So…

Yesterday, I blogged about the Shiny Horny Suds debacle. Lots of debate offline too.Words like misogynist thrown about.

Just another Wednesday night at my house really.

Anyway…

Now the shoe is on the other foot. Witness the Orangina (unfortunate but appropriate name) ad that unapologetically depicts the gross sexual objectification of a rather unfortunate-looking fat man…or something…

You laughed didn’t you? Or you at least smirked. But other than that, the only other sound you’ll hear around this spot is the deafening silence of no-one giving a damn.

And rightly so.

Because there’s nothing funnier than humiliating a fat guy down to his tighty-whities, right? Right? Ok. Maybe watching a toddler running into a door is marginally funnier but then this is a close second.

I’m willing to bet this ad will run its full schedule…because that’s how  it should be…unless the same bloody Mother Grundies who removed the Golliwogs from Noddy, who lightened Aladdin’s skin, who change Fanny to Frannie in “The Magic Farwaray Tree” and who declared the Ninja Turtles as satanic, get their way…

And then we’re all royally buggered.

Apparently, this detergent ad from the States had feminists frothing at the mouth (See what I did there?). Something about it being sexist and even encouraging rape or some such. Anyway, the ad has been pulled. Here’s what all the brouhaha is over:

I don’t see it but then I am technically a rapist according to Marilyn French (No. I didn’t hyperlink it. Google her, dammit. Do something for yourself for a change. Sheesh) by virtue of my Y-chromosome and my heterosexuality.

At any rate, I think this ad would have been funnier if it was a guy in the shower instead. And the bubbles were voiced by women.

Wait. Does that statement make me sexist?

Why do we insist on using athletes to front products they’re clearly not interested in or relevant to? Yes, I ended that sentence on a prepostition. Shut up.

I’m talking about Herschel Gibbs fronting KFC, when he should be the spokesman for some alcohol brand. Or The Beast trying to convince us that he likes a certain brand of razor. Or Bryan Habana asking you to give him five for germ-free hands.

Seriously. Who buys this crap? They’re not even coached properly (see what I did there?) when it comes to delivering the pitch. And that’s because they don’t care! They’re just there for the cheque.

And that’s where the real problem lies: at what point do these guys decide that their integrity is up for sale? Yes, sport is a business, but damn it, isn’t there any decency or self-respect left anywhere?

Don’t believe me? Then check out this piece of celluloid horror, scraped from the bottom of the barrel (the outside, not the inside):

It’s just embarrassing. John Smit is an affable bloke. I’ve seen the press interviews and even post-match, he’s more articulate than his meat-puppet performance in that ad. And just to put it into real perspective, that’s the guy who captains our national rugby team, punting a bloody cellular reseller. Sad really, when you consider how many kids identify him as a role-model.

As I acknowledged before, sport is a business. So by all means, punt away. But for the love of yellow chickens, could you at least do it with some integrity? Put your name on something you believe in as opposed to something that pays your mortgage. It worked for Michael Jordan, Shaq, Beckham…

So what’s the cost of your integrity?

I’m all for lateral out-of-the-box* creative thinking. But where’s the point in being so damned clever that no-one can understand you?

5FM. It’s supposed to be edgy, urban, boundary-pushing radio and that’s the image they want to portray to the consumer.

“We are very excited about our new campaign, which was almost entirely created with the talents of over 25 of our country’s top young animators. This world-class production effectively illustrates the effect 5FM has on the lifestyles of our national youth audience: we are here to amplify your world and provide the soundtrack to the revolution that is 21st century lifestyle beyond.” 5FM**

Bollocks.

This whole campaign is a self-pleasuring session of the Nth degree. I can’t relate to the ads. Hell, I can’t even find a link between them and the station.

Exhibit A: “Walk the dog”. One (not 5) 50ft woman strolling through the city centre with a 30ft tarantula on a leash. Here you go:

Exhibit B: “DJ”. An octopus (that has 8 arms, not 5) spins discs and mixes audio.

Exhibit C: “Kiss” Two (still not 5) prepubescent emo-brats get over themselves long enough to swap spit and the city explodes.

Exhibit D: “Clubbing”. 4 (again not 5) rejects from a Tokyo Drift casting session arrive at a meat-warehouse nightclub (a la Blade) and then morph into wolves ready to snack on sheep.

Don’t get me wrong. Visually, the spots are eye-catching and definitely something new. And yes, the allegories in the last 2 are slightly more obvious than the first couple. But the problem remains that there’s no link between them and the brand. None.

Usually I wouldn’t blame 5FM, but after reading that quote above, it seems everyone just went into a board meeting, crunched down some crazy pills and then took turns fellating each other. It’s Emperor’s New Clothes Syndrome: where no-one in the creative meeting undestood what the hell was going on, but the key decision-maker (who didn’t want to look like a doos) signed off on it and everyone wanted to keep their paycheques so they just went along with it.

In stark contrast (and just to prove my point) was the latest offering from Metro FM (no, I don’t work for them). A simple, understated spot playing music from the station with visuals illustrating the bond that listeners over the course of generations have felt with Metro FM. No fancy CGI, no cooler-than-thou edginess…just a clear simple message of what the station stands for and what you can expect as a listener.

So why did 5FM run the campaign? I think it was just to give hormone-riddled middle-class teenage bastards yet another opportunity to spout off about how they’re so hard-done by.

[SCENE: Dad and son sitting in the lounge watching TV. One of 5FM's ads flights on the screen. After it's done, there's a pause.]

DAD: What the hell was that?

SON: That’s exactly it! You don’t understand me Dad! You never have! It’s not about “what it is”, but “how it makes you feel”. But you don’t care about that. You don’t care about how I feel. You never care about my needs dad. I asked for Nintendo Wii and you got me a PS3. A PS3! I can’t play Dynamite Racing Bitches 4 on a PS3 dad! And you still haven’t replaced the plasma LCD in my room. I asked for a 120 inch plasma. Not a 118 inch plasma! So my friends don’t come around to visit anymore. I’m too ashamed to Facebook because my MacBook is last month’s model. I’m not earning any money dad! I can’t afford these shiny things. Between school and parties and my tik habit and getting drunk at the mall on the sly and having unprotected sex in the toilets, I don’t have the time to get a job! But you don’t understand at all! You just judge me because you don’t understand my music or my friends or the fact that I wear black all the time and cut myself for no real reason other than to get attention. I want to go to therapy like the other kids, dad. I want prozac and lithium and ritalin. I want…

[Dad leans over and gently but forcefully snaps his son's neck. He whips out a set of cutlery and hums as he slices the kid into bite-size pieces]

DAD: [mouth is full] You just got owned, bitch.

<ENDS>

Thanks to Roy Blumenthal for reminding about this post. I wrote it when the campaign first launched. Nice to see that the opinions are still shared.

*Hate that term. It’s up there with the incorrect use of “synergy” and “whereby”.

** http://blackgingervfx.blogspot.com/2007/11/visual-effects-to-power-of-5_1327.html

It didn’t take long at all. Nando’s has stepped up and said out loud what we’ve all been thinking…

Yup. That’s about right…

A LITTLE SOMETHING EXTRA: as P rightly pointed out in the comments below, Windhoek got there first. So after a little Googling, I found this:

Thanks for the heads up, Shawty…

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