There's another kind of hearing impairment I associate with commercials, and that's tone-deafness. Take this excerpt from a letter to the editor by Kelly Temple I read in today's Idaho Statesman:
"The truth is, [Super Bowl commercials are] the same annoying drivel we barely tolerate the remaining 364 days a year."
Now, I tolerate all manner of ridiculousness in the Letters to the Editor section––its denizens wage a perpetual and fruitless war against abortion and socialism and whatever, and there simply isn't enough time or energy in the whole world to convince these people not to be idiots in public––but this kind of misconception will not stand. To even suggest that the most important day in advertising is no better than any other day in advertising reveals nothing short of tone-deafness.
Some of this blog's most popular posts are about advertisements, and I'm pretty passionate about television commercials, so I feel the need to offer a rebuttal to Ms. Temple.
America has the greatest and most magnificent culture of consumption the world has ever known. From food to energy to cleaning products, we buy more of just about everything more than anyone else. Over time that culture has developed a thicker skin than most to the traditional tricks advertisers use to persuade us to buy their products.
Admittedly, there's a lot of "drivel" out there, and it's axiomatic that a bad commercial will get more airtime than a good one. After all, why pay more to make a good commercial when you can make a bad one and spend the savings on more air time? These are the same advertising geniuses who believe the best way to reach their audience is to turn the volume up on their commercials.
There are also some fantastic ad campaigns that make us laugh, invent markets for things we never thought we'd need, or even stir our weary senses of patriotism. These campaigns are spearheaded by smart people who know how your mind works and know how to make it hum with excitement. Super Sunday is the day when all the best minds in advertising (and possibly the world) are on display. It's practically Christmas.
The Super Bowl is advertisers' Christmas
I think of Tabasco as analogous to a gateway drug. It opened the door to Cholula sauce and eventually the meth of hot sauces, Sriracha (or as I call it, "Hot Red Cock"). When this commercial aired, though, I thought Tabasco was about the hardest shit there was outside some Texas roadside barbecue pit. We watch as a fat, sweating hoosier douses a downright unappetizing slice of cheese pizza in hot sauce, then noisily chew and swallow. Everything about this commercial is muggy and undignified and disgusting, right up to the point that the mosquito explodes in a ball of flame.
That mosquito reversed the banality of the commercial in an instant. It's a gimmick that turned Tabasco from that hot sauce of choice at Denny's to the hot sauce that makes fireworks out of unsuspecting mosquitoes, and every good ad man knows that the ability to shift public perception of your product is a gift from the gods.
Detroit as the dying warhorse of American productivity
Certainly, some of the most memorable Super Bowl ads are funny, but there are others that pluck on the heartstrings. Detroit is the dying warhorse of American productivity: It has been in decline for years, and since the 2008 economic downturn, it has become the symbol for America's lost prosperity. It's fitting that the city's motto, Speramus Meliora, Resurgent Cineribus, means "We hope for better, it will arise from the ashes," since the city's resurgence will likely be symbolic of a renewed national focus on production, creativity, and export.
Eminem's Chrysler ad was a sharp and refreshing departure from everything we've come to expect from Super Bowl commercials. It's sleek, but relies on Detroit's grit for emotional impact. Imported cars have become so commonplace, the ad argues, that they've replaced domestic automobiles. It comes as a kind of shock that our own cars are reliable and classy.
When media critics dedicate articles to the best and worst Super Bowl commercials, they're paying homage to people who have been entrusted with hundreds of thousands of dollars by agencies to create the most show-stopping ads money can buy. Their only restraint is time, which means your average 30 second ad slot is jam-packed with as much production value and narratological brilliance as possible.
What's more, many Super Bowl parties I've been to are hosted by people who know nothing about football. They're people who open their homes to friends so they can enjoy the spectacle of one of America's most glitzy annual events and laugh at the funny commercials.
And your reaction is, "Wow, I can't believe you watch this drivel"?
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