I’m not sure the Transformers commercials for GM cars is working like they planned, unless the goal was to leave me terrified of climbing into a 2009 Chevy Camaro for fear it would turn into a city-trashing behemoth with me still in it.
That wasn’t the message? It’s the one I got.
Many commercials seem oblivious to what viewers take away, relying on cuteness or snarkiness or just a love of weird CGI instead of, you know, promoting their product. I’d like to suggest that perhaps a bit more thought would be good.
What did I learn from the MasterCard commercial where zoo animals use an ailing zookeeper’s credit card to purchase helpful medicines and soothing refreshments for him while he remains sick at home? Why, I learned that identity theft is so easy with a MasterCard that a freaking elephant can use it and no one even asks for ID. Thanks MasterCard! Good to know!
Fortunately I already had and was pleased with Bright House before I saw the commercials claiming their services were so fantastic your annoying bathrobed relatives would never, ever leave, otherwise I’d be avoiding them (and my relatives) like the plague.
I refuse to try Orbit gum. Anything that will force me to shovel dirt in my mouth to somehow enhance my enjoyment is not something I feel comfortable with on my grocery list.
Apparently using NexTel walkie talkies will make me so efficient I will be encouraged to casually lean back in my chair, get caught by my boss, and promptly get fired. Shouldn’t there be some sort of warning label provided? “Smugness over use of this product may result in your ironic termination”? Watch those sales soar!
Axe Body Spray seems to be some sort of airborne roofie, causing women who would ordinarily cross the state to avoid you to suddenly start sniffing you uncontrollably, hanging over you, and moaning a lot. I’m seeing all sorts of legal problems down the road for this. What happens if you spray your dog with it? Or the bumper of a city bus?
These items just bother me, but the ominous Toyota Yaris downright scares me. Remember the ad where it smashed the cute little piggy bank and hoovered up the cash inside? What did that mean? Does the Yaris require regular injections of cash to prevent its murderous rampages, or does it just hate toys? Then, as I’m recovering from its brutal attack on the bank – or the gas pump spider or MP3 insect — it leaps up and violently reproduces asexually. Do I have any guarantee this will not happen on I-95? Maybe they’re trying to multiply fast enough to take on the Transformer cars in the upcoming auto-war, which will inevitably happen on a Sunday, Sunday, Sunday. Mechacar race war!
I will drive miles out of my way to avoid Burger King, for fear that a creepy monarch with a Mardi Gras head will leap out and engage me in some manner. Waking up next to him would not make me think of a hot and convenient breakfast. It would make me scrub my skin with Brillo for hours.
I also fear creepy and disturbingly cheerful whackjobs dancing at me for my Starburst Berries and Cream, creepy Asian guys challenging me to video games, a creepy William Shatner macking on helpless hotel clerks, the creepy guy with the guitar who wants to help me “enjoy” my Snickers, and the Vonage folks who want to hurl a box at my head.
Ever since Cocoa Puffs popularized hallucination as a desirable effect – even as a kid I felt sorry for Sonny as he fought against his addiction only to be brought down by those little preteen pushers — advertisers have tried to convince me that I should try their legal highs just because a marketing executive had a fever dream and turned it into an advertising campaign. Opening Skittles causes colorful, localized meteorological events. Using Ask.com will get me surrounded by dancers with, for some reason, Kato Kaelin’s face. iTunes brings me a colorful Paul McCartney singing a fairly bland tune. Going to Avis will result in agents who open the mouths and broadcast that they want to rock. (I dread this, because I just know if I go to rent a car I’ll start emitting Karen Carpenter and get stuck with a 30-year old Volvo) None of these events encourages me to go shopping as much as it encourages me to hide under my covers.
You know what? I want the Sasquatch to catch, kill, and eat the beef jerky guys. I really do. I want the people drinking Red Bull and floating about to get sucked into jet engines. I want Chad the AllTell guy to wake up and realize the whiny, nerdy friends in his circle need to be beaten up. I want the monster robot ninjas to catch the pink-haired esurance girl and pound her into anime jelly. And I’m not a violent person.
Why are people kicking trees in the Wendy’s commercial? I suppose it’s to symbolize uniformity, but I can’t say I really identify with the guy wearing the Pippi Longstocking hairdo and I don’t think Dave Thomas would have, either. You go on, dude, I’ll kick the tree for awhile.
Why is a loud duck a good spokesthing for an insurance company and not, say, a meal?
Commercials are supposed to encourage you to make good associations with their product, which makes me wonder why a flea treatment company wants me to associate their product with an annoying repetitive song (“Ain’t no bugs on me!”). I can’t tell you which product, because for personal protection I change channels the second I realize this song is about to start. For the same reason I can’t tell you what car dealers have the best deals, or which appliance company has the best scratch and dent specials. As soon as I hear shrieking you’ve lost me. This is why I watch all my shows on DVDs these days.
The Visa commercials where everyone is whirling in well-oiled, choreographed movements at bakeries or garden centers everything crashes to a halt because someone dared to pay with cash? That doesn’t make me want to get a Visa. It makes me want to start paying for everything in pennies.
People, please put a little thought into your commercials, because I’m putting in way too much.
Don’t forget the Quiznos commercial from a few years ago with Sponge Monkeys – yeah, I want to eat food advertised by mutant rodents (and the commercials caused my younger daughter to moan and cry until we changed channels) and “plug it in, plug it in” which makes my daughter yell back at the TV, “You plug it in!”
I’m still trying to figure out how the Trix rabbit got hooked on the stuff if he never gets to eat any…
That was worth the wait. Man, I can’t stop laughing !
What’s up with the crazy lady with the knee brace in the Appliance Direct commercials? I’ve been watching her for years (in Brevard, too) and she always has that thing on, with a short dress. Put some pants on for your commercial, for goodness’ sake!
What you fail to realize is these companies have completely achieved their goal by getting you to talk about their brand.
What about the Cingular commercial with the family texting. Am I all of a sudden going to be texting instead of talking. UGH.
Abrams’ company Bad Robot Productions. ,