The Position

If you’re an agency Creative Director, we have a story that will probably sound all too familiar.

 

In 1978, Richard Donner created Superman I with real clarity of vision. His was a film of inspiration and heart—crafted with care, conviction, and a belief that sincerity, not just spectacle, is what people remember. The result is a classic: Superman I remains timeless because Donner insisted it stand for something bigger than the sum of its parts.

 

But then… came Superman II.

 

In Donner’s case, he was 75% done filming Superman II, when the Producers (the Salkind’s) forced him aside – replacing Donner with Richard Lester. And that’s when Superman’s story started to lose its soul. Lester decided to reshoot portions of Superman II to get full director's credit. But he also began sacrificing Donner vision to appease efficiency, broad gags, and the spreadsheet. While traces of the original vision remained, the soul was fading — the heartfelt moments forced to coexist with expedient decisions – and the result was a movie quickly forgotten.

 

By Superman III, Lester was fully in charge, and the magic was gone.

We’re seeing this movie again in modern marketing
 

As a creative director in today’s world, you know how this story goes: You get an exciting new account. You lead with vision, pour yourself into the work, and rally your team around a big, honest idea. You’re not just selling a product or service—you’re trying to make people believe in a brand’s story. For a time, the results are magical! The brand transcends product, the client is thrilled, and you feel the rare pride that comes from knowing you made something meaningful.

 

But then… your firm’s executives or partners look at the early wins and decide the “essence” of the brand story is done and captured. The thinking goes: we nailed the creative concept, now it’s time to bring in someone else to take over the story and do the work faster and cheaper. In the agency world, it’s often another creative lead or director — someone already in the room — willing to be more accommodating to client or partner demands.

 

The shift is subtle but seismic. The vision you built is inherited by someone who’s technically “part of the team,” but whose priorities are different. Suddenly, here’s what happens:

• Shortcuts become acceptable

• Authenticity takes a backseat to automation

• Metrics outweigh meaning

• Care is replaced by calculation

And before you can blink, the bold campaign you created and championed starts to look like every other piece of market-friendly, risk-averse work. You, like Donner, have watched your  Superman I devolve into Superman II and III.

At Wheelhouse, we believe in being men (and women) of brand steel 
 

You don’t have to look far in the agency world to find the Superman-type story in action: a founding creative vision, replaced by expediency the minute someone decides “We have enough.” A familiar colleague steps in — not because they share your belief, but because they’ll follow the new marching orders.

 

The lesson, then, is this: Unless you steel yourself and fight for the brand you built, the world won’t remember the campaigns where you cut corners. People only remember the work that makes them feel something. 

 

As a creative director, you know that “good enough” is the enemy of legacy. That the work you built with care may not always survive the process, but the ones that do (because you fought for it) will stand the test of time. 

 

So, if you’ve been sidelined in your own agency — if your Salkinds want to swap you for a more agreeable Lester, don’t lose heart and don’t waver. Your commitment, your insistence on meaning, your refusal to water stories down will be what audiences (and clients) will remember, years from now. 

 

Because the story with heart outlives the shortcut every single time. In the end, every brand’s real superpower isn’t speed — it’s soul. And your job is to protect it.