Sprint has a new campaign featuring retired soccer star and super hunk, David Beckham. Undoubtedly, you’ve seen it. He plays himself looking for a phone plan that isn’t complicated. In the long version (above), he marches from store to store, and is continuously baffled by the salesperson’s spiel. “I’m so confused,” he states. Because he is who he is, more and more fans begin following him on his search for a non-confusing phone plan. At the Sprint store he finds what he’s looking for. The star struck sales gal says, “anything for you, David Beckham.” By then a cast of thousands have accumulated behind him. Upon discovering his “All In” plan, they clamor for the deal as well. In the last scene, David crosses the street, delicately holding up his Sprint yellow bag, creating a wake of fans, one of which blurts (for some reason through a dental mouth guard!), “I love you, David Beckham.”
So, before digging in to this, let me state I’ve always been ambivalent toward celebrity endorsers. When pushed, most copywriters will tell you that celebrity driven adverts are what one does when one has no choice. That’s not to say I haven’t gone down that road. One can’t go 25 years in this business and not. But those have never been among my favorite “works.”
Of course, I get that famous people can sell. But from a purist point of view, I like them to be relevant to the product being sold i.e. athletes for Nike (Just do It) or unique geniuses for Apple (Think Different). I’m also down with certain iconic campaigns that leverage celebrities in an indelible way i.e. the compelling portraits Annie Leibovitz created for American Express. Or, back in the day, retired ball players for Miller Lite.
Sprint’s Beckham campaign does neither. In my opinion, he would never, ever spend a day traipsing around looking for a cell phone plan. For one thing, Posh wouldn’t allow it. Secondly, he has people for that. Thirdly, a man of his wealth and stature wouldn’t be worried about incremental fees on his phone bill. If he is then he’s the biggest douche bag on the planet.
From an executional standpoint, why does everyone keep saying the man’s full name. “I love you, David Beckham.” “Anything for you, David Beckham.” It’s cheesy. It’s preening. It’s weird. It feels like something a client would mandate. We spent all this money getting David Beckham we better f-cking say his name! Can’t you just hear them? I could.
And what’s up with the strange way he carries that yellow bag? It’s like he’s holding a dead gerbil. Trust me, that was produced into the spot (Hold it up so the camera sees it!) and it’s not normal.
I’m nit picking. But the details will out!
This is an incredibly expensive production. We see and hear many principals, including one mega-celebrity. I’m only guessing but I presume the contract with DB was preordained. So be it. But I would have much preferred a spot where, say, he and his well-known wife have an improbable conversation about choosing new phones. Like “Gee, honey, do you honestly care about your phone plan?” He replies: “I do when they’re paying me 1.5 million Euros.”
Cadillac keeps trying to reinvent its wheels, this time channeling Theodore Roosevelt, suggesting we “dare greatly.”
February 26, 2015
If you can make it here yada, yada, yada…
Has it really been over a decade since Cadillac reintroduced their brand via the Modernista agency and a Super Bowl commercial featuring Led Zeppelin? It’s actually been longer. What’s weird is that Cadillac always seems to be reintroducing itself to the world. And so yet another new brand launch campaign, this time from Publicis, comes as no surprise. Now the creed is a phrase: “Dare Greatly.” Derived from a famous speech by President Theodore Roosevelt, “The Man in the Arena.” Great when he delivered it, I’m sure. In the commercial it sounds exactly like the overblown pontifications of a preening copywriter: a purple brand manifesto if ever I heard one. Written my share of them as well. You know what I’m talking about. Such mantras usually include a plethora of big seldom-used words like plethora. Adjectives are used as nouns and vice-versa. Old-time-y phrases. It’s all here in this Ode to trying and failing and trying some more, aka “daring greatly.”
I guess Cadillac has a new CMO, a German named Uwe Ellinghaus. (Say that three times fast.) “The new point of view for Cadillac is one that embodies the American spirit in a contemporary manner without using American cliches,” Mr. Ellinghaus said.
Whatever you say, Uwe.
An uber-German selling the quintessential American car is both discomforting and ironic. But ours is a free country. If Cadillac wants to throw money at a Bavarian in order to reinvent Cadillac for the 100th time that’s their prerogative.
Wozniak dared greatly to think different!
In fairness, the consumer only sees the work. So what of it? The campaign premiered on the Academy Awards, a total of four commercials including the above-mentioned anthem. The other spots depict specific people who dared to do something great and (of course) became famous for it. Cadillac’s step-up line at the end: How dare a 112 year-old carmaker reinvent itself?
Thin argument but at least I get it. More so than the better-to-have-failed opus we get in the anthem. Still, the question comes off a tad disingenuous because, as was stated, the brand has been perpetually trying to re-start for over a decade. Like a car trying to turn over on a winter’s morning: It’s…It’s…It’s…Damn! But let’s give them the benefit of the doubt.
However, I am weary of American history co-opted to sell products. It feels tired and cynical when it should be bold and fresh. W&K’s image campaign for Levis did all of this…and so much better.
Now that’s Americana made fresh…
Expectedly, the film is pretty but the subject matter is mundane: New York City streets, iconic high rises, carefully chosen “real” people. Honestly, it’s no more than a serioused-up version of SNL’s iconic opening signature film. And they were there first. Outside of a couple shots I’m not inspired by any of it. In the end I can literally feel the advertising agency behind these commercials.
I miss Led Zeppelin.
Author’s Note: As I was writing this I got pinged from my old creative partner, Mike Coffin regarding a blog post he’d just written on the same topic! it is here:
In a previous post I wrote about my longtime reluctance to criticize new ad campaigns. Obviously, that misgiving does not apply when it comes to praising them. If I see something I like I’m delighted to write about it here.
And so I have. And so I will.
For the last couple of weeks I’ve been captivated by the ad campaign promoting the FX network’s upcoming penultimate Simpsons’ marathon, where they will be running every Simpsons episode ever made, all 552 of them, from start to finish. Fittingly, the theme: Every. Simpsons. Ever.
Though all the campaign pieces are funny, without doubt the anthem commercial is the hero. It brilliantly imagines a world decimated by some unspecified apocalypse; each vignette beautifully depicting the ruins. The detail within these tableaus is stunning, as good as any you’ll find in a big budget genre feature. Better than many, actually. In each scene is also a cleverly situated television set and on that TV a classic bit from a Simpsons’ episode is playing. Oblivious to the spreadingdecay, someone (or thing) is watching. The takeaway: while the world may be ending who gives a crap there’s a Simpson’s marathon!
It’s just the kind of humor we have enjoyed from the show itself: biting, dark but somehow always joyful. (I won’t rhapsodize about the Simpsons here. Suffice to say it isn’t the longest running sitcom in television history for sucking.)
As in every Simpsons ever it is the details of this commercial that truly make it spectacular. When Mr. Burns utters, “Release the hounds!” we witness a group of feral dogs running up the street. Upon seeing Lisa’s crooked teeth for the first time her dentist screams “There is no God!” The transpiring Apocalypse backs him up. While Homer insanely yells for his burrito two deer idly graze outside the TV shop. Against a black screen a big yellow super comes up: “WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE.” Homer pops up emitting a prolonged girlish scream.
FX knows their target too well. For this is every fanboys’ wet dream of a TV commercial. Dystopia and The Simpsons. I can hear Comic Book Man now: “Best. Spot. Ever.”
Second commercial pretty stellar as well…
November 1, 2013
But you’re rich, bitch!
In keeping with the start of the NBA season a spate of new TV commercials just dropped featuring two of the sport’s biggest stars: Derrick Rose of the Chicago Bulls and the Miami Heat’s LeBron James. D-Rose shills for Adidas while King James is rocking the new Galaxy phone from Samsung.
From the talent to the products, these are glossy, high-end films in every sense of the word.
Yet, I don’t love them. It’s hard to put my finger on why. Yes, I’m not a particularly huge NBA fan (even if I grew up during the Jordan-era Bulls), nor am I between 18 and 34 years old. Goes without saying I’m not African American. But given I make ads for a living I doubt my opinion about these campaigns has anything to do with targeting and demographics. I’m mostly impervious to that.
What bugs me about these commercials is the tension I feel as both athletes wrestle with being real and ridiculously rich and famous at the same time.
Rose’s script literally is about that tension. He says: “You can take away the money, the cars, etc…” Because Rose is such a likable young man (soft spoken, team player, loves his city, his mom, etc) he almost pulls it off. But in the end the spot comes dangerously close to coming off as a humblebrag on his part. ‘Even though I’ve got all this stuff none of it matters.’ Easy for you to say, D. I get that he’s talking about the life. I just can’t relate. Moreover, I don’t want to.
The issue I have with LeBron’s work is more conspicuous because he’s more conspicuous. James is by far the biggest star in the NBA, delivering back-to-back championships for his team in South Beach. With more undoubtedly to come. In addition to his gaudy stats, he is also infamous for his hubris-laden “decision” regarding where he was “taking his talents” and where he was taking them from.
For a lot of people, LeBron James is still an anti-hero, one of those people you love to hate. Those people should probably get a life. Still, there is something preternatural about LeBron’s aura. And he made it that way. Which is why I just don’t buy this dad-in-the-driveway act. Are we to believe LeBron has a hoop over his garage? Come on. You know as well as I do he has a whole goddam basketball court in his house. Maybe two. While playing a regular guy chilling with his family may bring smiles to LeBron’s PR machine, I’m not there.
Don’t get me wrong. I think LeBron James has an awesome TV presence. When he’s King James or the old school version of himself or any number of other tongue-in-cheek characters he’s played so effectively. But an Everyman?
Certain stars are just too f—king big. We may adore them. We may aspire to be them. But we can’t relate to them as neighbors or drinking buddies or anything so mundane. Like Tom Brady, Bono or Lady GaGa some stars should just stay stars. When they act “as if” it kind of pisses me off. Just saying…
October 8, 2013
Talk to the hand…
Visualizing their age-old theme line, “The Midas Touch,” the Martin Agency has created a talking, disembodied hand to shill for the franchise auto repair shop, a mish mash of brand equities.
For some reason, the golden, floating hand is also a tad surly. Perhaps its creators were desperate to avoid comparisons to Hamburger Helper’s talking oven mitt. News flash. A talking hand is a talking hand, regardless of attitude and color. And for what it’s worth, Hamburger Helper was there first. In any event, choosing one isn’t exactly Sophie’s Choice. You can lock both these critters in the glove compartment. Then run the car off a cliff…
I’m not against old-school advertising. Or even critters. For example, I’ve got a soft spot for the Pillsbury Doughboy. Creating memorable characters based on a brand’s attributes works. Unfortunately, it often doesn’t. Especially in the 21st century. I’m afraid the “Midas Touch” (or whatever they’re calling it/him) has short lifespan written all over. There’s only so much concept to work with.
In the two spots I’ve seen the hand dodges a few bad jokes (“high five” and “an arm and a leg”) while reminding some rube about “getting that Midas touch” down at the corner. Yikes, sounds like a creepy come on. Hand job, anyone?
Happily, the disembodied hand works better on the Midas website. Facing out, it kind of stops you in your tracks. There, helping hand puns set up the simple engagements one would expect from a car repair site. Appointments. Locations. Et-cetera. The site is crisp and clean and, well, the hand kind of works. So thumbs up. (Get it?)
Their Facebook is a push. When I visited it the top bit was a knock-knock joke setting up a view screen for the commercial. Um, I guess so. What else are you going to do with a disembodied hand… on Facebook? Needless to say, I did not adventure to Twitter. I just don’t feel the need to follow a car repair site, let alone some bored copywriters fronting for an advertising spokesthing.