How Talia Beale created a nostalgic nightmare for Bricknasty

Directed by Academy's Talia Beale, this surreal promo for experimental Irish hip hop band Bricknasty's new track, Forever, takes us on a hallucinatory journey through a 3D animated council estate. 

Shot from a first person POV, Beale takes us on an unsettling trip through winding staircases, glitchy hallways and uncanny homes, inspired by the now-demolished working class estate, Ballymun. Angular walls and crooked doors draw visual inspiration from the work of Tim Burton and German Expressionist film The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, while peculiar creatures that look like they've stepped right out of a Hieronymous Bosch painting roam the communal areas. 

Despite its unusual inhabitants and horror-inspired sets, the promo feels more melancholy than monstrous, with nostalgic nods to Gen Z childhood, including early meme references, a glitchy video game aesthetic and a 2D animated sequence created in the pictochat function of a Nintendo DS. 

We caught up with Beale to find out how she and the team used a mix of CGI, photogrammetry, compositing and hand drawn 2D animation to create this dark and mesmerising film with a strict no AI approach. 

What was the brief like when you first came on board the project, and how did you collaborate with Bricknasty to develop it further?

There wasn’t really a brief! Bricknasty just wanted this video to be our biggest yet. Very broad, but I saw it as a chance to push things further and bring together our largest team of animators, all people I’d never worked with before too. He sent references ranging from Sharkboy and Lavagirl to Kentaro Miura illustrations and Diablo IV. I loved the idea of clashing these dark fantasy worlds with such a plucky, pretty song. We sent each other references every day this year often with zero context. I’d then dissect the recurring themes and imagery, figuring out how to stitch all these ambitious ideas into one world.

 There’s beauty and brutality and home in those images. Much like the contradictions of growing up on an estate.

The film pays homage to Ballymun, a demolished 1970s working class estate – where did you draw visual references from when taking inspiration from a place that no longer exists?

Ross McDonnell’s Joyrider was our core reference point, architecturally but mainly emotionally. Them images are pretty savage. It’s like we’re looking straight into an open vein of Ballymun. I wanted to draw from that same blood for this video. What struck me was the complicated relationship between people and the places that raised them. The devotion, defiance, tenderness and turmoil that can all coexist. There’s beauty and brutality and home in those images. Much like the contradictions of growing up on an estate. I resonated with it. I wanted this visual world to carry that same feeling of all or nothing. 

It became less about what we couldn’t use and more about what we could create. A chance to send our ideas to the stars.

Can you walk us through your technical process for creating Forever? What tools did you use and how long did it take to make?

Technically it was a Frankenstein operation. I split the song into nine 20 second scenes, each with its own concept and direction. Then I scouted nine animators online developing individual briefs packed with visual references, narrative arcs and camera directions to bring each scene to life. We used a mixture of CGI, photogrammetry, compositing and hand drawn 2D animation using a Nintendo DS. My job was to direct all these moving parts and stitch them into one continuous journey. The whole process took about a month but I had most of the animation delivered within 2 weeks. It was a mad turnaround only made possible by the ridiculous talent and imagination of everyone involved. Everything was made by human hands too.

We don’t need to sacrifice craftsmanship to make something ambitious, just rethink how we work and trust each other to bring our own magic to the table.

You had a strict no AI rule across the whole team, and each element was vetted to make sure it was human made. Can you tell us more about this decision, and how it felt to be working on a project without AI?

From the beginning FAMM [the record label] was clear that the final artwork had to be entirely human made. For me that was an opportunity to celebrate what our imagination can do. We were careful about who we brought on board, making sure each animator’s process aligned with that vision. Splitting the video into bite sized pieces allowed us to bring together wildly imaginative artists and build ambitious worlds in ridiculously tight windows. 

It became less about what we couldn’t use and more about what we could create. A chance to send our ideas to the stars. I’m madly proud of what everyone pulled off. It felt like a protest in itself, a reminder that human artistry is alive and kicking. We don’t need to sacrifice craftsmanship to make something ambitious, just rethink how we work and trust each other to bring our own magic to the table.

 This video lives beneath the scab. You lift it and find this magical, chaotic world full to the brim and ready to explode.

It strikes an interesting balance between scary, melancholy, funny and oddly nostalgic. Was this a feeling you were consciously aiming for?

Maybe subconsciously. My brain is full of bric a brac anyway and this video is probably the closest thing to how my mind works. My favourite films are The Grinch, Labyrinth and anything Tim Burton, so my eye naturally sculpts those flavours of dark humour, melancholy and strange nostalgia. I’m grateful Bricknasty let me unleash every idea. I wanted each scene to feel unhinged like a Diablo IV sequence or a Berserk comic. Not for the violence, but for that raw unfiltered emotion. This video lives beneath the scab. You lift it and find this magical, chaotic world full to the brim and ready to explode. I wanted that moment when something clicks and every thought you’ve ever had comes rushing through you at once. I wanted to make people cry.

I was fascinated by how estate stairwells can stir up such conflicting emotions though. They’re public yet deeply personal. Familiar but unpredictable.

Forever also combines these surreal, nightmarish creatures – knight, a lampshade with a face, a pig man – how did these characters come into the story and where did you draw visual/stylistic inspiration from?

I first developed ideas with Razorade, who brought Valeria Baret and Dario Alva on board. Together the trio built the staircase world, sprinkling their own bizarre characters and surrealism into the mix. Visually we drew inspiration from Ballymun flats, Mad God, The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. The characters themselves had no direct references. Stylistically they draw from a melting pot of early 2000s CGI, uncanny 3D imagery and absurd, deadpan humour the trio have soaked up throughout life.

With no industry voices chiselling away at our ideas, we were free to create something raw and maximalist. 

I was fascinated by how estate stairwells can stir up such conflicting emotions though. They’re public yet deeply personal. Familiar but unpredictable. You never quite know who or what you might encounter outside your front door. I saw the estate as a nest where strange things gather and the creatures became an extension of that idea. I love leaving that strangeness unexplained, letting people find their own meaning in things that feel oddly familiar yet hard to place.

Are there any interesting hidden details that we might miss on first watch?

The sword lodged in the concrete with blood seeping out around it and a colony of ants drinking from the pool. It’s my favourite moment and a very specific image I had in my head. I wanted to show that the building was alive. That it too had feelings. Like ants, we seem so small against these towering blocks, yet the stairwell becomes a vessel for our lives to intertwine.

What were the best, and most challenging, aspects of the project?

Collaborating directly with Bricknasty has been a dream come true. The videos came together much like the music itself, through a DIY, underground approach. With no industry voices chiselling away at our ideas, we were free to create something raw and maximalist. This whole body of work feels like an important chapter in both our careers and I can’t thank Bricknasty enough for trusting me.

I love throwing out a bizarre idea and having nobody bat an eyelid. Instead, they added more fuel to the imagination fire.

Working with the animators was equally exciting. They’re just as insane as I am. I love throwing out a bizarre idea and having nobody bat an eyelid. Instead, they added more fuel to the imagination fire. Everyone inspired me massively and I feel lucky to have tapped into a little piece of their brains.

The biggest challenge was finding the ending. An animator fell through, leaving us with missing footage just two days before delivery. We explored a few alternatives, but Bricknasty felt the ending needed more emotional weight. He pushed me to dig deeper, until we realised we needed to take our heads out of the sky and simplify. He sent me a stick figure animation, suggesting we bring things back to their roots. I knew just the people for it and together with Gavin Avenue and Tai Mei, we brought that idea to life which ended up being that final Nintendo DS scene.