
You can predict it before it starts. Aerial shot of the building. Music, sparse, slightly hopeful. Someone in a quarter-zip walking through an office with a laptop. A slow push-in on a person mid-sentence, cutting away before they finish. Hands on a keyboard, shallow depth of field. The word innovation at some point. A logo, held for three seconds, over silence.
It isn't bad work, exactly. It's competent. It's just that an enormous number of organisations have arrived at precisely the same film, and nobody appears to have chosen it.
That's the interesting part. This didn't happen because the industry is lazy. It happened because several reasonable forces pushed in the same direction at once, and the result is a house style that belongs to everyone and therefore to nobody.
Almost every corporate video project begins with references, examples of work the client admires, gathered to communicate taste. This is sensible. It's also quietly similar.
References tend to come from two places: competitors in the same sector, and whatever surfaces when you search for the category. Both sources are already merged. So the brief begins by pointing at the middle of the existing distribution, and the film is then made to sit comfortably among the things it was compared against.
Do this across an industry for a decade and you get a feedback loop. Each new film is calibrated against the average of the previous ones, which pulls the average tighter.
If your references are all drawn from your own sector, you've narrowed the possible outcome before a single creative decision has been made.
This is the big one, and it has nothing to do with creative ability.
Most corporate films pass through several stakeholders before sign-off. Each has a legitimate interest, and each has the ability to object. Crucially, the cost of objecting is low and the cost of approving something that later embarrasses the organisation is high.
That asymmetry has a predictable effect. Distinctive choices, an unusual structure, a provocative line, a long silence, humour, genuine candour about a difficulty, each carry a small risk of someone objecting. Conventional choices carry almost none. Run a piece of work through five people with veto power and the distinctive elements get filed off one by one, each removal individually defensible.
Nobody decides to make something generic. Generic is what remains after a process designed to eliminate risk has finished running.
Drone footage used to be expensive and therefore meaningful. Shallow depth of field used to signal a certain tier of equipment. Clean colour grading used to require a specialist.
All of that is now accessible to almost anyone. Which is genuinely good, the floor of what's achievable has risen considerably. But techniques that once differentiated now only signal that you had the equipment. An aerial shot communicates nothing about a company except that drones exist.
When everyone can execute the same visual vocabulary competently, execution stops being a differentiator and the burden shifts entirely to the idea. Most briefs haven't caught up with that shift.
A brief that says "we need a two-minute company overview video for the website" has specified a format and left the hard thinking undone. A brief that says "prospective clients don't believe we're as experienced as our competitors, and we need to change that before the first sales call" has specified a problem, and the range of possible solutions to that problem is much wider and much more interesting than "two-minute overview video".
Format-first briefs produce format-shaped answers. And since the format in question already has a conventional treatment, the conventional treatment is what arrives.
None of this is difficult to escape. It mostly requires deciding to.
It's tempting to treat distinctiveness as an aesthetic preference - nice if you can afford it, not strictly necessary. That gets the economics backwards.
The purpose of a corporate film is to leave an impression. A film that resembles every other film in its category cannot leave a distinct impression, because the thing it resembles is the category rather than the company. Money spent producing it is spent well and achieves little, which is the most expensive possible outcome, worse than spending nothing, because it feels like the problem has been addressed.
The risk in distinctive work is that some people won't like it. The risk in conventional work is that nobody remembers it. Only one of those risks has a cost that compounds.
Starting a project and want it to look like you rather than like the category?That conversation is most useful early, while the brief is still open. Get in touch.
Safer against the risk of someone objecting, yes. Not safer against the risk of being forgotten, which is the more common and more expensive failure. A film that achieves nothing has consumed its entire budget without return.
Describe the problem precisely and leave the solution open. Being specific about what you need to change in someone's mind gives a creative team far more useful direction than specifying format, length or visual style, and leaves room for an answer you hadn't thought of.
It can, but only if the process is designed for it. The practical fix is separating consultation from decision - many people can give input, a small number hold sign-off.
No. Distinctiveness comes from the idea and the decisions, not from production value. A simply executed film built on a genuinely different thought will stand out more than an expensively produced one that follows the category template.