For those of us who grew up watching Disney Channel’s ‘The Suite Life of Zack & Cody’, living inside a hotel was the thing of dreams. For director and co-founder of production company World War Seven, David Shafei, it was his reality.
Growing up inside Disney World’s Hilton Hotel, he lived and breathed the brand, developing an acute understanding of human behaviour. It’s something he took into his future career as a director – telling human-first stories that speak directly to audiences, for brands including Bud Light, Google, GEICO and most recently, AT&T.
He co-founded World War 7 (WW7) with fellow filmmaker Josh Ferrazzano in 2009. “The idea was to create a place where we could bring together people we liked, work on projects we cared about, and make the job not feel like a job,” he tells LBB.
Inspired by the likes of HKM, The Director’s Bureau and Smuggler – filmmaker-founded production companies built around their own beliefs – WW7 has since expanded to encompass an entertainment division and a recently launched artist-led creative AI lab, WW8.
At the centre of it all lies a commitment to conveying what’s real, making people laugh and constantly evolving, acting as proof that there’s no shortcut to making genuinely great work.
Speaking to LBB’s Abi Lightfoot, David discusses some standout work from his career so far, and why if you’re going to disrupt an audience, you must at least make it worth their time.
David> I grew up there because my father was a general manager for Hilton Hotels, and he was expected to live on-site to oversee the hotel, so the hotel became our home. I would say it absolutely shaped who I am as a person and a creative.
From a very young age, I was always in a position to watch people. Guests would come and stay, and they'd be in full vacation mode, doing all the things you do on vacation – fight, go crazy, have fun, do whatever – while I was just living there, observing.
I think it made me feel different, or ‘other’, from a young age. And it made me really interested in people. Plus, living inside Disney World meant living inside a brand. Almost every part of that experience was crafted or planned, you could trace almost every choice back to a Disney edict about colour, attitude, everything.
It gave me a very keen sense of what’s real and what’s artificial in creativity. That’s not to say everything Disney does is artificial; they're some of the best craftspeople and creatives in the world, but it allowed me to recognise that kind of construction from a young age.
The third thing that really shaped me, especially in advertising, was working in hospitality. We weren’t just living in hotels; we were a service industry family. I spent a lot of time observing guests' emotions and anticipating their needs. I use a lot of that in advertising now, whether it's working with clients, listening, or being open to where people are at. That hospitality mindset has really guided me.
David> My first introduction to filmmaking was watching movies, specifically Steven Spielberg movies. I was a latchkey kid, so I’d come home, be alone, and watch TV and films.
When we lived at the hotel, it was pretty isolated, far from typical neighbourhoods. I had friends and would visit their houses occasionally, but my dad had unlimited passes to the AMC theater at Disney Village, so most of the time, if I wasn’t outside playing, I was at the movies.
Sometimes I'd end up watching movies that weren't really for kids, like ‘The Accidental Tourist’, at 10 years old. I must have seen it three or four times because it was the only thing playing.
Beyond watching, my first hands-on experiences were with a VHS camera. We'd make little movies around the hotel; it was a great setting. We even used a video game system to pull sound effects from games like ‘Final Fight’ and dub them over our little films.
If there were ever a school project where you could choose between a book report, an art piece, or making a video, I’d always choose to make a video. That’s how it all started for me.
Above, 'Easy Baby' for AT&T directed by David Shafei
David> It wasn’t really a ‘flip’. I basically went to law school because I didn’t realise I had other options.
In undergrad, I minored in film and worked on documentaries, but I didn’t understand how to turn it into a career. In my family, you had to get a ‘real’ degree. And since I was a good student, I thought, Maybe I'll become an entertainment lawyer. Then I'll produce. Then maybe I'll direct.
Which is, honestly, a ridiculous plan because that's incredibly hard to do.
But the best thing about law school was that I disliked it so much that it forced me to make a choice. I realised that if I stayed on the law track, I would never get to do the thing I really wanted to do. So, I guess you could say law school was bad enough that it made me brave enough to change course.
David> You know, I’m not sure I made much of a mark back then, but we definitely had a lot of fun. Most of the music videos I worked on were with small indie bands – some bigger than others – but it was really just about making whatever we could with whatever we had.
One of my favourites from that time was a video I directed with my directing partner at the time, Saul Levitz, for Built to Spill’s ‘Conventional Wisdom’. It stood out because it was our first real conceptual idea. We’d met this amazing guy in Frazier Park, just outside LA. He was the president of the American Jousting Association, and we were totally fascinated by him. The idea we pitched was probably the first that really felt aligned with what Saul and I were drawn to.
We wanted to make something about a person that could also function as a music video. That project, a portrait of a guy named James Zoppe, was when I first saw how my interest in real people and their wild lives could shape the work I wanted to do. Many of my favourite projects since have been about exactly that – people, what they get up to, who they are, and how that leads to comedy and everything else.
My business partner, Josh, and I came from that scrappy ethos – just figuring out how to make it happen. When we started World War Seven, we already understood how ‘real’ productions worked from our time as assistants and PAs at places like Smuggler, HKM, and Director’s Bureau. So even when we had limited resources, we always kept a mindset of client service and professionalism.
One of the first projects that really felt like us was the ‘Oreo Separator Project’. We travelled the country on a shoestring budget with my friend and second directing partner Michael Illick. We profiled people who built machines to separate Oreos. The first one was with our friend David Nevill. We brought all our scrappiness to the shoot, but also used our understanding of documentary tropes to make what we thought was genuinely funny.
That was the first time I felt like we weren’t just being scrappy – we were crafting something purposeful, funny and intentional.
David> I think the way that I've just found myself making work that resonates and feels true all comes back to telling stories about people. Especially in commercials, where oftentimes we're focused on selling or telling the story of a brand, my way has always been to tell that story through humans.
Focusing on the real dynamics of how people live, how they mess up, and how they strive seems kind of basic, but that's just my primary interest. I feel like if I can authentically or honestly look at something that's really happening out in the world to real people, no matter how specific it is – and actually, the more specific the better – the more I feel like I'm making work that connects with people.
All of my favourite work is the work where I feel like I'm really talking about myself. And I find that when I do that, people really connect with it.
'The Legend of the Lizard', GEICO's Super Bowl 2024 campaign
David> You know, there are a lot of commercials that have been important to me, milestones or moments where I tried something new. But the one that stands out is a job I did for Cape Cod Chips with Barton F. Graf. It was one of the first projects I directed solo, and it meant a lot because it was the first time I really leaned into the idea of having the actors play everything straight and seriously.
We shot it in Boston and Cape Cod with local actors, which was especially meaningful because I went to school there and have a real affinity for the people and the place. The commercial itself was small, but I remember we came up with a joke on set that made the spot so much darker and more ridiculous, and it worked. It was the first time I trusted my instincts for the type of humour my friends and I love, especially my New England friends, and saw it come through on screen.
We were lucky, too. The client backed all our casting choices, and we got performances that felt grounded and honest. Some improv and alternate takes pushed it even further. It was one of those rare moments where nothing got diluted. It felt like my voice, fully intact. And yet it was a collection of voices that made it. Props to creative director Nick Kaplan and the legend Gerry Graf for letting me work on that campaign.
Ironically, that commercial never even aired. Cape Cod Chips ended up selling so much product that they decided they didn’t even need to launch the campaign. So the one that felt the most ‘me’ never saw the light of day. Still, I loved everything about it: the cast, the experience, the fact that we were working with people who felt really different from typical New York or LA actors. It’s still one of the projects I’m proudest of.
Another project I’m really proud of was the ‘Oreo Vault’. We made it during the pandemic, it was an almost impossible job. With a tiny crew, we traveled to Norway and then the Arctic Circle and pulled off a comedic spot in the middle of a global shutdown. It was incredibly scrappy and indie; the crew was maybe a tenth of the size of a normal production. It came together beautifully, thanks to an amazing cast, a great client, and a close group of collaborators: Nick Divers (editor), Michael Mitchell (producer), Frank Cartagena (CD), Ian Reichenthal (CD,) and Jake Bianco (DP). We shot, edited, and delivered it in five days, racing against a meteor that was passing close to Earth. It was a real adventure, and I’m still very proud of it.
David> For me, the most interesting thing on screen is always the people. In commercials, I think the actors you choose are a huge part of building a brand’s voice, probably the biggest part. They're the ones who humanise the brand and make people actually want to pay attention, even when they don’t want to.
I always say to creatives: don’t forget they hate you. Meaning, the audience doesn’t want to see your ad, they want to keep watching their show or scrolling their feed. So if you’re going to interrupt them, you better put someone on screen they can like.
That’s why casting is everything for me. I push hard to spend as much of the resources as possible to find the best, most authentic people. During the process, from auditions to the shoot, I want the actors to help us elevate the material, not just deliver it, but make it better.
Ultimately, everything we do, every joke, every emotion, has to come from a real human being. And the better the actor, the more powerful that connection is.
David> Honestly, there wasn’t a huge strategic plan. It was really simple: Josh and I loved working together, and we were both terrible employees. We thought, what if we were the company?
The idea was to create a place where we could bring together people we liked, work on projects we cared about, and make the job not feel like a job. We were inspired by other filmmakers who had started their own companies, people like Michael Karbelnikoff and Graham Henman at HKM, Roman Coppola at The Director’s Bureau, and Brian Carmody and Patrick Milling Smith at Smuggler. Watching them build creative homes for themselves made us believe we could too.
The transition into leadership was rocky. We were bad at it for a long time. We had to learn sometimes the hard way how to work with each other, manage teams, and deal with clients. But ultimately, building World War Seven has been the most rewarding thing I've done, even more than directing in some ways. It’s been harder than I thought but also much more meaningful.
David> There’s a lot happening in the industry, good, bad, and everything in between, and it’s all changing fast. One thing I’m really interested in is AI. We use it a lot at World War Seven, but maybe in a different way than most people talk about it.
For us, AI is a tool to increase efficiency, help with brainstorming, and visualise ideas for clients faster and more concretely. But what excites me most isn’t just the technology itself; it’s how it might push us back toward the things AI can’t do: human performance, comedy, and authentic storytelling.
AI is going to make visuals even slicker and more stylised, but I think that opens up space for the things that can’t be faked (yet): great acting, real humour, genuine humanity. I’m excited to see how that creates an even bigger premium on truly original ideas, unexpected performances, and storytelling that feels personal rather than machine-made.
David> I want World War Seven, and myself personally, to keep making great comedy, but I’m also really excited about moving into longer-form storytelling, especially branded content that feels more like entertainment than advertising.
The marketplace is so crowded now – TikTok, Instagram, YouTube – people are constantly consuming hilarious, compelling content that isn’t advertising. So if you're going to interrupt them, you have to be genuinely funny, genuinely entertaining. There's no shortcut anymore.
I’m hopeful that the industry will realise the only real advantage is making better work, not tricking people with clever targeting or algorithmic optimisation, but actually investing in writers, actors, directors, and creators who can make great things. I want us to be part of that evolution.
As a director, my biggest aspiration is just to keep being inspired: to keep it fun, keep it new, and keep collaborating with amazing people, especially younger or newer voices who challenge me and bring fresh perspectives.
And for World War Seven, it’s the same: keep growing by adding new voices, pushing ourselves, and experimenting with new tools like AI. Speaking of which, we just officially launched our new AI creative lab, WW8. If you haven’t already heard, consider this your official notice to go check it out. But above all, stay focused on what matters: people, humour, and heart.