Ben Perry: A Few Of My Favourite Things
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The MADRE director shares the sketches, soundtracks and significant others that keep his creativity alive.
With a passion for finding the "intimate within the epic", Madre director Ben Perry can often be found telling stories from Himalayan peaks to inner-city estates.
Perry grew up in Stoke-on-Trent, started out as a storyboard artist, and moved through editing before stepping behind the camera. Now based between London and LA, he’s shot global campaigns for brands like BMW, De Beers and Star Alliance, as well as photography work exhibited in New York, LA and London.
Here he shares the treasures, both familial and filmic, that shape his creative process.
The Sketches
Before directing, I was a storyboard artist.
Not the most traditional route, but it was mine - and I owe a lot of it to my dad.
He wasn’t in the industry. He was a teacher, so he never made a living from his creativity, but he sketched constantly.
After he passed away, I found a heap of his notepads amongst all the debris of his life.
They’re packed full of sketches, plans, and slightly chaotic notes.
They remind me why I do this and who I come from.
And on days when I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing, they remind me that doing it is the whole point.
The Books
Yeah, obvious. But once I started procrastinating with books instead of endless ad-heavy “creative inspiration” sites, things actually started to shift.
Sometimes it’s narrative theory - McKee, Yorke, the usual brainy suspects - and sometimes it’s photo books.
Alex Webb and Constantine Manos inspired a whole campaign I shot for Aruba Tourism.
When the internet starts to feel like a never-ending buffet of the same three dishes, I go back to the bookshelf.
If I cared enough to buy it, it’s probably worth returning to.
The Wife
She’s got a sixth sense for calling me out.
Creatively. Logistically. Emotionally.
I’ll think I’ve cracked something, and she’ll say something like, “Yeah, but it’s kind of boring, no?” It hurts.
And she’s always right.
She’s not in the industry, which is, honestly, her superpower.
She sees straight through the fluff and gets to the heart of it.
Smartest person I know.
Also the most brutally honest.
An essential combo when you’re trying to figure out if your idea is brilliant... or just self-indulgent nonsense.
The Soundtrack
My grandma was the one who got me into film.
She showed me Full Metal Jacket when I was way too young to fully understand it, but I felt it.
Years later, I found the soundtrack in a charity shop, and I love listening to it while I work.
The scoring is just so stunning in that film, and I think slightly overlooked - it oozes atmosphere.
That record kind of started my film score collection, too.
Music is like emotional time travel - it gets me into the headspace of the project faster than any deck or mood board.
The Cameras
I’ve got a collection - some inherited, some found, some “I definitely need this for the project” purchases.
My grandfather’s camera even travelled the world with him, and I got to do the same with it.
I use Artemis and all the digital planning tools, but I still carry a real camera on recces.
Shooting helps me figure out where my eye naturally goes, without overthinking it.
Sometimes I shoot 35mm, sometimes medium format, sometimes digital - it just depends.
I trained on film, so I get the love for it, but I also find the whole “film or die” gospel a bit much.
A tool’s a tool.
The important bit is picking the one that actually works - for you, for the project, and for the realities of that particular shoot.
But holding a camera - any camera - does change how I see things. It snaps me out of planning mode and into observing mode.
The Endless Lists
I have dyslexia, and since I was a kid, lists have helped me untangle the spaghetti mess that is my brain.
Every project spawns at least 200 lists - shot lists, to-dos, props lists (which art directors pretend to ignore but then secretly use), and the infamous “Do & Don’t List”.
That one’s 15 years old and contains every mistake I’ve made and everything I swore I’d do better next time.
It’s not gentle, but it’s honest.
I usually reserve reading it for long-haul flights, when I have no escape.
The Chief
Chief is my dog, and, honestly, my most consistent creative collaborator.
I’ll be spiralling into a hole of “Is this idea even good?” and he’ll barge in for walk time.
We go. I clear my head.
The idea usually works itself out.
I’m not sure if it’s telepathy or the change of scenery, but walks with him are inspiring.
He’s a furry little muse.
The Boy
Indy is my son.
His presence in my office is definitely more of a distraction than a help.
But, on a really, really tough shoot, I often think of his squidgy little face, and it gets me through.
Because, no matter what... he thinks I’m cool.
