Happy 4th, everybody! Oh man, I'm up way too late again. But before I go to bed, it's time to ruminate some more about that great short film festival in the sky: the commercials on TV. That Dello Joio bastard was right! I can't find his official website right now, so I'll save that for later.
Anywho, I don't know who nominates commercials for the Clio Awards, but I'd merely like to offer my suggestions for the nominees. Oh, so many great commercials. I'm reminded now of the latest Heineken ad where this dude brings this mini-Heineken keg and a sub sandwich to a party, and this other dude takes credit for the keg! Ah, it's high school all over again. Have we learned nothing from all those years of Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm? Or maybe it's time for an American Expulsion? What else? There was a freaky one I saw just a little while ago for Airwick Ultra featuring a mommy giraffe and her two baby boars. Maybe the South is coming out of the Dark Ages yet if they let this one pass. There was also another creepy animated Red Bull commercial, but with dogs. Apparently Red Bull is not just for humans anymore. God bless Capitalism! And I'm growing weary of the dropped call commercials for Cingular/At&t. Maybe it's just the NSA fucking with people. Have you ever considered that? Like those Enron guys saying "Burn baby burn!" Our surveillance people have a sense of humor too!
But really, my two favorite, Clio-worthy entries of late are: #2 - that dude who does the ad for the new Ford F-Series Super Duty, featured in the picture here. Oh sure, he's a far cry from the 'he's lying' guy of the 80s, but I fell in love with the way he tries to lower his voice and sound like David Puddy. (Incidentally, when's he gonna host SNL? I hope he never goes crazy like Kramer or Mel Gibson, he seems like a righteous dude and I dig his work. He was The Tick!) Oh you don't have to play coy with me, Ford F-Series Super Duty guy! I know you're fakin' it with that old voice trick!
But at #1 it's the latest Celebrex ad that places the blame squarely on you. And me. That's right, these pharmaceutical companies have hearts too, and they are broken, my friends. The profits must be plateauing, and how depressing a prospect is that? Where's the exponential profits of the go-go Microsoft 90s? What about all those Social Security-grubbing old people hopping the buses to Canada for the cheap generic meds? Where's the grandmotherly love they lavish so readily on their own families? Doesn't Dow and Glaxo-Smith Kline Beecham Proctolo get a hug too? But really, the best thing about the commercial is that the whole world is made up of disclaimers. Each line a disclaimer line. The bicycle made of pharma text. The dog, the grass, the house! I love it. Pregnant women shouldn't handle broken pieces of their tablets, that kind of thing. Is this commercial not the triumph of someone's lack of imagination?
Well, those are my nominees for now. But the year is long and far from over. Maybe we'll see the next Quizno's Singing Roadkill come along and take our collective breath away before Big Pharma does. 'night!
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