More Risk, More Wonder, More Soul: The Key to Experiential Directing

Hal Kirkland is an award-winning writer, director, and creative director who wields words, film, and technology to tell vivid cinematic stories and create unforgettable experiences.

His journey in experiential creativity began when he somersaulted from advertising creative director (BBH, 180, Wieden+Kennedy), and started to create his own experiences.

After jumping into directing and immersive experiences, Hal soon joined Tool’s roster where he has crafted experiences for Amazon Prime’s ‘Good Omens’, HBO’s ‘The Flight Attendant’, Uber and many more. His work for ‘Good Omens’ took beloved characters from the series and turned them into a touring Satanic a cappella choir and social campaign from Hell. To this day it’s the most successful series promotion Amazon has created.

These days Hal manifests all kinds of experiential realities at his new home with Unit9. Highlights include following Pedro Pascal as he solved the mysteries of Merge Mansion, launching ‘Diablo IV’ with Megan Fox, and helping to make ‘John Wick 4s’ launch the most successful launch of Lionsgate’s history.

LBB> What draws you to experiential projects?

Hal> Experiential work offers a kind of creative engagement that’s completely different from traditional filmmaking. You’re not just crafting a world for people to watch – you’re building one they can step into. A narrative that unfolds around them, physically and emotionally. That immediacy is what excites me.

While a lot of my creative focus is traditional directing, experiential keeps me coming back because it stretches every creative muscle. I’ve worked across commercials, music videos, immersive experiences, screenwriting, advertising, performance, and tech. Experiential is the rare space where every skill comes into play at once – it’s the whole megillah.

LBB> How do you approach blending new technology with storytelling?

Hal> For me, technology is never the story – it’s a language we use to tell it. When used thoughtfully, it can dissolve the boundary between audience and narrative. But when it’s just there to show off, it risks breaking immersion. I always ask: Does it serve the emotion, tension, or tone of the idea? Tech should facilitate or expand the story’s reach – not distract from its heartbeat.

My trajectory as a director has allowed me to work across many formats, which has helped me avoid being seduced by trends. I don’t use AR or projection mapping just because they’re shiny – I use them only when they genuinely enhance the story.

LBB> Can you discuss your work on the 'Good Omens' campaign?

Hal> The ‘Good Omens’ campaign was a rare and joyful opportunity to blur the line between fiction and reality in a truly fun way. I took the Chattering Order of St. Beryl – originally a fictional Satanic order of nuns from the book and series – and transformed them into a real, world-touring a cappella choir. They hacked performances, heralded the apocalypse through song, launched an album, made a music video, and even crashed ‘America’s Got Talent’.

This project distilled everything I love about experiential: world-building, character development, musical composition, and dark humour – all wrapped in an immersive story that played out in real time, at live events, and across social channels. It wasn’t just a PR campaign; it was a world invasion of biblical proportions.

LBB> How did the campaign perform?

Hal> It did great – it’s still referenced as Amazon’s most successful series launch to date. I think it resonated because I wrote it as an extension of the world it belonged to, not just a reference to it.

My first target audience was the creators of the series and the original book’s fanbase. I figured if I could create something authentic and compelling enough to capture their attention – and earn their evangelism – the broader, more mainstream audience would follow. And they did.

LBB> Are metrics as important to you as in-person immersion?

Hal> Yes – but only when they’re in service of something real. Immersion creates emotional impact; metrics measure the ripple effect. The ‘Good Omens’ campaign worked because it genuinely resonated with the people who cared most. That emotional authenticity is what turned engagement into amplification.

I’ve found that the most powerful metrics come after you’ve made something worth talking about. Start with immersion, build trust with your core audience, and the numbers tend to follow.

In my experience, emotional residue is far more valuable than data impressions.

LBB> What about the people that can’t experience it in person?

Hal> It’s no secret that most people will encounter the film about an experiential project rather than experience it firsthand – and that’s OK.

To me, the real goal of experiential is to create something headline-worthy. Moments that are memorable, shareable, and carry far beyond the physical space. It’s less about throughput and more about the story you’re putting into the world – something original, emotionally resonant, or culturally sticky enough that people want to write about it, talk about it, or share it.

In fact, the headline I want to generate is often where I begin. If the idea is simple and strong enough to be distilled into a headline, it’s usually worth building.

LBB> What’s your research process when working with existing IP?

Hal> If I’m not already familiar with a brand, IP, or service, I start by writing down all my first impressions – before research clouds my instinctive take. Then I dive deep.
For ‘Good Omens’, I read the book, the pilot script, and listened to the audiobook every time I went running. I was hunting for character nuances, language patterns, Easter eggs – anything that true fans would recognise and appreciate.

I took the same approach for the ‘John Wick 4’ launch. I didn’t just watch the movie – I dug into the lore so that every detail fans encountered felt intentional and rewarding. It’s about honoring the world, so the fans feel seen.

LBB> What are some common mistakes you see in experiential work?

Hal> One of the biggest traps is trying to appeal to everyone. I’ve seen high-budget experiential work that ends up being little more than a thematic shell of the IP it’s promoting.

Sure, it might take over a city block at SXSW or Comic-Con – but too often, it’s just a flashy photo op. After waiting in line for an hour, people breeze through in minutes, hear a few catchphrases from actors, and leave without any real sense of the story or why it matters.

Just like with a great film, it’s always worth investing more time and resources into the story itself. Without that core emotional anchor, the spectacle doesn’t stick.

LBB> What challenges do you face in experiential directing?

Hal> Scale and moving parts are some of the biggest challenges in experiential. Most projects are incredibly complex – a lot more so than traditional directing, and that’s saying something.

My background allows me to speak multiple creative languages, which helps bridge gaps between different collaborators. But even with that, it can be a serious juggling act – especially when the scope isn’t immediately visible from the outside, and clients naturally focus on smaller details that can shift the energy away from the bigger picture.

That’s why I focus on earning their trust early. I do that by oversharing the plan, leading teams with clarity, and leaving as little to chance as possible.

LBB> What role does audience interaction play in your projects?

Hal> Audience interaction is the lifeblood of experiential. It’s what turns a passive viewer into an active participant. I’m constantly thinking about how people move through space, how they emotionally engage with a story, and what kinds of choices they can make that reinforce the narrative arc.

I think of it as building “emotional architecture” – you’re not just designing a space, you’re designing how it feels to exist within it. That’s the true artistry of interaction.

LBB> What inspired the 'MoMA Unadulterated' project?

Hal> That project came from a desire to cut through the institutional language around art. So often, galleries create this intimidating atmosphere – especially for people who feel like they need a degree to “understand” what they’re looking at. I thought, what if we gave the mic to people who don’t filter their thoughts through theory or art history? Enter: kids. And what they gave us was raw, funny, and often incredibly insightful.

It was also a project that blended my interests in audio, performance, psychology, and institutional critique. The fact that MoMA let me disrupt their sacred halls with honesty and irreverence was both thrilling and kind of surreal. It’s a good example of how I like to use experiential to challenge systems, not just support them. Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is change the lens, not the art.

LBB> How do you ensure authenticity in branded experiential work?

Hal> Authenticity starts with listening. Before I pitch ideas, I want to understand what the brand really values – beyond the tagline. Then I try to find the human heartbeat underneath it. What problem are they solving? What story are they trying to tell, not just sell? Once I get there, I can create something that feels honest, aligned, and emotionally resonant.

I think the reason clients trust me is because I always try to ground them in meaning. I want to build experiences that reflect the brand’s soul – and that means sometimes pushing back when something feels performative or hollow. When you create something people believe, you create something people remember.

LBB> What impact did the 'Artobots Guggenheim' project have?

Hal> Artobots was a playful infiltration of the Guggenheim that reimagined a John Chamberlain exhibition as a memorial to the fallen Autobot army. Each sculpture became a relic from the (fictional) Battle of the Hudson – humanity’s last stand against the Decepticons.

It was my way of reinvigorating audio tours and inviting new audiences into traditional institutions through the lens of pop culture. Satirical, multi-layered, and obsessively researched, it captured the kind of work I love – where you can laugh, then think, then feel.

Artobots resonated because it was both a fun exhibition and a quiet critique. That tension is something I aim to bring into everything I do. Fortunately, the Guggenheim was into it too – it even led to a talk at MuseumNext on how unexpected storytelling can reconnect collections with new audiences.

LBB> What trends do you foresee in experiential storytelling?

Hal> We’re heading into a time where experiences will become increasingly hybrid – blending physical environments with digital overlays in ways that feel seamless and intuitive.

Augmented reality, AI-driven narratives, spatial sound design – all of these tools are evolving, and they’re going to reshape how we think about space, story, and participation.

But what excites me most is the return to intimacy – not just scale. People are craving meaning, not just spectacle.

LBB> How does your background in music videos influence your experiential work?

Hal> Music videos taught me how to build highly conceptual cinematic moments inside tight timeframes and tighter budgets. That kind of compression sharpens your instincts.

It also taught me how to orchestrate rhythmically. Timing, pacing, musicality – those things shape how people experience space too. Whether someone’s walking through an installation or watching a projection unfold, I’m thinking about tempo. I’m thinking about beats.

Experiential is often described as “3D storytelling,” but I think of it more like “story-choreography.” Music video work helped me master that – and it’s one of the secret weapons I bring into every immersive project.

LBB> What does it mean to be an experiential director today?

Hal> To be an experiential director today is to be part storyteller, part architect, part provocateur. It means creating work that people don’t just see – they live.

You’re designing for memory, for presence. That’s a huge and beautiful responsibility. You have to think spatially, emotionally, technologically, theatrically, commercially – and hold all of that in your head at once.

For me, it’s one of the most creatively demanding and fulfilling roles out there. As I mentioned earlier, it’s a joy as a creator to pour everything you’ve learned into a single project. No skill goes unused. Every brief becomes a chance to rethink the medium – a living ecosystem built around meaning, memory, and sometimes even magic.

LBB> What advice do you have for aspiring experiential directors?

Hal> Don’t get stuck thinking you have to be one thing. The best experiential directors I know are multi-skilled, endlessly curious, and willing to get their hands dirty. Learn how to collaborate. Learn how to listen. And most of all, learn how to think like an audience member: what would you want to feel if you walked into that room?

Also – protect your weirdness. The world doesn’t need more safe work. It needs more risk, more wonder, more soul. And that comes from people who stay curious and brave enough to try new things. The path isn’t linear, and that’s a good thing. Use every side quest as training. You never know when that random skill – like live sound design or producing fringe theatre – will become the exact thing a project needs.