Sports and Horror Mash Ups: The Distinctive Style of Louis Norton Selzer

Rattling Stick has always been a home for directors who define, disrupt and push commercial filmmaking forward. Now, as the company enters its next chapter, a new generation of voices is emerging across Rattling Stick and Rattling Stuff, bringing fresh perspective and signature, distinctive filmmaking to the roster.

The ethos remains the same: talent and ideas first, a highly collaborative spirit, and a healthy sense of fun.

Louis Norton Selzer is part of that new wave: a writer-director with a darkly comic voice, a taste for the absurd and a gift for building heightened, cinematic worlds. Few British writer-directors are blending cinematic storytelling and offbeat comedy quite like Louis Norton Selzer.

Raised in north-west London, his work runs on a dark sense of humour, an eye for the absurd and a real talent for building heightened worlds that feel visually distinctive. Whether he's dreaming up surreal characters or nudging an everyday situation somewhere unexpected, his films have a voice you don't forget in a hurry.

His award-winning shorts have screened at BAFTA, and Academy Award-qualifying festivals around the world, including a Best Comedy win at the BBC’s Made You Laugh Festival. A BFI network–funded, BAFTA Connect filmmaker. Louis is one of the most exciting emerging directors of the moment.

Not one to let the grass grow under his feet, alongside his commercial work, Louis is developing his debut feature, ‘Billy The G.O.A.T’. He recently presented the script at the Cannes Film Festival as part of its financing journey, and it's already attracting interest from partners keen to help bring it to life.

Louis sat down with LBB to discuss his upcoming debut feature ‘Billy The G.O.A.T’, collaborative relationships with creatives, and his love for dark comedy.

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

Louis> Got back from Cannes recently where I was doing meetings for my debut feature ‘Billy The G.O.A.T’ – a darkly comic tragedy/body horror mash-up about modern masculinity and the cost of being seen.

It’s very much an ‘online’ film and we’re planning a meta, socially integrated campaign that blurs the line between what’s real and not. I had a very exciting conversation with a bold, disruptive agency recently who love the idea and are keen to be involved. We’re planning a short in the same universe later this year.

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

Louis> The growing appetite for smart, surrealist comedy and genre-blending is very exciting to me. The Anthropic ’Time and Place’ Superbowl campaign with Mother, for example – I love that ballsy, gloves-off, street-fight attitude they're taking with their competitor. Very 90s.

The sports/horror mash-up in Wieden+Kennedy's Kyller Instinct campaign and the ’Obsession’ spot for Usyk x Fury 2 by Big Time Creative Shop were magnificent too.

It’s something I’m increasingly drawn to in my own work. My Sports Direct film mashed comedy and sport together, while a recent Tradeify spot with two-time UFC champion Israel Adesanya basically turned a financial-services ad into a horror film. Because ads don’t have to look or behave like ads anymore. Brands are content creators whether they like it or not, so we should make things people might actually choose to watch.

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

Louis> Concept and wit. Ideally together.

Pablo’s Wilkinson Sword x Blade Masters spots were a great example of what I mean – using brilliantly absurd inversions of professions to make their point.

TBWA’s ‘Uncomfortably Soft’ spot with Skittles was also a standout – an outrageous execution of concept with unapologetic creepiness.

These are the sorts of scripts that get me giddy (and a little jealous).

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

Louis> I always start by trying to understand the idea behind the idea. What's the client really trying to say? What’s the message? What’s the feeling?

Once I understand that, my job is finding the most interesting way to express it. Sometimes it's a key shot. Sometimes it's a different perspective. Sometimes it’s dragging something already hiding inside the idea into the light.

Take my Network Rail campaign. The agency wanted to open on a terrified face. Great image – except chronologically it belonged at the end of the sequence, just before the train arrived. If we'd started there, we'd have nowhere to go.

So rather than change it, we made that the first shot and then rewound to the beginning, playing the events back in slow motion. Suddenly the face wasn’t just an image, it was a mystery. You knew something terrible was coming; you just didn't know what. It gave the films a sense of fragility and inevitability and made you want to stay around till the end.

The ingredients were already inside the idea. They just needed rearranging.

LBB> If the script is for a brand that you're not familiar with/ don’t have a big affinity with or 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?

Louis> It’s crucial but I don’t go full Spotlight.

I need to understand the brand and its culture. I’ll look at what they’ve made before, how they talk, who the customer is and what they’re comfortable with. Especially what they’re nearly comfortable with. That’s where things get spicy. How far can we push this while still making something that’s on brand?

I actually like the limitations. It turns the job into a little puzzle each time. It’s the open brief I dread. Give me some fences to push against.

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

Louis> The creatives.

They came up with the idea. They’ve spent months developing it, testing it, selling it and defending it. In a lot of ways, it’s their baby.

The director then turns up like some strange new co-parent with opinions. You have to be a little sensitive about that. I mean you’re not Francis Ford Coppola. This isn’t ‘Apocalypse Now’. Although occasionally a PPM can feel like it.

My job is to understand what is great about the idea and push it. Past the obvious answer. Towards the wilder, funnier, riskier or slightly more dangerous version.

But you can only do that if there’s trust. I want creatives who will challenge me and who are happy for me to challenge them back. So yeah, always push the creative with the creatives.

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?

Louis> Comedy. It just feels natural to me.

Particularly deadpan, absurdism and dark comedy. I love work that makes you laugh while also making you feel slightly uncomfortable about why you're laughing.

I like putting my characters in horrible situations. Not sure why. Hopefully I’m not a sadist.

I’m also drawn to things that don’t fit neatly into one genre. Comedy and horror. Drama and satire. Sport and horror. Strange combinations that shouldn’t quite work but somehow do.

LBB> What misconception about you or your work do you most often encounter and why is it wrong?

Louis> That my comedy is dark-dark. I think it's light-dark.

LBB> Have you ever worked with a cost consultant and if so how have your experiences been?

Louis> In advertising, I've been fortunate enough to work with excellent producers who largely protect me from the horrors of a v21 multi-tabbed spreadsheet (thanks Rattlers!).

On a level though, I came up making overly ambitious films for very little money, so figuring out how to make something look more expensive than it is has become a bit of an unhealthy obsession for me.

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

Louis> Probably Tradeify in New Zealand.

We had Israel Adesanya for a strict four-hour window before he had to catch a plane. In that time we needed more than 20 setups, including green screen and VFX plates, and we had to shoot in a real working gym overnight because it was the only time there weren’t classes. The AD thought we were insane. My DOP Scott Jones and I had done worse.

We approached it like a music video – creating multiple worlds inside one location and shooting handheld wherever we could. Scott designed the lighting so we effectively had three sets pre-lit inside the gym, meaning we could bounce between them without stopping.

When the crew arrived, the final class was still going. Sparks were rigging lights while people were smashing pads metres away. Magliners full of cameras were coming in as fighters were walking out. The art department was turning an entire white octagon black while we’d already started filming somewhere else. It was mental. But organised mental. Nobody thought we'd get through it. We did. We’d landed in New Zealand less than 24 hours earlier, horribly jet-lagged, having never met any of the crew before. Then a day later we were gone.

I wouldn't recommend it as a sustainable production model. But it was fun. In hindsight.

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

Louis> I’m not sure ‘protecting’ is quite how I’d describe it. At its best, collaboration is about everyone trying to find the strongest version of the idea. Which means pushing it, testing it and occasionally trying to break it. It’s very easy to get defensive when somebody challenges something you love.

But good questions expose weak thinking. Maybe you haven't communicated the idea clearly enough. Or maybe they're wrong. That happens too. If I think something genuinely matters, I’ll fight for it. Respectfully but firmly. My job isn’t to roll over, but it isn't to bulldoze everyone until I get my way. The best jobs are the ones where everyone feels some ownership of what ends up on screen. And preferably nobody cries.

LBB> What are your thoughts on opening up the production world to a more diverse pool of talent? Are you open to mentoring and apprenticeships on set?

Louis> Creativity comes from difference.

If everyone in a room has the same background, references and life experience, you're inevitably going to keep arriving at the same answers.

I've always felt slightly between worlds myself – growing up between different cultures, communities and identities – so I've probably always been drawn to outsiders. People looking in rather than fitting neatly into one group.

That perspective is valuable. You notice different things. But I also think, deep down, most people feel like outsiders. So when you tell stories about people who don't quite fit in, you're actually tapping into something pretty universal.

And yes, I try to make time for people earlier in their careers. This industry can feel incredibly opaque when you're starting out, particularly if you come in as a freelancer rather than through an established agency route.

I wish I'd had more guidance myself, so I try to give it where I can. Plus, that karma shit is real.

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)?

Louis> On social, people are all psychotically impatient. But that’s where everyone is. So the first few seconds matter enormously. You need a reason not to swipe.

From a practical point of view, shooting with 9:16 markers is just normal now. You frame a bit wider or sometimes shoot an alt. But I like wide frames, so it doesn’t really bother me.

Not unless it ruins my beautifully composed, rule-of-thirds, 16:9 frame. Then I’ll grumble about it privately and usually find a better one.

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)?

Louis> I'm excited about AI as a tool. I'm much less interested in it as a replacement for people. I use LLMs as brainstorming partners, research assistants and copy editors. Occasionally I’ll use generative tools to visualise an idea or solve a practical post problem.

What I don't want to outsource is taste or tone. AI can have the admin. I’m keeping those.

Strangely, I’m quite optimistic about what happens creatively. Scarcity creates value. If anyone can generate almost anything, then having an actual point of view becomes more valuable, not less. I also think audiences are going to crave things that feel real. Real locations. Real faces. Real imperfections. Things you can actually touch.

LBB> Advertising is already storytelling in service of a product. If you make the image synthetic, the music and sound synthetic and the people synthetic, then there’s nothing real left to connect to. Then what are we even doing?

Louis> Use the technology. Absolutely. But use it to help us get closer to something real, not further into digital oblivion.

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

Louis> Sports Direct: Probably the clearest example of my screwball visual-comedy side. It combines spectacle and energy with lots of tiny character moments that hopefully reward repeat viewing.

I also don't think anyone had previously filmed a schoolboy nutmegging a headmaster, sliding through his legs and splitting the man's trousers.

An important contribution to cinema.

Tradeify: It’s a financial services ad, obviously. So naturally we flew to New Zealand and made a dark, atmospheric horror film instead. It’s a good example of a client getting behind a wild idea, and of the kind of genre mashing I love.

Network Rail: Decidedly unfunny. But I think it’s a good example of taking a social-first safety brief – traditionally not the sexiest genre in filmmaking – and treating it with genuine cinematic tension and craft.

‘Matter of Choice’: This was the first film where I consciously leaned hard into drama and more complicated tonal territory. Comedy, drama, suspense, horror – it had a bit of everything.

Working closely with brilliant actors Will Merrick and Lydia Wilson taught me a lot about writing performances that felt emotionally truthful.

It's an imperfect film. But it was an important one for me.