I love reading Mediawatch on Football 365.

Each day they take apart the bullshit of football reporting: the inconsistencies; the hypocrisies; the unfounded hype; and the just plain wrong.

My favourite examples go something like this:

Rage, Attack, Slam And Blame
Headline on the back page of The Sun: ‘AVB LUKAKU RAGE.’
Headline on the back page of the Daily Mirror: ‘AVB SLAMS LUK OVER LLORIS KO.’
Headline on the back page of the Daily Express: ‘AVB attack on Lukaku.’
Headline on the back page of the Daily Star: ‘I BLAME LU.’

Actual quotes from AVB: “He’s a young player and wonderfully gifted – but I think he could have jumped over perfectly. I want to believe that Lukaku’s leg was not left late to clash into Hugo’s head. And I am disappointed Lukaku has not got into contact with Hugo.”

Give the man space…he’s going to explode.

The use of hyperbolic language in British football reporting is something I fnd fascinating. I understand that the back pages feel the need to whip even the tiniest disagreement into a frenzy of opprobrium, but it’s just so fucking silly. As the above example shows, a minor conflict of opinions is often conveyed to be more like AK-47s at dawn, but how did we get to the stage where we have to do over the truth in such an obvious manner?

To me it’s a close cousin of coming back from fishing with a story of the one that got away. The kind word for this stuff is ‘exaggeration’; the real word is ‘bullshit’, and the even more real word is ‘lying’.

And yet no one seems to mind. And no one seems to mind when it happens in advertising either. The simple instruction of creating a good ad is ‘find a difference and exaggerate it’. Here are some examples…

http://vimeo.com/44813306

Some of the most awarded of all time, and all complete and utter bullshit. Is the Sony TV’s colour display anything like as amazing as hundreds of thousands of balls bouncing down a hill? Is Stella so prized that people would insist someone else risked their life for a bottle? Is ComCast’s internet really as fast as those examples? (Actually, it probably is, but in relative terms it’s a massive exaggeration.)

And that’s all OK for some reason.

It’s because we are all used to this construction. There have been so many ads that use this technique to sell us stuff that we don’t even notice when it happens. Every happiness provided by Hamlet or part refreshed by Heineken has made this way of advertising acceptable.

And that’s fine.

But in my opinion it’s not as good as ads that use truth (or something like it):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pSLOnR1s74o

I mean, why lie when you can be straight? I accept that many products have nothing different to say, leaving them in exaggeration land, but wouldn’t it be better if they improved their products, found a difference and told us about it?

It might be less entertaining, but as the above examples show, it might not.

You’re sad that Lou Reed died, so you frown. A banana in that position looks like a frown. There was a banana on the cover of a famous Velvet Underground album.

This is like newborn apes scrawling ads on trees with their own filth.

Hi all,

Do you give blood? You really should. It obviously helps people who might otherwise die, particularly around this time of the year, when people seem to be more likely to pop their clogs.

I gave blood thirty times before a fairly long run of tattooing prevented me from doing so again (you can’t give blood within six months of having a tattoo, fact fans. Nor if you’ve had unprotected sex with a prostitute. Or been to a dodgy part of sub-Saharan Africa. Or shared needles with someone. Basically, the blood donation centre is full of quite dull people). So with me off the team the dying people of Britain need you.

Yes, you.

Not that guy behind you.

There’s a place near Oxford Circus, and I recommend weekday mornings to avoid the crowds (if anyone in my department is reading this, you are free to come in a bit late if it’s because you’ve given blood). You also get tea and biscuits and a really warm feeling of having done something nice for people.

xxx

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vTLjulVbbE4

Animated gingerbread man prances around the Christmas feast-laden dinner table of Ant and Dec while singing ‘Be Our Guest’.

The problem here is that I have no idea which of these two is Ant or Dec, so Ant (or Dec) and Ant (or Dec) dash in and sit down. Then Ant (or Dec) and Ant (or Dec)  smile with delight at the acrobatics of the animated gingerbread man before Ant (or Dec) receives a flying napkin and makes an oddly disgusted face (was that really the best take?) and grabs a won ton from a won ton stand. Inspired by this, Ant (or Dec) takes a spicy prawn from the bottom of a pile (why? I have no idea. I think he might be educationally subnormal), Ant (or Dec) has a bit of panettone and Ant (or Dec) enjoys a mouthful of crackling, proclaiming it to be ‘delicious’. We then see the Morrison’s chefs, which are surprisingly small and plastic, and Ant (or Dec) enjoying some snow that turns out to be sugar (or cocaine; we never find out). The gingerbread man kicks some jizz onto Ant’s (or Dec’s) jacket (disgusted look again), while Ant (or Dec) pulls a cracker with the gingerbread man and someone flips a little biscuit into his mouth, causing Ant (or Dec) to look miffed. It all ends with a flourish from the gingerbread man, before Ant (or Dec) seems to suggest that Ant (or Dec) eats the little confectionary hominid.

Shit has been sucked.

Here’s the new Tesco Christmas ad:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_4AOpcBwZ4

When I watched it this morning I realised it had been on the previous evening but I’d only heard it. I was doing something on my laptop and all I could think was ‘what’s that incredibly long ad with Rod Stewart sounding like he’s squeezing one out?’ It didn’t interest me enough to make me look up, though.

So I had a look today and and, one small quibble aside (the piss poor ageing make up) I think they’ve done a good job.

The observation of the family moments at Christmas is pretty skilful, and Tesco is a big enough part of this country’s fabric to justify a ‘British Christmas=Tesco’ ad. Like John Lewis they set their bar quite high and it could all have gone horribly wrong, but in my opinion they’ve pulled it off.

So: closer to the JL end of the scale than M&S.

Hooray.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O7Xw1IL3oh0

Through nefarious means I have managed to obtain the script:

World’s Hottest Model chases after dog, loses dog, but comes across open manhole and seems to think dog has fallen down it.

Then, with the help of some particularly low-quality post, WHM loses all her clothes in a questionable plot twist. (If I wrote ‘hot girl falls down hole and loses her clothes’ in a script I’d be far too embarrassed to show it to anyone for fear of looking like a salacious old perv. Come on… it’s a plotline straight out of the seventies. I’m imagining pot bellied creatives guffawing their way through the writing process like a pair of Sid Jameses while swannee whistles score the lamentable sex gestures they chuck at one another across the desk as they smoke Castellas. I’m sure someone will now tell me the actual creatives are laydeez who are affirming the sexual liberation of their gender by filling the UK’s TV screens with hot models in their underwear. Well, if that’s the case, let me disabuse them of that notion: 99% of the interest in this shot will be from men who will rigorously objectify poor WHM, possibly into an old sock.)

WHM lands, farting glitter appropriately out of her Gary, then World’s Only Vaguely Well Known Male Model appears as the Mad Hatter. WHM is sort of given a cheap handbag, which she takes, annoying some other Alice In Wonderland types who throw playing cards at her. But WHM doesn’t seem that bothered as she is pursued by playing card people through some woods in a sequence that’s supposed to be quirkily stylised but comes off quite a lot closer to ‘shite’.

WHM arrives at some sort of tree house-type thing, goes in and walks onto a carpet, which then sort of takes off, much to the surprise/displeasure of a painting. (At this point we’re a minute in and I’m starting to regret embarking on this run-through of the entire ad. So far it’s been sixty seconds of aimless, random bollocks, optimistically dressed up as a fairytale. But fairytales (even Alice In Wonderland) tend to have some kind of plot to them. This looks like nothing more than an expensive exercise in throwing shit at the nation’s TV screens to see what will stick.)

WHM is now in amongst some fake clouds and her kit’s off again. I think she’s farted a white cloud, but no – it’s WOVWKMM appearing at her rear to experience some even worse post than the manhole shot. But before we have a chance to marvel at that, the scene has changed again and we’re  on some yellow brick road set. WOVWKMM is the scarecrow, but I’m not sure who WHM and her mates are supposed to be, but I recognise this as The Point In The M&S AD Where We Finally See An Ethnic Minority Model (and usually an older person like Twiggy, but not this time). Oh, hang on… EMM has a massive stupid hair-do, so maybe she’s supposed to be a kind of fanciable lion. Non-Ethnic Minority Model is dressed in greys, which I’m guessing is an attempt to make her look like the tin man. Genius.

They arrive at a spooky green door which is answered by the massive disembodied head of Helena Bonham-Carter as the Wizard Of Odd. Ruby heels are clicked and WHM is magically sent back to a telecom repair man’s tent (that I never seem to see anymore) in the ‘real world’. According to YouTube there are still 45 seconds to go. Fuck.

‘Real’ Helena (if such a thing exists) gives the dog back to WHM and we pan to the sky for the endline, something to do with Magic and Sparkle, not Mindless and Spunk, which might have been more appropriate. And it’s finally over.

So what about the other 30 seconds? They are spent showing little trailers for the making of and interviews with Helena, WHM and WOVWKMM. Apparently they all LOVE MONEY M&S and THAT’S WHY THEY WANTED TO MAKE THIS AD. Helena thought Tim hasn’t cast me in anything this week ‘It was fun, so yeah… why not?’

There you go… And you can also take part in naming the dog (which looks very much old enough to already have a name), but if you do, don’t forget – you’ll have to live with the fact that you’re a bit of a cunt.

SEASON’S GREETINGS ONE AND ALL!!!!!!!

Here’s the new Christmas ad:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XqWig2WARb0

Damn…

I really don’t want to like a cartoon advert about a bear and a hare, or Lily Allen singing a Keane song, or an utterly transparent attempt to wring moisture from my eyeballs.

But fuck it – like the title of the post says, they’ve done it again.

And it’s so hard to pull this kind of thing off: to continue an already well-loved series of ads; to get the right tone that will annoy 17 hipsters in Shoreditch but gently massage the hearts of the other 59,999,983 of us; to make me remember what I used to love about Lily Allen in 2008 and Keane in 2005 (always had a soft spot for Somewhere Only We Know. Fuck you if you don’t; you can like three Keane songs and the entire oeuvre of Led Zeppelin); to use just the right kind of animation that blends old fashioned Disney basics with deft insertions of realism; and to pull off a smart, unusual plot with a proper good twist.

Yes, I know what some of you are thinking: Ben, you’re talking soft shite.

Well, unfortunately for those of you who think that, it also undeniably ticks the boxes of originality, standout and quality craft.

Stick that up your Christmas chimney.

Oh and thanks for this, Louise of Twitter:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jORyfjHx5iY&feature=youtu.be

MRI scan of a banana (thanks, A).

Supposedly Awful first lines of novels that I actually kind of like.

Amazing short (thanks, L):

The most amazing thing on Google Maps.

Robot or drug? (Thanks, J.)

Where are you, imaginary girlfriend? (Thanks, J.)

Penis firework (thanks, R):

Male novelist jokes (thanks, T).

Cassetteboy vs The News (thanks, J):

Cute animals are really fucking evil.

The most powerful photos ever (thanks, G).

Wear a creative diving bell.

The Hoff sings the Fresh Prince theme (thanks, J):

Man digitally recreates his dreams (thanks, R).

Brilliant pictures from Russian dating sites (thanks, D).

Cats in tights (thanks, J).

The other day I was looking at this poster:

It’s nice and clean, and stopped me enough to read it and give it some thought.

But I wasn’t thinking about the cheating cyclist; I was thinking about the freedom art direction has over copy.

It’s often said that great art direction is about the creation of a ‘new page’ – a layout no one has done before. This is intended to grab the consumer’s attention by standing out from the other things he sees and intriguing him enough to engage.

But that’s not quite the same as the copywriter’s job.

Yes, the writer also has to grab and intrigue, but that must happen after the art director does his job. If the layout doesn’t bring the reader in then the consumer will never even get to the great writing. If your eyes scan the landscape then it’s the art director’s job to draw them in so that they hopefully read something like this:

But writers don’t have all the colours of the rainbow and all the images in history (including new ones yet to be seen) to assist them. Instead they have the rearrangement of those 26 letters and however many words (yes, including the odd neologism).

You could rearrange the familiar into the unfamiliar in a bid to pull the rug out from under someone’s thoughts:

Or you could shock (brilliantly):

But in the end you have to use language, which is already familiar, to attempt to create the same power of originality as art direction.

And that’s what I mean by not working in the same way.

Creating a verbal version of the new page (the new sentence?) is something of a given. Despite the clichés that infiltrate copywriting, even quite poor ads will have a sentence you’ve never seen before. The problem is that it’ll still be boring, or arranged in a familiar structure.

To have newness you need to establish a tone of voice you’ve never read before:

Or use an unexpected tone for a famous client:

So the principles of copywriting and art direction exist in similar territories but those guidelines are used in very different ways to create different processes and achieve different effects.

Maybe that’s why the best ones are usually different people.

Here’s a new Sony ad:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q2DdtkDK7w0

Ah… that takes me back…

Ads with massive pillow fights, or water pistol fights, or entire towns covered in foam or paint or whatever.

Seems a long time ago.

But this ad makes me realise I really don’t miss those days.

Which got me thinking: have I moved on, or have we?

Do these big, costly wankathons belong to a bygone era, or is that just a particularly unimaginative one?

Could we handle more ads with colossal budgets if they were attached to decent ideas, or would it be like the richness overload of a foie gras wagyu stilton burger after a year of living on dry toast? Could we really appreciate the kind of ostentatious vulgarity that makes us look down on oligarchs?

And will we ever find out?