Folks Waggin'

During booming economies, advertising gets frolicsome, presumably because there's enough down-and-dirty sales to go around. During tough economies, advertising reverts. To paraphrase Hunter Thompson, when the going gets stupid, the stupid turn pro.

Exhibit A: Volkswagen. No later than two years ago, VW advertised with obscure kitschy 70s and 80s pop tunes and fanciful comic-strip stories. Remember the two kids picking up the stinky couch to the tones of "da-da-da--da--da..."? Gone. How about the blonde chicky whose serial beaux and serial hairstyles played out to The Tom-Tom Club's "My Boyfriend"? Splitsville.

VW is looking, rather late in the game, to break into the SUV market with their new Scheissewagen (or whatever it's called). In the TV spots, we're told nothing about the vehicle, of course. Instead, we're treated to phony auditions for actors in the commercials. Somebody in an ad agency thought this was clever: the car isn't on the market yet, so the ads aren't out yet either, hence what the ads show are auditions for ads that haven't been made for a car that hasn't been manufactured for a market that hasn't been tested. And on my viewing of the ads, I'd say that's about right - these ads clearly haven't been put together.

To make them quasi-realistic, the auditions are shown in somewhat dim light (for an ad anyway) and not quite in good focus. The various actors in the commercials sit in a straight-backed chair against a wall and are given prompts from an off-camera voice (presumably the casting director) to act like they're driving the SUV through various difficult terrains and situations. The actors also bounce in the seat a bit. But if the ad agency really wanted realism, they should have had them act out the kinds of scenarios in which SUVs are most often found, for instance, being driven way too fast, weaving through five lanes of heavy traffic, nearly tipping over onto a hapless Honda civic.

This is as brazen and pure an ad campaign as there ever was. We are not only not told anything relevant about the product, we're not even shown the bloody thing, so what's being sold is the sell itself. Consuming is the aim and desire represented here, as though the Volkswagen people are going through a Scarlet O'Hara moment: as God is their witness, they'll never be undersold again!

But I shouldn't give them too much credit. Many companies have advertised products that haven't been released yet. It's the basic premise of movie trailers, after all. What they're selling isn't an SUV, it's the SUV yet to come, the ghost of SUVs future. An old advertising saw says "don't sell the steak, sell the sizzle." VW isn't selling the sizzle, they're selling the promise of the sizzle. This messianic turn isn't limited to VW ads, either. The reason should be obvious. Capitalism, as a system of economic life, depends on believing in future rewards. If you work, you'll be rewarded. If you invest, you'll be rewarded. If you buy, you'll be rewarded. That capitalism delivers so infrequently on this promise doesn't matter because the true measure of capitalism's success isn't increasing wealth or the advancement of social benefit via the "invisible hand," but this belief itself. It's a religion - a phony, artificial, secular, crass religion, founded on the notion that capital will provide.

The problem here is, VW is selling short. Who would believe in an SUV, let alone a savior, pitched by these goofballs? If only Patrick Stewart provided the voice-over for these ads, we could say they were hoist on their own Picards. That's as good a joke as they deserve.