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It all began with the decision to make a television commercial of a
large luxury sedan. It was a beautiful automobile but today, it would
be pounded to a pulp by tree huggers with sledge hammers, the handles
of which would all be made of wood. The problem that people nowadays
have with such an automobile is that it achieved at least six miles to
the gallon on the highway. Those were the days my friend. So far, so good. The product was pure elegance. Even a trained gibbon with an eight millimeter movie camera could not have made this car look ugly. Without a doubt, this commercial would be gorgeous; the agency would proudly display it on its demo reel; the client would sell plenty of cars in spite of the salesmen with powder blue jackets, plaid pants and beautifully matching white shoes and belts; everyone would be happy; the bill might even be paid; there was not a cloud on the creative horizon. Then, a huge mistake was made. The agency hired a director from Europe to make the commercial “come to life.” No one saw the thunderheads forming in the distance. Hopes were high and hearts were happy. The creative meeting went this way: The director laid out the plan in his best patronizing tone and with an accent that could be turned on and off at will depend whose hand, or other anatomical region, he was kissing. Zo, we open ze commayrshal wiz a byoodifool shoot of a condor in flight, no?” From this point on, everything went to hell in a hand basket. One of the creative staff offered to obtain some stock footage from the bureau of tourism and wildlife including condors, or whatever government department might have spent thirty or forty thousand dollars getting the required six seconds of film. Oh no. That was not nearly good enough for the director. He announced to all and sundry that they would get the shot themselves. No stock footage for him. After all, this wasn’t just advertising, this was ART! He then picked the camera crew and believe it or not, added a sound man to try to record the flapping of condor wings “on the fly.” He then flew them all to Brazil, rented a fixed wing aircraft and once they were airborne told the pilot to “Fly into ze mountains and find us un condor pour le commayrsee-al.” The pilot respectfully informed him that the condors were usually in Argentina at this time of year. No problem. The whole crew then flew to Argentina and with the not-too-productive help of a pilot who hated Gringos and made no secret of it, scoured the unfriendly Argentinean heavens for almost two weeks with not even a glimpse of one of the majestic rulers of the skies. They did see several vultures and a couple of eagles, but “so sorry senor,” no condors. Continued On Next Page (How to make a commercial, Page 2) ... AUTHOR: Dave Foreman  TAGS: Life air plane Art Movie government Family advertising ad-man BOOKMARK: Digg it | Add to Del.ICIO | Add to FARK ACTIONS: Comment Save Print Register free acount 
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