The Story Behind Ocean View Studios: Helping Fandom Brands Grow Through Video Marketing!
You know when someone asks, “So, what do you do?” and your answer feels more like a plot twist than a job title? Same here. These days, I help creators and brands in the fandom space tell their stories through professional video production and marketing content that genuinely connects. But it’s been a journey to get here.
Cue the flashback sequence…
I was born in Worksop, near Nottingham, in the late ’80s, although we didn’t hang about there long. My family moved down to East Sussex when I was still in nappies, and that's where my earliest memories start. I was your classic ’90s kid, football-mad, obsessed with Power Rangers, and absolutely convinced Playmobil represented the peak of toy engineering. I’d rope my older brother into building entire dioramas across my bedroom floor.
Weekends involved playing sports and day trips to Hastings or Battle, immersing myself in history, chainmail, swords, knight figurines, the lot. Robin Hood and Peter Pan were my heroes; something about the cloaks and running wild probably appealed to me.
But while I was busy kicking footballs and climbing trees, another side of me quietly developed, the nerdy side. I struggled with reading and writing, so comics became my gateway. My two older brothers had The Beano and The Dandy, and although I couldn’t always follow the words, I’d spend hours absorbed in the artwork. Somehow, the stories still resonated.
Then, at the age of 11, we moved to Devon to be closer to family. I leaned even harder into the sporty lad persona, joined the football crowd, and tried blending in with the “cool kids.” But quietly, away from the spotlight, I was still collecting Pokémon cards, spending every penny of lunch money on booster packs. I never let go of the geeky stuff, I just kept it neatly tucked away.
from washing dishes to youtube success:
how i got into fandom filmmaking
I was never one for books, but give me a paintbrush and some minis and I was golden. I was into Warhammer before I could even spell it.
But school? That felt like the enemy, especially when dyslexia became the label slapped on me. At primary school, I’d get pulled out of PE for extra English lessons. By secondary, I was regularly dragged into the special-needs room. So yes, I switched off, got cocky and acted up. I wasn’t bad, just bored, and made sure everyone knew it.
At home, the message was clear: “Do well in school to get a good job.” The trouble was, school never clicked with me. But work? That made sense. I was raised to believe if you wanted something, you earned it, no handouts, no excuses. So while others chased grades, I chased paycheques.
By 13, I was already scrubbing dishes at the local pub after school and at weekends. I didn’t mind it, actually. I liked graft, liked having something practical to do. Over the years, I moved up from plates to prep, then desserts, eventually becoming the right-hand to the head chef. Not bad for a teenager with no formal training, just a solid work ethic and a point to prove.
I knuckled down that summer, revised hard and got my GCSEs. Even stuck out AS Levels for a bit. But university? Not for me. I didn’t want to be a doctor or lawyer, so what was the point? I went straight into full-time work at the pub, pulling long shifts and learning fast. After a couple of years, though, the relentless hours began to grind me down. So, I quit and bounced between random jobs for a while, figuring out what to do next.
Then came the role that quietly changed everything.
I landed a job at the local cinema, starting out on the floor. Gradually, I worked my way up to assistant manager and even helped out in the upstairs restaurant when things got busy. I wasn’t making films yet, but I was surrounded by them. Better still, I found my people, a group of misfits all buzzing off movies, Guitar Hero marathons, board game nights, and geeky chats.
After four years, I needed a change of scenery. I headed to the States to work as a lifeguard at a summer camp in New York State. Mentally, I was in a rough patch, but that trip gave me space I didn’t know I needed. I met friends I still keep in touch with today, and without realising it, took my first steps toward something bigger.
Returning from the States, I wanted a job that would let me travel, so I joined EasyJet as a flight attendant. On paper, it sounded like a dream job; flying around, exploring the world, and getting paid for it. The reality was less glamorous, delayed flights, long hours and rude customers. But still, I travelled, met some amazing people, and experienced life on the go.
Then, in 2011, while visiting my family, I woke up in the middle of the night with sharp back pain. At first, my folks thought it was just indigestion, they had me pacing the living room with a bottle of Gaviscon! But it turned out to be something much worse… Myocarditis, a heart condition that sidelined me for over 18 months. It was tough, but that enforced pause gave me the space to reflect and ultimately shift direction.
While I was off work, my creative side reawakened. I began creating my own comic books and painting shoes. Yep, painting shoes, random I know. But let me explain. When I was working in New York, I saw a street artist using spray paint and stencils to customise trainers. It stuck with me. Back home, I fell into a YouTube rabbit hole, discovering artists like Jacob Patterson who really inspired me. I grabbed a pair of trainers, painted them, and never looked back.
When I finally got back to full strength, I saw potential for a business. With a small grant from The Prince’s Trust, my custom shoes took off. I painted everything from Marvel characters to cityscapes, meeting heroes like Stan Lee, Jason Momoa, and Roman Reigns along the way. Honestly, I still can’t quite believe it.
All of this eventually led me to picking up a camera.
Initially, I started filming to promote my business. Just me, a cheap camcorder, and a shaky setup. At first, it was just my hands painting on-screen, no fancy lighting, just basic edits. But people still watched.
Then came the trip that changed everything, WrestleMania 30! Leading up to it, I decided to vlog and finally got myself in front of the camera. While on a trip to the USA, I witnessed The Undertaker lose to Brock Lesnar, a monumental moment in wrestling history. I filmed the crowd’s reaction, edited the footage, uploaded it, and it blew up. Over a million views, madness! Soon people were nicking my footage, forcing me to quickly master copyright strikes. Eventually, WWE took the video down, but by then, I was hooked! Shoes just didn’t cut it anymore.
From then on, I was committed to video production full-time.
from self-taught indie filmmaker
to award winning creative director:
how i broke into the film industry
Riding the wave from my YouTube videos, I decided it was time to fully commit to video production. I began with small projects, filming content for local businesses, helping friends, and even capturing a few family weddings. At the same time, I soaked up knowledge from books, online courses, and even advice from industry pros. Gradually, I started to feel more at home behind the camera.
Then, out of the blue, a mate messaged me:
"Wanna help make a short doc?"
"Sure," I replied. "What’s it about?"
"No idea."
Classic. But that casual nudge turned into something bigger than either of us expected. At the time, I’d gotten back into wargaming and planned on entering a miniature painting competition, so I suggested, “Why don’t we film that?” A neat story, clear start, middle, and end. Sorted.
Until the venue’s roof literally collapsed, and the whole event got cancelled.
Still, a few of my mates were heading to another wargaming tournament. So I thought, sod it, let’s just follow them instead. No pitch deck, no script, no funding, just a camera, a few favours, and genuine love for a hobby that had quietly helped me through tough times.
That’s how Miniature Wargaming The Movie was born.
At first, we figured it’d be small, a niche story for a niche audience. But the more people we spoke to painters, players, game creators, the clearer it became that this was about much more than toy soldiers and dice. This community was full of creativity, connection, even therapy. People used wargaming to cope, build friendships, and find their voices.
At that point, my mate couldn’t commit to a big feature, so I took the idea and ran with it. I launched a Kickstarter to fund the film, drawing support from the wargaming community. That funding helped buy gear, pay the team, and bring the project to life. After two years of hard work and determination, the film was finally complete, and then things really snowballed.
The film was accepted into over 30 festivals, winning awards like Best Documentary, Best Feature, and Best Gaming Film. I was even honoured as Best Director at the South Europe International Film Festival in Valencia. It screened and won awards at major US festivals such as Gen Con and Origins Film Festival, was taken to Marché du Film at Cannes (yes, that Cannes), and secured distribution deals, landing on Apple TV, Amazon Prime, Sky Store, and more.
But the real highlight? The messages I received. Wargamers saying they felt seen for the first time. Parents telling me their kids had picked up a paintbrush after watching the film. People sharing that it helped them feel less alone. That was the true win.
Of course, the whirlwind had a cost. By the end, I was thoroughly burnt out. I’d invested everything into it for years; my time, savings, and even health had been affected. I tried to ride the momentum by turning unused footage into a web series and launching another Kickstarter, but it flopped. That stung.
Yet, it gave me time to breathe. I returned to freelancing, worked with businesses, and even joined the British Film Institute (BFI) Network. I wasn’t directing, but I was still deeply involved, helping other creatives secure funding, reviewing rough cuts, and offering the kind of guidance I’d wished for when starting out. I also landed on other people’s sets, working with forty-strong crews, full stunts, and tight schedules. It was chaos, but I loved every second of it.
I bounced between gigs producing podcasts, filming promos, branded videos but eventually craved something more structured. So, I accepted a full-time role as Creative Director at a video marketing agency. Proper grown-up stuff: national clients, major campaigns, team leadership, and creative strategy. I learned a lot. But after some time, I felt the urge to grow further, to help build something entirely new.
That’s when I joined a massive UK-based media company. They wanted me as the Creative Producer to build a new content studio from scratch. The brief was exciting: shape the infrastructure, build a talented team, and lead all things video. I was fired up and ready to dive in.
Then, just four days before my start date, the project was suddenly pulled and I was made redundant.
That hit hard. I stood there thinking, "What now?"
Strangely enough, it also lit a fire under me. For years, I’d helped other people realise their visions. Maybe it was finally time to fully embrace my own.
So, I dusted off the Ocean View Studios name and got to work.
from fandom to video marketing:
how pop culture and geekdom
inspired my creative journey
Ocean View Studios has always been about telling authentic stories for people who are genuinely passionate about the fandom space. It didn't happen overnight; back in 2015, it was just a name on some business forms to help me and my camera feel a bit more legitimate. But after completing Miniature Wargaming The Movie, I knew it was time to make it official.
When redundancy inspired me to restart the business, the mission remained the same, to create real heartfelt content that resonates with fans. Whether I’m collaborating with indie game devs on their Kickstarter videos, capturing behind-the-scenes magic at board game launches, or crafting branded documentaries for pop-culture businesses, that’s my lane.
Today, Ocean View Studios isn’t a backup plan, it’s the result of everything I’ve been working towards. All those odd jobs, random side gigs, and moments where I thought, “let’s just give it a go,” have led to this. It was always the plan, even if I didn't realise it at the time.
I don't run a big agency, and you definitely won’t catch me in a suit. What I do is simple, create fantastic content for amazing people doing incredible things.
And this blog? Well, it’s an extension of that philosophy. Even if you can’t afford to work with me directly, I still want to help by sharing tips, lessons, and hard-earned advice. My goal is to help fandom businesses and creators make content that genuinely connects. No jargon, no fluff, just real talk and a good dose of geeky enthusiasm.
why i started a video marketing and
video production blog: real advice for
geek culture and fandom brand growth
As a lifelong fan, I’ve seen too many incredible fandom projects fall short because of poor video marketing. My goal is to help creators master the essentials, turning underwhelming videos into story-driven masterpieces. But it’s not just about making your content look good; it’s about making sure your videos actually deliver results. A glossy video means nothing if it doesn’t engage or convert.
Each month, I’ll share practical, straightforward advice. Whether you’re an indie game developer launching a Kickstarter, a YouTube creator building an audience, or a fandom-focused business looking to connect with your community, I’ll guide you through the essentials, from choosing the right lens to match your visual style to crafting story-driven edits that convert.
Whether you're looking to improve your videos or need hands-on help to reach your goals, I've got your back. If you’re ready to elevate your content, let’s get started with my, Simple Guide To Choosing the Right Camera for Your Fandom Content & Video Marketing blog.
However, if you need more personalised support, I’m here for that too. Simply drop me a message using the ‘Contact Us’ form on my website, and I'll arrange a time for us to discuss your project.
Well, that’s all, folks! Keep an eye out for regular tips and updates designed to help your content shine. Feel free to leave a comment below and share your thoughts. Let’s build something amazing together!
Catch you in the next one. Happy filmmaking! - Joe Piddington