The In-Between is Where Budgets Go to Die of Boredom

The most influential video storytelling is polar.  It either feels self-made (thanks interns!) or like it could air on HBO.  One works because it feels real. The other works because it feels epic. 

The middle ground (polished-but-lifeless talking heads, safe pre-approved messaging that says nothing) is where budgets go to die of boredom. It’s strip mall storytelling that’s simultaneously too under- AND over-produced to feel honest and too safe to feel memorable. Technically open for business but not enticing enough to get you to pull into the parking lot. 

The vaguely inspiring music doing the emotional labor in the background is the first and somehow least concerning red flag in all of this.

It looks finished, but it does not land. It knows you superficially but doesn’t speak to you. It understands the assignment but underestimates the audience. 

The in-between wants credibility without patience and emotion without vulnerability. You can’t be simultaneously safe and unforgettable.

Its competence is what makes it scary. 

Its safety is what makes it appealing. 

How does this happen?

No one sets out to make a forgettable video. Nobody goes into pre-production saying “let’s drop the medium bucks on something that’s seductive because it feels responsible.”

The in-between happens through a slow breakdown of will: acquiescing to a bad note from above, internal politics, “can we tone this down?”, “can we add a few more messaging points?” or, worst of all, “this isn’t broad enough.”  Trying to appeal to everyone means moving no one. It dulls the edges and creates an emotional and creative vacuum.

The problem is not polish. 

Craft matters: a beautiful frame, intentional and dramatic lighting, elegant pacing, character development and edits that feel like they were made by people who actually have opinions and a thoracic aorta.

But polish without a point of view is just expensive wallpaper.

The fix is a stronger take, real stakes and a reason for the audience to care. If it doesn’t move, it doesn’t matter. That’s the job. 

The best work chooses a side. This is why the self-made stuff can win.  It may not be polished, but it has urgency. Someone had something to say. They said it quickly, directly and with the tools at hand…without waiting for the brand standards committee to bless the emotional arc. 

And this is why HBO-quality storytelling wins, too.  It has craft, yes. But more importantly, it has taste, tension, patience and faith in the audience. It knows how to build a world, follow a life, sit in the uncomfortable silence of an interview until something true comes out.  It feels earned. 

The best news is that the in-between is a choice you don’t have to make. Instead make something scrappy and alive or deeply considered and cinematic.  Make something weird, intimate, funny, urgent, restrained, beautiful, uncomfortable and/or true. Make something that has edges for people to hold on to. But you cannot make something afraid of itself and expect people to care. That’s strip mall storytelling.