When Handing Creators the Mic, Control Isn’t the Enemy—Vague Control Is
Lessons we learned from working on Ford’s 'La Caravana'
“Be safe and obey the traffic laws.” The Ventura Twins’ mom laughs as she says it, sitting across from her sons at her table in Miami. She came from the Dominican Republic and built a catering business serving some of the best Dominican food in the city. And now her boys, two grown men who had almost never left Florida, are about to drive 2,700 miles to Los Angeles. Of course she’s worried.
Thirteen days later, the twins reached the Pacific. And the first thing they did was FaceTime their mom, because she loves the ocean.
Nobody scripted either moment. Both happened because of a decision we made months earlier, one every brand working with creators is now trying to get right: What to hold onto, and what to let go.
“La Caravana” is a three-part series we made with Ford and the Ventura Twins, who drove an F-150 Lobo from Miami to L.A., exploring Latino communities across the U.S. The industry is stuck on that same control question. Kantar found marketers caught between over-directing creators—which kills what makes them worth hiring—and under-briefing them, which loses the brand.
At Cannes this summer, UTA CEO David Kramer said brands “have to relinquish some control.” He’s right. But letting go only works when everyone knows what’s not up for grabs. The problem isn’t control. It’s vague control. When a brand never says what it needs, it ends up policing everything.
Here’s how we drew the line:
Be strict about the strategy. Before anyone was cast, we sat down with Ford and set the goals: What mattered to the business and to each department with a stake in it. Then we locked the fixed parts. The Lobo was the vehicle. The markets were narrowed from a longer list to Miami, Dallas and L.A. The creators, locations and stories were chosen together. Brands rarely spend enough time here, and it’s what makes everything after it safe.
Earn the access in person. Forums and social feeds tell you which communities exist. They don’t get you into a garage in Oak Cliff. That took phone calls, people on the ground and showing up long before the cameras did. It’s how we met Mark Mata, who revived the Dallas Lowriders, a club his late brother started in 1979. Mark told the twins about the first Sunday his daughter rode with him down Jefferson Blvd., top down, people honking at every light. He looked in the rearview mirror, saw her hair flying in the wind. Nobody gets a story like that from a cold call.
Give creators a plan, not a script. The twins got a route and the businesses we had in mind. Then we asked what excited them and what they wanted to learn. Their curiosity took them into the salsa house Ball & Chain in Little Havana, where they counted out their first steps (“one, two, three… more or less”), and onto Van Nuys Blvd. in Pacoima, where Levi Ponce asked them to help him touch up one of his murals.
Stay open to how the story unfolds. Open doesn’t mean unplanned. We filmed more places and people than three episodes could hold, so the strongest moments could win their place in the edit, and some favorites stayed on the cutting room floor. “You can’t schedule the good stuff,” as Phil puts it. The series came alive in the edit, where we built every episode around what actually landed: Levi remembering the night his sign-painter father, who’d questioned all that free work, told him over dinner that he finally understood why it was never about the money.
Lauren Vrazilek, who led the series at Ford, put the standard better than we could: “They really care about the people whose stories they are telling—and that comes through at every stage of the project.” That care is what a brand gets for loosening its grip. The series ran on Ford’s channels and the twins’ own, and it now streams on Creator TV and elsewhere.
It matters more every month. Audiences are overwhelmed, fed exactly what they like and buried in a flood of it at the same time. Real stories that show people places they’d never find on their own still cut through. No AI tool will make the phone calls or earn the trust that gets you into Mark’s garage.
So be strict about the strategy and open to the story. Do the homework, cast with care, then hand over the mic. Sometimes the best line in your series comes from somebody’s mom.
Related: Open Influence’s Alexandra Mathieu Charts the Future of Creator Marketing