Category: Commercials

Kenneth, the insufferable Best Buy elf

You’ve seen him this holiday season. Some may wish to define him as a slacker. Some would call him a hipster. I don’t know, man. I just think he’s the worst elf ever.

Look at this Johnny-come-lately. He just strolls in like he owns the place, even though he’s the newest elf on the block. I’ve seen this before. A new hotshot that corporate pushed through the ranks.

He fires up the elf workers with a rousing, passionate speech. He wants these elves to offer tech support, even though, as elves, that is clearly not in the job description. But hey, we’re all doing more with less these days, and so on. He’s an elf for our times. A sad elf for our sad times.

Allow me a semi-related tangent. Just before I arrived at my newspaper job years ago, a former publisher at the paper was pushing a concept he touted as “The Power of One.” Now, from what I understand, the basic idea was that if the phone rang, and someone had a problem, or a question, YOU had to solve it. So, if you’re sitting in the newsroom, and a reader has a problem with his or her newspaper delivery, you wouldn’t be allowed to transfer the call to the circulation department. That would make too much sense. You had to step away from what you were doing, call the circulation department (or leave your desk and walk to the circulation department), figure out how to resolve the issue on your own, and return to the caller with a perfect solution. Even in theory, this sounds like a bad idea: People stepping away from their own jobs to do the jobs of others.

Not only that, but, apparently, the publisher told the employees that some of these callers would be plants. Fake readers. People who would only call in to see if workers were transferring calls. Yes, as absurd as it sounds, this was a real threat, though I don’t know if anyone ever acted on it.

What happened? I’m told that people just ignored their phones, which isn’t exactly ideal. And so, “The Power of One” mercifully died a quiet death.

What does this have to do with the Best Buy elf? Well, people are hired to do certain jobs. And these elves work all year long, making toys. That’s what they do. They’re Christmas elves. They’re born into it. And now, this little tool with a soul patch/goatee rolls in and tells these elves they have to provide tech support, and you know what? Initially, the elves embrace the idea. Because elves help Santa, and they’ll do so in any way they can. They recognize technology is changing everything. They’ve gotta adapt. Little Billy isn’t asking for a homemade wooden train these days, after all. It’d be good for an elf to know his or her way around a smartphone, I suppose, though it’s not very romantic.

Then, the Best Buy elf drops the bombshell. The elves have to work Christmas.

The other elves, rightly, stare at Kenneth — yes, that is his name — clearly thinking, “Is dude for real?” Christmas Day is the one day where they can sit back and relax in peace, proud in knowing the fruits of their labor are being enjoyed by good little Christian tots all over the world. But not anymore. Now they have to sit in a call center on Christmas and explain to Aunt Nancy how to unlock an iPhone. Give ‘em that one day, Kenneth. For the love of all that is holy, let them have Christmas Day.

I’m sure this announcement was met with grumbles and simmering outrage among members of the elf community, who were likely told, “Just be happy you have a job.” I mean, I never took Santa as a big supporter of outsourcing, but you can’t be too sure these days.

I hoped that the befuddled elves would tear Kenneth apart, tiny limb by tiny limb, just after the commercial ended. Sadly, it was not to be. He would return:

HE KILLED A UNICORN. HIS KILLJOY ATTITUDE DEFLATED A MAGICAL UNICORN, THEREBY KILLING IT.

And I know the economy’s rough, but does he have to rub our faces in it? Magic doesn’t help people save money, Kenneth. Sound financial decisions do! People believing that we can work “magic” with money is what got us into trouble in the first place! So don’t bring the snowman to life with the words, “Christmas Magic.” You don’t understand it.

I can’t remember a good Best Buy commercial, but ol’ Kenneth is turning Best Buy into a Christmas villain. Look out Grinch! Step aside, Burgermeister Meisterburger!  You’ve got company!

And of course Kenneth is drinking coffee. Of course he is. I wonder if he knows this coffee guy. (Second video in the link.) They’re probably real good friends.

Pizza punked out on the precipice of prestige

You almost did it, DiGiorno. For a few seconds there, it looked like your newest commercial would actually feature that advertising rarity — a man outsmarting a woman. Not only that — a husband outsmarting his wife. That hasn’t been seen in years. Maybe decades. You go, DiGiorno!

But you just couldn’t do it, could you? You weren’t strong enough. The man was too dumb to hide the box. Of course he was. He’s just a dopey ol’ dude. We can’t help ourselves.

Weak sauce, DiGiorno. In more ways than one.

Searching for the perfect prawn

Of all the omnipresent commercials being shown during the NCAA tournament, this is my least favorite.

Now, I’m sure, on some level, this made sense to someone. Someone who isn’t quite sure what a blog is, or who bloggers are, or what Taco Bell is. That’s the only explanation. Let’s break it down.

“I’m a shrimp blogger.”

Right off the bat, we’ve got something wrong. Shrimp blogger? This dude blogs only about shrimp? A quick search for “shrimp blog” sent me to a site that sold shrimp, and later, a blog about why shrimp suck. Now, a seafood blog, I can understand. But just shrimp?

“I’ve traveled seven continents just to find the perfect prawn.”

What, pray tell, does the shrimp taste like in Antarctica? Are we talking about the shrimp NASA just discovered there? Maybe this guy made the discovery himself.

Bigger question: Who’s funding this dude? Perhaps he inherited a fortune, and he spends his lonely life pursuing his one true passion. Shrimp.

“The legendary Hercules shrimp? Blogged it. Then I ate it.”

Hmm … where to begin? Well, the legendary Hercules shrimp doesn’t exist, for one thing. (Kind of an oxymoron, no?) And I’m not sure anyone actually says “blogged it.” Also, why would he “blog it” before he ate it?

“There was nothing shrimp I’d left unblogged.”

Someone’s pretty sure of himself.

“But when word came in that Taco Bell had Pacific Shrimp Tacos with six succulent shrimp marinated in a waterfall of spices, I had to ask, ‘Should I blog it, or keep this one for myself?’ “

He’s been all over the world to eat every kind of shrimp. And yet, when “word came in” (presumably a text from Shrimp Blogging Headquarters) that Taco Freakin’ Bell was offering a shrimp taco, he dropped everything. Uh-huh.

And how could he possibly keep it for himself? Like everyone else involved in the making of this commercial, he clearly has no idea what Taco Bell is. Those shrimp ain’t going to stay secret, buddy.

And yet, in that final sentence, what bothers me most? “Marinated in a waterfall of spices.” A waterfall … of spices. Who are the ad wizards who came up with this one?

I’m Hatin’ It

It’s hard for me to pick my least favorite thing about McDonald’s: Its destructive and deplorable business practices, its nauseating food or its godawful commercials.

I’m not sure if I’ve enjoyed even one McDonald’s commercial during the “I’m Lovin’ It” era. All of these ads try so hard to be hip or funny, that they forget about concepts like “making sense.” Remember “The Dollar Menunaires?” Or how about this one:

This is a key character in McDonald’s commercials — the oblivious human who has no concept of what life is like on this planet. (Perhaps that’s why he eats at McDonald’s.) Why would he even ask someone at a travel agency or a tanning salon what he could get for a dollar? To set up the sell, of course — Mickey D’s has cheap food! — but his bizarre behavior completely misses the point. Shouldn’t he at least be visiting different restaurants? I mean, those Golden Corral commercials are annoying, but at least they’re comparing their restaurants to other eateries. All of this would be excusable if the commercial were actually funny. It’s not.

Which brings us to our next case. This prick:

So many questions. If he’s that much of a jerk without coffee, and he can’t even respond like a decent human being without it, why doesn’t he own a coffee maker? Why does he go out of his way to tell people, “Sorry, I haven’t had my coffee yet,” when a “hi” would suffice? How does he still have a roommate?

But most puzzling of all is his reaction upon learning that McDonald’s offers coffee: Genuine excitement and surprise, as if he just discovered that McDonald’s sells coffee — ahem, “premium roast coffee for just a dollar.” What? How could he not know this? And if he didn’t know, why would he go to McDonald’s before getting his precious coffee? The whole premise is completely flawed. Not only that, but it paints McDonald’s customers as oblivious jerks.

You didn’t think anyone was paying attention, did you, McDonald’s? You never think anyone is paying attention. And maybe you’re right. After all, it’s a fair explanation of your success.

But it wasn’t always this way, at least when it comes to advertising. Today is apropos to revisit one of the all-time great Super Bowl ads, courtesy of McDonald’s:

UPDATE: Well, I’ll be. McDonald’s revealed an updated version of “The Showdown” just before tonight’s Super Bowl, featuring LeBron James and Dwight Howard. Sure, it’s recycled, but it’s still better than the typical “I’m Lovin’ It” fare.