Every brief arrives full of hope. Every brief, at Bighead, meets DJ Dan, who has one idea and believes it is epic. And, to be fair to him, on day one, it usually is. This is the story of what happens next, told by the man who has to explain it to the trade press.
Round one: the presentation
Dan presents the idea. The room goes quiet. The client says “love it”, which in client means “we will now begin”. Dan says “epic” eleven times. I count. It is my job to count.
Rounds two to five: feedback
Can it be more like what our competitor did? Can it be less like what our competitor did? Can the logo be bigger? Can the logo be bigger again, and could it also move? Can the CEO's wife have a look, because she is very creative? She is not very creative.
Rounds six to nine: legal
Legal removes the joke. Legal removes the claim. Legal removes the word “best”, then the word “good”, then the colour red for reasons nobody will put in writing. Dan sits on the floor of the studio and asks for a moment. I give him a cigarette and a ██████ large gin.
Rounds ten to fourteen: the research group
Eight people in a room in Reading, paid in vouchers, decide the idea is “a bit much”. One of them asks if it could have a dog in it. The client loves the dog. Barry offers his. Malcom points out that he predicted all of this in round one, and he did, and nobody will ever forgive him.
The launch
What finally runs is ten per cent off, in the client's font, with a slightly bigger logo. Dan calls it epic, because Dan calls everything epic, and enters it for six awards. It wins one, which we sponsor. I write the press release, then a second press release explaining the first one. Crisis comms, as ever, entirely of our own making. My favourite kind.
