Has anything changed in a week?  At least in Brandland?  Since the hubbub from the Super Bowl ads has subsided, what do we remember?  More importantly, do we care about any of it?

Two ads remain fresh and moving to me a week later, because they’ve found a place in my heart.  While both could be improved as pieces of advertising, they remain ingenious pieces of human truth that bear repeated viewing, and they offer lessons for others to emulate.

VW Ad: Textured Narratives


Yes, the VW Passat ad with the mini Darth Vader needs better brand/product registration.  But it lingers because it captures some important things wonderfully well:

1. People are multi-dimensional:

The little kid doesn’t just want super-powers.  S/he wants to be a badass.  Would it have been half as effective if the kid aspired to be Luke Skywalker or Superman?

Likewise, the dad is multi-textured: low-key, sweet and empowering.  He’s not a tedious Dumb Dad or his more recent incarnation, Reluctant but Excited Expectant Father.  He’s a more upscale Jim Halpert when Ceci’s about five.  He knows kids, and he’s been a kid.

2. We all crave magic in our lives:

I’m still waiting for my personal flying vehicle long-promised by The Jetsons., but I’d probably settle for a jetpack.  Star Wars brims with amazement as second-nature stuff.  With a remote starter, VW can put some everyday magic in your hand.  Who wouldn’t want a little bit of The Force in their life?

3. Borrowed interest with depth is more interesting:

VW paid a bundle for the rights to use Star Wars music and imagery no doubt, but it got a lot, too.  A little evil Dark Lord is charming, of course.  But VW also gets an entire chain of associations.  The dad would have been about the kid’s age when Star Wars came out in 1977.  There’s a subtle passing-of-the-torch here that we can recognize at some level.  He’s supporting his child in dreams he himself would have had at that age.  Cool, deep–and possibly unconscious on Deutsch’s and VW’s part, but let’s give them the credit.

Companies use celebrities as borrowed interest all the time to create aspirational figures.  They get our attention, and they make us want to be them, to want what they want.  VW gets our attention through iconic imagery and instantly recognizable music, and creates an aspirational figure to boot.  An Everydad/Everyhusband with a sexy eyebrow lift.  Will it sell Passats?  We don’t know yet, but I bet it will get a lot more families to consider a VW.

Winning Elements

By using characters and associations with depth and texture, and by tapping universal yearnings, VW has created something that does more than entertain.  It touches us subtly, without overblown sentimentality.  Its shortcomings are fixable.  Other ads have more information, better brand registration, yet they leave us fleetingly amused at best.  Most of us have plenty of access to information and entertainment in our lives, yet how often are we moved by something with a light touch of human grace?

In my next post later this week I’ll take on the other ad that still lingers, inspires and, yep, brings a tear to my eye every time I watch it.


For two days in a row my Boston Globe was wrapped in a plastic bag containing a sample and coupon for Advil Congestion Relief Formula.  And once again I’m reminded of Mo Udall.

The Arizona Congressman, also pro basketball player and two-time Presidential candidate, once quipped about his Congressional colleagues:

“Everything has been said, but not everyone has said it.”

The same is true of products far too often.  Everything has pretty much been said about cold- and congestion-formula analgesics, wouldn’t you think?  But apparently Advil hasn’t said it all yet.

Mind you, I really like Advil.  We use it regularly in our house, and I just bought a big bottle of the plain variety.  (But it took a while: tablets, caplets, gel-caplets, liqui-gels?  Not to mention: what size bottle?  Real Advil or house-brand generic?)

Advil may be genuinely adding something unique to the aisle, but how would I ever know?  Especially when they already have a Cold and Sinus formula.

The line extension arms race for the War of Inches on shelf space makes left-brain sense.  As Advil, Tylenol, Aleve, Excedrin, or private label, you want that marginal purchase, and you don’t want it to go to your competitor.  This happens in categories all the time, and I proudly launched many a line extension as a brand manager myself (though I like to think Unscented Dove was a small gift to the world in its day).

From a right-brain perspective, though, the on-shelf clutter becomes a mind-numbing chatter of things you’ve already heard a million times.  Like the floor of the House and Senate, with an endless parade of wordy folk eagerly reading their points into the record.  And how do we feel about them?  Do you want people to feel that way about you?

I’ll have more to say about product proliferation, and in the e-newsletter later this month I’ll say it in verse!  So please sign up for the e-newsletter.  Meanwhile, I’d like to hear your thoughts, so feel free to share your comments below.

It’s been at least 15 years since I’ve had to buy new glasses.  A happy contact lens person, I keep glasses around mostly for lazy mornings.   But I freshened my prescription recently and stepped out into the brave new (to me) world of eyewear.

It was, shall we say, eye-opening.

At the top: Sensible luxury

At a high-end store recommended by a stylish friend, I found exactly what you might expect from a top-of-the-line marketer.  This included  (surprise!) extremely expensive frames: maybe $400 for the cheapest.  Brand-wise, it was largely a mix of elite global fashion/accessory names like Prada and Tag Heuer along with eyewear-specific brands like Alain Mikli and Bellinger.  A boutique atmosphere, it offered ample but not overwhelming choice and emphasized personal attention and service.  Textbook marketing, and a very pleasant experience.

Elsewhere: Brand bordello

The rest of the market appears to be tawdry licensing in extremis.  Where else might you find side-by-side the brands Sophia Loren and Ducks Unlimited?  Catherine Deneuve and Seiko?  Dolce & Gabbana and Levi’s?  Versace and New Balance?  I’m not sure I’ve ever seen in one place such a strange and slightly desperate-seeming brew of brands as I did at both local (Cambridge Eye Doctors) and national retailers (ForEyes, Costco).

The left-brain marketer in me says: this is an opportunity area!  Trends as disparate as aging boomers, geek chic and personal expression/branding would make eyewear a growing market.  Licensing creates opportunities for brands of all kinds: has-been brands can prolong their franchise a little longer at low cost, while robust brands can gain additional revenue and share-of-customer.

The right-brain marketer in me says: Ouch! What a horrible thing to do to a brand. This is a tacky, wacky slugfest at best.  If ever there were a category with negligible opportunities for differentiation, this is it. Not to mention consumer overwhelm.  Acres of nearly identical merchandise tarted up with an indiscriminate brand name.  What’s next: Dunkin’ Donuts? Broyhill? Why not Verizon Wireless?  At least their iconic can-you-hear-me-now ad guy is strongly associated with glasses!

Meanwhile, the potential glasses buyer in me says: yeesh.

I’m torn between just grabbing some $79 special and fleeing to the expensive arms of the elite boutique.  Do I want value?  Do I want quality, service and the potential for self-expression?  Do I dare to eat a peach?  Mostly, I want out: I don’t want so many slightly debauched faux choices, or for this to be so complicated.  I think my new prescription is good for two years: if I end up buying a pair, I’ll let you know.

Will they still respect you in the morning?

Meanwhile, will Prada’s image be tarnished by shrill discounting (Their price $4xx, Our price only $3xx!) and placement near low-end Stetson aviators in the chain stores?  Will the Kenneth Cole brand be enhanced as a “2pairs for $99” option?  Will serious runners view New Balance shoes the same way after seeing the brand name on bargain frames?  Time will tell.

Eyewear retailing is a Morning After environment–perhaps the starkest, but it’s not the only one.  Incremental revenue is one thing, but brands who license indiscriminately may not look the same in the cold light of day.

In the cascade of holiday-themed, end-of-year ads, BMW’s ad stood out by a mile.  Alas, for reasons that could set the brand back a few decades.

In the first retro flashback-style scene, a young boy in a toy store stares transfixed at a top-of–the-line toy train, while his mother tries to convince him another train is almost as good as the one he craves.  “No, it isn’t” he says.

Next the boy, now a teenager, is trying out a top-of-the line guitar in a store, while his father tries to convince him that another guitar is just as good.  “No, it isn’t” he maintains.

In the payoff scene, the boy is now a successful young man Who Finally Gets What He Wants.  And, of course, what he wants is a BMW.  “Good choice,” his companion remarks.

BMW’s intended message: Dudes who want the best want BMW.
BMW’s unintended message: BMWs are for ungrateful little brats.

Trouble is, the second message fits all too well with the BMW brand of yore.  Remember the old joke about the difference between a BMW and a porcupine?  It hasn’t been that long since BMW owned the Rich A-hole niche, but the brand worked hard to expand its appeal over the years—and succeeded.  Lots of really nice folk own BMWs now and rightly haven’t been ashamed to drive them.

What were they thinking in doing this ad?  What happened to James Bond?  And wasn’t BMW all about Creating Joy just a few short months ago?

With this holiday ad, BMW is taking a giant swagger-step backward.  Does BMW really want to sweep the Greedy Little Bastard demographic?  Does it really see its primary competition as…Hummer?

What’s sad is that this backsliding is so unnecessary.  A simple casting tweak would have made a quantum difference.  Substitute peers for mom-and-dad, say kid sis in the toy store and teen friends in the guitar store, and you have clear and pretty compelling message: Discerning dudes want BMWs when they grow up.

I hope the holiday ad was limited to a regional gaffe, not a new strategic direction.  Brands can be remarkably fragile, especially brands that have some baggage tucked in their past.  Seeing that baggage clearly and renouncing it decisively is the action of a grownup—and a grownup brand.

A unifying motif for a brand can be both powerful and fun. Geek Squad uses a campy retro-spy theme, reminiscent of “Get Smart.” Geek Squad reps are “double agents” saving the world one computer at a time.  Folders for documents and CDs are “’Recently Declassified’ case files,” etc. etc.  It works pretty well, mostly.

When Geek Squad installed a new router and set up a printer network for me recently, the service call documents referred to my computers as “Suspect No. 1” and “Suspect No. 2,” for example—on page 5 of the documents, no less.  So this theme seems fairly well baked into their brand.  Except when it turns out to be only half-baked.

I’ve had to call Geek Squad three times since the initial service call.  Each time, I get recorded message that starts with a peppy voice saying: “If you have a Top Secret Passcode, enter it now!”

Hmm… what’s a Top Secret Passcode? Sounds like a special promotion offer.  Not having one, I waded through the phone menu the first two times, finding nothing that really fits my situation.  Eventually I was connected to a human being to whom I explained my situation and was asked for my order number.

On the third call, I tried something new.  When prompted for my Top Secret Passcode I entered my Order Number and…it worked.

What would it take to add “aka your Order Number” to the peppy greeting?  Or to create a lively “This is your Top Secret Passcode!” stamp above the Order Number in the customer’s documents?

No doubt the Order Number was created long before the spy theme and will live on long after the brand has moved to a new motif.  But meanwhile, Geek Squad is mystifying consumers and creating more work for its call centers.  The brand would be better served by nimble deftness, thinking through its customer’s experience, than by wielding a thick shtick.