Guess it's time for the Doritos Crash the Super Bowl thing again. And along with that, the continuous perpetration of man (the species) as idiotic imbeciles. To be clear, we're not talking about the idiocy and stupidity of this particular ad's creators. Not at all. Rather the supremely idiotic behavior displayed by one of the characters in the ad.
Didn't you know? What? You didn't? Well let us let you in on a little secret. If you want to have hot passionate sex with that hunk you've been drooling over, ladies, all you have to do is slap on some Gucci Guilty and the man of your dreams will miraculous appear and ravage you to completion.
Actually, that's a lie. Why? Because it was in a commercial. No. In the real world, men don't need much motivation at all when it comes to that particular activity. You barely have to smile and the guy already wants to hop on. But this is Gucci we're taking about so that line of thinking is a bit crass here.
The YouTube comments are the best thing about this new commercial touting the Kindle's ability to supposedly read more easily in direct sunlight. As a man struggles to read through the glare on his iPad, a woman (hot, naturally) reads her Kindle with ease. And, much like a detergent commercial where people speak in unnatural ad-isms, the woman says, "It's a Kindle. $139. I actually paid more for these sunglasses."
The commenters see right through the sham, though. One writes, "'Excuse me, why can't I read this, in this light?' 'Sir, it's your iPad, it's full brightness is turned down for this commercial.' 'Kindle also won't tell you that in an opposite situation, the iPad will read books in the dark, the Kindle won't. How's that for equal?'"
Another writes, "Girl says 'I spent $150 dollars on sunglasses.' Guy hears 'I am high maintenance and will bleed your wallet dry and cheat on you.' The all new Kindle, the rich bitch sensation."
And a third sums up the idiocy of it all writing, "I just bought a Kindle, and I have an iPhone 4 and iPad (and several Apple computers). I've been reading on the iPad, but the Kindle is a lot better for it. I wouldn't try to surf the web on the Kindle though. They're different devices. If you have a chance to use them both you'll laugh that they even get compared."
Enough said. Stupid commercial.
Guy Ritchie, one of the first big name directors to make a commercial (BMW's The Hire), has teamed with his Sherlock Holmes star, Jude Law, and Slovak model Michaela Kocianova to create a five minute film for Dior Homme. OK, it's really a four minute film becasue the entire last minute is just movie-style credits.
The film is all noir and shit with Kocianova helping him dress as he speaks to another woman on the telephone. Or something like that. Who the hell knows. It's hard to tell who's talking to whom in this film or what the hell's going on. But, I guess it doesn't really matter because, well, nothing ever does when it comes to high fashion. The more logically whacked it is, the better.
Of course, none of this matters. The only important thing is that a mood is created, the product is shot and a mysterious overtone is created. And this film succeeds at all three.
After all, what else can a fragrance ad say? Buy our smelly shit and spray it on your neck? Nope. That's just way too boring.
In Australia it's sexist to ask your wife to clean the house. Oh wait, it's sexist everywhere because, as we all know, asking a stay-at-home mom to, well, stay at home and take care of the house is just wrong.
This My Local VIP cleaning service ad depicts a man returning from work to a house he thought would be cleaned while he was away. Well, apparently, mom was too busy with the kids and all that goes along with managing a household.
My Local VIP has received a few complaints from viewers who say the ad is sexist. Is it? Answer this question honestly. If you (male or female) returned home from work expecting the house to be clean (because you and your spouse talked about it getting cleaned in the morning before you went to work) and it was a mess, would you ask, "Honey, I thought you were going to clean the house today?" Or would you say, "Honey, you must have had a really tough day. It looks like the kids ran you ragged. why don't you go have a seat and I'll get you a glass of wine." Answer honestly.
Yea, we get it. Men like beer. No, men love beer. Men will do anything to get a beer. They will go to great lengths to make sure that beer is delivered to their mouths in a timely manner. And because they are so fanatical about getting a beer, they won't just walk to the fridge to grab one. That's just too pedestrian. No. They will build an elaborate delivery system just so yet another beer commercial can be made depicting them acting like a bunch of 12-year-old girls who just spotted Justin Bieber on the street.
OK. We are WIDE awake this morning thanks to Primitive Shoes and import car model Justene Jaro who, bless her soul (body?), has awoken us in ways that are, well, just not fit for publication...even on Adrants. Anyway, filth out of the way, curvaceous cutie Justene Jaro is featured in a two minute promotional video for the 20-year-old Nike Air Max 90.
As if we were watching a long form beer commercial of old or some cheesy auto parts ad in the back of Hot Rod magazine, Jaro's bulbous breasts burst forth, spilling from above and below the confines of her revealing top as it struggles to contain her pendulous pulchritude. Clad only in lingerie..and sometimes ripped Daisy Dukes...Jaro frolicks about on a bed, on a couch and on a set of stairs while wearing, playing with and, yes, seductively licking a pair of Nike Air Max 90s.
This is a post about smoking, which I wrote to precede my sunshiny Lions wrapup. It is randomly scattered with pictures of the events and people referred to, in part for context, but also so you don't have to scroll through all the "fun" shots without perspective.
In advertising, we pick up a lot of habits - "creative" habits, mostly - that we occasionally are and aren't proud of, depending on our mood and who's looking. The Cannes Lions becomes a magnifier of all those habits: there, trapped in paradise for a week, people don't just drink until 5 in the morning; they often smoke as if all the weight of the world depends on it.
"Last night I knew it was time to go home because I started chainsmoking," complained Shannon Stephaniuk of Glossy. "I hate smoking more than anything else in the world!"
I suppose I believe her. I've never seen Shannon pick up a cigarette, not once, and I smoke a great deal, which usually outs the casual smokers in party atmospheres.
Anyway, this Cannes phenomenon leads to a lot of semi-casual conversation about why we all started smoking in the first place, which naturally drifts over to quitting and efforts to get there.
This is why I started smoking (in earnest, not counting the flirtation I had in college when my best friend gave me a pack of Vanilla Dreams for my 18th birthday): to eke a promotion out of a boss who only discussed "the future" with his subordinates during smoke breaks. I was 19, maybe 20.
"You know what Gabriel Garcia Marquez did to quit?" began Draftfcb ECD Mark Fiddes, rather grandly, at a beachside luncheon for production firm Mad Cow. "Gabriel Garcia Marquez buried his last packet of cigarettes. Big mound. It was something he could walk by and look at every day."
"That's how he quit?" I asked incredulously. Garcia Marquez was a heavy smoker - six packs a day at worst, I think.
"That's how," Mark said smugly.
Last week, before all the Cannes fun and games were over, I scored an interview with ECD Richard Gorodecky of Amsterdam Worldwide (@amsterdamww).
You remember AW as the agency that did the Tansu shoe for Onitsuka Tigers, which won Design Gold at Cannes Lions in the Corporate/Brand Identity category.
Some background: this giant shoe is composed of multiple cupboards and openings in the Japanese Tansu style. Users that are able to unlock the compartments get to keep what's inside. The agency also made a digital version with revelations that include product information and free stuff.
A little context on this interview: he, Kerrie Finch and I took seats on the terrace of the Majestic. We made small-talk and every once in awhile they'd randomly mention suckling pig.
"I don't get this reference," I said after about the eighth time.
"Let me explain," Kerrie said. "You know that question, 'Is TV the new hearth'? We were saying earlier that it can't be the new hearth because you can't roast a suckling pig on it."
This is, by far, the worst car commercial brand partnership ever. Suburban yuppie-mobile Volvo and teen/tween sensation Twilight Eclipse. Yea. Seriously. It's as if someone placed a Jack and Jill Went over the Hill soundtrack on top of a Rob Zombie movie. Yea, it's that's odd.
OK, so yea, the Twilight character's parents might drive a Volvo but just watch this commercial and marvel at how bad the pairing is. Actually, it's the comparison between raging hormonal desire, lust, love...and a piece of metal. OK, so yea, we equate emotion to automobiles all the time but just watch this ad and watch how bad the pairing is. Yea, we wrote that twice. Because this commercial is twice as bad as any car commercial we've seen in a long time.
We blame Arnold, EuroRSCG 4D.