00 / Thunderfoods · Concept · 2026
The storm opens the page. The bar drops out of it.
A landing page concept for Thunderbar, a protein bar made in London whose pack is a tally. One scroll-driven film: a storm over two peaks, the bar landing in a shaft of light, then each ingredient landing in a place of its own, in the number printed on the pack. Six days, one person, nine dollars of video.
The short version
Forty-nine seconds.
Captured from the page itself at thirty frames a second, not rebuilt for social. Everything below is how it was made.
01 / The idea
The pack is already a count.
Protein bars usually sell with adjectives. This one's pack front is a list of numbers. So the page says the count once, then goes to find each number: dates in a palm grove, egg whites on a seabird cliff, almonds in an orchard in blossom, cashews on a volcanic coast, cocoa in rainforest.
The bar never moves. It sits in the same place, at the same size, in every frame, and the world changes around it.
02 / The opener
One photograph, five kinds of weather.
The first storm frames were generated one at a time from a shared layout. As stills they matched. The moment a video model filled in the motion between two of them, the peaks slid across the sky: their landscapes sat up to 61 pixels out of line, and the model animated the difference faithfully.
So I rebuilt the opener as edits of a single photograph, changing only the weather. Take the bar away, bring in the storm, add the bolt, add the rain, put the bar back under a beam of sun. The landscape now moves less than two pixels, inside the clips as well as between the stills.
The bar is held the same way. Every frame is found by the lettering on the pack and nudged until the bar sits exactly where it does in the hero.
03 / The journey
The ingredient becomes the weather.
One photograph fading into another reads as a slideshow. So each place is reached through weather at its peak: heat haze into the date grove, sea fog onto the cliff, a blizzard of spray and blossom into the orchard, a squall onto the coast, a cocoa dust storm into the rainforest.
The place changes inside the weather. That also made the video cheaper to get right: no clip ever has to turn one place into another, only bring weather in or take it away.
04 / The rhythm
Short hits, long holds.
The first cut moved at one speed, so nothing landed. The page now runs on a timeline of holds and moves: a thunderclap gets under two per cent of the scroll, a number you stop to read gets more than five.
Every ingredient lands on camera, and the page jolts and slams its number in on the exact frame it hits, measured from the motion in each clip. In two clips the weather moved more than the landing did, so I set those by eye. The thunder gets a white flash.
05 / The type
The logo, measured.
The logo on their site is a 320-pixel image on a cream ground, too small for a hero. So I measured the faces instead of guessing: the logo's own word rendered in 63 font families at up to six weights, each scored for how closely it overlaps the original. Kumbh Sans for the wordmark, League Spartan for THUNDERBAR, Catamaran for the small type, all to be confirmed with the client. The hero lockup is laid out the way the pack lays out its name.
06 / What it cost
Nine dollars of video.
The stills cost time rather than money. On this job the paid image model lost to the subscription: it redrew the valley and re-lettered the pack.
07 / What this is
A concept, for a new client.
Built to show a founder what their own pack can do on a screen.
The landscapes and the closing photograph are generated and labelled as such. The pack is their real artwork. The ending is a placeholder for a real shoot.
It is unlisted and carries no index, like this write-up.
Download the walkthrough 1280 × 720 · 49 s · 10 MB