Art Director Carol Clements (with Director Marco Brambrilla) put together a Bombay Sapphire ad: "Supernatural", story, credits, Graphic design by Ahde Lahti. This spot is a moody, atmospheric, psychological journey through a world of instinct and subconscious desire. An experimental, neo-noir look heightens the elliptical narrative, which exists in a haunting, shadowy netherworld, telling the story of two lovers trapped in an escalating spiral of emotional deja vu. We open on a man and a woman seated at a simple table in a shadowy, abstract, modernist space. Striated light filters through slats in a window. A soft glow emanates from behind a closed door. These two are locked in a mutual gaze, a conflicted emotion heightened by the moody musical score. Her hands slide across the table and touch his. At the moment of this touch, he closes his eyes. The scene shifts to a hallway lined with thick dark red curtains. The man is there, confused, dwarfed by the enormous crimson walls. It´s as if he has slipped or been cast into a strange world, perhaps his own subconscious. He looks down the monumental abstract corridor. He sees a shadowy vision at the end of the hallway. He instinctively walks towards it, quickly but controlled, suppressing the urge to run. Suddenly the walls heave and sigh as if on a ghostly wind. They ripple away from him, billowing and beckoning him forward. The haunting sound of his footsteps echo through the corridor, backed by the phantom wind that seems to breathe within the curtains. He reaches the end of the hall to find that the shadow is gone, and the hallway splits in two, forming a maze. Confusion and paranoia descend over his face. He looks quickly from side to side, as if he feels he´s being watched. The curtains ripple, symmetrical and supernatural, inviting him to explore further. He stands there, frozen with indecision. A shift in perspective finds two slender female hands pulling aside the red curtains. The fabric parts to reveal a hidden view of the man far down the hallway. Perhaps the woman is in the maze with him, or perhaps she´s observing him from another room, another realm, another level of consciousness . . . The man bolts down the hall, urgently, realizing he´s lost inside the labyrinth. The shadow play and the curtains have gently coaxed him deeper and deeper. Now the curtains ripple more violently, as if daring him to proceed. As he runs down a corridor, the maze reconfigures, cutting off his choices, the curtain walls moving as if on rails. More shadow images appear just ahead, playfully tempting him, always out of his grasp. He stops, out of breath, realizing the futility of his actions. Standing perfectly still, the man begins to take deep, steady breaths. Tight on his face, we see his mental process, understand the game he´s playing. Mind over matter. If he stands perfectly still, the walls stop closing in. The slower he breathes, the less the curtains billow and blow. The pounding of his heart steadily abates. With a determined look, he closes his eyes. For a fleeting moment, all is darkness, and the only sound is the muted thump of the man´s heart. His eyes slowly open to the sight of his hands parting the red curtains, revealing the woman seated at the table, trancelike, aglow in a pool of light. She´s oblivious to his presence, almost as if he´s stalking her. Her hands rest on table. He walks over, carefully sits down, and places his hand on top of hers. Her eyes jolt open. The scene shifts to a long, narrow hallway lined with thick blue curtains. Dwarfed by the enormous blue walls, it´s as if she´s been cast into the strange world of her own subconscious. She sees a shadowy vision at the end of the corridor. Awareness sparkles in her eyes. She walks down the enormous abstract corridor, her footsteps making a ghostly echo that seems all too familiar. She looks around for him, sensing his presence. With a palpable sense of deja vu, she moves forward to find that the corridor splits into two directions, a maze. She smiles to herself, understanding that the game has turned. The blue curtains billow and ripple, as if on a ghostly breath, inviting her to venture deeper into the unknown. Conscious of her destiny, the woman looks down the long corridor that dissipates into shadowy darkness, a darkness that deepens to blackness. The camera tracks forward into the dark tunnel. As the end title comes up over blackness, the Bombay Sapphire bottle appears, backlit by an eerie radiance . . .