Sam, a senior, is deftly skilled at the Russian Cossack dance.

We met Richard and Tom of ABSA (The Australian Boarding School Association) at a conference in 2017. Alesi, our producer and resident go-getter, had compiled a list of photos of attendees she wanted to introduce herself to, Richard was on it. I remember thinking he reminded me of an Australian Leslie Nielsen. A jovial and witty demeanour always ready to share a loud laugh with you. In the midst of the slow procession towards lunch, Alesi had spotted and introduced herself to him. She’s like a motivated cartoon character, apprehension simply doesn’t occupy her mind. Alesi’s pitch was simple - Australians have a good sense of humour, we like making funny videos, perhaps there’s a match? If there ever was an ‘in’ to Australian schools, she thought, it would be through ABSA. Alesi was right, as she typically is.

The distance wouldn’t be a problem. We’ve never done a project that didn’t involve at least one flight. The closest two projects are often within a couple hundred miles of one another, so what’s a flight across the Pacific?

Just like many of the encounters in a fateful Hollywood film, our introduction to ABSA would first propel us one way, before bringing us to the land down under.

We were presenting our portfolio at a booth at TABS in 2017. At that point we were a young company without much of a reputation, and very few heads were turning. Richard on the other hand was ‘keen’ to see what we did. A couple seconds into the first video we showed him and he was already bursting with explosive laughter. Good energy is magnetic, and in moments our booth was crowded with business cards traveling every which way. It was there where we met Western Reserve Academy, whom we would go on to produce a musical for the following summer.

Filming one of our key scenes at The Empire Theatre in Toowoomba.

A couple months after this musical, with the idea of introducing us to the Australian market, ABSA sends out an email about The Film Guys to their member schools. There were a few nibbles, but the prospect of bringing in a foreign team with no foothold in Australia and its culture was probably an automatic pass for most potential clients.

Among the few responses, though, was Bianca of Concordia Lutheran College. She had fallen completely in love with our musical and wanted one of her own. We had never heard of Concordia nor the town of Toowoomba in which it was situated, and we were really hoping for at least a couple of signed projects to justify our trip to Australia, but Concordia was the only one. In the end the adventure of it all pushed us through and we were flying to Brisbane in early March of 2020.

We understood that if we were to make something Australians would like, we would have to think like Australians. Through early conversations with the students and faculty, watching a few cult classic films and diving into some of Australia’s stand-up comedy legends, we ascertained that the Aussie sense of humour is made up of a few key components:

Not taking yourself too seriously
Making jokes at your own expense
Plenty of profanity (which was unlikely to be useful for a school marketing video)

Early during our visit Bianca was giving us a tour of the school. In an unremarkable passing-by moment, she lamented the idea that you can’t simply market the idea that you’re a good, happy school with kids who are just really nice. ‘Why not?’ We thought. There was something refreshingly forthright about Bianca’s approach to differentiators. We made a mental note.

A few days in and this reality was unmistakeable. The atmosphere is warm, honest and unpretentiously humble. A beautiful example of a school simply keeping its head low and doing what it ought to do best, being a school. This is all well and good but we’re in the business of making unique videos and we needed some kind of idea to latch onto. What message could we send out that would be representative of Concordia?

Our production script will always face edits on the day itself.

The seed of our idea was planted during our fourth day on campus. We had a group of kids in the room brainstorming with us, and we were probing for some thoughts on what the kids like about their own school. A group of Year 10 boys slid their way to the whiteboard and calmly scribbled down some of their thoughts.

“Clean”, “No bullying”, “Community is pretty good”, “Teachers are alright”. Pause. “We have REALLY great gardening staff!”. They erupted in agreement. Alesi and I looked at one another with the understanding of two professionals who’ve ‘been around the block’. We had our video’s opening. The following promptly made its way to our notebook:

“Town hall / looking for USP - gardeners are great! - burst into song - pivot about needing to look for what to be known for.”

This is the point in the creative process where people in my position innately understand that the project now writes itself. It’s a romantic way of expressing that the soul of the idea now exists firmly within the project, we just need to flesh it out. Of course, that’s easier said than done. An idea can be great, but the actual writing needs to keep the soul of the idea in tact, and if you take pride in your work the way we do, almost nothing is good enough for your precious idea.

For anyone who has had to write a catchy, memorable, funny and point-driven song in a period of one weekend on the heels of a global pandemic, you may see that there was still a challenge afoot.

On Location at Mr Smith’s (Director of Campus) house. He and his family graciously invited us for a campfire barbecue when we wrapped.

Songwriting, although enjoyable, is one of the most arduous processes in the long and diverse list of responsibilities we take on while running this business. It can’t just be a good song, it can’t just be musically sound, it has to be extremely catchy while making the point loud and clear. There is no room for one lazy line. Every single part of the film has to serve its ultimate thesis, which in this case was, ‘Concordia is a happy, friendly, honest and humble school that is confident enough to be able to make fun of itself’.

After a customary weekend of struggling with writing and an equally customary all-night writing sprint, I reached the expected “I hate it” point where everything had to be scrapped. As if scripted, Alesi recited her line, “You’re wrong, this is actually good, let’s stick to it”. She was right, it was actually pretty good. We’d found a dangerously catchy hook that, while being the most memorable musical moment of the song, also happened to be the name of the school. From a marketing perspective this is A+ territory.

At this point we were laying down on the ground of the outdoor basketball courts, for a change of scenery. Alesi, looking up at the sky let out, “Toowoomba’s best kept secret?” and the mental buzzer went off off. Two minutes later we had it: “Concordia-aaa-aa! We’re Queensland’s best kept secret not our choice but still an achievement!”. It was the perfect combination of memorability, self-deprecation and positivity.

Before the weekend started Bianca already warned us that there was chatter about schools closing the end of the following week due to the spectre of Covid-19 that cast everything into a shroud of uncertainty. The message was essentially, do what you were going to do in twelve days and do it in seven. Researching a school, writing a catchy song, recording it and filming it is a tough ask in twelve days, in seven it is near impossible.

First thing Monday morning, we met with the school’s decision-makers. I brought a guitar and was preparing to sing our song. I always have a pit in my stomach at this point in the process. The idea of getting to know a school and writing a song about it in less than a week, and then singing it to the people that live and breathe the place always leaves me with a good amount of self-doubt. I have since learned that this is apparently pretty normal for people in this line of work.

I sang the song and they loved it. Huge relief. We immediately got started preparing the production. No time to waste. Normally we would record the song first but the schedule didn’t have space for it, so we used a (poorly) recorded version in which I sing all the parts. Throughout the week we would invite all of our singers to our makeshift recording studio to record their parts.

We built Concordia’s recording studio in a vacant dormitory with a set of unused mattresses. It always looks a little funny when we do this, but what are we if not creative problem solvers? This leaves little room for that glossy professional veneer a lot of people in our line of work try to present. If it gets the job done well, we’re not too concerned about appearances. Plus the kids find it funny and that helps.

With no time to lose, the buzz about this production was mounting. Kids were presenting themselves to us hoping to have a part, emails were zipping around looking for the list of things we needed: a tent, a push cart, bottles of strawberry milk, a full-fledged theatre, musical instruments, aprons, and of course, kids who could sing.

Sunrise on the last shooting day at Concordia

The way our videos turn out is directly proportional to the energy the community gives us. Concordia gave us the all-in signal. Positive energy from the kids and faculty, widespread enthusiasm about the project and helpful hands from every which way. You get what you put in.

After a nine day whirlwind, the entire song was written, recorded and filmed. It was released a couple months later.

Concordia chose the moment kids where being allowed back to school, to release the musical. The idea was that the world could use some positive energy. This went against our recommendation though, we thought there would be little fruit to a call to action that is ‘pay us a visit’ when you can’t accept visitors. In this case, we were happily wrong.

The video exploded through the independent school circuit in Australia the way viral videos of the early YouTube days used to. When we make videos we try our best to not rely on digital marketing - that is the paid targeting by social networks to specific audiences - and instead focus our attention on organic reach, which is shrouded in buzz-word mystery at this point.

At its essence, organic reach is one person wanting to show another person something they’ve seen, multiplied. A video lands on your desk because three of your friends told you that you have to see it, you do, and you share it with more people.

The proof is in the pudding as they say. As of now, enquiries and applications are up 129% and 182% respectively as compared to the previous year. Note that the Australian school year runs with the calendar year so we’ve still got a few months to go.

Video is simply a medium. For most, it does little. For those who use it right, it will make all the difference.

We’re in the business of results. If you’re going to hire a film crew, you better hope to see return on your investment. Here are our results.