I had a friend send me this article. I found it interesting enough that I thought I'd post it here. Along with my response.
The problem with Hummer's new ad.
By Seth Stevenson
Posted Monday, Nov. 24, 2003, at 9:24 AM PT
Spot: "Big Race"
Product: The Hummer H2 sport utility vehicle.
Synopsis: A moody-looking tween enters a soapbox derby. The car
he builds looks remarkably like a Hummer H2, except much
smaller (it could fit in the H2's wheel well) and made of wood
(instead of ballistic chromified Kevlar or whatever).
At the start line, the kid's unorthodox, cobbled-together car
gets snickered at. When the race begins, the other kids?in
sleek, low-to-ground soapbox racers?speed down the winding
pavement. The Hummer kid?in his big-wheeled contraption?veers
off-road, cuts straight across all the switchbacks, careens
back onto the pavement at the last instant, and crosses the
finish line first.
(In the 60-second version, we also learn that the kid got the
wood for the car by dismantling a doghouse. With the dog still
in it.)
Analysis: This is an incredibly well made ad. I hate it.
The music is the Who's "Happy Jack," which is sort of a
brilliant choice. On one level, the song tugs at boomers who
rocked out to it in the '60s. But there's an ancillary target:
The tune's stripped-down, British Invasion sound would fit
right in on the Rushmore soundtrack, giving it some resonance
with a younger crowd. (Rushmore actually used a different Who
song from the same album.)
For sheer entertainment value, this is a fantastic commercial.
Visually arresting. Engrossing narrative. (And an unexpectedly
wussy, un-Hummer-y art-house pedigree: It was directed by the
guy who did Shine, and the ad's cinematographer worked on
Amélie.) Plus, of course, the kick-ass Who song. My problem is
with its underlying ethics.
1. The Hummer kid cheats. Yes, the company's Web site offers
"thinking outside the box" justifications, pointing out that
the race rules are just "First one down wins." But I don't buy
it. He fails to stay on a clearly demarcated course. In my
book, that's an automatic DQ. Anyway, the off-road driving
didn't even look that treacherous?I bet the regular cars could
have handled it, too, if their drivers were little cheating
brats. Were I the other kids, I would have ripped the wheels
off the soapbox Hummer and beat the cheater about the head with
them.
2. He endangers other racers. His car is much bigger and
heavier, with a higher center of gravity. At one point, only
minimally in control of his vehicle, drunk on the
overconfidence he draws from his outsized deathmobile, the
Hummer kid hurtles across the road right as the rest of the
pack is passing. He just barely misses crushing another kid's
car, and possibly spine.
3. What about the poor dog? We see it left abandoned in its
now-useless doghouse, peering sadly through gaping holes where
the slats the kid stole used to be. Conclusion: The Hummer kid
hoards earth's precious resources, sating his own vanity at the
expense of less fortunate, voiceless members of society.
Of course, some will love the shameless Hummer kid and his
take-no-prisoners, win-at-all-costs individualism. Not
coincidentally, these are the sort of people who buy Hummers.
It would make no sense for the company to aim this spot at
folks craving a quiet, go-along-get-along image, because those
people aren't buying 40-ton cars. The Hummer kid is a me-first
kid, and the Hummer is without doubt a me-first vehicle.
But the company tries to have it both ways. By showing us that
the kid has devised a novel race strategy, worked hard to build
his ramshackle entry, and gotten ridiculed at the start line,
Hummer tries to steal back a little respect and good will. The
ad also lets the Hummer buyer spin his purchase as an act of
clever outsiderism, recasting his inner bully as a scrappy
underdog. It failed to convert me, but then I drive a 1992
Honda Accord.
As the kid crosses the finish line, the Who sings, "And they
couldn't prevent Jack from feeling happy," and that's an
appealing notion: No one can stop me from being happy, once
I've got my Hummer. No one, I tell you! To my eyes, though, as
the kid closes out his no doubt soon-to-be-disputed soapbox
victory, he looks less happy than determined and grim.
Grade: B. Probably the most memorable car ad since Volkswagen's
"Mr. Blue Sky" spot. Points off for moral bankruptcy.
Seth Stevenson is a frequent Slate contributor.
Article URL: http://slate.msn.com/id/2091577/
The problem with Hummer's new ad.
By Seth Stevenson
Posted Monday, Nov. 24, 2003, at 9:24 AM PT
Spot: "Big Race"
Product: The Hummer H2 sport utility vehicle.
Synopsis: A moody-looking tween enters a soapbox derby. The car
he builds looks remarkably like a Hummer H2, except much
smaller (it could fit in the H2's wheel well) and made of wood
(instead of ballistic chromified Kevlar or whatever).
At the start line, the kid's unorthodox, cobbled-together car
gets snickered at. When the race begins, the other kids?in
sleek, low-to-ground soapbox racers?speed down the winding
pavement. The Hummer kid?in his big-wheeled contraption?veers
off-road, cuts straight across all the switchbacks, careens
back onto the pavement at the last instant, and crosses the
finish line first.
(In the 60-second version, we also learn that the kid got the
wood for the car by dismantling a doghouse. With the dog still
in it.)
Analysis: This is an incredibly well made ad. I hate it.
The music is the Who's "Happy Jack," which is sort of a
brilliant choice. On one level, the song tugs at boomers who
rocked out to it in the '60s. But there's an ancillary target:
The tune's stripped-down, British Invasion sound would fit
right in on the Rushmore soundtrack, giving it some resonance
with a younger crowd. (Rushmore actually used a different Who
song from the same album.)
For sheer entertainment value, this is a fantastic commercial.
Visually arresting. Engrossing narrative. (And an unexpectedly
wussy, un-Hummer-y art-house pedigree: It was directed by the
guy who did Shine, and the ad's cinematographer worked on
Amélie.) Plus, of course, the kick-ass Who song. My problem is
with its underlying ethics.
1. The Hummer kid cheats. Yes, the company's Web site offers
"thinking outside the box" justifications, pointing out that
the race rules are just "First one down wins." But I don't buy
it. He fails to stay on a clearly demarcated course. In my
book, that's an automatic DQ. Anyway, the off-road driving
didn't even look that treacherous?I bet the regular cars could
have handled it, too, if their drivers were little cheating
brats. Were I the other kids, I would have ripped the wheels
off the soapbox Hummer and beat the cheater about the head with
them.
2. He endangers other racers. His car is much bigger and
heavier, with a higher center of gravity. At one point, only
minimally in control of his vehicle, drunk on the
overconfidence he draws from his outsized deathmobile, the
Hummer kid hurtles across the road right as the rest of the
pack is passing. He just barely misses crushing another kid's
car, and possibly spine.
3. What about the poor dog? We see it left abandoned in its
now-useless doghouse, peering sadly through gaping holes where
the slats the kid stole used to be. Conclusion: The Hummer kid
hoards earth's precious resources, sating his own vanity at the
expense of less fortunate, voiceless members of society.
Of course, some will love the shameless Hummer kid and his
take-no-prisoners, win-at-all-costs individualism. Not
coincidentally, these are the sort of people who buy Hummers.
It would make no sense for the company to aim this spot at
folks craving a quiet, go-along-get-along image, because those
people aren't buying 40-ton cars. The Hummer kid is a me-first
kid, and the Hummer is without doubt a me-first vehicle.
But the company tries to have it both ways. By showing us that
the kid has devised a novel race strategy, worked hard to build
his ramshackle entry, and gotten ridiculed at the start line,
Hummer tries to steal back a little respect and good will. The
ad also lets the Hummer buyer spin his purchase as an act of
clever outsiderism, recasting his inner bully as a scrappy
underdog. It failed to convert me, but then I drive a 1992
Honda Accord.
As the kid crosses the finish line, the Who sings, "And they
couldn't prevent Jack from feeling happy," and that's an
appealing notion: No one can stop me from being happy, once
I've got my Hummer. No one, I tell you! To my eyes, though, as
the kid closes out his no doubt soon-to-be-disputed soapbox
victory, he looks less happy than determined and grim.
Grade: B. Probably the most memorable car ad since Volkswagen's
"Mr. Blue Sky" spot. Points off for moral bankruptcy.
Seth Stevenson is a frequent Slate contributor.
Article URL: http://slate.msn.com/id/2091577/
