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Another week, another festival microblog. The weekend just gone saw 4Talent head to Birmingham’s Custard Factory to bring you Twitter updates from the small but noisily formed Supersonic, featuring a dream line-up of sludgey, grungey, kraut-rocking noise for those who like their music uncompromisingly large of sound and eclectic of source. For those who couldn’t make it, we’ll be rolling out our interviews with teen screamers Rolo Tomassi, local lads Einstellung and the ever popular Fuck Buttons on 4Talent Central over the coming week.

But forget Supersonic for a moment and cast your mind back all of three weeks to grande dame of festivals Glastonbury, where amidst the excitement of secret gigs from Franz Ferdinand, being roped in at the last minute to interview James Blunt for Oxfam, and doing our bit for the planet by taking tea to Oxfam volunteers in a battered jeep, we just about found the time to run a live Twitter competition from the festival site.

We’re now pleased to be able to announce the winner of said competition, who with the best answer to our Oxfam-sponsored question “What gets your knickers in a twist?” will be joining us at sold-out Bestival in September to interview an artist for a 4Talent podcast. The winner, 19 year old Frankie Ward, persuaded us with an answer we couldn’t agree with more. So what, exactly, gets Frankie’s knickers in a twist? That would be: “Interviewers asking bands who they’re doing, not what they’re doing.”

Currently on a work experience placement with BBC Kent, Frankie is an aspiring journalist whose festival experiences this summer have already included standing in for teen folk sensation Laura Marling (pictured below) on stage with the Mystery Jets at Lounge on the Farm. Watch this space for her 4Talent Bestival podcast in September…


Laura Marling at Glastonbury getting her knickers in a twist.

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Next on 4 is Channel 4’s vision for the future. Fresh talent, fresh perspectives, youth, diversity and innovation in all its forms will lead and shape the channel’s content in the years to come. So with our readers in mind, we asked those at the commissioning coalface what’s pushing their buttons in 2008.

 

Who we spoke to:

Liam Humphreys, Commissioning Editor, Features | Walter Iuzzolino, Deputy Head, Features | Dominique Walker, Commissioning Editor, Factual Entertainment | Alistair Pegg, Editor, Factual Entertainment | Ruby Kuraishe, Editor, Factual Entertainment, E4 | Simon Dickson, Deputy Head, Documentaries | Meredith Chambers, Commissioning Editor, Documentaries | Kate Vogel, Editor, 3 Minute Wonder | Jan Younghusband, Commissioning Editor, Arts & Performance | Shane Allen, Commissioning Editor, Comedy | Andy Auerbach, Commissioning Editor, Entertainment | Matt Locke, Commissioning Editor, Education | Jo Roach, Commissioning Editor, Education | Kevin Sutcliffe, Deputy Head, News & Current Affairs | Camilla Campbell, Commissioning Editor, Drama | Adam Gee, Commissioning Editor, New Media Factual | Aaquil Ahmed, Commissioning Editor, Religion | David Glover, Commissioning Editor, Science | Katherine Butler, Head of Development, Film4 | Ade Rawcliffe, Diversity & Talent Manager | Alison Walsh, Editorial Manager, Disability.

 

Browse all the responses >

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Image by Tom Gaul

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This post forms part of a series. Read the first installment.

Words: Pete Ashton
Illustration: Raymond Weekes

Now let’s say that you’re actually really boring. There’s a market for what you do but to be honest the mechanisms of how you do it aren’t really of interest to anyone. Or let’s say you just don’t want to communicate all this fluffy personal nonsense. Blogging as I’ve described it here just doesn’t interest you in the slightest. Allowing for the fact that you probably haven’t read this far (which, if you’ll forgive me, demonstrates a limitation of the magazine form - online this “post” would stand alone and those for whom it might be relevant would find it through Google regardless of what came before or after it on the blog itself) the blogging form still has value to you.

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You’ve probably heard the term Web 2.0. If you’ve investigated it a bit you might think it has to do with something called User Generated Content and heralds a revolution whereby professionals are overthrown in favour of the amateur masses, or somesuch nonsense. While this is a side-effect of the blogging revolution it’s not what’s really important about it. What’s really interesting is that the internet is starting to be populated by data that is structured and interchangeable according to established standards.

To illustrate what this means think of a library full of books. Every book is different with unique content but there are aspects of the books that fit into categories. The title, author, publisher, Dewy Decimal categories, dimensions, ISBN, and so on. This information can be indexed by the library to not only identify what shelf the book is held on but how it relates to other books in the collection, very handy for books that cover a number of different subjects.

Most blogging services, along with services like Flickr and YouTube, structure the information you put into them in a similar way. So a blog post has at the very least a title, date, category, and the content itself. And because this is based on accepted standards all this information is interchangeable. Which means anyone can take your content and stick it into a giant database automatically. And then people can ask this database questions and find relevant and accurate information which may well include your content.

You might hear people talking about arcane and mysterious arts like Search Engine Optimisation but this is pretty much all there is to it. Put your stuff online in a manner in which Google can understand it and you’ll appear in the relevant search results. If you have photos on Flickr that are accurately tagged in relation to their subject then they’ll appear in the searches for those subjects.

You don’t have to run a “blog” in the accepted sense of the word in order to get into this game. It’s just that blogs automatically structure themselves in this way and since they’re very easy to use it makes sense to take advantage of this. This YouTube video called Web 2.0 Machine explains this rather well. And when you’re doing this, have a think about how that little search query works for a piece of video. It’s all about the metadata, a piece of jargon which simply means “data about data”. Give you stuff metadata and people will find it. If you don’t have properly structured metadata your website will just sit there with nobody finding it, no matter how lovely it looks.

< Week 6: first impressions

Next in the series: in conclusion >

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Adam started his career in filmmaking, producing ads, pop promos and short film for clients such as BA, British Heart Foundation and bands from Divine Comedy to Skint’s Space Raiders. He has spent the past few years as a project manager running film-making competitions for teenagers whilst also pursuing his love of photography. He prefers to photograph people as they have better facial expressions than buildings or landscapes.

www.florianfilm.co.uk
adam@florianfilm.co.uk

Adam Mattison-Ward

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In the brief pockets of time between working as Deputy Editor on 4Talent Scotland, Development Researcher at Synchronicity Films and freelance Czech/Russian/French-English translator, Colette enjoys drinking Lambrini and watching TV. Bored of Facebook, she is using the time saved to write a rom-com about intergalactic arms-dealers. This will be awesome.

cmagee@channel4.co.uk

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This post forms part of a series. Read the first installment.

Words: Pete Ashton
Illustration: Raymond Weekes

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So here you are, trying to turn your creative skills into a business that pays your bills and here I am telling you not to worry about the polish of what you’re putting on the internet. Isn’t that a bit like meeting your bank manager dressed in torn jeans, and chewing gum? Sure, it might be you but is it wise? That’s ultimately a decision you’re going to have to make for yourself, but be aware that blogging doesn’t dictate a particular style. You can be as formal and polished as you want.

In fact, taking a bit of care over your words and presentation can be rather refreshing and make you stand out from the crowd. And you don’t have to completely be yourself. This is the Internet so feel free to invent aspects of your character and play with them. You could even pretend your business is a corporation with offices around the world rather than based in your kitchen and push this spoof to absurd limits. Maybe your ‘factory’ is staffed by sentient robots or something. The possibilities are endless, really.

But above all remember that the blog doesn’t replace other more traditional forms of marketing. You’re probably still going to need some kind of brochure that looks all slick and some kind of formal business statement stuff. An analogy I like to use is a high street shop.

The window display is slick and probably dictated by the bods in head office. People glance at it and know immediately what they’re getting. It’s beautifully designed and communicates the message well. So the potential customer comes into the shop and starts chatting to the guy behind the counter. He’s a little hungover and stressed but very passionate about the products on sale and has the sort of knowledge that comes from being immersed in an industry. As it happens they don’t have what the customer wants so he sends them to a similar shop down the road but the customer is impressed with the service and likes this guy on a personal level so they make a point of coming back.

Assuming you’re a sole trader your best marketing tool is yourself. If you’re running a stall at a craft market or pitching your film to funders your personality is going to go a long way to clinching the deal. The same goes for online. You need to complement the lovely photos of your work with a bit about yourself. And, in my experience, the simplest way to do that is to tell your story in a blog.

< Week 5: what about me?

Next in the series: plugging into the system >

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This post forms part of a series. Read the first installment.

Words: Pete Ashton
Illustration: Raymond Weekes

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Now, reading all this you might be saying, “This is all well and good but, frankly, I can’t write,” and that’s a fair comment. After all, you’ve chosen the medium of film or clay or needlepoint rather than wordsmithing for a reason. How do you join this global conversation if you sort of write like a 10-year-old? Here’s a few ideas for a few sorts of creatives:

Cartoonist: Diary comics are a no brainer really. Don’t worry if your life is boring, just think of it as a daily drawing exercise.
Pottery: Video the creation of your pots, especially if you use a wheel.
Animator: As you’re working on a piece post up stills and trial clips.
Photographer: Go play on Flickr for a while and feed your work (and others’) into your blog.
Textiles: Photos of works in progress. Model clothes yourself.

You can probably adapt those ideas to all manner of things and no doubt think of many better ones.

But the big thing here is not to worry about creating something worthy of a Pulitzer on your blog. Use it to record what you’re up to. If you’re selling at a market take photos. If you’re giving a talk, record it and make the audio / video available. If you’ve been thinking about issues related to your craft, jot down some notes and ideas. Treat it as a scrapbook for your journey as a whatever-you-are.

And here’s the thing. No matter how mundane it might seem to you it’ll be fascinating to those who can’t do what you do, especially if they’re interested in the stuff you do, and they’re the sort of people you want to be interested in you.

< Week 4: getting personal

Next in the series: first impressions >

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This post forms part of a series. Read the first installment.

Words: Pete Ashton
Illustration: Raymond Weekes

Blimey, I went off on one there. Sorry about that. You just want to know how you can use a blog to increase the audience and customer base for your creative endeavor and here I am wittering on about causality and intertwingularity and stuff. So let’s bring this down to earth with some real world examples.

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Say you’re a photographer looking to develop your business in the area of portraiture and wedding photography. You’ve got a lovely website that shows off your best work and maybe even a section where clients and their friends and family can order prints online. Now, part of your appeal is your skill with the camera but another important part is your personality. You’re not just selling your art, you’re selling yourself.

Now you could have a page on your site with a biography but that’ll probably come all all contrived. What you want to do is talk to the potential clients in your own voice, telling them your story. A good example would be stevegerrarddiary.com where the titular photographer Steve Gerrard writes about the work he’s been doing. The hook is his jobs tend to veer between beautiful wedding shoots and dirty rock photography so each post will usually have a selection of shots from a couple’s happiest day juxtaposed with some hairy monster screaming on stage.

But that’s not why it works. What really comes home to me is how Steve’s character is brought out through the blog as he talks about his strange life. You feel like you know him and his family. Not too much, mind. He’s careful to keep the private private. But just enough that you’d feel comfortable asking him to record your wedding. At least I know I would.

Another great example is theblackapple.typepad.com, brought to my attention by Antonio Gould in is fifth New Media 4Cast for 4Talent. Here Emily Martin blogs about the stuff she sells on her etsy.com site. Etsy is sort of like eBay without the auctions and only for handmade items but while it’s great that you’re in a curated space (rather like, say, Camden market) it can be hard to rise above the crowds. You need to add more that just the details the site will let you enter. You need to add yourself. Emily does this brilliantly with her blog talking about the new products in her store, the motivations for creating them, and dropping in little nuggets about her own life. Again, nothing too detailed but enough that her readers can identify with her as an individual. And judging by the number of comments each post gets she’s developed a pretty dedicated community.

But there’s one very important thing that both Steve and Emily do that I haven’t mentioned. They both link to “the competition”, in Steve’s case other photographers he knows and likes, in Emily’s case other Etsy shops she buys stuff from. In a small way they’re setting themselves up as resources for their communities, partly because it makes sense to support your peers to build a sustainable environment but also because they’re human and that’s what humans do. And as other bloggers in their communities do the same the effect is quite dramatic as a network emerges that is structured and easily navigable yet always changing and evolving as people come and go. Nobody ever has a complete handle on what’s going on and no-one is in charge but it works.

< Week 3: everything is intertwingled

Next in the series: what about me? >

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Words: Catherine Bray

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Mike Leigh’s award-winning Happy-Go-Lucky was touted as a change of pace for a director of reputedly dour films. Here, he sets the record straight and tells us exactly why he’s pleased to have made an anti-miserablist, anti-Hollywood piece of art.

 


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“People can talk any amount of crap they like. Anyone who wants to say Happy-Go-Lucky is devoid of social commentary is just plain stupid.” Mike Leigh is coming out fighting, or at least wearily prepared to rebuff the flurry of film press articles seemingly desperate to foist a Leigh-goes-fluffy angle on the Brit director’s latest film about chirpy primary school teacher Poppy.

“Obviously this film has got plenty to say about the way we live; the way we teach; the way we learn; the way we have relationships; the way we interact with people; the way people accumulate ideas and don’t know what to do with them. It’s a film about love; surviving; dealing with problems - I mean, you name it,” he continues. “It’s rooted in social issues, so in that sense it’s implicitly political. It’s just not a tract; it’s not a piece of propaganda of some kind.”

In non-descript slacks, military green shirt, navy sleeveless fleece and neatly-trimmed beard, Mike looks more like an off-duty bus driver when we meet in the Soho Hotel than any stereotypical mirror-shaded, mad-haired, multi-award-winning director. Mid-way through the press period for his then yet-to-be released film, the idiosyncratic director has had plenty of chance to get bored of explaining that he hasn’t made a Bridget Jones-style tale of a single London lady’s trials and tribulations.

But at least on the surface, the film in question - Happy-Go-Lucky - confounds some expectations of what a Mike Leigh film might be like. This is after all the man who brought us the neurotic, middle-class tension of Abigail’s Party, the proto-Shameless travails of Life Is Sweet, a rapist for a protagonist in Naked, the bleak backstreet abortion drama of Vera Drake, and countless other explorations of the kind of themes you won’t see Jerry Bruckheimer going near any time soon.

Happy-Go-Lucky, by contrast, follows the mostly cheery everyday adventures of a North London primary school teacher as she begins driving lessons with pitiable conspiracy theorist Scott. There are no abortions, rapes or deaths. As Mike would probably be quick to point out, this is a simplistic, plot-oriented way of arriving at the conclusion that Happy-Go-Lucky marks some kind of Pollyanna watershed in his body of work.

Mike Leigh films do all have something in common, but that something is not misery. Even his bleakest films have plenty of humour, making the Mike Leigh x-factor hard to pin down.”My impulse, my compunction, is to make films that show life in a real way, as it is,” he suggests. “So why manufacture a kind of quasi, pseudo-moral thing?”

It’s clear that in attempting to pin down common characteristics in his work, it’s almost easier to talk about what a film is not. Which is precisely what Mike does when I suggest that it’s good to see a wholesome character not punished somehow for her wide-eyed approach to life: “The putative film you’re implicitly invoking, which is the film where somebody’s goodness comes back to haunt them, is simply another sort of film with another set of preoccupations.”

Such precise, almost lawyerly, language - putative, implicit, invoke - betrays an interviewee who doesn’t suffer fools gladly, and, you sense, has had to deal with a number of misconceived interpretations of this film.Mike states baldly: “I’m not concerned to create synthetic plot-lines, and patronise the audience accordingly. People have said, ‘Why doesn’t something horrible happen to her?’ Actually, when she’s finally in the car with Scott in that last driving lesson, it pretty well does, but she knows how to deal with it.”

It’s from the apparent cul-de-sac of imaginary patronising films that one of Mike’s central concerns emerges: the irrelevance of Hollywood to what he sees as worthwhile in film. I ask why films crammed with synthetic plotlines that patronise the audience are so popular - people seem to watch them?

“The question is not so much why people watch them: they watch them because they’re there,” he argues. “Why are those films there? is the question. And the answer to that, I’m afraid, goes back to the roots of how cinema in the world functions. Somewhere during the First World War, and then helped by the entry into the Second World War of the United States, Hollywood started to dominate the world market with the ethos that films have to be simplistic and formulaic. Sadly, we’re all imbued with that.”

As his new film suggests, it’s not all doom and gloom in the film industry according to Mike. “Actually, at any given moment - even as we speak - there are all sorts of interesting, entertaining, important films being made in different languages that don’t embrace those formulaic criteria.”It’s a bracket in which this director would place his own work: “I see my films in a world cinema context, not an Anglo-Hollywood context. But people see film this way, and watch Hollywood pictures, because that’s what’s there.”What’s there is starting to change with the advent of long-tail distribution, something Mike implicitly welcomes: “The good news is, partly because some barriers have been broken down and partly because of DVD, what people are watching is getting to be more comprehensive.”

But what constitutes a good film? The London-based director is certainly not anti-American per se. Just one of his favourite recent films, Irish effort Garage, doesn’t hail from the States, although the directors he salutes - the Coen Brothers, Paul Thomas Anderson, Jason Reitman - are broadly on the indie side of things.Expanding on what makes a good film, the idea of veracity is crucial to Mike: “To me, a film can only be interesting if it’s rooted in reality. Things can only be funny if they’re rooted in reality, and things can only be tragic if they’re rooted in reality. All those elements, so far as I’m concerned, are on the go in this film.”

All of this is central to understanding how this director works. His ‘process’ is legendary, and it repels some actors just as it repeatedly attracts others, with regulars having included Timothy Spall, Alison Steadman (Mike’s ex-wife), Lesley Manville and Jim Broadbent.There is no script for a Mike Leigh film, simply an idea, and a lengthy rehearsal process will involve workshopping characters, improvising dialogue and scenes, with Mike then tying the emergent material into a collaborative, coherent whole. As the man himself - who has been tagged ‘Britain’s Bergman’ - puts it: “Films like this come out of a warm, sharing collaboration. The whole thing about directing, authority and all those things isn’t really relevant.”

Beginning his career with a stint at RADA and a couple of 1963 bit-part TV and film roles, Mike is hugely enthusiastic about acting as a craft. “I love it. I love actors. Having started life training as an actor, to me my mission in life is to elevate acting to being a creative art, and to elevate actors to being creative artists, not just people who show up, read their lines and, like we used to say, don’t fall over the furniture.”

It’s a subject on which Mike can enthuse at length, and in doing so, he loosens up a lot. He expresses deep affection for his band of regulars and when asked whether he keeps up with the careers of favourites like Timothy Spall his accent broadens as he replies with a cackle, “Can’t help it mate! If Tim’s on I’ll go out of my way to see it. I stay friends with actors and hang out with them.”

It’s a far cry from Alfred Hitchcock’s infamous statement: “Actors are cattle.” Although Hitch would later amend this - “I never said actors were cattle; all I said was that actors should be treated as cattle” - it’s still a world away as a sentiment from Mike’s avowed interest in the actor as an involved artist, and his proud passion for the level of talent on offer in this country. “The thing is, you know, we are blessed with fantastic actors here in the UK. There are too many very good actors I’d like to work with for me to ever get around to working with all of them.”

Luckily for Sally Hawkins, Eddie Marsan and the rest of the cast, Mike did find the time to work with them, resulting in what has been described as Sally’s break-out role, and the latest in Eddie’s string of successful character roles, which have seen him work with everyone from Tom Cruise on Mission Impossible III to Terrence Malick on The New World.

In Happy-Go-Lucky, this collaborative journey of cast and crew has resulted in what the film’s director describes as “a bright, energetic, positive experience that, I hope, makes you feel like life is worth living. But within it are darknesses and sadnesses of various kinds, and in various places, which are there for Poppy to react to, deal with and care about. As such, hopefully it’s a complex film - for all that it has its comic and celebratory side.”

The ‘brightness’ of the film refers not only emotional timbre, but quite literally to its kaleidoscopic palette. With vibrant cobalt blues, tiger-lily oranges and screaming magenta leaping off the screen, Happy-Go-Lucky doesn’t look quite like the majority of Mike Leigh films, and it’s the first time he’s used widescreen. “That reflects the energy and explosiveness of the film, as does the colour,” he explains.

While Mike insists that his directorial attitude has remained consistent across the lifespan of his career, he’s happy to admit to having refined his work stylistically. “All artists, the more you do, the more you learn, you hone your skills, and in some ways you may move on. In principle I’m doing the same kind of thing. Apart from anything else, Nuts in May is delightful - but it’s a very crude piece of film-making, done very quickly. Happy-Go-Lucky is a highly-sophisticated, beautiful piece of film-making.”

He’s also stuck close to home for much of his career: true to form, you’ll see a lot of London in Happy-Go-Lucky, although Mike insists that it’s something of a red-herring to regard the city as integral to the action, as some reviews have. “London becomes an implicit character in the film, but it’s not a film about London as such. You could make the film anywhere. I’ve made lots of films in London, because it’s cheaper. We can’t really afford to go away from base.”

As our interview draws to a close, I wonder, broadly speaking, whether it’s possible to fit Happy-Go-Lucky into a narrative of current trends in British film, or British film, perhaps, as it should be? Mike’s reply suggests that for all his reputation for social critique, he wouldn’t want to be too didactic about things.

Happy-Go-Lucky is one film. There’s all kinds of stuff that’s going on. I’ve already implicitly expressed a view about films that are made for cynical reasons. But to be honest, I’m not really disposed to say, ‘Well this is how films should be, Poppy’s the sort of character we should see more of,’ or anything like that. This is this film. I think, and I suppose I hope, that it’s quite unique in its own way, with its own box of tricks.”

Love or hate Happy-Go-Lucky - and there will be plenty of people who find a character as determinedly positive as Poppy irritating - in an age in which we’re constantly being told we’re all heading to hell in a handbasket, it’s refreshing to encounter film-making that walks a path between straightforward escapism and miserablist hand-wringing.Mike views this through the prism that is his central character: “Poppy’s a teacher. She’s like many millions of people in the world who are getting on with it. Yes, we’re destroying the planet, we’re destroying each other - it’s bad news. But this is not a planet entirely populated by a lot of people sitting around committing suicide and wringing their hands. People are out there getting on with it, and not least the people who are teaching children. In that sense I wanted to make an anti-miserablist film.”

The type of character who just gets on with it, helps others and acts unselfishly has an interesting history in the Anglo-Hollywood films from which Mike aims to distance himself. Commonly, an impulse to save and protect individuals or people en masse culminates in self-sacrifice, whether of life or self-interest. It’s a narrative thread you can find in most genres, from cheesy big-budget action behemoths (think of Bruce Willis exploding himself to unintentionally hilarious effect in Armageddon to save the world, his friends and especially his hot daughter), to popularly acclaimed classics (see: Humphrey Bogart letting the woman he loves go in Casablanca).

In Happy-Go-Lucky, Poppy’s nurturing drive to protect and save people doesn’t demand a sacrifice of this type, placing the film outside of the conventional path followed by this type of character. This is partly a function of the genre - not too many north London primary teachers are called upon to sacrifice life or love for the good of humankind - but also of a desire to step outside convention. Or am I wrong? “No, I don’t think that’s wrong,” responds Mike. “I think the point is it’s not a simplistic film that you can easily sum up. I hope it works, if it works, because it’s real and therefore the characters are real and resonant and layered.”

Clearly Mike Leigh is a director who cares about the experience of watching his films, as well as making them. What is he aiming for in this respect with Happy-Go-Lucky? “You go on an emotional journey when you watch this film. People have said, ‘I watched this film and I felt good and positive,’ but some people have also said, ‘I actually felt I wanted to cry,’ so you go through a lot of things.”

“Lots of people have told me that they assumed because it was called Happy-Go-Lucky, and because everything seemed to be going so well, that something bad would happen. They’ve said, ‘I thought I was being manipulated.’” And here, the man who has just released his first avowedly anti-miserablist film, twinkles with a rare smile. “You’re not being manipulated. Not by me.”

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We have a date lined up with the enigmatic Holy Moly as part of our new radio series… and are looking for opinionated bloggers, tabloid journos with a thirst for gossip, or anyone with the style and attitude to get the conversation flowing with one of the media’s most elusive figures.

More info on the Head to Head page.

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Jazz pirates

Last year we ran a competition to design us a sting.

The winner is Conor Breen, a 3D animator with a day job in commercial effects, and a surreal sense of dark humour in his personal work. His original entry depicted a vinyl Klu Klux Klan toy wobbling across a kitchen workshop towards what appears to be a flaming cross - later revealed to be a neon 4Talent logo, shimmering in the light of the gas hob. Tails of its robes flashing red as if on fire, it trundles against a coffee cup and meekly tips over.

Working with 4Talent and 4Creative to develop a fresh idea, in line with our new marketing campaign - in the kingdom of the blind, the one-eyed man is king - he came up with this.

Enjoy.

Most of the 50 entrants hailed from the UK, but others from as far afield as Finland, Portugal and the US. It was a rich and broad range of experience levels and approaches, from hand-drawn animation to fully-rendered 3D; from students to small design agencies, freelance animators and individuals working within larger effects or animation companies.

A panel from 4Talent, 4Creative, MPC and 3D World and Computer Arts whittled a shortlist down to 5… the other four runners up comprised:

YIW Design: A glowing 4-shaped meteor crashes to earth and bursts into life as a vibrant illustrated tree, which then sprouts mini-TVs that smash into people’s living rooms

Dariusz Sebastian Burdon: Stamped with the 4Talent logo, the tube becomes a rollercoaster that rides around London’s landmarks

Rosa Maria Tell Velez: A young designer works on a project, and drops of dye fall from his hand to the paper. He examines his palm in surprise and creative ‘life lines’ burst forth, inking out the 4Talent logo

Richard DeDominici: A man walks down the street dressed as a ‘4′ made from cardboard boxes

Pretty eclectic, I’m sure you’ll agree.

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