That’s My Boy, produced by Saatchi & Saatchi Advertising for Adult Tylenol.
The strategy animating That’s My Boy, produced by Saatchi & Saatchi Advertising for Adult Tylenol, is simple: Capitalize on the clichéd but timely football motif to appeal directly to the men among the 129 million viewers of the Super Bowl broadcast. At the same time, reach out to women–who buy the pills and stock the medicine cabinet–by cleverly deconstructing the macho stereotype so that it becomes familiar, funny.
Sound02 - tylenol.avi or Sound03 - tylenol.mov; download time, 4 minutes at 56K Sound01 - VR-Tylenol.asf; for sound only
The strategy animating That’s My Boy, produced by Saatchi & Saatchi Advertising for Adult Tylenol, is simple: Capitalize on the clichéd but timely football motif to appeal directly to the men among the 129 million viewers of the Super Bowl broadcast. At the same time, reach out to women–who buy the pills and stock the medicine cabinet–by cleverly deconstructing the macho stereotype so that it becomes familiar, funny.
The second scene shows Dad holding the ball for a place kick. The setting, complete with Norman Rockwell backyard and white picket fence, is perfect. It invites nostalgia, stirs memories of The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet or, for parents born a generation later, The Partridge Family, when … ouch! Junior’s mighty kick makes sharp contact with Dad’s foot.
The spot opens with an overweight father clearly looking to realize his old dreams vicariously through his son. Dad knows that the key to success lies in the early start he did not get, that only the savvy fledgling gets the worm. So he’s willing to go to bat for his boy: “Now, we got a lot of work to do before the next game,” he tells the perfectly–and expensively–attired aspirant. “But I’m with you.” His support, the son’s almost weary “OK, Dad” suggests, is a dubious privilege.
The second scene shows Dad holding the ball for a place kick. The setting, complete with Norman Rockwell backyard and white picket fence, is perfect. It invites nostalgia, stirs memories of The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet or, for parents born a generation later, The Partridge Family, when … ouch! Junior’s mighty kick makes sharp contact with Dad’s foot.
And for all the kidding he’s taken, Dad gets his payoff. The scene moves to the real world of real players and real coaches, and our footballer, still wearing his No. 11 jersey, seems to be holding his own: “Your little guy’s looking pretty good out there,” says an approving coach. The dad is studiously blasé: “Yeah, well,” he says. “We’ve been practicing.”
The game over, father and son walk away from us, satisfied. The little guy in the big shirt gets a pat on the head from Dad: “Hey, that was a good game, buddy.” The Tylenol name appears at the bottom of the screen in a strong but unobtrusive red. A perfect end to a perfect day. Dad’s been injured, sure, but his pride is intact, his love for his son papering over his shortcomings as a coach. Mom’s still smiling, struck by the warmth and familiarity of this scene–and, the ad makers hope, she’s still turning up the dials and buying up the Tylenol.
And for all the kidding he’s taken, Dad gets his payoff. The scene moves to the real world of real players and real coaches, and our footballer, still wearing his No. 11 jersey, seems to be holding his own: “Your little guy’s looking pretty good out there,” says an approving coach. The dad is studiously blasé: “Yeah, well,” he says. “We’ve been practicing.”
