Tactics not theatrics: How to direct footballers

It’s 2026 — a World Cup year — and every brand has suddenly discovered a deep, authentic, forever love for the beautiful game.

Despite the forever love, nothing kills the vibe at video village faster than a world famous footballer stepping onto set. We all know the score; the dead eyes, the flat delivery, the elite athlete moving like their limbs are a recent upgrade. They think it’s all over. It is now, and it sucks.

Nothing kills the vibe at video village faster than a world famous footballer stepping onto set.

The good news is that the rushes don’t have to look like a hostage video. Here are a few hard-won tactics I’ve learned from directing some of the world’s top footballers (and a couple of their managers). 

Above: Ben Woolf on set for one of his many projects involving footballers.  

First touch: Actors on steroids (figuratively)

A standard pre-production mantra is that footballers aren’t actors, so expectations should be low. Which is true but also, like actors, footballers are live performers built for pressure and timing. Their physical awareness is insane. They can hit marks all day. They have egos and agents whose job it is to keep those egos isotonically hydrated. What they lack is the actor’s superpower: the ability to translate vague director notes into something playable. 

Only let active, playable direction reach the talent. This should be the case with any performer, but with footballers it’s not just helpful, it’s essential.

A good actor gets hit with that classic banger: “Yeah that was good but a bit, you know… small but also… too big”. Their internal translator kicks in and what they hear is: ‘sharpen the intention, drive the pace, tighten the eyeline’. That same weak note to a footballer risks being taken seriously. Tragically, they may assume the director knows what they’re doing rather than having got the job because they met the creative director at a stag-do in Rome. 

So, they do the unthinkable; they accept the note and attempt to play the unplayable. Things fall apart. Suddenly, you’re not shooting performance, you’re documenting the end of a footballing era. The fix is pretty straightforward; only let active, playable direction reach the talent. This should be the case with any performer, but with footballers it’s not just helpful, it’s essential. Specifically, give your talent something 'do-able' not 'be-able'. Don’t tell Harry Kane to grin and wear the boots. Do tell him to intimidate the camera, or punish the winger, or slip the defender and score the goal. 

Above: Woolf's campaign for Etihad Airways, with John Stones, İlkay Gündoğan, Kevin de Bruyne and Scott Carson. 

The dragback: No extra time 

Shooting time is always tight. With top-tier athletes, it’s tight before you even turn over. You might have 45 minutes. You might have 15. Often, you go in thinking you have 45 and learn, mid-shoot, that you actually have 15. Which means the craft has to happen before the talent even steps on set.

Don’t leave John Stones hanging while you swing a lens. Don’t leave Kevin De Bruyne checking his phone while the gimbal gets rebalanced. The world must be built, the technicals nailed, the blocking bulletproof, the shots pinned down and rehearsed with stand-ins.

If you’re shooting an A-list footballer, you’re borrowing minutes between matches, training sessions, physio and driving very expensive cars.

Because, if you’re shooting an A-list footballer, you’re borrowing minutes between matches, training sessions, physio and driving very expensive cars. Value their time and they’ll give it back to you with that most precious thing on a commercial set; presence.

Above: Mexico international Edson Alvarez stars in a spot for La Bota Especial. 

The dressing room

Even if you’re calm and the set is humming, there’s a remaining opponent to tackle; panic. Footballer shoots are high pressure. The clients have picked this famous face. They’ve championed the project. There’s a lot of money on that monitor. If they don’t love what they’re seeing quickly, the panic creeps in: 

‘Is this good?'

'Is this, in fact, not good?' 

'Will I, in fact, look… bad?’

Get something decent in the can early on and make sure everyone knows it’s good.

That fear is contagious. Feedback gets vague, notes multiply, and suddenly everyone wants to help out. This is where you have to step up and play the manager. Be demanding but make sure you’re positive. Get something decent in the can early on and make sure everyone knows it’s good (or at least good enough to build on). Lead by example and give the room a sense of clarity.