Editorial Opener
A recreated CNN Brasil news column opens the film — serif headline, column rules, date stamps and a subtle halftone grid. The type animates in as real editorial content would render on the page: measured, unhurried, layer by layer.
A Christmas manifesto for Reserva — a cultural response to the age of AI-generated everything. Edited and animated as a crescendo of editorial typography, cinematic footage and UI-native data reveals, ending on a single-word brand statement: Humanity.
In a season where every brand releases the same emotionally polished, algorithm-friendly Christmas film, Reserva needed a piece that stood apart by explicitly rejecting the language of the feed. The brief was to turn a manifesto against filtered perfection into two minutes of motion that still held attention — without the very tricks it was criticising.
The film is built as a typographic essay with cinematic interludes. Editorial headlines, kinetic type and scrolling UI establish the saturated media context; documentary-style footage and a warm, grainy look bring the human counterpoint. The grammar is intentionally honest: cuts happen on meaning, not on beats, and every graphic element is grounded in the footage rather than floating over it.
I designed a visual system around three layers — editorial (serif headlines + news-column grids), social (scrolling comments, animated counters, vertical proof) and cinematic (shallow-DOF portraits, red rim light, handwritten paper textures). Pacing alternates between long holds on faces and quick typographic bursts, so the final word — Humanity — lands on the longest, quietest beat of the piece.
A recreated CNN Brasil news column opens the film — serif headline, column rules, date stamps and a subtle halftone grid. The type animates in as real editorial content would render on the page: measured, unhurried, layer by layer.
A full-bleed black frame with the phrase "Emotionally outsourced." — the accent word carried in red, timed to a hard cut on the audio. Masked reveals and a one-frame blur give the type weight without decoration.
The cover of Mary Schmich's "Wear Sunscreen" — the source text the manifesto speaks to — is brought in as a still object over a bright, paper-white plate. A soft drop shadow and a scale-in from 98% keep the object tactile, not digital.
A close-up portrait holds the frame: red rim light on the right, deep shadow on the left, shallow depth of field. The grade is warm-red in the highlights and crushed in the blacks, matching the film's emotional register without competing with the type.
Camera operator, monitor and handwritten script are composed into a single frame so the manifesto text — "A manifesto against the illusory perfection of screens." — reads literally against the apparatus that produces those screens. Text animates on the breath of the VO.
Real Instagram comments about the film are reconstructed as a dark-mode UI and scrolled in-camera. Verified ticks, red hearts and handle colours match the platform exactly, so the reveal reads as native proof rather than a mock.
The film closes on a deep red field with a single serif wordmark — "Humanity" — and the Reserva bird in the accent red. A slow fade-in, a held beat, and a single character of drift to the right: the longest, quietest shot of the piece.