Alcohol:
D'yavol
THE PRODUCT
The favourite adult pastime since God sadly gave us self-awareness- Vodka. D'yavol is a premium vodka from Poland that aims to shift the drinking habits of a whiskey-loving nation.
THE GOAL
Develop a truly unique style of tonality for the launch of the brand that sets it apart in the spirits space, not only in India but worldwide, yet connect to the new generation of premium drinkers.
THE PROBLEM
Whiskey and beer are still the top choices for many in India, Vodka remains a secondary choice.
Even in the premium market, with so many brands vying for attention through cultural touchpoints like music, art, and the elusive notion of "perfection," it can be a real challenge to make a splash and sell the greatest drink ever made.
MY ROLE
Stare at the deep abyss of the world and hope that I can come up with something from it that’s good enough. Post that, pin it down on paper and collaboratively work with the design team to see how it can best come to life.
THE SOLUTION
THE CCI
Irreverent, villainous, and scandalous. A drink crafted for the perfectly flawed.
D'yavol as a brand aims to own the hedonistic ideology and help people embrace their instincts. Even if the instincts, may be the most troubled things.
THE IDENTITY:
not
for the
faint-hearted
OWN
YOUR
IDENTITY
EMBRACE
HEDONISM
THE creative
From the socials to the pitched scripts that never saw the light of day.
the product that speaks
.
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Perfect imperfection requires no company. When you’re crafted with such care that each sip feels like the first time you ever experienced joy, trying to better it sounds like a travesty. There’s no room for improvement with the best.
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Some believe fine drinks call for an exquisite social setting.
At D’yavol, though, we believe the pleasure of drinking enhances when you focus on yourself – with or without company.
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Always look out for those in need.
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Keep it chill. From your grain to your relationships.
That’s why our vodka comes from the best winter wheat, no new age alternative (bull)schtick. It works best, and our empty glasses prove it.
Time you empty one yourself.
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Know thy grain, know thy drink.
And believe us, we know every single grain that went into this astoundingly fantastic drink. Well, largely because we planted it.
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You get what you deserve.
Be ready to get it all.
The world it speaks to
Engagement stories
The way of living
And lastly, some of the scripts that never got made.
We begin with the protagonist waking up in the wreckage of a plane crash. He’s got his suit on, which is slightly tattered, a glass on his chest and nothing more. In the background, you can see the plane broken from the middle, set on this beautiful beach during sunset, ¼ of it just hanging off nearly falling but not quite. He gets up, dusts himself off and begins walking. He walks over a few dead bodies avoiding them with a dance-like strut, prancing around them and jumping over them till he finds one body with a suit jacket that would go perfectly with the rest of his outfit. He delicately lifts the person off of the ground removes his suit jacket and puts it on. As soon as he has the jacket, he leaves the person with no remorse. The body falls back down to the ground with a thud as the protagonist continues on his way. He moves towards the inside of the plane and starts off in the kitchenette near the entrance. He digs inside the drawers of the kitchenette to find the bottle of D’yavol he’s been looking for. He continues his ascent up this ramshackle half-broken plane till he reaches the part that’s just hinging on a few sheets. We can see clearly that just a bit more weight on it and it would break off crushing the people that are below it, we can hear the moans and shouts of these same individuals. (We see this from a side angle view while he’s walking up to the chair) However, in this little bit of the plane that is left, we can see one singular pristine first class chair. The protagonist tries to walk ahead to go sit in it but as soon as he puts his leg on the aisle, it breaks off and falls down immediately crushing the people below. The screams reduce. We can see a singular arm uncrushed hanging on the side of the plane. The protagonist jumps down and continues his ascent towards this chair. He sits down, and looks over at this beautiful sunset in front of him with the waves crashing on the shore. He finds a pair of headphones on this seat and puts them on drowning out all the cries we could hear before. Miraculously, there’s music. He pours out his drink, sits back, relaxes and takes a sip. As we zoom out, we see the protagonist relaxing in this entire wreckage on this small island in the middle of nowhere. Supers appear: D’yavol. For the perfectly flawed.
Crash
Water
We begin with the protagonist walking into this art gallery and hanging his coat. He walks up to the bar next to the gate and asks for some whiskey. The bartender asks him, “Anything with it?” “Just some water”, the protagonist replies. He takes his glass, walks in and appreciates the artwork. However, while doing this the art curator of the gallery walks up to him and tells him, “Sir, please don’t breathe so close to it. You’ll dirty the artwork.” Cut to another scene where the protagonist is looking at a marble sculpture. The art curator again tells him to step back through a simple gesture. Cut to another scene where he’s looking at the main attraction of the event, an installation made completely out of paper and cloth. The curator just gives him a look and the protagonist steps back. He turns around and starts moving outwards. While on his way out he picks up another glass of whiskey and the waiter asks him, “No water this time?” He just replies, “I’ll get it myself.” While he’s walking away, we see that the main attraction has completely caught on fire and the sprinklers have come on dousing everything in the place with water. He lifts his glass a bit to get some water and takes a sip. He opens the doors while taking a sip and steps out onto the street. Supers Appear D’yavol. For the perfectly flawed.
Welcome to the brand that wanted to see the world burn. Or at least the bits that I wrote to be desecrated.