You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy.™
Television commercials that are so brilliant, so funny, so cinematically appetizing, I don’t even know what the hell they are promoting.
I am watching TV tonight and I swear I don’t know what the commercials are trying to sell me till the end of the spot, and by then, it’s too late.
Color me synaptically challenged, but I don’t know what the hell Madison avenue is thinking. Are they trying to win a Golden Globe for best use of esoteric visuals or is the goal to ultimately increase profits at Johnson and Johnson?
Unless these commercials beat me in the face with their logo, their slogan, their product set on fire pulsing off the screen, I just don’t know what they are doing.
One insurance company ad looks like every other. One headache medicine is like the next. A car that gets good gas mileage in the city and drives on a dry lake bed? Been there done that. I like the idea, but who the hell is your client? Audi? Subaru? Mercedes? Dayquil? I sure don’t know.
A smart phone commercial is as ubiquitous as weeds in an inner city park. Each commercial touts available minutes and friend plans and dropped calls. Are you Verizon or ATT or that chick with the Pink dress? Who does she work for? Nextel? Intel? Pen and Teller?
Want to make a good choice for your hair? Huh? That’s what Pantene just asked me at the end of their esoteric spot. Healthier hair, healthier planet. WTF does that mean. How can my hair product save the Earth. I don’t even care. Screw the planet. I want clean hair. Can it do that? who knows. At least they said the name of the product toward the end of the spot, otherwise I might have thought it was a seductive ad for condoms or internet porn. You see that’s the problem, a hot chick with hair flying in slo motion can pretty much represent anything
Hey there’s Mayhem. I like Mayhem. He’s hilarious. He falls off rooves and streaks naked through stadiums. I Love Mayhem. “RECALCULATING!” OK quick – pop quiz? Who does Mayhem work for? What is he trying to sell me? I just watched him during the national championship game and wrote about him, and I’ll be damned if I’m not drawing a blank. Mayhem Mayhem Mayhem? Nationwide right? That’s my guess as he drives a riding mower across a lawn littered with rocks. Oh Damn. Mayhem just said he’s All State. That’s right, All state. See I know Mayhem. I just can’t remember who pays his salary.
See this is my complaint. commercials that sing and dance and explode across the flat screen of my eyes, but I really don’t absorb any of it. It’s like a light bright set that illuminates but doesn’t translate to my memory in a concrete way. I have no connection. It’s like eating a delicious M&M and then swallowing it. The taste, while delicious, dissipates into my esophagus and is gone forever.
“What can a tiny grain of rice do?” the announcer asks. Well judging from this acid trip of graphics and animation, the rice can fly through time and space and across the world. I watch hypnotically as this rice granule flies across the globe, over the pyramids. Who is this ad intended for? What company is it promoting? Rice A Roni? I guess. GONG! The commercial is astoundingly well done and a Pixar work of art, but I will learn late into this production the little granule of flying rice belongs in a box of Uncle Bens. Hmmm? Honestly, I think they need to let me know this is an uncle Ben’s commercial from the opening scene. It’s not like a murder mystery where you need to wait until the final frame to learn who killed Colonel Mustard with the candlestick in the Conservatory.
I think these company’s are wasting our time. They are certainly wasting their dollars. If I wanted to take hallucinogenics and gaze endlessly at my flat screen with drool pouring out of my mouth, I could go to a Pink Floyd concert.
Ok there’s a guy playing a guitar with some words going up the side of the screen. It’s certainly an acid trip of neon colored squiggly snake letters flying around the perimiter of this 16″ by 9″ screen. The announcer, high as a kite on sylicibin says, “Any pizza any topping any crust.” Huh? What pizza? What fillings? What crust? What pizza company is this? I quickly hazard a guess? DOMINOES. nope. it’s Pizza Hut. Again, who the hell would know. Who sells a product in such a secretive way. We want you to buy our pizza and we won’t tell you who we are till the very last second. PIZZA HUT BUY PIZZAS FADE TO BLACK.
STUPID.
Have cold symptoms? Suddenly my screen is filled with tiny creatures that live under a purple light. “Jackpot” the creatures scream like old coin ladies saddled up to an Atlantic City slot machine. What is this commercial for? It’s brilliantly loud and creative and a cinematic work of art. I believe it is for the common cold. Is it Nyquil? Nope. 5. 4. 3. 2. MUCINEX! The announcer shouts.
Hey Ad Execs, what are you doing? 2 seconds of product placement. What was the other 28 seconds all about? It was a Chinese Fire drill of sensory over load that confused me. I don’t even know what Mucinex is. Somehow bugs wearing suits, and dancing around are suppose to make me want to patronize your product.
Now there is a gigantic Pink Bunny smashing into the side of a building like a fuzzy wrecking ball. The announcer says “to do a job well, this will take a while.” Suddenly the commercial is about
H&R Block. I am not sure what just happened. I am confused. I thought the pink bunny was the energizer rabbit. It’s a convoluted punch line that might entertain, but ultimately, today’s commercials lose my interest and make me forget their product.
It’s as if Will Smith just blasted me with the memory ray in MIB.
No time to dilly dally, another 30 seconds of something is coming at me at full speed. “Dear left brain. My car has a five star crash rating. Dear right brain, my car has a turbo and a sun roof. Now shut up.” Like most car commercials it is predictable and formulaic. the car is silver and the street is glistening with water. It is pretty film making. Ultimately I will learn that this pedestrian, box like car is an Optima. It is sad, because I thought it was an ugly Lexus. Instead of trying to make me “hot” for 25 seconds, you should have been beating me in the face with OPTIMA. OPTIMA. OPTIMA. Who the hell makes Optima anyway?
Hey Madison Avenue? Your ads are not working. Maybe I’m stupid, maybe I’ve got ADD. All I know is that what you are dreaming up in Chicago and filming in a L.A. is creative visual eye candy, but it doesn’t resonate with me. You need to sear your product into my cerebellum. I need to know what the hell you are selling me in the first 10 seconds. If you wait till 28 seconds in, before I can digest it, the next cell phone ad is all ready setting my pupils on fire and your message of Mucinex or Optima or Timex is scattered to the dusty corners of my aging brain.
The idea is to make me identify with your product, so I will utlimately put my hand in my pocket, pull out my wallet and buy your crap.
If I cannot remember if you make condoms or kid’s diapers, then you suck at what you do.
And that is crazy.