Armando Bo

With filmmaking in Armando Bo’s genetic code, he was destined to make a big impression. Laura Swinton meets the director armed with a licence to thrill

"My grandfather was a soft porn filmmaker from the 50s and 60s and my father was a super agent, kind of like an Argentinian James Bond."

My interview with director Armando Bo has got off to a promising start. We're only one minute and 10 seconds in and I seem to have landed the kind of quote that journalists' wet dreams are made of. And it wasn't, I must add, thanks to any killer questioning on my part. I think I opened with something dull and predictable like, 'so how did you get into directing then?'.

But let's get back to his soft-porn granddad - it's not the sort of statement you leave unquestioned. Grandpa Bo was indeed a well-known director, shooting films throughout Latin America. He was responsible for the first nude scene in Argentine cinema and was labelled as a pornographer by Buenos Aires' then military government - and persecuted because of it. "In those days, if you showed a tit it was called porn," says Bo. "But now in South America he is celebrated as an artist."

Considering that Bo's own directing reel comprises a noticeably large number of Axe commercials, sexy ladies and spurts of saucy humour, it's hard not to imagine that the spirit of his grandfather lives on in some small way through Bo Junior's work.
Armando Bo also shares his grandfather's name. "So I guess my future is in porn," jokes Bo. "My parents weren't so creative with that."

Bo's father was also involved in the movie business. Victor Bo was an actor who, among other things, starred in the film series Los Superagentes. He later swapped his licence to kill for a licence to thrill, working as a producer. He would take the young Armando to film sets, letting him peer through the camera and putting him to work as an extra. It was then Armando discovered that he was cut out for a career behind rather than in front of the lens.
"Once when my father was shooting a film in a small town, we were sleeping in a hotel, the sort of hotel where people go to fuck. But it was the best hotel in town so that's where we stayed. So, I was just a kid and in the night I would hear noises..." Here, Bo proves his acting days are not behind him, and he does a fair impression of 'sex noise'. "I was like 'Dad, Dad, what's happening?' And he told me that some actors were rehearsing - for a fight scene. From then on I knew I wanted to shoot rehearsals."

It was almost inevitable that Bo would enter production when leaving school at the age of 17. He started out as a personal assistant - a job which consisted primarily of nipping out to buy stuff - before moving on to locations, becoming a production manager and then an assistant director. By the time Bo started directing at the age of 21, he had already become something of an industry veteran.

It was his depth of experience and familiarity with ad production that meant Bo managed to skip the stage of 'struggling music video director' and move more or less straight into advertising. His first job, he tells me after much cajoling, was a short film in which he cast Argentinian producers. It was funny at the time, he assures me, but, while he might be on the other end of a 7,000-mile long distance phone call, I can tell he's cringing. He's been directing for about eight years now, but his reel is far from cringe worthy.

There's his work for Axe, including Quake in which one especially sexually-charged couple cause an earthquake that destroys a swimming pool. Bo says this ad is one of his favourites, with its challenging effects and sultry sex appeal. Throughout his work there's a wry sense of humour that nearly always makes itself known - sometimes cheeky, in the case of his VW spot Tennis Coach, sometimes surreal, as with the Rexona Dolls ad. When Bo does 'funny', he prefers to keep it ironic and understated.

Four years ago, Bo founded his own production company, Rebolucion, with fellow countryman Luciano Podcaminsky, forming what would prove to be a successful but noticeably un-Argentinian partnership. "Maybe in England or the States it's normal to have many hot directors together in one company, but here it wasn't so usual," he explains. "Maybe because egocentric Argentinians don't like it - they don't want to share and they always want to be the top guy in the company."

Podcaminsky and Bo, however, took a different approach. As well as co-directing occasionally, they could double their chances of getting work by pitching separately and help each other out with heavy workloads. Bo explains that he has no time for prima donna directors, and likens his own style to that of a football team manager. It's all about motivating the team, getting stuck in and keeping energy levels high, he insists.

And now, aged 29, Bo is ready to take on the world. Rebolucion has, four years on, firmly established itself in the Argentine ad scene. Its roster has grown to include five directors, including Baby, Doble Nelson and Luciano Urbani. In Bo's own words, his enterprise "has wings". Which leaves him free to concentrate on his own directing career and focus on the big markets beyond South America. A year and a half ago he signed with Anonymous Content in the US and he's also with Independent in the UK.

Bo's picked a good time to go global. With Fallon's Juan Cabral scooping the Grand Prix at Cannes and enjoying demi-god status, Argentina's creative credentials are on the ascendant. The country's reputation within the international industry has never been higher, and Bo reckons that this is definitely making things easier for him.

But although Argentina enjoys a high standing in the international industry, Bo points out that it is still relatively difficult for an outsider-director to get a foothold in Europe and North America. "In advertising you need to meet a lot of people and you have to be open. I mean you have your reel and your work, but being from here, the arse of the world, you have to travel a lot more to meet interesting or important people."

Not that travelling is too much of a chore for him. He says it is one of the most enjoyable aspects of the job and he has developed soft spots for New York and London ("they are the most creative cities - I have received a lot of inspiration when I've stayed there. And drinks. I have a lot of inspiration and drinks"), and over the years he has become something of a Cannes mainstay. All this travel coupled with a natural gregariousness has meant that Bo has managed to put himself about a bit, and in the process built quite a reputation for himself. I tell him that I've heard (putting it mildly) that he's a bit of a party animal. "No, that's not me," he replies sheepishly. "They must have been talking about another director..."

Advertising isn't the only area Bo hopes to charm into submission. This year he made his first steps into the world of feature films. Together with his cousin, he has spent the first part of this year working on a movie script for 21 Grams and Amores Perros director Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu. It's currently being filmed, but when pushed for details, his reply is that of a true super agent's son. He would tell me, but then he'd have to kill me.

However, it's obvious that Bo's bursting to talk about the project, and at least concedes that he's enjoyed the chance to try his hand at script writing, and that it's been a useful learning experience which has whetted his appetite for long format productions.
"I really like being a cliché," he teases. "You know, like all commercial directors who really want to make a movie. But," he adds, with a cocky twinkle, "I am a good cliché."