Alienation, Absurdity, and the Art of Belonging Inside Cero Ismael’s ‘Driving Round Looking for Unknown’
With their latest collaboration for Cero Ismael’s hauntingly introspective track, ‘DRIVING ROUND LOOKING FOR UNKNOWN’, directors Folkert Verdoorn (repped by LE BERG, 100%, and magna studios) and Simon Becks deliver a music video that is as unsettling as it is poetic. Set in a surreal landscape where Napoleonic-era ruins meet the eerie sterility of late capitalism, the video weaves a tale of alienation, drawing viewers into a world that feels at once timeless and present.
At the heart of this narrative is the figure of Cero Ismael himself, a monstrous yet tragically human character dragged through these contrasting realms by a pair of toy drones. It’s a striking image – grotesque and absurd, yet deeply emotional – that encapsulates the directors’ exploration of what it means to feel displaced, to search for meaning in unfamiliar territories, and to embrace the discomfort of not belonging.
The music video began with the seed of an idea: a drone-pulled carriage. From there, Folkert and SImon’s process unfolded through long-form association games and collaborative brainstorming, to build an intricate world where themes of alienation play out beautifully. The introduction of the ‘monster’ – both iconic and displaced – brings a new depth to the narrative, while the deliberate choices in set design, costumes, and casting push the piece further into the realm of playfulness and freshness.
It was through meticulous attention to detail – whether in the prosthetic design inspired by rare diseases, or the colour grading that mimicked restored historical footage – that Folkert and Simon created a piece of work which blends the lines between eras, genres and emotions. The result? An arresting visual piece that invites audiences to sit with the discomfort of the unknown, to laugh at its absurdity, and perhaps, like the monster at its centre, to find a strange joy in the ‘search’.
Speaking to ÌìÃÀÆåÅÆ, the two directors unpack the humour, absurdity, and raw emotion that bring to the enormous weight of this unique story.
ÌìÃÀÆåÅÆ> What was the inspiration for this music video, and what was the process behind evolving the idea creatively?
Folkert & Simon> While listening to the track, we felt we were drawn to the alienation. But in a lazy way. Like, ‘My god, I thought I knew this place, but I really don’t’ – but then also the ‘Hakuna Mattata’ vibe about it.
It’s like being a maker – of film, art, music, or whatever else – because you constantly fall into this place of ‘What am I doing here?’, but you’re also perversely enjoying it… maybe?
We started with the idea of a carriage being pulled by drones and built the world around that. We often use long-form, exquisite corpse-style association games to come up with unexpected or new ways to approach topics and genres. This sense of alienation felt like a key theme.
Halfway through development, we realised we were playing it safe. We liked the idea of the monster – it’s always out of place, never accepted or settled. But we started to question whether you can truly feel alienated in a fantasy setting as a monster. After all, isn’t that where monsters belong? So, we decided to insert it into other arenas. The trappings of late capitalism felt appropriate – egg-shaped bathtubs, home trainers, and toy drones.
ÌìÃÀÆåÅÆ> How collaboratively did you work with Cero Ismael on the project?
Folkert & Simon> It was a collaboration, and somehow at the same time, it wasn’t. We always felt, and were given, absolute creative freedom from Cero. He’s very ambitious and proactive (applying for funding for the films, etc.), but I think he knows the best things often happen when we just do our thing without worrying or micromanaging.
We did have some chats about possible sensitivities – things we felt we needed to check. Not everyone would be comfortable being pulled behind a carriage over a rocky road wrapped in tarp (physically, socially, or politically). Oh, and the prosthetics. He never grumbled or complained, not once. And, come to think of it… he never even went to the toilet. Weird.
Above: Cero's transformation
ÌìÃÀÆåÅÆ> What references inspired the visual style?
Folkert & Simon> It’s a real smorgasbord of this and that. We took a deep dive in historical postcards, photography, and early horror films. For the prosthetics, we looked at rare diseases like elephantiasis.
We wanted to explore and blend different genres and worlds, avoiding just a pure fantasy/sci-fi core aesthetic. The combination of us as directors brought a merger of deadpan with spectacle, which we felt worked well.
ÌìÃÀÆåÅÆ> Tell me about your casting process. Did you have a strong idea of what you were looking for in your lead characters – the girl and the woman – or were there certain characteristics those actors brought that fit your vision?
Folkert & Simon> We worked with our friend and casting agent, Ami. The three of us felt we wanted to work with fun and cool people that could bring their own flair to the characters and the world we wanted to conjure up. It also gave us the chance to avoid becoming too ‘era appropriate’. Baby hairs. Piercings. We were looking for that anachronistic fiction where things might seem out of place, but at the same time, they weren’t.
Above: Cero behind the scenes
ÌìÃÀÆåÅÆ> The set design and costumes are obviously incredible, and so detailed! How important was it to set the colour palette and finesse the details to get the right feel for the world?
Folkert & Simon> The talks with the art department (Kino Haverkorn) and styling (Anne Baarslag) revolved around this balancing act of communicating a sense of time and place, while still maintaining a playful anachronism and authenticity. We kept asking ourselves: ‘Is this too costumey?’, and ‘Is this too weird?’. Things needed to click.
About the color palette, we had chats with De Grot about texture and grading. We came to the realisation that it had to feel like found footage that was colourised later on. Like those historical films on YouTube that have been restored and coloured in. It gave the piece a faded, historical feel that anchored elements like Archibalt and Bob, the drones, into the world.
ÌìÃÀÆåÅÆ> There's a real blend of dark humour and absurdism contrasted with real emotion and depth in this piece – how did you make sure to balance humanity while also incorporating the supernatural and technical layers?
Folkert & Simon> We felt humour was needed to balance the sadness of the monster’s alienation. We imagined what would happen if we leaned into the wondrous and weird within the fantasy/sci-fi world. That gave us room to ‘cash in’ on the transition to a cold, clean late-capitalist setting.
If the visuals are exploding your senses all the time, and all that pressure drops and we end up in a clean bathroom – where we just hear the monster panting – that must be really disorienting and eerily scary. It’s a moment we felt that matched well with the things Cero sings about.
