It’s halftime in America, and I need more nachos. The Giants beat the Patriots, aka, a bunch of rich guys who play a game for a living beat up a bunch of other rich guys doing the same thing. Let’s talk about the commercials, the only part of the game with any real entertainment value.
Volkswagen—2012—The Dog Strikes Back
After last year’s ad of a father lying to his Darth Vader-dressed child to make him think he has magical powers, buying the kid a one way ticket to therapy-town and life without a girlfriend, I thought they couldn’t do any worse. I was wrong.
In this ad, a fat dog loses weight so he can fit through a doggy door to chase cars. What they didn’t show you was the extended version, where the dog gets hit and killed by the same car it got into shape for in the first place. Oh, the irony. The only good things about the commercial: the Mos Eisley montage was still better than the new Star Wars Trilogy, and the fact that Sarah McLachlan wasn’t there making me feel guilty for not adopting some pathetic dog.
I haven’t seen millions of dollars wasted this quickly since Rick Perry forgot that third thing. By far the worst commercial of the bowl, and the gayest. And not gay in the good way, like sharp dressing, snappy comeback lines, and best friends to single, defected girls. Gay in the bad way, like doggy ascots, talking like a 15-year-old girl from California, claiming to be this generation’s black people, and giving Lady Gaga a career. True story: to film this, they just went to Elton John’s house on a Wednesday afternoon and started shooting without telling anybody. Didn’t know it was a reality TV commercial, did you?
The spot’s only redeeming quality was one of Jeff Dunham’s puppets made a cameo at the end in the dungeon.
P.S. Pepsi for all = Type 2 Diabetes for all
Honda—2012—Matthew’s Day off
I like ferris Beullers day off. It’s one of my favorite all time movies. But when I saw the aged and not nearly as cool Matthew Broderick pretending Ferris again driving around in a glorified minivan, I put my copy of Ferris Beuller’s Day Off down the garbage Disposal while singing Amazing Grace.
His ability to convincingly portray Ferris Beuller died the moment he made Inspector Gadget and married a horse. If I wanted to watch an old guy try to relive his glory days, I’d watch my dad hit on college girls at the bar while my mother spends his alimony at Joannes on painted twigs and peacock feathers.
This ad is on the list, not because it showed a bunch of vampires getting killed by car headlights, but because the entire cast of Twilight wasn’t included. If Edward Cullen and post-vampire Bella were both vaporized, and the driver looked down to notice what’s left of Jacob’s body stuck in his axel, then this would have won the best Superbowl commercial of all time and I could die in peace.
What do you do when you have lots of money and zero creativity? Pay a sexy girl who gets paid for being sexy and to be sexy with your product. Eat a turd, Teleflora.
GE & Budweiser—2012—Turbines
So…without electricity there wouldn’t be beer. Wow, what an astounding revelation. Not a stretch at all. You know what else is needed to make beer? Cow crap to fertilize the barley, and I didn’t see any of that in the commercial. Well, now that I think of it, I did.
Let me get this straight. Some guy who looks like my high school substitute gym teacher’s shoe shiner has to explain how a hybrid car works to aliens who just flew in from outer space on speed-of-light hovercrafts. I’m pretty “energy crisis” has long been left out of their alien vocabulary. Leonard Nimoy is rolling in his grave, and he’s not even dead yet.
Budweiser Canada—2012—Flash Fans.
If I see another corporation leverage the coolness that once WAS flash mobs, I will light myself on fire. The fact that they tried to make it touching made it ten times worse. You know what I would be thinking if I was one of these recreational hockey players? The thrill of thousands of screaming fans and finally being a figure in the cult of personality? No, it would be a patronizing reminder of my own failures and insignificance in life, and I would go home and commit Seppuku.
M&M—2012—Just my shell
Mars Marketing Department: “New M&M character, huh? And you say it’s a girl? Well, the Green one is the sexy, flirty girl personality, so that only means that the new M&M has to be smart and bitchy, the only other girl personality that exists.” Nice and sexy, or smart and bitchy. Little girls, which one do YOU want to be? Feminists, you may now start your hate mail campaign to Mars…now.
P.S. I’d rather see Janet Jackson’s wardrobe malfunction than naked M&Ms.
Old Navy—2012—Corporado Dress Like a Man
Wait, isn’t the guy Old Navy is making fun of in this commercial actually wearing Old Navy Clothes? I’m confused…
Thanks for reminding me that I hate kids. And old people. And Doritos.
Kia Optima—2012—A Dream Car for Real Life.
Knowing that the sandman is a tiny old man who looks like the sex offender at the end of my block will make it a lot easier for me to sleep at night. At least I got to see Adriana Lima half-naked one more time.
FIAT 500 Abarth—2012—Seduction
I’ll think about driving your European slut car as soon as you change the name to something that doesn’t sound like an inbred Tennessee redneck. Time to fire your Naming Department, FIAT.
Coke—2012—Argh!, and Superstition
I wish the polar ice caps would melt already so polar bears would become extinct and coke would stop making these commercials. For the good of humanity, I’m only going to show one of them:
Dannon Oikos—2012—The Tease
Although it has always been my fantasy to headbutt Uncle Jesse, the ad still sucks because he got up after.
This ad sucked simply for the fact that Steve Nash didn’t punch Tim Duncan right in the face.
Budweiser—2012—Return of the King
Thought this was going to be a cool and clever callback to Lord of the Rings. Instead, they decided to spend 10 million showing that people were happy when prohibition ended. Groundbreaking.
Sketchers—2012—GO RUN Mr. Quiggly.
Who would be so cruel as to make a bulldog dress in clothes and sneakers and pump him full of performance enhancing drugs just to make him run against a bunch of greyhounds? Mark Cuban’s cameo at the end gave me my answer. Now we know how Dirk Nowitzki was invented.
Doritos—2012—Man’s Best Friend
Cat goes missing, owner finds out dog killed cat, dog buys owner’s silence with fattening, over-processed corn chips. Man accepts bribe. Man has no soul. Man’s wife is most certainly cheating on him.
If the only way to survive the apocalypse is by driving a Chevy, I’ll go ahead and die a horrible, horrible death, thank you.
So there it is. Now you’ll feel more intelligent discussing the Superbowl commercials with your co-workers around the Espresso machine. Even though you’re not. Because you probably pronounce it “expresso.”