shots Unsigned: Breanna Lynn

Breanna Lynn is a NYC based director and producer working across film, music, and commercial storytelling. 

With a background in the music world and a growing focus on commercial content, her work often centres on female-driven narratives, exploring themes of identity and emotional transformation. She is the founder of Leveret Studios, a production house dedicated to bold, character-driven storytelling.

The focus of her spec commercial Drive It Like You Stole It, is on the heat of a teenage street race, where a young woman reflects on her childhood dreams and how she's been inspired to drive it like she stole it.

Can you tell us a little about your background and your route into directing?

I knew I wanted to make films the moment the credits rolled after Almost Famous. I was thirteen, and I remember feeling so clearly that I wanted to recreate that sense of wonder, the feeling of being deeply understood, of the world suddenly feeling bigger. I grew up constantly shooting with friends, and was lucky enough to be raised by a mum who turned every apartment into a makeshift art studio. 

I eventually landed at UCLA in 2017, and when the pandemic hit, I chose to graduate early. I spent months alone in a small studio apartment in downtown LA, craving connection and the chance to make anything. As soon as restrictions eased, I started asking friends if I could shoot content for them, desperate for any creative outlet. Within a year, I had quit my corporate job and was fully supporting myself as a freelance director and producer in LA. In 2023, what was meant to be a one month stint in New York turned into selling all of my belongings and signing a lease. 

I now work between LA and NYC, but call New York home, and I credit so much of my growth to the creative community here.

Did you study filmmaking? How did you learn your craft?

I technically graduated with a film minor from UCLA, but I learned far more by making things constantly than I ever did in a classroom. I was never great at sitting in lectures, I’d usually choose working on set instead. I spent years producing and assistant directing while making my own projects with whatever resources I could get my hands on. Being surrounded by people who were more experienced than me pushed me to learn quickly. 

When people ask me for advice now, I’m a bit of a broken record: failing forward is the fastest way to grow, and that only happens if you’re willing to do the thing even when you’re scared.

Would you say you have a directing style? How did you arrive at it?

I direct and produce, which I know can be a turn off in agency circles, but it’s fundamental to how I work. There’s often this idea that producers are there to limit creativity while directors fight for it. For me, that tension is productive. It turns every problem into a creative question, a fun challenge: What can we get away with?

I direct and produce, which I know can be a turn off in agency circles, but it’s fundamental to how I work.

My work tends to scale ideas up, create space for play, and trust the team to bring their own instincts to the table. I’m especially drawn to female-driven narratives and stories that subvert expectations. I wouldn’t say I have a rigid style, but I hope my work always feels warm beneath the grit, like risks were taken, and everyone involved felt empowered to push something further than they could alone.

What was the inspiration behind your short film?

It started very simply: a few friends and I wanted to see if we could make a car commercial with zero funding. We were curious whether it was possible to take on one of the most expensive verticals in advertising purely through community and audaciousness. The script was inspired by my stunt driving uncles, obsession with fast cars as a kid, and how so much of my life now is centered around giving a gift to my younger self. 

Out of curiosity, I began sending the script and treatment around, pitching far beyond what was realistic. Within days, the project took on a life of its own: a luxury picture car appeared, a professional stunt driver offered to fly himself in from LA, a Russian arm car joined us for an overnight shoot, a functioning airport agreed to let us take over a runway, ARRI opened the doors to their virtual production studio. 

No one wanted a rate. By the first day of shooting, we had nearly eighty people on set, all there because they believed in the idea. The real inspiration became how contagious that belief was. Drive It Like You Stole It reminded me why creating together feels like magic.

Above: BTS shooting the film on location.

Where do you find the motivation for your projects?

My friends and community inspire me endlessly. I also pull from a wide range of references: vintage car ads, print magazines, and things that might not be considered particularly “highbrow.” The Fast & Furious franchise was actually a huge influence on this project. It was my favourite series growing up, and there’s an earnest joy to those films that never tried to be anything other than what they were. That joy stuck with me. I’m not afraid to draw from references that live outside the current taste-making conversation if they feel emotionally true or add to the challenge.

My friends and community inspire me endlessly.

What were some of the difficulties you faced in pulling this project together?

The scale was intimidating. I loved the puzzle of seeing what we could pull together: driving to New Jersey on a whim to convince an airport to let us shoot, emailing construction rental companies with memes begging for generators, learning stunt choreography over a cup of coffee on a Tuesday afternoon. The night before our first shoot, it all hit me. So many people were trusting my idea, trusting me to pull this off. 

Once we landed on set, that fear disappeared. I was surrounded by nearly a hundred people who showed up to do something that hadn’t been done this way before. There were plenty of challenges - freezing overnight temperatures, limited lighting on the runway, an SD card corrupting on our A-camera - but each obstacle was met with creativity and generosity.

Everyone understood the privilege of being there, and I was standing there in awe the entire time.

Above: Filming at ARRI’s virtual production studio.

How long was the shoot and what was the most challenging aspect of the project?

We shot over two days: one overnight at the airport and one inside ARRI’s virtual production studio. Post-production took longer than I expected, and emotionally the aftermath was the hardest part. 

During production, everything felt light, like flying. Afterwards, I suddenly held this project that so many people had invested themselves in. Releasing it into the world felt heavy. What began as a speculative experiment became something deeply personal, and I wanted to honour everyone involved. 

The process reminded me that the magic is in the making, in sitting in a hotel lobby in Brooklyn until 3:00 AM with your friends to figure it all out, in watching other people contribute to this amorphous but now somehow living idea. What started as a bet on a spec commercial became one of the most meaningful creative experiences of my life.

What have you learned during the process of making the film?

I learned the difference between inputs and outputs. This industry is brutal. It’s easy to measure success by money, representation, recognition, and social media following. Early on, people asked what the payoff would be, how I planned to monetise it, whether the brand would pick it up. The further I got, the less

I craved a specific outcome. The value was in bringing something together with people I care about, simply because we believed in it. Drive It Like You Stole It reframed what success means to me. I want a career built on collaboration, generosity, and helping others make things that inspire. I want to live in the infectious, magnetic energy of making something with people who truly love what they do, and aren’t just in it for what it says about them.