Rory AB Forrest is an award-winning writer, commercial film director, and advertising creative director with 15 years in the business. His commercial work is largely comedy, youth, and creator focused ranging from fast and funny visual gags achieved with camera-driven, technical storytelling through to music video, PSAs, and long form Y.A. scripted entertainment. His aesthetic is bright, colorful, and yet with a characterful eye for casting which delivers deeply human execution. He has unusually spent many years in the creator space co-creating, collaborating on, and directing everything from ads to whole shows of original IP with this talent. This work has aired across DirecTV, YouTube, and all social platforms, with talent such as Collins Key, Us The Duo, Andrea Russet, Grace Helbig, Miles McKenna and more. As a seasoned advertising CD, he is comfortable and understanding of both brand and agency needs at all stages in the process pre, during, and post shoot. He is also an author represented by The Rights Factory currently negotiating the publication of his debut novel.
Name: Rory AB Forrest
Location: London/Los Angeles
Repped by/in: Panamericana Pictures
Awards:
As director: Multiple Digiday, Streamys, Shortys, and Cannes Lions Shortlistings, and Digiday Ad of the Year.
As creative director: Same as above, plus, TikTok Creative of the Year, Campaign Social Campaign of the Year, British Arrows, multiple Gold Clios and Drum Gold.
Rory> Having spent most of my career as a Creative / Creative Director on the other side of the table, I get excited by the same things as any good agency or brand. Is it a killer idea? Is it a great strategy? Is it so cut-through it’ll get press even if it’s shot by an artichoke with a super-8 in total darkness? If any of those are true, we’re already onto a winner, and we can get on making the execution as great as it can be.
As a filmmaker though, I love scripts which create strange, playful, eye-popping visuals and call for the camera as an active character. Be it single snap/reveal gags, warping worlds, or teenage heads popping out of walls. The challenge of balancing the technical magic with landing the human, comedic, and emotional punches, to the level they properly transcend language, that’s joy for me.
Rory> It starts with remembering I’m lucky to be doing this job. It’s a privilege and pleasure. And then I get into it with the creatives as deep as I can.
My partner and I once wrote more than a thousand scripts, over eighteen months, and the client wrote their own idea anyway. We took a deep breath and rallied. We then talked to one director about it, and they gave us a whole bunch of attitude. Our minds were blown, and we never forgot it.
You have to remember you’re the fun end of someone else’s often difficult job, so for me, the treatment process is about willingly giving as much energy and excitement and active listening as possible. If the team can be re-invigorated by you, for what they and the client really love about this project, what they share in those moments will usually be the nuggets of what was great about the idea.
This gives you the proper foundations to build exceptional execution as you know what’s important to who and why. And you’ve come to understand and accept what limitations have been placed where and why. After that, you’re not wasting anyone’s time, enthusiasm, or budget when you open your magical box of tricks, including your own. You can just get on and play. Building the deck is the easy bit.
Rory> I honestly think it was one of the big subconscious appeals of getting into advertising. I love how it pushes me into worlds I would know nothing about otherwise; be it revolutionary France for video games, the intricate nature of truth and lies as understood by teenagers, nationwide telcom infrastructure, upcycled textiles for celebrities, or toothpaste.
It makes me happy to have an excuse for near-psychotic deep dive learning, hoovering through rabbit holes until you’re strangely conversant in something people have dedicated their lives to. Companies, industries, and products don’t exist for no reason, there’s always an enthralling human story to uncover or boggling innovation to understand. I love every bit of that process. It also helps you not make accidental silly mistakes which are probably glaring to the target viewer who already like or love the subject matter.
Rory> I’ve talked about creatives a lot so far, and I should probably say DP, but the honest answer is the producer.
Most agency creatives don’t know (or at least I never did) how in the ‘film as art’ business the director-producer relationship is more of a creative partnership than a financial or logistical exchange. You’re building the execution together. It’s a constant negotiation of what’s possible against why and how any detail changes the story. And just like any good creative team, you both need a working knowledge of each other’s discipline to throw ideas back and forth and find the best solution.
You are also on the job longest together. It starts and ends with you two. Any conversation you have with your producer will be the root of any other conversation you have with literally anyone else on the project, be it crew or client. And when you’re in sync there’s nothing like it, holding it in the air between you until everyone gets to see it in real life. At least that’s when it’s been most fun for me.
Rory> Comedy, Sci-fi, and anything by creators.
The pretentious explanation is all three are fundamentally about ideas, and performing the greatest amount in the shortest time with the biggest flare. Big ideas, small ideas, fast, slow, weird, wonderful, serious, or silly; the more densely packed, the more affecting, the more mesmerising it is to watch.
They’re all also about getting a reaction and holding attention. I can’t remember which comedian said it, but the great thing about a laugh is it’s against your will. You laughed. It already happened, and you’re semi-complicit while you unpack whether you even agree. And that’s some kind of joyful in-between state of consciousness. How big your reaction depends on how good the joke was, but you reacted nonetheless, and the best ads operate the same way. You’re given a strange hook, then a pay-off makes sense of it, but in so doing, tricks you into thinking differently about something you’ve been familiar with your whole life. Whether it’s something funny or mind-blowing about the universe, the magic’s already happened, and I like that sleight of hand.
The unprofessional honest-to-bones answer though, is I just enjoy them the most. They’re always what I channel to when no one else is looking.
Rory> Honestly, how many people still react negatively to working with creators. The majority of my work has been with this community of talent. Wider culture is radically more accepting post-TikTok, but in advertising, it’s still a huge problem.
I get it. As creatives we feel inherently challenged to have followers and perform too, but that isn’t the case. I only had an early advanced exposure to creators through my time at Fullscreen. A lot of people still don’t know Fullscreen but the company pretty much invented influencer marketing. Started by an ex-googler, it laid the foundations of the world we all now live in. You probably know Maker Studios but they came after. It was like discovering a new music industry, with its own heroes and villains, already there just one step out of view.
I was CD, and then a Group Programming Director, of the Strategic Content Group at Fullscreen for 5 years. We created original programming for brands like AT&T & Mattel, doing about 25 shows over that time, all using this new wave of creators blended with traditional talent, even in scripted. It's some of the work I’m most proud of--yes, for its creativity, but mostly for how effective, measurable, data inspired, and ultimately collaborative it was.
Say what you want about them, they’re building empires in dorm rooms, selling merch, and working for themselves, all while we’re sitting in offices. If we could do what they’re all doing, we would be, so why not just be excited to collaborate? They're excited to learn from you too, but only if you respect the work they’ve done, and that’s fair.
Rory> Any of my experience has usually been one or more steps removed as they’ve been working directly with the shoot or agency producers, but it’s always been seemingly reasonable. It’s business. I think we all can forget we are doing art-for-business and not art-for-art’s-sake a bit too often.
Rory> For me, the only crazy which ever creates any real problems is panic.
Something will go wrong on every set, something most likely beyond anyone’s control, you have to accept it. Either the talent is three hours late after their agent booked too many gigs back-to-back, or sections of toy car track placed all around the full length of Willow Springs Raceway under the furious summer SoCal sun are unexpectedly stretching, melting, or spiraling out of position (yes, this happened).
Maybe it’s the military upbringing, or maybe it’s the gratitude of coming to directing after advertising, but I’ve always been a meticulous planner with film and there’s rarely a problem which hasn’t been at least loosely accounted for ahead of time.
I draw all my own boards and will cut animatics long before shooting. More than once, the animations have shown a script’s main gag doesn’t land the same way it does on paper (or even the boards), but then we've then been able to workshop it with the team and even clients, well ahead of anyone picking up a c-stand. All it costs is paper, pens, and edit time, and I love that. I also always have pre-agreed shots or scenes which can be cut if needs be, and often have made animatics of those versions just to be sure too. And I co-write the schedules so I always know where we are to always make my day. A problem isn’t a problem if you’ve prepared for it, we just move into the next plan down the list.
And, I will say, the more you share your working through the process--earnestly showing you’re there to make it as good as possible rather than serving your own ego, and bringing everyone along--the less worrying there is. There shouldn’t be a reason for anyone to panic on set.
Rory> I want to playfully challenge the question a little here on where the conflict is. For starters, it’s the agency’s idea, one which the client already bought, and that’s long before we’re brought into the conversation. We’re the camera-carrying goal-hangers turning up at the end. If anyone’s the liability to a long-discussed idea it’s us, and forgetting that is why many directors can be liabilities.
If we have been hired, it’s usually because we understood some core of the idea and what it’s trying to achieve with a particular audience at a specific moment in culture, and our natural stylistic leanings feed into those design needs. We might be adding craft ideas, pushing it to whole new locations, characters, casting, costumes, even different wording in the script, but it’s all to better tell the story of the idea which was already there.
The idea is only ever protected when we’re all being collaborative. We’re all responsible for keeping it on track. Again, planning around any panic helps with this.
Of course, I get this is a question of conflict resolution, and we all know it can be a long process. Miscommunications or misunderstanding can easily happen among so many people working to tight deadlines for such long periods, especially when whole people or teams can switch out.
In which case, take a step back, and remember you’re probably being asked serious questions about water volume by smart adults, while you’re all filming a swimming pool full of milkshake. This is fun. Bring everyone back to that place. Drive the good energy in the room, even--and most especially--if no one else is. The director’s chair is a leadership role, so lead. Everyone’s looking to you because that’s the job, make it good for everyone.
Rory> Yes. Obviously yes. And more yes. Stories we’ve never heard, previously altered histories finally reckoned with, a present rightfully and continually questioned for its obvious insanities, and a future, if we do all this, with maybe a little hope. Who wouldn’t want this?
And besides, from a cold business perspective, work by-and-for diverse groups has never been more valued culturally or financially. It’s part of what’s made the ESG debate such a politicized issue. We have everything to gain.
I also obviously have to address the pink elephant in the room. I am indeed a cis-genered, mostly-straight white guy from a country where socialism isn’t a bad word. And while I didn’t grow up wealthy, with a father who joined the military to escape the warzone of Northern Ireland, I’m still riding on the generational, systemic, daily advantages of those personal features just by being. I have lived a secure life in the global north, one of higher education and a career around the world. These are the facts and I can’t deny them or pretend they don’t matter, however I can actively continue to unpack and understand them, and as much as possible leverage them into positive value for others and society at large. And I don’t mean in some sense of saviorism, we’ve all had enough of that.
For what it’s worth, I’ve always been part of, or wholly set up, creative education, mentorship, and development programs in every company I’ve worked throughout my career, and have consistently pushed diversity when hiring in agencies or on my sets. I also worked for years with the Trevor Project, and actively driven creative which educates and informs, especially for young people. But there is always more to do.
It’s part of why I’m so honored to be part of Panamericana. They are actively breaking the international boundaries, bias, and oppressive structures of the advertising and entertainment businesses just by existing, let alone by the successful path they’re forging. This is the change in motion, I’m grateful to be part of it, and anything I can do to help push that forward I will. And that’s all before getting to how killer the Panamericana work is, the other directors kick my ass.
Rory> The borders broken by getting access to different talent pools in different territories is thrilling post-pandemic. So too is the content produced in other parts of the world gaining easy visibility through international streamers. The talent and capabilities in the Americas which Pana offers, at all stages of the process, is super exciting.
I also like how it’s made us all a little softer and kinder with each other, putting mental health on the collective agenda, especially in industries which have known extremes of toxicity like advertising and entertainment. Hell knows I needed the therapy.
Rory> We all live in this reality now. I find it’s best to not think of it as formats, and instead remember how we each normally walk through and experience the world. When and how do we most enjoy a brand turning up in our lives. F1 have been killer with this change: a show here, race on Sunday, Instagram post of highlights or reminder to tune in, and a watch ad with Lando in an airport. To everyone else who doesn’t work in our world, it’s all just F1.
Besides, shoots are expensive, we should be excited to squeeze every last drop out of them, so it’s on my mind from the beginning. I also love seeing how differently funny the same joke feels in half a second, seven, or sixty.
I do make practical shooting choices for this too though, as it suits my style of work. Editing and post are just as much a part of the shoot for me, so I try to give myself as many lego pieces when I get there. If I can, I will shoot large-format, at the highest res we can afford (preferably 6-8k), and usually always run at least double or triple speed, even in dialogue, so any moment can be slowed down. I’ll also frame about 15-20% wider than any intended export shape for each shot, while giving myself a minimum of 3-5 second handles on the beginning and end of every take, ten if we end on a face.
Put it all together and this means every camera-settle doesn’t need to be perfect as I can guarantee it to be symmetrical later. It also means that best performance with the accidental off-framing is a take I can still use. And because I’ve shot at high speed, I have room to play with that zoomed in emotional insert of the knowing expression the actor gave after they’d thought we’d cut. Which also means I need less takes overall and can get through a lot more set-ups in a day.
Sorry to every DP who’s skin is crawling right now, but it’s what works for me. I will watch every second of what we capture, and there will be all sorts of unexpected stuff perfect for trailers, showreels, social posts, thumbnails, and even print at that resolution. For me it only helps and is better value for money.
Rory> The 'why are we all in this room', is still the most important question.
I think virtual production is a marvel of mathematics and ingenuity, with huge potential for producing incredibly cost effective storytelling. But outside of the child in me just being impressed, you absolutely have to know what the point of what you’re doing is.
It’s the same with AI. Its purpose or application is still a human question, even GPT4 is still call and response unless you jailbreak it. Whatever you’re doing is still driven by decision makers, and ultimately the people paying. Any and every film-making tech is another part of an ever-expanding magical cave which only exists to serve our role of creating human connection. Even the story itself was a kind of technology once, used around campfires to stop people getting eaten by tigers.
In fact, we humans naturally-selected ourselves via this tiger method to be 22% more likely to remember information we’re told in a story. Which is why jingles, rhymes, sticky-language, end-lines, SEO, reward-tactics learned with mice employed by gaming, and ultimately ads, all work. All of it is tools, and you can only know if you’re using the right ones, if you know what you’re doing and why.
1) Guilty Party : History of Lying.
This was the flagship series of our five year AT&T Hello Lab platform. The show budget of around $1.5M just for production, so not including writing, talent, staff, delivery etc. It’s 10 episodes and has 13 main cast who are a blend of creator and traditional talent. Aired on DirecTV but operated across all social platforms at once, including discord while it was live. And it was a YA who-done-it in which every character represented a different kind of lying, aiming to teach young people how to tell the truth from lies during a Trump presidency. It won awards, was written up by Variety, and had its premiere in the same theater as First Man. It’s the thing I’m proudest of in my professional career to date.
2) Band Together for #LaterHaters
This was a brief to create a one-minute piece of content to run at the start of live creator shows, sponsored by AT&T’s already award-winning anti-cyberbullying initiative #Laterhaters. I love this spot for everything we’ve talked about above, so many fun and practical cinematic tricks, but with so much heart. Super proud of it.
3) Janey Is Not Nice
I love this spot because I feel like it’s probably the best balance of silly and commercial cool that I’ve done. The two lead talent are also both influencers, which again shows how capable the creator talent can be when collaborated with properly. And this one ended up being exactly the same, frame by frame, as our final animatic but went through many versions. It was where we really honed and understood how useful a tool that was.
4) Go Big or Stay Home
These two are just great examples of how simple, fun, and fast a singular visual gag can be. Interesting angles, active camera, a fun physical build, playful visual, and some great performance. I just love this kind of commercial.