No Maybe Yes: ‘If I Don’t Believe in My Take, No One Will’

No Maybe Yes is the name on the door, but behind it, you’ll find Max Pauwels, a Belgian director with a sharp eye, a steady hand, and a knack for spinning stories that pack a punch. His work doesn’t just tell a tale; it grabs you by the collar, gives you a wink, and leaves you grinning when you least expect it. With equal parts heart and swagger, he’s got the technical chops to make it all sing, but he’s not afraid to lighten the mood. Because the best stories don’t just hit hard, they know when to smirk, when to breathe and when to crack a joke. With Max at the helm of No Maybe Yes, every project gets a dose of precision, passion and just enough mischief to keep things interesting.

Having recently signed with SOFTSPOT* for representation in the US, No Maybe Yes tells LBB all about being "drawn to work that sticks” and how he is ready to continue “finding the clever angle that makes a joke land smart, not loud.”

LBB> What are some upcoming projects that you’re excited about? Tell us a bit about them!

No Maybe Yes> It’s not about one shiny project right now, it’s about a whole line-up that’s got me buzzing. Teaming up with fresh production companies like SOFTSPOT* has been a real shot of adrenaline. From the first call, you know when it clicks, when you’re sitting across someone thinking, “yeah, these are my people”. Doesn’t happen often, but when it does, you feel it in your gut. I’m looking forward to building things with them that have heart, passion, and just the right dose of swagger and mischief.

On top of that, I’m digging into a personal project, a short I’m writing. And this one feels less like a want and more like a need. It’s an opportunity to really let my own voice come through, without being steered by someone else’s brief or agenda. That’s why most of us jumped into this industry in the first place: a love for stories that reach people on a deeper level. That’s the fire I want to keep alive.

LBB> What excites you in the advertising industry right now, as a director? Any trends or changes that open new opportunities?

No Maybe Yes> AI came storming in like a bull in a China shop, and for a moment everyone looked rattled. Fair enough. But the dust it’s kicking up is actually clearing a lane for proper filmmaking again. The kind built on raw, relatable emotions and stories that cut through the noise. You can feel a hunger in the industry to make work that’s more human, more meaningful. That’s the bit that gets my blood going. Because real creativity, the kind that only comes from people, can’t be faked or replaced.

And that’s the real joy: working with people who give a damn. Take SOFTSPOT*, for example, look at how they handled my announcement on their roster. They didn’t just post a line and call it a day. They spun it into something original, something that showed care, craft, and love for the game. That’s rare. That’s what excites me: collaborating with people who push, who care, who see opportunity where others see admin. And the good news? I feel like that attitude is spreading. More and more people actually care again.

LBB> What elements of a script sets one apart from the other and what sort of scripts get you excited to shoot them?

No Maybe Yes> What hooks me is a script with a spine. A strong central idea and a clear identity. Give me that and as a director I can paint the world around it. Too often it goes the other way: someone latches onto a flashy technique or the trend of the month, and then scrambles to hang a story on it. I get the appeal, but it leaves me cold.
I’m drawn to scripts that actually say something. Stories that make you feel, even if it’s just in a tight 30-second window. High production clickbait or TikTok razzle-dazzle might grab a glance, but they rarely leave a mark. I’m chasing the ones with weight, with meaning. The kind of scripts that don’t just ride a trend, but could stand tall in any era. That’s what gets me itching to shoot.

LBB> How do you approach creating a treatment for a spot?

No Maybe Yes> These days I trust my gut – it took me a while to get there. When I first started out, I’d catch myself thinking, “Alright, how do I shape this so the agency buys in?” Now it’s flipped. My approach is: “Here’s how I see it, and here’s why you’re gonna want to see it that way too.” It’s about conviction. If I don’t believe in my take, no one will.

LBB> If the script is for a brand that you're not familiar with, don’t have a big affinity with or is in a market you’re new to, how important is it for you to do research and understand that strategic and contextual side of the ad? If it’s important to you, how do you do it?

No Maybe Yes> Yeah, it matters to know who you’re writing for. I’ll always dig in, strip it down, and figure out what’s truly important to the brand. That DNA needs to ride with me while I’m shaping my take. But here’s the thing: I don’t let it steer the wheel. At the end of the day, it’s not about ticking boxes on a strategy doc, it’s about the story.
The job is to be smart with the script, to find the angle that actually lands with people. Strategy gives you the compass, but storytelling is the engine. If it doesn’t resonate, if it doesn’t spark something in the viewer, then all the research in the world won’t save it. So I use the brand context as fuel, but the focus is always on crafting work that connects, that moves, that makes someone feel something.

LBB> For you, what is the most important working relationship for a director to have with another person in making an ad? And why?

No Maybe Yes> The obvious answer would be “my producer,” but the truth is, it’s everyone. My job isn’t just to win over the client and agency, it’s to lay down a blueprint the whole cast and crew can rally behind. Once the job’s yours, you’ve got to make sure everyone knows the vision and feels part of it. Because if even one link in the chain isn’t pulling the same way, the whole thing wobbles.

Directing’s not a one-man show, it’s about getting a room full of talented people to believe in the same picture. When that clicks, when everyone’s pulling on the same rope, that’s when the magic shows up on screen.

LBB> What type of work are you most passionate about? Is there a particular genre or subject matter or style you are most drawn to?

No Maybe Yes> I’m drawn to work that sticks. Projects that leave a smile, a chuckle, or just a beat of thought with the viewer. On paper that probably puts me in the comedy camp. But I don’t see myself as your cookie-cutter comedy director. The one chasing big slapstick emotions, zany quirks, or cartoonish camera moves. That’s not my game.

What excites me is keeping it grounded, finding the clever angle that makes a joke land smart, not loud. Reality is always funnier than fiction if you know where to look. The challenge, of course, is that a lot of people are conditioned to expect comedy to look and sound a certain way. Bigger, broader, louder. But I’d rather carve my own lane than follow the map. It’s about trusting your gut, finding humour in the truth, and letting that do the heavy lifting.

LBB> What’s the craziest problem you’ve come across in the course of a production – and how did you solve it?

No Maybe Yes> I wish I had a mad war story for you, but the truth is I don’t. I’ve heard plenty of those cowboy tales over the years, and it always bugged me a little that I didn’t have one to throw into the mix. The wildest thing that’s happened was my 1st AC oversleeping for four hours… while he had the camera. More of an irritation than a disaster.

The way I see it, every set comes with its bumps. You just learn to stay calm and help steer the ship. I’d love to think I’ve got full control on set, but the reality is you can’t control everything. And when you can’t, there’s no sense in losing your head over it. Problems pop up, you deal with them, and you keep the machine moving. That’s the game.

LBB> How do you strike the balance between being open/collaborative with the agency and brand client while also protecting the idea?

No Maybe Yes> It’s always a balancing act, no way around it. But I’m a big believer in collaboration, especially with the agency. At the end of the day I’m not the only creative on the job, and filmmaking isn’t a solo sport. Ideas get stronger when they’re tested. My philosophy is simple: the best idea survives.

I don’t carry an ego so big it blocks out other people’s input. For me, it’s about knowing when to push and when to hold back, and that’s something you learn with experience. Ultimately, everyone in the room wants the same thing: to make the best possible film. So I keep an open mind, an open ear and an open heart. Because that’s how you protect the idea; by letting it evolve into its strongest version, not by locking it in a box.

LBB> What are your thoughts on opening up the production world to a more diverse pool of talent?

No Maybe Yes> For me, talent has no label. I don’t believe in putting people into neat little boxes. Talent comes from everywhere, and the industry is stronger when it reflects that. Diversity isn’t just about ethnicity or origin, it’s also about experience. Some of the best directors I know started as art directors, production designers, graphic designers, copywriters, even strategists. They all bring a different lens, a different rhythm, a different way of telling a story.

That’s the beauty of opening the door wider. The more perspectives you bring in, the more original the work becomes. Advertising has been guilty, at times, of recycling the same voices and the same ideas. A more diverse pool of talent shakes that up. It keeps us sharp, it keeps us honest, and it pushes the work into places it wouldn’t go otherwise. That’s what this business should be about: finding the best idea, no matter where it comes from.

LBB> Are you open to mentoring and apprenticeships on set?

Truth is, mentorship should’ve been baked into this industry years ago. When I was starting out, my first gigs were blocking streets, hauling gear, and making coffee. I didn’t mind it, I was just happy to be on set. But what I really wanted was a seat by the director, to watch how the job’s done for real. That’s where the gold is. You don’t learn this game from books, you learn it by being in the trenches, listening, and keeping your eyes open.

The way I see it, apprenticeships are how you grow new talent and keep the director’s pool alive. Right now, the industry’s running light on fresh blood. And I get why. Agencies want the sure thing. They’d rather back a proven name than take a swing on someone raw.

But that’s the problem. No one gets a shot, so no one breaks through. Apprenticeships could change that. They let the next generation pick up the tricks quicker, toughen up to the pressure, and still keep the fire burning without getting flattened by the grind.

If we want this industry to keep moving forward, we’ve got to open the door and let the new kids in. Otherwise, we’re just recycling the same old voices. And where’s the fun in that?

LBB> Your work is now presented in so many different formats - to what extent do you keep each in mind while you're working (and, equally, to what degree is it possible to do so)?

No Maybe Yes> I’d be lying if I said I love it, but it’s part of the game now. You can’t ignore formats, and you can’t just throw it over the fence for someone else to fix in post. So I’ve learned to work with it. I usually shoot in open gate, which basically means I’m using the full sensor of the camera. That way, in post we’ve got more room to crop, reframe, and deliver all the different versions that clients need.

That said, I only give it as much attention as it deserves. I’ll make sure the bases are covered, but I’ll never let aspect ratios dictate the creative. Storytelling always comes first. A shot has to serve the emotion, the rhythm, the story, not the format. If the work connects, no one’s counting the pixels on the edges.

LBB> What’s your relationship with new technology and, if at all, how do you incorporate future-facing tech into your work (e.g. virtual production, interactive storytelling, AI/data-driven visuals etc)?

No Maybe Yes> I’m a bit of a nerd when it comes to tech, I’m always watching what’s coming down the pipeline. As an artist you have to, because new tools open up new ways to tell stories and reach people – I welcome that. But I’ll never use tech just because it’s shiny or new. It’s got to serve the story or add real value to the project, otherwise it’s just noise.

AI is the perfect example. It’s shaken people up, and I get why. But fighting it is pointless. Change is inevitable. Better to embrace it, learn how to use it, and figure out how to navigate it in a way that strengthens the work rather than dilutes it. That’s how I see future-facing tech: not as a gimmick, but as another weapon in the arsenal when the story calls for it.

LBB> Which pieces of your work do you feel show what you do best – and why?

Securex 

This one was a lot of fun. The brief started out quite corporate, maybe even a bit dated, but everyone was open to pushing it further. We reshaped it into something more human and relatable, added characters you’d remember, and sprinkled in just enough comedy to make it stick.

SPF

This film was part of a larger series, and it really shaped how I approach my work. I learned to keep things simple and straightforward, using only the shots that serve the story and elevate the performance. Nothing wasted, everything with purpose.

WikiFin

This one sums up how I see things. The budget was tiny, but the idea was solid and fun. We kept it straightforward, used a stop-motion technique that actually served the story, and finished it with a dash of grounded comedy to make it stick. For me, it’s never about the biggest budget, it’s always about the best idea.

Kayak 

This Kayak spot is exactly the kind of script that draws me in. A campaign with a strong spine and a clear identity. One idea, simple and powerful, without trying to cram in a dozen messages. The foundation was solid – I just had to bring it to life and colour it in.