The Story Of The Holz Connection
Holz Connection took us to a family-run business in Germany. Before the advent of the Internet, Denys Nagel was, in his words, the “loft bed kind of Berlin.” But a changing market and an unwillingness to abandon his “old school” ways devastated sales. Nagel’s workshop lay unused, forcing him to reevaluate how he did business.
Luckily, Nagel’s son was more tech-savvy than his father. Despite having “two left hands” and no carpentry skills, he was able to leverage Facebook ad space to move the family business into the modern age. The old guard joined the new. Tactile became digital. And in the process, a family grew closer together. Without us, though, that story would still just be a number on a page.
So how did we approach it?
It was important to create a resonant narrative, so we began with Nagel’s former success, moved through the decline, and then finished with the post-Facebook gains—the solution to the company’s stagnation. To achieve that progression, we filmed Nagel at work in his workshop and interviewed both father and son about their respective memories of the company’s trajectory.
“If you’re in a difficult situation, you should ask people close to you for advice,” declared Nagel. Nagel’s son (name?) understood the importance of online marketing and the power and accessibility of the Facebook ad tool. With it, they were able to advertise, track progress, and discover a whole new customer base. And so, in the digital age, son’s savvy joined father’s skill to return a once-thriving business to its erstwhile throne.
The idea of connection was integral to this video’s success. Facebook ads not only brought the company closer to its customers, they brought together a family. This story was generational and intimate. So we found old family photos. We went inside the home and captured the family at the dinner table, and walking together in the German countryside. And we showed that Facebook ad campaigns are even capable of preserving legacies. “I feel like the carpenter now,” said son, aptly adding, “I’m really the carpenter 2.0.”
The past doesn’t have to die—it just has to be renovated.