Vale Neil French: leaves behind a legacy that reshaped the creative fabric of agencies around the world, particularly across Asia

Neil French, one of advertising’s most provocative, influential and unforgettable creative minds, has sadly passed away in Majorca at the age of 81. Revered by many in the industry, and controversial to others, French leaves behind a legacy that reshaped the creative fabric of agencies around the world, particularly across Asia.

British-born and a globetrotting creative force, French truly made his mark after moving to Singapore in 1982 for a freelance gig with Ogilvy & Mather working for Michael Ball and then MD Rod Pullen. A copywriter by trade, he rose to prominence through his work with Ogilvy & Mather, Batey Ads and The Ball Partnership across the ’80s to mid-’90s.

This period produced some of his most celebrated campaigns, including standout work for Chivas Regal and Kaminomoto Hair Tonic – and the now-legendary XO Beer, a fictional brew promoted so convincingly in The Straits Times that people began asking for it in bars.

Returning to Ogilvy in 1995 as Regional Creative Director, French was named Worldwide Creative Director in 1998, and later ascended to the same role across WPP Group. He retired in 2005, spending most of the rest of his life in Majorca. By then had influenced an entire generation of creatives, pushing them never to settle for bland briefs or mediocre work.

He also taught a generation of Asian creative directors, copywriters and art directors never to accept bland briefs and inept strategies.

Singapore legend Jim Aitchison said: “Neil taught Asia’s smartest young account handlers never to write them. He engrained in both groups that great work was never comfortable work, and vice versa. The ‘Neil French-type’ ad became industry jargon. And not just in print and not just in Singapore. He championed the cause of Thai creativity, he cracked his creative whip in Hong Kong, and he scooped up all the regional awards with customary ease. His ads were the first Asian ads to appear in the international annuals. Everyone’s work was the better for his presence. Everyone tried harder, either to please him, or beat him.”

French also co-founded The World Press Awards with LIA owner Barbara Levy, a show dedicated solely to excellence in print advertising. Outside the ad world, he briefly managed the British heavy metal band Judas Priest in the 1970s, a footnote that only added to his mythic status.

Across his career, French received some of the industry’s highest honours, including the Clio Lifetime Achievement Award in 2003, induction into the AWARD Hall of Fame, Campaign Brief’s The Work Hall of Fame, and the New York Festivals Lifetime Achievement Award in 2009, and the Lotus Legend Award at ADFEST in 2015, recognising his lifelong creative excellence.

A true original, Neil French changed advertising. And the industry will be telling stories about him for decades to come.

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Former The Ball Partnership alumni David ‘Nobby’ Nobay, now CCO of Favouritechild.studio, sent Campaign Brief this tribute to his old friend. 

The Ball Partnership was my first agency. Technically, it was the third, but my first two gigs were “below the line”: In 1992, still a career-defining stain only erased, in my case, by trading wet, grey London for the neon back alleys of Hong Kong.

I was only 23 and, unbeknownst to me, a cigar-puffing, ex-matador was about to change everything I thought I knew about copywriting.

To put the cosmic impact Neil French and his eponymous agency The Ball Partnership had on global advertising in the 90s, just dust off any D&AD or One Show from that decade and count how many pages of print gongs (in those days, every great copywriter’s weapon of choice) were snaffled by us.

Snuggled between Leagas Delaney’s masterclass for Timberland and Fallon’s odes to Porsche, you’ll find an equal swag of pencil-winning prose from a region back then still considered “The Colonies” by the Armani-clad peacocks of Madison Ave and SoHo Square.

Granted, some of the gongs were for a chicken shop whose marketing budget perhaps belied the scale of Neil’s media ambitions. Many were also for what we used to romantically term “House Ads”; namely, lavishly crafted, long-copy recruitment ads for, well, ourselves.

Some have even suggested that Neil’s entrepreneurial approach to media-placement single-handedly invented the cult of “The Scam”. I’d prefer to think of him as an artist who resented the size of a page compromising the scale of his literary elan.

But what no serious copywriter can deny is that Neil re-invented how my generation learnt to write. In truth, Neil inspired us to “unlearn” the rules that David Ogilvy had so diligently imbedded in our young brains.

In that sense, Neil was no less a punk than Vivienne Westwood. He was our Lenny Bruce. Our George Carlin. He didn’t simply affect the form of copywriting. He bent it to his will. Dominated the page.

To call him simply an adman, would be to dismiss Hunter S Thompson as simply a journalist.

And, yes, viewed through the lens of the modernist marketing algorithm, Neil was a Dinosaur, too. But not just any dinosaur. He was the Titanosaur on T-Rex steroids.

So, if they do bury him, they better dig a bloody big hole.

Ad legend, author and close friend Jim Aitchison sent Campaign Brief this tribute.

The light has gone out. It used to burn brightly at 49 Beach Road Singapore when Frenchie would be up in his office at midnight, painstakingly writing a long copy print ad onto a layout pad and wondering where to put the award.

Of course, those glory days are long gone.

He lived in Majorca, keeping in touch with fewer and fewer people.

I spoke to Neil a few months ago for the last time. He sounded frail but defiant. He told me that his adopted son Daniel had sprung him from hospital and brought him home. He’d had back operations, a stroke, and heart issues.

He agreed that we’d had the best of times in advertising. I was told that when Neil was very young, a fortune teller predicted he would die at 18. The fortune teller must have been dyslexic.

Frenchie died at 81.

Barbara Levy, President of the London International Awards recalls meeting Neil for the first time:

His first words to me were “Darling, thanks for throwing this party. I was trying to decide how and where to tell the Singapore Creative community that I am leaving the industry. As they are all here and you are paying for it, I have now solved the issue.” That was circa 1990. That’s how I met Neil French, on the terrace of the Raffles Hotel in Singapore where he was holding court at a presentation that LIA was hosting, no less.

Many creative people say that Neil put Singapore advertising on the world map. He was not a man you could ignore. Or forget. He embodied how advertising was perceived at that time – ponytail, a purposeful strut in tight fitting jeans and cigar perched between his lips.

Love him or hate, you could never ignore him. His wit was rapier sharp, just like his writing. For all his flamboyance, Neil was as at home talking to the doorman at Raffles Hotel in Singapore, as he was talking to the movers and shakers of the world.

I know many people called Frenchie the Godfather. An advertising figure larger than life, But to me, he was all that. And more. He was a friend. He was supportive. He let me into his life apart from advertising.

The advertising world has lost one of its favorite sons. Neil French was a man whose life, even before advertising, was more interesting than even the ads he wrote. Today the world has become a lot less colorful.”

David Guerrero, Creative Chairman of BBDO Guerrero in Manilla, sent CB this tribute to his old friend and former colleague:

If one were following his advice I’d be writing this with an Extra Fine Pilot Hi-Techpoint, after drinking a bottle of fine Rioja from a glass that went “ting” when you tapped it. (See his entry in D&AD’s The Copy Book for details.)

But as time is of the essence this email will have to do.

Neil was undoubtedly one of the world’s great copywriters. A Lotus Legend. And for a couple of decades one of the most influential voices in Asian advertising.

I first met Neil in person when he was interviewing me for the job of ECD at Ogilvy Manila. I’d been told to appear at his suite at the Conrad Hotel in Hong Kong, and turning up early one Saturday morning, I found him still in his dressing gown, and somewhat the worse for wear.

After asking me to wait a few minutes he emerged, scrubbed, dressed, and ready to take a look at my portfolio – those were the days – and fortunately have him approve of the ads I’d done for local hairdressers and estate agents more than the big corporate campaigns for airlines and banks.

I got the job and became part of a regional team that included Piyush Pandey, Andy Greenaway, Steve Elrick, Sau Hoong Lim, Suthisak Sucharittanonta, Jureeporn Thaidumrong, Graham Kelly, Alan Couldrey, Sonal Dabral and many more.

He ruled the region with an iron fax, usually handwritten – that would print out directives to suits and creatives alike, relentlessly following up the status of favourite ads and ideas. Showering praise for achievement or threatening dire consequences for inaction or non-compliance.

The results were stellar – with the work winning awards at the highest levels, meticulously tabulated by Neil in either “Olympic” or numerical league tables depending on which worked to the network’s best advantage.

Ironically, the recognition led some of us – including me – to receive offers that resulted in our leaving the network (in my case after three years) but the lessons remained with us: Don’t lose focus on the work. Don’t let go until it’s finished. And for heaven’s sake have some fun.

After all, as he liked to say: ‘It’s only advertising, nobody dies.’

Recalling this now of course, it brings home the fact that it’s only true in this one sense. So, until then, try not to take anything too seriously.

Close friend and former colleague of Neil’s, Rowan Chanen penned this tribute:

The word ‘giant’ is often bandied about. But Neil fits that mould more than most. I say mould, and not mold, because first and foremost Neil was a giant pain in the ass. Sorry…arse. “English spelling dear boy, not American. I expect more from an Australian. Well, not too much more…”

He was of course, also a giant in the cheerleading department. The first time I interviewed with him he was engrossed in a print ad of mine that used the word “thwack” in the body copy. He suddenly looked up to say: “Oooh, best thing you’ve written so far”. I said: “Glad you like the idea.” “No, no,” he said, “but I do like the word ‘thwack’. Now let me see if I can hire you.”

And so began a long and enchanting relationship with a man who helped shape the lives of countless people who came into his orbit. Some for the worse, some for the better. He put Asian advertising on the map. So much so, that those of us who then ventured to the four corners of the world, suddenly found it a lot easier to be taken seriously.

His reputation was giant. “Don’t come back if you don’t sell it” was his mantra. He worked long and hard and expected the same from you. Many tried to emulate him, but he really was unique: writer, art director, typesetter, director, editor, actor (do watch Mission Manila 1988), karaoke king, bon vivant and raconteur. And those were just his day jobs.

There were indeed many sides to Neil. Most of them visible. But the one that people seldom saw was Neil the parent. At one stage I was using his office for months on end. I was surrounded by drawings on the walls all done for “Dad”. The effect Daniel had on him was wonderful to see.

There will no doubt be lots of tales recounted about Neil in the coming days, weeks and months. He lived a giant life. He enjoyed every minute of it. I once asked him how many of the stories about him were true. “About half. But you’ll never know which half.”

I will miss him. The endless laughs and the long lunches. The shenanigans and the showbiz. The deep and meaningfuls warmly wrapped in a couple of bottles of plonk.

Years ago I asked him to sign his book for me. I was initially a little surprised to see him seemingly jot down just two words on the page. He handed it back to me waiting for my reaction. “For Rowan, A friend. Love Neil”. Doesn’t get any better than that.

Thai and Asian advertising legend Jureeporn Thaidumrong recalls her time working with Neil and the ongoing support she always received.

So many stories to tell about this man.

He is the one who makes the world’s advertising industry interesting, not only in Thailand.

With humanity, one person who is smart, intelligent, witty, brave and frankly speaking without considering others.

He is the Godfather to many Creative people, including myself. He gives us a chance. He sees the value in us that others don’t see, even ourselves. He teaches. He orders. He supports in front of us and behind our back. He encourages, gives us peace of mind. He makes us who we are today.

He is a gentleman, a true legend of the advertising industry. The brave Matador.

The one and only Neil French. Thank you for your mercy.

I will never forget. I wish you a happy and beautiful place forever.

Hong Kong based creative director, and regular Campaign Brief Asia contributor, Chris Kyme is another who was sad to learn of the passing of Neil.

The legend of Asian advertising. Larger than life would be an understatement. I remember arriving in Hong Kong and soon becoming aware of his work and presence which was felt all over the region, especially at the award shows.

A brilliant copywriter as featured in the D&AD Copy Book, he didn’t take any prisoners, whether you were a “suit” coming back from a client meeting with bad news, or someone daring to challenge him on the touchy subject of ‘scam’ ads.

I remember commenting for a feature about him “He loves what he does and is ruthless about doing it well”. Whether from his time at The Ball Partnership or Ogilvy, my personally favourite work of his was either the very provocative print campaign for XO Beer in Singapore (created to demonstrate the effectiveness of print for Singapore Press holdings) and a typically simple TV commercial for Singapore tourism encouraging vendors to smile more.

Scandals, outrageous comments, and often brilliant work. If he didn’t exist, you’d have to make him up in some raucous book about expat life in Asia. Everyone had their own Neil French story to tell.

I remember judging with him at the Mumbai awards, where he was invited to “say a few kind words” to the audience which basically consisted of anyone who was anyone in Indian advertising, and after a brief hello proceeded to rip into the organisers about their policies of what qualified for entry or not, and returning to his seat mumbled to me “Nobody gets any sleep when I’m in the house”.

Loved him or not, they don’t make them like him anymore. RIP Neil.

Neil French’s famous XO April Fool’s campaign in 1993 for the Straits Times Group proved that major brands don’t have to rely on television to make an impact

Friend and Ogilvy colleague Eugene Cheong penned this tribute:

About 15 years ago, I held a town hall at Ogilvy Singapore’s spanking new office on Robinson Road and asked the crowd of at least 150 agency folks to raise their hand if they’d heard of Neil French. Not a hand went up.

The ad industry doesn’t know its history.

Without Neil French, there would have been no Tham Kai Meng, no Piyush Pandey, certainly no Eugene Cheong, no Dominic Goldman, no Justin Lim, no Troy Lim, no Jon Loke, no Andy Greenaway, no Steve Elrick, no Kelly Pon, no Gavin Simpson, no Ronald Ng, no Reed Collins, no John Koay, no Ajab Samrai, no Doug Schiff, no Alvin Lim, no Nicolas Courant, no Melvyn Lim, no Lou Yong Ping, no Jennifer Hu, no Giant, no Kevin JK Lee, no Abhijit Avasthi, no Rajiv Rao, no Sonal Dabral, no Sukesh Nayak, no Wisit Lumsiricharoenchoke, no Nopadol. Of course, I’ve left out a hundred other names and that’s just in Asia alone.

Neil was the force of nature that set in motion the creative revolution forty years ago, first in Singapore, then in Hong Kong, before spreading to Thailand and India. If you’re doing great, transformative work in Asia today, you have Neil to thank for breaking down the wall of resistance.

Without Neil showing me that mediocrity is not inevitable, I would most likely be a journeyman creative director in some in-house agency yessiring to a bean-counter and flicking through the One Show website wishing I could do the work I’ve done.

I owe Frenchie everything.

Neil French at one of the annual Campaign Brief Lunches at La Colombe d’Or during Cannes week. French stayed at the hotel each year during the Festival in the 90s. After being regularly featured in Campaign Brief Australia in the early 90s, French urged us to launch an Asian edition, which we did, helped by French who hosted our launch party in Cannes in 1997.