on the Spot is a space for commercial production industry folk to ruminate, pontificate and just plain talk about job-related subjects.

The other day I was speaking with Martin Granger, a young director at Avion Films whose work really impressed me. As we talked it became more and more apparent to me that there are some things that a director who comes from outside the ad business might not get about how agencies work.

I offered to respond to anything he wanted to know about how agencies deal with directors (but was afraid to ask).

Q: At a first pitch session, how much input do you want from the director?

Case in point. I walk into a pitch, the boards are presented by the creatives. I say, ‘These are great but what if it was actually a dog driving the car instead of the Queen?’ The creatives look at me as if to say, ‘Do you think you’re funnier and more creative than us?’ They get in a huff, I don’t get the job.

Conversely, I go into the same meeting, look at the boards, agree with everything they present. We shake hands. I leave. They all agree that I brought nothing to the table. I don’t get the job.

Is this an actual no-win situation?

A: It’s not that I’m worried that you’re funnier or more creative than me. It’s just that a lot of people at my agency spent several weeks writing a brief and a strategy that, once it was agreed to by my client, was given to me and my partner, who in turn spent a few weeks (with a number of late nights) coming up with this script and convincing our colleagues at the agency and finally our client that this idea should go into research. And when it came out intact, we ‘high-fived’ each other because we couldn’t believe that we’d actually sold a spot that has the Queen, yeah, what a great ideaŠthe Queen driving a car.

So imagine my surprise when you told me that you thought you had a better idea.

It’s not ego. I actually have a pretty thick skin. I have to. Every day my ideas are criticized by my partner, my creative director, my colleagues in account service and my clients. It’s just that I didn’t expect it from you.

I know you didn’t mean it as criticism, but all the same, when someone comes in and tells me after 15 minutes that the idea I’ve invested weeks in would be better if I completely changed it, I can get a little ‘huffy.’

My answer to the converse of your question is simple.

I want to hear from you. I expect it. I like the exchange of ideas (I do it every day with my partner), and I’m willing to incorporate anything that will make the spot better. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll be disappointed. But (and it’s a big one) don’t change my idea. Add to it. Embellish it. Make it funnier. Sound enthusiastic. Sound like you want to be a collaborator.

The truth is, at this stage of your career I don’t know you well enough or trust you enough to listen to you talk in absolutes.

If I were you I might have said, ‘Hey, I love the idea of the Queen driving the carŠthat’s hilarious. You know what I’d do? I would put one of those dogs, what are they called? CorgiesŠyeah, in the front seat with her. She’s driving and talking to the dog. Yeah, in fact, at one point we cut back and the dog’s driving. I don’t know, that might be funny? What do you think? What? Have the dog drive? Get rid of the Queen altogether and just have the dog drive. Hey, that’s a great idea!

At this stage of your advertising directing career you don’t have the credibility to tell me that a dog driving a car is funnier than the Queen. But the Queen’s dog drivingŠnow that might be really funny.

Now the day after you win the Gold Bessie, or Marketing Award, or even better the One Show or Gold Lion at Cannes, your credibility quotient will change immediately. Chances are then you’ll have your pick of scripts from all over North America. You’ll be so rich and famous that you’ll move to l.a. and never have to ask for my advice ever again.

But while I’m giving advice, here’s some for all you l.a. shooters who’ve already made it and occasionally come here to shoot and discover we do things differently in Canada. Do me a favor.

Don’t pout, don’t roll your eyes, don’t take phone calls about your other jobs when you are with me. Don’t patronize me by calling my friends in account service ‘suits.’ Don’t demean my clients because they have chosen to respectfully disagree with some aspect of your vision. But most importantly, please don’t complain about your Mercedes’ leather upholstery in front of the client that we had to plead with to go over budget to do this job with you.

So, Martin, I hope that answers your question (and more). I know you’ll have great success. Anyone who’s as fun and enthusiastic to work with as you deserves it.

So when it comes to dealing with ad agencies, I suggest you learn all you can about our business. What’s important to us? What awards have I won? What’s my credibility quotient? What campaigns have I done? What directors have I worked with?

Do your homework about the people you’re talking to.

That’s what ad agencies do when we pitch business.

Martin Shewchuk is executive vp, chief creative officer at Leo Burnett, Toronto.