Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Comedians, Context, Culture, Emotion, Racism
When you have written a blog as long as I have, people often think they know me. And they do – to a degree. But as much as I have talked about things that really open up my emotions – from death to birth to suicide to errrrm, the size of my best friends appendage – who I am on this blog is only a part of who I am.
Whether that is a good part is open to discussion, but what I’m trying to say it’s different to what old friends and colleagues have experienced with me.
Not massively different, but different all the same.
More nuance. More history. More context. More highs and lows.
I say this because I recently read a brilliant article that reminded me of this fact.
In some ways, I feel I’ve known Sanjeev Bhaskar forever.
He has seemingly been on my television screen since the dawn of time.
Except it’s not true.
He appeared on BBC 2 in 1998 with the show, Goodness Gracious Me.
Oh what a show that was …
Brilliant for both its comedy and its gentle destruction of the prejudice Asian families have had to – and continue to – endure in the UK with white people.
And yet I wonder if everyone actually realises that?
Since then, Sanjeev has been on our screens forever. Both because of his talent as a comedian, director, writer and actor and also because British television has found it hard to give Asian talent a platform to showcase their talent so he became one of the ‘go to’s’ for British Television when an Asian presence was required on a show.
In other words, his success is down to talent and racism.
That must be a hell of an issue to deal with.
Oh people may say, “what’s it matter … he’s famous and rich” … but putting aside the fact no one knows how wealthy he is, money doesn’t mean you are immune from feelings.
And yet despite that burden, he comes across as such a kind, compassionate man.
To be honest, I kind of thought he was before I read the article … but it is in understanding where he has come from, what he has dealt with, what he believes that I realise that I knew such a sliver of how wonderful a human he really is.
And I appreciate this revelation still comes from reading an article rather than meeting the person … but if he comes across as open, generous and grounded as he does in an article, the real person cam only be even better.
The interview covers a huge amount of subjects …
His grandfather in India.
The bullying he went through at school.
That BBC executives only saw him because they tossed a coin whether to see his show or go to the pub.
His parents immense pride that their son has met the Queen and likes his show.
The utter stupidity of racism.
His belief in the younger generation to make everything better.
Love.
It’s truly a joy to read, but there’s one quote I really connected to.
Maybe because in some small way – despite our vastly different reasons and circumstances – I felt it and feel it too.
“If 14-year-old me could see where I am now, he’d tell me to piss off. [As in it was unbelievable rather than undesirable] But I want to tell him that we will make it out of that launderette and even become friends with some of those people on our bedroom wall. For all the shit we went through, with luck and without, it leads us here.”
It’s so well worth a read.
It also has made me hope I get to meet Sanjeev one day.
So I can learn more about the real person.
Who I have now started to see as a quiet revolutionary of hope and love rather than just a talented writer, comedian, director and actor.
Thank you Sanjeev.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Audio Visual, Authenticity, Comedians, Comment, Content, Context, Craft, Creative Brief, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Documentary, Entertainment, Immaturity, Mischief, Netflix
Congratulations on surviving the first week back of this blog.
Remember, the good news is there’s no more posts till next Tuesday thanks to yet another holiday in New Zealand. If I knew I’d be having this big a break at the start of the year, I’d have moved here 6 years ago when I first had the chance.
It’s utterly mad, which is the perfect segue to another example of madness.
Have a look at this:
That, my friends, is apparently a genuine tweet.
Someone believes a video made by Mr Beast somehow proves the creator community is the ultimate in power, influence and success because – according to them – it got more views in less time than the original Netflix show.
How many flaws can we spot in that statement?
Look, I’m not doubting the creator community can have incredible influence over culture.
I’m not doubting the creator community can attract incredible amounts of ‘views’.
I’m not doubting the creative credentials of Mr Beast [who I do enjoy following].
But apart from the fact the Mr Beast video actually took 10 years and 7 weeks to make as it required Squid Games to be written, produced and streamed prior to Mr Beast being approached by a company to ‘re-create it’ for his channel … not to mention it didn’t make nearly as much money, or have as great an impact on sales of Van’s as the original … literally copying something someone else created is the absolute opposite of what ‘creator community’ is supposed to mean.
Don’t get me wrong, the creator community is a brilliant thing.
I genuinely love it.
But there are millions of people who are putting in so much effort to make ‘content’ and often only end up with a few likes rather than real revenue. And even those who do make it big, still earn less than the biggest stars of ‘traditional’ film making – so the promise of the community may not be as bright as some think it is.
At least right now.
I’ve blanked the name of the person who wrote the tweet to protect their delusion, but it kind of reinforces my post from last year about the fine line between entrepreneurs and parasites.
In the 80/90’s, a number of UK up and coming comedian created a group called ‘Comic Strip ‘.
The comedians were Rik Mayall, Jennifer Saunders, Adrian Edmondson, Dawn French, Nigel Planer, Peter Richardson, Jennifer Saunders and Alexei Sayle.
So basically the foundation of British comedy television for the next 30+ years.
Anyway, Comic Strip was basically a creative vehicle for them to make a bunch of programs for Channel 4.
One of them was called Bad News, a ‘rockumentary’ about a fictitious heavy metal band trying to hit the big time. Yes, the premise sounds awfully like the movie ‘Spinal Tap’ … however Bad News came out the year before that seminal movie, so it’s just a bizarre coincidence.
So in the show, the guitarist, Vim Fuego – played by Ade Edmondson – tells the interviewer that he is a better guitarist than Led Zeppelin’s Jimmy Page.
His reason for saying that is because he could play the solo to Stairway To Heaven when he was 13 but Jimmy couldn’t even write the song until he was 26.
Later in the program, he said John Lennon had visited him in a dream and gave him a song. He decided to call it Imogen. And when the interviewer said the name – and the melody – were suspiciously like the Lennon classic, Imagine … he claimed he’d never heard of it.
Of course, all of this was supposed to be great comedy, but with views like the twitter writer above, apparently it was simply an example of future human delusion.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Comedians, Comment, Communication Strategy, Confidence, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Empathy, Equality, Management, Perspective, Planners, Planning, Prejudice, Relevance, Resonance, Standards
Many years ago, I wrote a training guide called, How to ask questions without being a bitch.
It happened because a junior account service colleague at Wieden didn’t know how to get clients to acknowledge her and the questions she had.
This was not because she wasn’t good, but because of gender stereotypes.
Well recently, I had a similar experience, except this time it was a brilliant strategist that a mutual friend of ours had introduced me to.
In my time in LA, I’ve met a whole host of strategists and – as I wrote a while back – many have left me feeling indifferent.
But not this person.
She was more than one of the good ones, she was one of the best.
Sharp as hell.
Unique – yet well thought out – perspectives.
A genuine love of being creative in interesting ways.
Anyway, as we were talking, I said I’d be really interested in hearing – or reading – her perspective on the future of storytelling. For some reason, she said yes and a few weeks I received a great paper with a great perspective.
Except there was one thing I didn’t like.
“The surprising part of this was the fact that my mentor, a white man, erudite and well-known in his profession, cared about my opinion. To give you some background – I’m in my 30s, a mixed bag of races, city kid, raised by a single mom type through and through. I’m a decade into my career and this was the first time I was asked to share my perspective by someone that, for all intents and purposes, matters.”
I hate it.
I hate that this was the first time she felt she was asked for her opinion.
I hate it for the shit she has obviously had to put up with in her life.
I hate the baggage that has weighed her down.
I hate the low expectations she had been forced to endure.
I hate the bosses she’s had that have told her to follow orders rather than encourage her to find her own voice.
And while she finished her paper with a resolve to not let this shit quieten her ever again, I’m still angry that a great talent has had to put up with shit designed to keep her down rather than lift her up, which is why I ask her – and any other planner who relates to this situation – to embrace my paraphrasing of the advice comedian Michelle Wolf received when she was about to take the stage at the White House Correspondence’s dinner, at the top of this page.
Burn it all down.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Comedians, Comment, Creativity, Culture, Entertainment, Insight
Growing older is a pain-in-the ass.
Even if your mind is still young and active, your body is losing its energy and gaining a bunch of aches and pains.
Is it any wonder so many people spend so much money trying to pointlessly fight it?
But there are some advantages to age.
One of them is not giving a fuck anymore.
I don’t mean that in the sense of not caring about people or progress or learning. I mean it in the sense of realising how little of the stuff we passionately believe are important are actually important.
And to me, this is enlightening and liberating all at the same time.
It enables you to see what can actually change stuff.
What can actually make a difference.
Of course, being old doesn’t automatically mean you have this ability – just like being young doesn’t automatically disqualify you from having this ability – but without doubt, experience gives you an ability to see through the clutter and bullshit and that is most definitely a gift.
Over the years I’ve written this blog, one person I’ve constantly referenced is Sir Ken Robinson … more specifically, his incredible TedTalk about creativity.
One of the reasons I love it so much is that he helps us see all the layers of bullshit we have added to the education system.
Layers that ironically undermine kids ability to learn rather than enhance it.
Well recently I saw another speech that asks us to question stuff.
Stuff we think is important but could be more of a hinderance.
However instead of coming from a very funny academic, it comes from a very funny comedian.
John Cleese.
Now of course this shouldn’t come as a surprise because as I wrote a long time ago, comedians have incredible insight, however what Cleese offers is more than that … he challenges us to consider how much we undermine our potential by allowing things we think are important to interfere with the things that really are.
And while this brilliant stream of consciousness explains the importance of clarity and creativity, he gives us something more than that.
He reminds us that getting old might not be as bad as we may often think.
As long as we live a life of experiences rather than comfort.
Which is another lesson worth remembering.
Filed under: Comedians
A very long time ago, I wrote a post about why I sometimes work with comedians.
I don’t mean ‘bad ad people’, I literally mean comedians.
Anyway, the reason I write this is because I recently watched an episode of Louie C K’s television show and came across a scene that was not only funny but was moving and incredibly revealing.
I love it.
I think it’s fantastic.
Apart from the writing, the other thing I love are the pauses.
Big, long pauses of nothingness.
To be honest, that technique used to be the domain of British drama … where directors appreciated a moment of silence could sometimes say more than a flurry of words, but over time – in these highly commercialised times – that trait has been lost so it’s wonderful to see it again in all its power and glory.
But back to the scene.
The reason I like it so much is not just because it reveals what truly goes on in the minds and hearts of overweight people [yes, it’s focused on women, but it also says a lot about men – especially middle-aged, overweight men], but highlights how many brands just get it wrong when they talk about health and vitality.
Hell, even when they’re trying to guilt-trip people into action, the points they raise are still a few degrees off truly connecting with where people’s heads are at.
The insecurities they face go way beyond how others judge them – it’s more how they feel they’ll never really get out of life what they believed they could … or should … especially compared to so many others around them.
Is this right?
Is this fair?
Is this changeable?
They are questions that – in some ways – don’t matter, because it’s not a rational argument, it’s almost entirely emotional.
As much as I hated Sex and the City, the one thing I definitely appreciated was their acknowledgement of insecurity.
That behind the face – whether it was young, fresh and successful or old, wrinkled and more humble – were opinions, thoughts and views that ravaged beliefs, attitude and confidence.
Or said another way.
Behind every face – regardless of how you may appear to the outside World – are dirty little secrets that conspire to continually fill you with doubt and anxiety.
You might be great at hiding from it. You may be well versed in ignoring it. But – as the wonderful Dove campaign from last year showed, you are never able to get away from it.
Of course knowing this offers agencies and brands 2 choices.
1. Exploit it for commercial gain.
2. Show how you can get passed it for commercial gain.
But as this sketch shows, at least to me, it’s not necessarily about highlighting the pain or showing the solution, sometimes the greatest thing you can do is simply offer a little gesture – like holding someone’s hand – because that shows you understand the situation without having to highlight the situation and for some, that can mean more to them than a World of [false] promises and hope.
As men – and seemingly brands and agencies – fail to understand time and time again, sometimes it’s not about offering a fix, it’s just offering an ear.