
Freed by the BeetleVolkswagen rescues a cubicle slave.
Posted Monday, Jan. 6, 2003, at 11:25 AM ET
When the discriminating readers of the "Ad Report Card" kindly volunteer opinions that form a consensus about a given ad, the consensus is usually that the ad stinks. But lately I've been getting e-mail that pretty consistently praises an ad for the new VW Beetle Convertible. This sort of thing doesn't happen often, so the spot is worth a look—not least because I think the readers are right about it. You can see it here, via Volkswagen's Web site (click "See the commercial").
The ad depicts an endless series of more or less interchangeable days in the life of a young office worker. With lots of jump cuts and split screens, we see him waking up at 7:30, picking out a shirt and tie from his variations-on-a-theme wardrobe, riding an escalator in a big, anonymous office tower, pouring himself coffee, shuffling papers, loping through the cubicle jungle, staring out the window in an endless sea of nearly identical windows. Then the process starts over, again and again. The background music is a thoroughly upbeat number that sounds like some forgotten bit of British Invasion ephemera; it's actually an Electric Light Orchestra tune called "Mr. Blue Sky." There's one moment in the ad when our hero looks out his window and sees a pretty young woman—but something about the glass and space that divides them makes their look seem like little more than a daydream. Then he sees something else: A new VW Beetle Convertible wheeling out of the parking lot. The music hits an elegiac crest. The car pulls away and we look back at the young man: If there is hope for him, it seems, this car is it.
The spot's effectiveness is all in the rhythm and pacing—and it's quite effective. The kid is likable, so we're sort of rooting for him, but he seems trapped, somebody stuck in a huge transparent cage, looking for signs of life out there to latch onto. (The ad is titled "Bubble Boy.") That killer ride in the parking lot is his beacon of hope. Of course, he'll have to keep working to buy one, and on some level there's something depressing about a material object as the only source of meaning in life, but, hey, come on, that's the whole point of advertising.
Anyway, the soundtrack is a highlight for a couple of reasons. One is that the upbeat music both takes the edge off the grim scenes of climate-controlled cube life and suggests that something will happen to reveal the "blue sky" referred to in the lyrics. The other reason is the simple fact that it's a tune by, of all bands, ELO. This means that the music is neither an attempt to repurpose a countercultural anthem, nor an attempt to break a new act—the two most common tactics with pop music in commercials nowadays. Instead it gives new life to an old song by—let's face it—a band that most people think is a joke (if they think of ELO at all). The idea is that if there's anything cooler than being the sort of person who is first to discover a hip new band, it's being the sort of person who has the taste to find a gem that's hidden in plain sight.
One last point about this ad: Even today, a lot of commercials targeting or featuring young people seem to use a circa 1999 template—a new generation that rejects old work and spending paradigms and demands total freedom, etc. This ad goes the other direction, and faces the reality that, in the end, what a lot of young people have to do is, you know, get a job, and find solace in the form of a snappy convertible. Maybe some things never change.
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Notes From The Fray Editor:
Will the Convertibeetle make you happy? Various answers below. Wanna fight about ELO? Go here or here.
Remarks From The Fray:
As a young man working at Volkswagen of America's corporate headquarters, I immediately identified with the ad's character and his monotonous work week. However, I found it ironic that the source of his inspiration and hope is what keeps me busy all day in a windowless cubicle. Maybe his imaginary company makes something that will make my life better?
-- pylon5
(To reply, click here.)
The funny part is, we just watched Fight Club again recently (which holds "favorite movie" status for the both of us) and this Bubble Boy suffers from exactly the same "Ikea nesting instinct" as the narrarator in Fight Club (who eventually goes on to develop multiple personalities and destroy the Delaware financial district in a fit of nihilism).
The point of both the ad and the movie is this...as much bad press as the "ho-hum everyday life" gets in books and movies, it's really not so bad. It's a fact of life, a reality that you're probably just going to have to get used to. Once you do, you can even be reasonably happy...albeit your James-Bond-Jack-Kerouac lifestyle will have been betrayed.
So VW says, "Yes, let's face the brutal truth. Some hipster novelist/filmmaker could PROBABLY make your life seem like a torturous sensory deprivation tank if they wanted. However, set it to ELO and it's quite tolerable, even fun. You say you want to buy a Bug? Go ahead...surely it'll be in the plus column of your life's happiness ledger, and who's anybody else to judge YOUR life?"
-- Mangar
(To reply, click here.)
Cubicle-Boy obviously hasn't any aspirations higher than a vehicle which seems to me to be driven exclusively by college girls and middle-aged women. How emasculating.
-- andkathleen
(To reply, click here.)
Actually I found that advert soul destroying. Being an accountant, and having been in that large office environment I just saw the futility of my life laid in front of me. Same Sh*t Different Day for the next 20 odd years. And no, some crappy car with no roof isn't going to make my life better.-- fullheadofhair
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