One of the highlights of the advertising calendar is the release of the latest Stella Artois television commercial.
Every year, Stella brings out a new spot, invariably set in late 19th or early 20th century Europe and always, without exception, completely in French.
Now, I don't understand a word of
any of these beautifully produced commercials, yet I understand them totally.
When the dying old man asks his son for something, I've got no idea what he's talking about, but I figure it out. The commercial has captivated and engaged me enough to want to work it out.
Now compare this principle with the locally made new spot for Telecom's 3G technology.
It is set in New Zealand and features Kiwi kids who speak English. Yet I don't understand a word of it.
And because I don't understand a word of it, I don't want to understand any of it.
I've seen it three times now and there's a young girl who tells me I'm a mother if I don't get a mobile, a boy who says something about being faster (downloads?) and another who asks me if I'm with them.
"With what?" I ask.
I know it's about Telecom's 3G technology because of the graphic at the end and I get that it's supposed to be a big thing.
The loud, dramatic British Airways-like opera piece and the chopper shot of city streets full of fans tells me this is a big commercial for a big product. Big Deal.
I get the next generation metaphor with the kids but what the hell does it do? I don't understand a word they say and, unlike the Stella commercials, it just ain't interesting enough to work out.
All I do know is that my 11-year-old son, who also doesn't understand the kidspeak despite being one himself, thinks I'm the meanest father on the planet for not having bought him the mobile phone every other kid in Auckland obviously already owns. "C'est la vie."
* Formerly a creative director at advertising firm Young & Rubicam, Gordon Clarke is now a director of independent creative consultancy, Booster.
