revolution, then once again the future of work will be built without us in mind. And we can’t afford that. Women constitute only 20% of employees in technical roles in major machine learning companies, 12% of AI researchers, and 6% of professional software developers. (UNESCO)
Because let’s be honest, the traditional workplace is already failing mothers. And if you’re reading this and nodding along, you’re not alone. Too many of us are pushed out, sidelined, or quietly exit because the system doesn’t bend and work with us and our commitments. AI could change that. It could be the tool that helps us re-enter, reinvent, or completely bypass the structures that excluded us in the first place. So imagine if mothers everywhere used AI not just to lighten the admin load or think up dinner ideas for the week, but instead:
Prototype businesses faster: turning that “what if” idea into a plan overnight. With no-code website builds you can take your idea to MVP in a day. No dev dude to patronise you.
Access opportunities that don’t depend on presenteeism: pitching, networking, or upskilling on your own schedule. Getting LLM’s to challenge you, set goals and learning schedules. Research indicates that women adopt generative AI tools at work 25% less than men, potentially widening the gender gap in career opportunities. (AllBright)
Rewrite the CV narrative: using AI to frame maternity leave not as a “gap,” but as proof of leadership, resilience, and creativity. The more we feed the LLM’s and tools these narrative, the less bias will present.
Create new economies of work: where flexibility isn’t a perk, it’s the foundation. The opportunity is enormous. But only if we claim it!
If AI is left to be defined by the Silicon Valley bros and tech dudes in your office, it will replicate the same systems that already shut us out. If mothers step in, experiment, and shape it, we can build something better. Not just for us, but for everyone. Think of it as inventive, as being resourceful and creative with our thinking. And mothers have always been good at that, right?
So here’s my call to action for mothers and others, reading this…
Mothers, play with AI. It’s not scary or uninviting. Break it, bend it, push it. Use it to sketch that side hustle, to pitch that business idea, to design work that actually fits your life!
Because if mothers don’t step in now, we risk being erased from the future of work before it’s even been written. Now is the time to really flex the skills, and pull up a seat at the table. In fact, forget the table, build your own AI table with cosy chairs and warm cups of tea and invite other women to sit at it with you.
In the latest edition of getting down and NERDy we caught up with Sakari Lerkkanen to discuss the filmmaking process of Ode to Cinema for Camapari. A love letter to not only the iconic drink but to the history of cinema, blending many different genres and playing homage to some very iconic filmmakers. Sakari doesn’t just pay homage to the work of other famous directors but provides his own distinct and striking form of storytelling the oozes style and sophistication. Juggling the act of capturing the brand image of Campari, while also capturing the spirit of classic film iconography and then on top of that still applying your own unique stamp is no easy feat. You could say it’s like a creative cocktail, balancing new and old flavours together to make something totally original and refreshing.
When you think of Campari what’s the first thing that comes to mind for you and how did you apply this to the campaign?
Cinema. Cannes Film Festival. The Riviera. Italy. In that order – though only after directing this campaign.
Across all the films, that Italian sensibility was essential, especially in art direction, design and elegance. Campari is an Italian icon. But it became more in focus in the ’60s spy spot. The original script leaned on Western spy tropes (notably James Bond), but we shifted toward Italy’s own “spaghetti spy” tradition. It felt more intriguing, more distinct – and more Campari.
What was the trickiest aspect of shooting this campaign?
Time. Prep was tight. But the script was strong, and we had an exceptional team who instantly connected with it. Everyone brought ideas that enriched the final films and added far more nuance than I initially imagined. I love that kind of collaborative process. It makes the final piece feel so much more layered and alive.
How did you use technology and equipment to capture the visuals of the different genres to make them feel authentic? (e.g. lenses, audio)
The goal was to study and mirror each filmmaking era as authentically as possible.
For example, in the 40s, wide and long lenses were limited. The equipment was heavy. The film stock was less refined than today. We purposefully burned highlights, avoided anything overly polished and kept the audio mono. Our sound team even matched the tonal footprint of the period.
In the 60s, mainstream production value improved, but spaghetti spy films were often low-budget. We leaned into that charm – of course, with elegance in mind. Our editor (an absolute cinephile) also noted how rare match cuts were then, so we adopted a simpler, slightly imperfect rhythm. Later, there was even a brief trend when editors who could do match cuts became a novelty in Hollywood, which feels funny in retrospect.
In the 90s, post-Star Wars, the more expressive, layered sound design became standard (so to speak, modern sound design). In our Se7en-inspired piece, we used that freedom. However, Fincher always emphasises the plot with clarity and purpose. This poignancy was essential – nothing messy. Visually, handheld cameras and most modern lenses were already part of the mainstream grammar by the ’70s onward, so we used them.
Even though Anderson’s films feel nostalgic, he also uses these modern tools. Playful title cards, clean optics, precise framing. Studying Moonrise Kingdom, we also realised that his symmetry is very different to Kubrick’s, and his art direction blends eras rather than being pinned to one (primarily mid-20th century).
When paying homage to other artists or work how do you make sure to create your own personal stamp?
When aiming for an authentic film, there’s always a paradox: everything can’t be perfectly authentic. 40s or 60s film stock would be too aged today, so you rely on modern tools to echo the past. Storytelling is subjective, not objective – visible in every cut you make. Every decision you make.
I am not Fincher or Anderson, but I can embrace what I love in their work and how it makes me feel. In storytelling, that honest, personal feel is something that we all connect with. It’s like speaking to another person. That becomes your signature. In Wes, the curtains and jacket had Lynch vibes, while the plot carried a touch of Kaurismaki. Why hide it? In the noir, Mona had a natural telenovela flair – so we embraced it. And guess who’s the voice on the phone? These decisions all add nuance and texture.
I remember being very happy with the first cuts, but rewatching them again at home, something felt off. Moments that felt funny or exciting earlier weren’t anymore. The spark was missing. The next day, we tore each cut apart and rebuilt the flair. That’s the work – finding the emotional truth.
Ultimately, your style comes from your workflow, the people you collaborate with, and your taste – not from forcing a look. In my early years, I leaned on flashy effects and signature tricks to create a certain “style.” Later, I realised: story comes first. What does it need? How does it connect with people? The sharper the intent, the stronger the resonance.
That learning curve allowed me to translate my vision across multiple film genres and work with vastly different brands worldwide. Now, it is fun to see how some people say my reel has a bold voice, while others highlight its versatility. Both are true. For me, the story and intent always lead – rest follows.
While preparing for the shoot were there any films you watched for inspiration?
For noir: Tension (1949), D.O.A. (1950), Casablanca, The Third Man and The Maltese Falcon.
For the 60s: Audrey Hepburn: Charade, The Spy Who Loved Me, Dr. No, From Russia with Love, Goldfinger, Danger: Diabolik (recommend) and various others.
Wes Anderson’s Moonrise Kingdom and The Grand Budapest Hotel. For the thriller: Se7en, Killer and various others.
Mostly, though, we broke down and analysed the frames, techniques and scenes rather than entire films. Everyone was already familiar with the titles. It was a mix of agency references and my own. (I had to pull these titles from my notes.)
Music also plays such a large part of telling the narrative in each of these films, how was the music brought to life for this?
Each track needed to instantly throw the viewer into the film’s world. First, we aligned on era-specific instruments/styles, then shortlisted five tracks per film – twenty total. The ones that were both instantly recognisable and uplifted the films with a distinct edge made the cut.
The funniest case was the Wes spot. I’d never associate that track with Anderson, but I love surf guitar (I play it too), plus the song’s rhythm elevated the film with a deadpan wink. It made us smile – and it worked.
Need to see more from Sakari then click here 👀 And to find out more about NERD Productions talent click here 👈
