Finn McGough makes films that begin with people. Whether working in documentary, commercials or drama, his stories are driven by character, behaviour and the contradictions that make us human. His work blends careful craft with a documentary instinct, creating films that feel emotionally honest, quietly immersive and deeply connected to the people at their centre.

We're delighted to welcome Finn to MYTHSMYTH. To mark the occasion, we sat down to talk about observation, authenticity, psychology, analogue photography and why the best stories are the ones that leave room for surprise.

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What is it about human behaviour that consistently draws you into a story?

People who provoke more questions than answers. I'm drawn to unpredictable, mercurial characters because contradictory behaviour is endlessly fascinating. I've made documentaries with criminals and sociopaths where the gap between how they saw themselves and how others saw them became the story. Great Northern Soul dancing ability is also a bonus.

Your work often sits between observation and construction. How do you create films that still feel truthful?

Observing is constructing. The moment you point a camera, you're already making choices. Without getting too philosophical, I'm always trying to capture the essence of a person or relationship. I think of most of my work as portraiture.

My background is observational documentary, where you react instinctively to what's unfolding. Commercials understandably require more planning, so my approach is to build a strong blueprint while leaving as much room as possible for spontaneity. It's controlled chaos. Although I'm not sure advertising always appreciates the word "chaos."

What does good directing mean to you now?

The older I get, the more I admire directors who don't need their fingerprints all over every frame. Confidence comes from doing what's right for the story, not showing off.

A recognisable style should emerge naturally from your process, not from trying to appear distinctive. The world is visually noisy enough already. For me, people, place and genuine human connection will always be more interesting than style for its own sake.

Do you approach documentaries, commercials and drama differently?

Not really. I tried to make documentaries like dramas, then I started making commercials like documentaries. Even when working with actors, I encourage them to behave like real people rather than perform.

Whatever the format, you're always fighting against the artificiality of cameras, lights and crew. The goal is always the same: make it feel authentic.

What are you hoping an audience feels before they fully understand the story?

Curiosity. Maybe even a little confusion. I want people to lean in, ask questions and gradually discover what's really going on.

The best stories create empathy. They remind us that our own feelings aren't unique and that someone else has experienced them too. That's why stories matter. It might sound ambitious to say commercials can do that, but I've made films about cancer research and films about chips, and both can still make people feel connected.

How much comes from preparation and how much from instinct?

Preparation is essential, but over-preparing can take the life out of a shoot. Some directors thrive on meticulous pre-visualisation. For me, that can make filming feel like simply executing something that's already finished.

My background was making factual films in places like Kenya and Peru, often arriving with half a script and discovering the rest along the way. It's a cliché that the best moments are unscripted, but it's often true. I'm comfortable with the unknown and think it can become an advantage.

Can you remember a moment where something unexpected became central to the story?

The first commercial I directed was for Visit Wales with Wieden+Kennedy. I had no idea how the advertising industry worked and was surprised they'd hired someone whose previous film was a gritty BBC documentary about Gypsy communities.

We cast a real family and simply took them on holiday around Wales for five days. The locations were planned, but everything that happened within them was real. The emotion wasn't performed, it was observed. Every day surprised us, and I think that's exactly what ended up on screen.

Your recent Psychology MSc feels closely connected to your work. Has it changed how you direct?

Technically my psychology background came afterwards! I completed an MSc last year, although I probably should have done it before interviewing people for documentaries.

I've spent years asking people to share incredibly personal stories, from victims of crime to people who'd been wrongly imprisoned or lost loved ones. Looking back, I wish I'd had a deeper understanding of psychology much earlier because it's a privilege when people trust you with that kind of vulnerability.

My dissertation explored the changing representation of families in UK advertising, which unexpectedly became very topical. Apparently I also now have a 10,000-word thesis ready for anyone struggling with insomnia.

What does analogue photography give you that digital doesn't?

I'm part of the generation that embraced digital because it felt revolutionary. But somewhere along the way I realised I'd missed the physical experience of making photographs.

After shooting a Volkswagen campaign on Super 8 and 35mm, I started developing film in my kitchen, scanning it myself and eventually went back into the darkroom. Slowing everything down has become part of the enjoyment. Human beings are analogue. Maybe that's why analogue processes still resonate so deeply.

After years of travelling, documenting people and making films, what still excites you?

I sometimes wonder whether filmmakers are simply trying to collect the world. Does everything really need to be photographed or filmed?

We're saturated with images now, and I find myself increasingly drawn to photography because it's something I can do every day, entirely on my own. It gives me permission to wander, to get lost and to pay attention.

I've been incredibly fortunate that filmmaking has taken me around the world and introduced me to extraordinary people. That sense of discovery hasn't disappeared. It's still the thing that keeps me coming back. Winning the jobs helps too.