Relationships…the day after tomorrow

Some people dissect books in their blogs. Some people dissect movies. Me, I have two day jobs, so I only have the attention span to dissect TV commercials. The best television ads are incredible storytelling (witness the Best Cat Food Commercial Ever).

And then there’s this Heineken commercial that I think is called “The Entrance.” I’ve seen it several times now and…I don’t get it. It’s particularly bad when the full 92-second version is edited to fit into a 30 second time slot, because what almost made sense in context has had most of the context removed. I had to go to YouTube to find the long version so I could sort of figure out what was going on.

There’s this massive party in a ridiculously opulent mansion. Seriously, there’s a basketball court somewhere between the front door and the main staircase, according to the commercial. All kinds of seriously beautiful/seriously rich people hanging out and having a good time together.

Cue the “hot guy” who is really in need of a shave — the 5-day Quaker beard w/mustache just looks like he needs testosterone supplements, sorry — or at least a decent stylist who can make curly hair look rumpled but not lumpy.

Then we have the extended anthropological study of human male greeting rituals that become increasingly stereotypical and stupid. Finger shootout with the fat guy in the cowboy hat and Elvis sideburns, really? The vaguely menacing mafia-type in a throne/chair? Does Hot Guy always carry a dove up his sleeve and yank tablecloths off of laden sideboards? Fake martial arts arms? Please.

Then the climax: Hot Guy changes out of his black jacket into a white jacket–probably because of the dove doody up the sleeve — pulls out a…HE’S WITH THE BAND? He’s the FLAUTIST? And he’s LATE? WTB (which stands for What The [Bleep!], because I try to watch my language in the blog)?

And the band is set up on the main staircase, which I’m pretty sure violates a fire code. This is where the vein starts throbbing in my forehead and, if it’s a paper book, I throw it across the room.

But wait, there’s this dedicated server with a silver tray and a bottle of Heineken chasing Hot Guy all over the place, even magically obtaining a second bottle when Hot Guy gives away the first one to his back-flipping martial arts buddy (who is East Asian, of course, because ripped shirtless martial arts guys are always East Asian, aren’t they?).

The server is an older guy, with wrinkles, and what hair he has left is gray, but he keeps up with Hot Guy all the way through the crowd and weirdity. And when the flute solo is done, he’s right there with the beer. Even Hot Guy is impressed.

Okay. Cutting through the stereotypes, the sensationalism and the general weirdness (surreality?), what’s the story? No matter how freaky your party is, your dedicated bar personnel will make sure your quality beer arrives right on time. Yup, the waiter is our hero.

And there you have it; a weak, confused story camouflaged with special effects and a buried hero. As far as I’m concerned, the best part of the commercial is the song (Golden Age, by Asteroid Galaxy Tour).

Good song. I understand it’s good beer, too, but I have problems with gluetn gluten (see, I can’t even spell it right on the first try) so I can’t drink beer. The ad…well, it’s not horrible, particularly compared to the Most Interesting Man in the World ads, but it could be better.