Joe Wilby was raised in the West Country - an unlikely product of a tin miner and a ballet dancer - a combination of graft and grace, pretty good attributes for a future editor.
Cut to 20 years later and Joe has edited most genres; documentary series, music promos, adverts, sponsorships, short films and feature films. He has worked across brands such as Jaguar, HSBC, Nintendo, The Times and an array of promos for Channel4 to name a small few. He has also won some lovely awards in this lifetime including a D&AD Pencil for Best Editing. These days you’ll normally find him cutting adverts and anything short or funny, mostly in his hometown in Finland.
Here we talk to Joe about what tickles his funny bone, his love of Rik Mayall and public information films for the government.
Joe> My first advertising job was at the Stonehenge Free Festival in 1982. I was basically an eight-year-old human radio advert, yelling out the current availability of hot-knives and mushroom tea. I thought it was a bit of a laugh. They were different times back then.
As a kid I spent a lot of summer holidays at mid-eighties festivals and the place I was always drawn to was the cabaret tent. it was the most entertaining part of it, you got a bit of everything. Mr Methane the farting legend and Burt Hollocks doing shit magic and banging 6” nails up his nose were particular favourites. I remember seeing The Greatest Show on Legs doing their notorious naked balloon dance somewhere. Farting, danger and willies, what more entertainment could a young lad want? (No. we didn't have Fortnite back then).
Joe> My Mum became involved in stage management at these events and when I was about 12 one of these comedy troupes came and stayed in our remote little cottage on Dartmoor, they were touring an improv show and needed a place to stay. So we had these four guys hanging about making stuff up and being funny all over the place. I remember, being 12, thinking they were a bit annoying and cringe, but I was intrigued by their electric camaraderie, the witty banter and soon started joining in. Anyway one of these guys was a whiny little Canadian guy called Mike, he moaned about having to chop wood to heat the cottage that he was staying in...for free.
One evening while they were staying, James Bond - Goldfinger came on the telly (on one of the three channels we had) and I remember we started making up funny versions of the theme song. Years later I learned that Mike's surname was Meyers and he had this character called Austin Powers. I'm pretty sure I came up with Goldmember during our little singsong. But Mike's lawyers will probably make me realise that I actually didn't.
Joe> There wasn’t one. I had no aim to get into this industry. I’ve just landed in a happy place that suits me. I’ve always loved a puzzle and I’ve always treasured the satisfaction of tinkering with something until it’s nearly perfect, from a very early age. My dad was a tin-miner and used to bring home these huge lumps of fools-gold. I used to spend hours cleaning them up until they sparkled, I did them until my parents started getting concerned there was something wrong with me. The tenacity is baked in. Now I polish up things people have mined from their imaginations for real gold.
Joe> In these years comedy was evolving. Mainstream comedy was a bloke (usually) standing up telling jokes. A thing called “alternative” comedy was developing, sneaking out of cabaret clubs and onto TV. Less straight-laced and more wild. And there was none much more wild than Rik Mayall. As a teenage lad, Rik just seemed to be the greatest antidote to everything mundane, everyone I knew adored Rik. He was a huge influence on a teenage Joe Wilby.
Years later I managed to land a driver/runner job on a series of Virgin Trains adverts starring Rik. I wasn't stalking, honest. It just happened. I spent a week driving him around and chatting, avoiding the local paps, supplying him with low-tar ciggies and non-tuna sandwiches, dropping him off at his lovely gaff in the South Hams. The man was simply the brightest, sparkiest, naughtiest person I have ever met, a real gem, completely bonkers obviously. His mum seemed quite normal. He gave me a Jellykins pen, I've lost it since.
In terms of genre, I would have loved to have worked on the film Nacho Libre. It’s such a sweet and silly film, but with a big heart. I love that “it’s slightly lame and crap on purpose” vibe. Which is a really dangerous fine line to tread. But I think they nail it in that one. I love a bit of “clunk”.
Joe> I eventually found film sets completely and utterly boring. I noticed that unless you were the director or DOP then it was just a load of standing around all day counting cups of tea and coffee. For me editing was where the film is actually made anyway. So that is where I pointed myself towards. As I hopped from one freelance job to the next I found myself getting repeat business from comedy directors. Apparently comedy isn't something that everyone “gets”, I had no idea. As far as I'm concerned It's just a part of everyday life, part of being human. Luckily now we can cut on set really effectively, which makes being on set much more exciting, so much so, I can’t keep track of my intake of snacks.
Joe> The first ever editing I did for money was a curious thing.
A very successful professional high-up-the-ladder wanted the home movies of her child to be put together in such a way that would show that she had been around a lot for the child, not at work forging a career. Parental propaganda if you like. I could see why she would want that made. And to her credit, she made it happen and I happily accepted the cash. It set my moral compass for a journey into advertising.
Joe> I mean pure laughter is the most genuine thing I know. I think there can be nothing more unifying between people than to have a fit of hysterics with another person, or crying I guess, but let's not go there right now.
In another turn of the wheel I scored an editing job on some idents for Bombardier Beer, starring Rik. Another dream came true. We made about 50 scripts. It was a really naughty job, surprisingly only one of them got banned for linking sex to alcohol. It was only about 10 years ago, but these days I couldn't imagine any of them getting made, the social department of the agency would flag them for a potential pile-on and kill it (presumably because they would have to do some extra work.)
All I want to do is make funny little films with people who also like making funny little films, and the only place I can do that, and live on it, is in advertising. I feel very lucky to have gotten this far with it.
Joe> I am concerned that comedy in advertising is becoming less funny, it's almost like when you take away every possible way someone could find offence, you just get left with that awkward kind of comedy, which doesn't make anyone laugh, it just makes you go “Oh yeah, that's embarrassing when that happens.” It doesn't particularly tickle my funny bone.
Getting a funny ad on air is no easy thing. There are so many factors in the process that have the tendency to knock all the wildness, nuance, naughtiness, and joy out of it. So many sets of brakes slowing it down. I see it's my job, as the Director's right hand, to provide endless pressure on the gas pedal to keep the funny alive. I do see it as a war on boringness, fear and vanilla, and keep fighting for the funny to the end, with extra chocolate sauce and sprinkles.
Joe> Yeah I like that one where the woman’s car has broken down and she is laughing and keeps on laughing as her day gets worse. The reveal is that she is listening to some podcast or something. It’s a nice idea well executed.
I like the kind of funny films that start off like normal everyday life, something believable that you can buy into, then it takes you joyously somewhere else unexpected, before delivering you safely back to where you were, although never quite the same again.
A bit like that mushroom tea I was selling when I was eight.
Joe> Don’t Bring Me Back. I wrote a song for a government agency ad directed by Matt Carter to help protect the UK. It was probably one of the best public information films ever. I’m still waiting to be offered a knighthood for it (I’d turn it down obviously, but it would be nice of them to at least offer). Also once they started using the lyrics beyond the agreed date it gave me the chance to “friendly-threaten” the government with legal action, they gave me some more money instead. Which was very satisfying.
Joe> I got a call from Tiny Bullet to jump on a music video edit. I’d been pestering her to work with me for a while. I’d given up doing music videos a long time ago as they didn’t make financial sense for me, but I’d forgotten how much fun they are, and way easier than cutting a funny advert, well I suppose “easier” is maybe not the right word, more freeing perhaps. Less of a logic puzzle and more of an emotional journey vibe type thing. It was a really quick turnaround, but a really fun and exciting challenge. I'd like to do one a year now.
Joe> Well really now, that’s a great observation. I mean, I wouldn't be so arrogant as to suggest I'm radiating sunshine wherever I sit but I can't do anything about the facts speaking for themselves can I.