Automotive Commercials

Everybody loves a car advert, and having moved to San Antonio, Texas, I seem to see quite a lot of them. Here are my ten favourites. Readers of a more down to earth disposition are advised that what follows may contain traces of sarcasm.

That Bloke out of Pitch Black.
It's funny how whenever some young gentleman with an unusually small penis attempts to compensate for his deficiency by noisily passing us on the highway at speeds in excess of two-hundred miles per hour, the vehicle is almost always a Dodge. This correlation is reflected in Dodge's television advertising which, up until recently, featured actors portraying the Dodge brothers as a couple of sneering depression-era shitheads mysteriously transported to the present day in order to pull wheelies in contemporary motor vehicles; but these two have been replaced by Vin Diesel, squinting from behind the wheel and providing a voiceover proposing terms by which we might refer to him and his high-speed pals as we express our inevitable disapproval, because we be haters. Call us irresponsible, he growls, call us shitheads - or words to that effect because I can't remember what he actually says and I didn't bother to write it down. It doesn't matter, he concludes, because we can't hear you, and the reason he can't hear the musty condemnation of us disapproving suit-wearing cuboid squares is because his mighty Dodge engine is revving so loud as he throbs along at a million miles an hour like a super sex penis of manly power. Of course, the reason he's saying all of this is because a rich man in a suit is paying for his oral performance as though Vin were a common prostitute; and I have it on good authority that Vin Diesel was dressed as Shirley Temple when recording his voiceover in the studio, and he even had a huge lollipop with a red and white spiral design, and the engineer had to keep coming into the booth to take the lollipop away because Vin kept knocking it against the microphone and spoiling the take. I also have it on good authority that Vin Diesel started crying each time he had his lolly taken from him. I'd happily tell him all of this to his face, but of course I know he wouldn't be able to hear me.

Grinning Family.
Ancira is a local dealership. I think they specialise in Nissan, unless that's just the one showroom. I'm not really sure how it works and I don't care enough to find out. Anyway, being a local car dealership for local people, Ancira have wisely chosen to make their own television adverts featuring themselves, April and her father, Ernesto. For some reason I was under the impression that the gentleman's name was Jeff and that he was her husband, so let's pray to God that I'm either thinking of a different advert or getting my wires crossed. I suspect Ancira advertising may place emphasis on the great savings to be had when you buy a truck, or at least a vehicle of some description - based on this being the theme of most automotive advertising rather than anything I remember watching. The aforementioned savings, if they are indeed a selling point, are probably made by not bothering with either actors, acting lessons, or anything you could reasonably call a script. Instead we are treated to a series of stilted, implausible exchanges between members of the Ancira family as they discuss the great savings to be had when you buy a truck, or at least a vehicle of some description, punctuated with awkward pauses and the kind of grinning I haven't seen since I was a regular subscriber to Fiesta, a gentleman's interest publication which encouraged photographic contributions from its readership. The aforementioned selection of Ancira family members also includes the children, who seem a bit young to be in cheesy television adverts, although I'm sure they had a blast filming the thing on someone's phone. I'm in my fifties but I still recall many aspects of childhood, and I know for sure that I didn't give two shits about savings made on automotive purchases.

Timely Fuck-up Preventative.
A slightly drippy woman has picked up a specially commissioned cake for her friend's baby shower. The word girl is spelled out on the top of the cake because, being a baby, there is not yet anything else which differentiates the guest of honour from others of its generation. A cake baked, for example, so as to resemble the original 1959 edition of William Burroughs' Naked Lunch would be potentially confusing. Another friend of the drippy woman sees the cake and points out that it has incorrectly identified the child's gender, because the child is male; and any righteous sword bearer of internet justice who can't tell the difference between what I've just written and Jerry Falwell blaming earthquakes on homosexuality can go fuck themselves.

'Oh shit!' exclaims the slightly drippy woman, or words to that effect. In all the excitement of laughing at jokes cracked by her salad during lunch, she must have forgotten the kid's gender, or else the baby was produced by a friend in whom she has very little emotional investment.

'Buick has an SUV for that,' the voice-over helpfully announces, implying that the vehicle in question - a Buick Encore - has been specifically designed to cater for the needs of those wishing to make last minute culinary amendments; and so our woman swerves through traffic, even turning corners and that sort of thing, returning promptly to the cake shop, thus preventing a misgenderisation disaster which they would have been talking about for years to come.

I had to conduct some research before writing this account, possibly because, being from England, I was previously unfamiliar with the term baby shower, and my primary association with the name Buick was as an onomatopoeic sound effect signifying emesis in an issue of the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers comic. All I took from this advertisement is therefore that women tend to forget the gender identity of children fairly easily, and that had the slightly drippy woman been driving any other vehicle, she would have been fucked.

Singing Boss.
I had a look on Google utilising car advert like a boss as my search term, and found that the commercial I'm looking for is not yet on YouTube but probably refers to the Acura RDX, which is apparently a type of car. I was looking for the current television advertisement for the Acura RDX, which I've seen on many, many occasions, and certainly enough to inspire a mad dash for the mute button on the remote each time it comes on; and yet so far as I am aware, I've never actually encountered the name Acura before just now, even though clearly I have; which at least means that all that stuff about how advertising works is bollocks invented by wankers who would very much like to continue getting paid for producing something of no value. Anyway, I found the 2015 Acura RDX commercial, and the similarities were sufficient to suggest my being on the right track. I don't actually remember much about the current advert beyond that it's annoying and makes use of the phrase like a boss, possibly suggesting that we, the viewers, should either drive like a boss, live our lives like a boss, or both. Aside from the point that bosses often prefer to be ferried around by a chauffeur, my principle objection stems from the fact that anyone who ever used the term like a boss in any context whatsoever is a fucking twat, so the suggestion that I might aspire to do something like a boss is annoying.

For what it may be worth, the 2015 advert features a woman driving her Acura RDX like a boss whilst singing along to Rapture by Blondie, and she's so lost in the moment that she misses a phone call from some important looking men in an office, who accordingly pull the faces which squares pull when confronted with reckless spontaneity. Amongst the usual YouTube comments about how it's the funniest thing someone or other has ever seen, we inevitably find:

Dumb commercial. That woman probably wasn't even born when the song was first out. She probably had no clue about it until she got hired to do the commercial. She sings like she is clueless.

Amongst the many retorts responding to the above as part of what expands into a truly Pinteresque debate, we find:

I and everyone here are now questioning your sexuality. You're either gay or women confuse and frighten you. More likely, though, it's your disgusting pot belly, neck beard and extra nipples that have you lashing out at women with your insecure cheap shots. These are just a few of my theories that are most certainly, all true.

So there you have it, whatever it may be.

Words for Wow.
Here's how different people express themselves when they first set eyes on the new Spunkenwangel Motherfucker, growls the voice, although I'm paraphrasing and I can't remember which truck is being advertised so I've just made one up. I've a feeling it might be some General Motors leviathan, although it could just as easily be a Chevrolet. I don't care enough to be able to retain information of such minor consequence. Anyway, the advertiser has rounded up a bunch of real dudes who definitely aren't actors from assorted libraries, opera houses, and university philosophy departments, and is showing them a new kind of truck in order to gauge their reactions. The point is that we all express ourselves in different ways, but each recorded report conveys the same semiotic information, specifically that the truck in question is the most amazing thing these guys have ever seen, so you should probably think about getting one. One of the men says, 'yes, sir,' presumably as short form for yes, sir - that is indeed an impressive truck. I think another one mumbles something like, that sure is an awesome truck. It's disappointing in so much as that the advert seems to promise grown men literally shitting themselves and going mad simply because of how amazing the truck is, or at least just one of the fuckers expressing something a little stronger than a general admission of the brisket having tasted pretty good this evening. Maybe they were distracted, still puzzling over Fermat's last theorum or what Jean Genet had to say about morality in Our Lady of the Flowers. That must have been it.

White Supremacist Dad Fail.
We see two dads. Both are loading up their cars with materials their respective daughters will need later that day. They are taking their respective daughters to play football, or some kind of sport requiring that one turn up with a whole load of kit. The respective daughters stand watching but offer no assistance, despite being twelve or possibly thirteen years of age and able bodied. The dad who bought the Honda is able to load his car without incident. The dad who foolishly drives some other brand of motor vehicle is meanwhile engaged in a ludicrous dance, hopping as he struggles to open a rear door with his foot, arms failing to contain all the equipment he is carrying. Balls, tennis rackets, oars, and self-inflating life rafts spill comedically from his grasp, he falls over, and probably quacks his pants too, although we don't actually get to see that detail. His daughter looks on with the faint sneer of a monocled Nazi officer, wishing her father had bought a fucking Honda and wondering whether she might have been adopted; or possibly she just looks a bit disappointed. I don't really remember. The thing I couldn't help but notice about this particular advertisement is that the Honda family are white whilst the hilarious loser clown family appear to be African-American.

That's kind of a troubling message you're sending out there, Honda. It's probably a good job our president hasn't yet seen the advert, because he'll do his bollocks when he does. He really hates that sort of thing. You can ask anyone.

Hominid Sales Unit Loves Her Job.
Once again I've forgotten the make of car advertised, so let's say it's a Sturmey Archer. This series of commercials visits the Sturmey Archer showroom, particularly focussing on the work of a particular saleswoman whose well-ordered personality and generic dispensation of moderately quirky humour seems to foreshadow Janet, the humanoid artificial intelligence from The Good Place. As with much contemporary entertainment, her humour mostly takes the form of well-known phrases of which the humorous element is simply their repetition - I hate when that happens, and that sort of thing - delivered so as to effect safely eccentric ideas such as that you don't have to be crazy to work here, but it helps! In one commercial, the showroom is surrounded by a horde of customers so numerous as to squash those at the front against the glass, somewhat suggesting a zombie apocalypse. We hear a low moan from the crowd as hands begin to beat against the glass, seeking entrance and subsequent access to great savings. An ordinary person would find this alarming, and yet Janet - as I'll call her - smiles beatifically because she understands that these people are keen to snap up a bargain Sturmey Archer vehicle in the sale.

'I love that sound,' she says, as though referring to some angelic choir.

It's a fucking good job I wasn't drinking coffee.

Bewildering Celebrity Hamster.
I already discussed this one under the heading of Grinning Fool Plays Air Drums back here, since which, new data has emerged. World Car is a local dealership in the general vein of Ancira, as described above, and so their commercials similarly have the look of having been made on someone's phone. Here's my earlier account of the stars of the commercial:

She is small and Hispanic, and he physically suggests a scenario in which aliens discovered the ruined body of Hoss from NBC's Bonanza on some distant asteroid and attempted to surgically restore him but, lacking any understanding of human physiology, found themselves obliged to use an Alfred E. Neuman heavy issue of Mad magazine for reference. Released back into the wild in the general vicinity of San Antonio, he was cruelly incapacitated by a thorn which became embedded in his mighty paw, but luckily the Latina woman happened to be passing and they've been faithful friends ever since.

This was written when I believed these two individuals to be employees, or perhaps even the owners of World Car, because this at least explains what they're doing in the advertisement. However, I recently learned that the large gentleman with the hamster cheeks is actually a local television celebrity of some description. In other words, these two have actually been paid to lend their own particular charismatic magic to the brand image of World Car. I'm sure they're wonderful people, especially if either of them happen to be reading this, but fucking hell...

Noel Edmonds' Stacked Deck.

He looks a bit like Noel Edmonds smoothly reimagined for the Hollywood retelling of his life, a little more handsome, tidier beard and so on; and he stands in a field with trucks. He has an audience, men and women with their children, but he's specifically addressing the children. 'Adolf Hitler used to drive Jews and homosexuals to the gas chamber in a Ford,' he explains - or words to that effect - 'so which truck do you think Daddy should buy? Do you think he would be wise to buy a nice award-winning Chevy Silverado, or do you think he should buy the Ford regardless because you're a Nazi-sympathiser and a fucking tool?'

There are other Chevy adverts in which Noel Edmonds 2.0 similarly puts loaded questions to members of the general public. They're mostly variations on a theme, and this one seems to be the most annoying. There's one in which we're told that members of the general public who are definitely not actors were so awestruck by the advertised truck as to be lost for words, followed by footage of the same group clambering all over the truck in question whilst exclaiming yes, sir, or now that's what I be talkin' 'bout, amongst other cliches; so it seems they weren't actually lost for words at all, not even figuratively speaking.

Never Confused.
Ram trucks - which I refuse to render as RAM in case it generates a thermonuclear quotient of testosterone - are made by Chrysler, according to Wikipedia, and they're somehow related to Dodge, which figures. I assumed they were just General Motors with a different logo, which just goes to show how much I know. Ludicrously massive trucks resembling a Claes Oldenburg version of a Tonka toy, complete with silicon boob-job tyres, are fairly popular in Texas so I see a lot of them. They're all more or less the same thing, and there's no real need for you to drive one unless you're directly involved in stock, rodeo, lawn care, or agriculture. So if you're a dentist driving one of those things, the rest of us are usually making jokes about how you probably have a fairly small penis, hence the overcompensation; and we've been making those jokes for fucking years now, just not to your face.

Ram's macho advertising campaign only underscores this possibility, and to the point that all those gravel-voiced cowboys just off-roadin' an' a fishin' an' a huntin' an' a pullin' out the ol' tree stump seem positively homoerotic, so much so that even I'm a bit turned on, and I was never confused. The latest advert features a few ladies ruggedly hanging around as the men grunt and squeeze the rubber grips of their galvanised metal tools, but they're not fooling anyone.