If we still ran the Cliff Freeman Comedy Corner, Cliff Freeman & Partners would once again be wedged in it, face to the wall and dunce cap on, with the latest hysterically overblown absurdity for Little Caesars. This one's for the Giant Caesar, a pie so big that .*.*. well, everything shinks in comparison. You'd think the overall grandness of the idea would make some self-conscious people hide for fear of having to face up to their inadequacies, and here they do. First, the big pie reduces the Grand Canyon to the size of some guy's shoe. Then two toothless cowpokes are deep in dialogue: "Whatcha eatin'?"
"Whatcha steppin' in?"
"Has to be China."
And the third deflates a 100-year-old newlywed's ego to the size of a mite as his ancient wife prefers her overendowed pizza to his bedtime companionship.
"It really drives home the point," says CD/art director David Angelo. "The only way to go is over the top." Angelo adds that his first reaction to the spot went something along the lines of, "Boy, this is wacky." Additional credits to CD/copywriter Cliff Freeman and director Mark Story of Crossroads Films.
SHOP TILL YOU DROP A TOUCHDOWN PASS
Some big brothers are watching, and "We know how you shop," as the tag goes in a diabolically clever campaign from Sausalito's Butler, Shine & Stern for the Terra Linda, Calif., Northgate Mall. Six low-budget :30s publicize each seasonal promotional period of the shopping center via quasi-store surveillance cameras (or, according to creative director Mike Shine, "a camera the size of a pocket pen on a tripod"), and sports announcer VOs that turn shopping into a series of Olympic events, backed with elevator music.
The back-to-school spot depicts a mom and her son going head to head: "Just look at the coverage mom's giving the cuffs down there! She's showing no mercy!" Another spot portrays a woman as she scopes out her new outfit in front of the mirror. With extraordinary technique, she practices her peck and tug, and tops it all off with a "wonderfully executed" cheek suck grand finale.
Instant replays and electronic chalkboard action round out the fun. Other agency credits to writer Ryan Ebner, art director Paul Renner and CD John Butler. Jonathon David of Shelter Films, New York, directed.
A face in the sun: Kirshenbaum Bond & Partners bathes in comedy for a Citibank poster campaign. Apparently, the picture card isn't about simply security anymore, it's about individuality, since you get to choose the picture! All three ads show a cardholder's face cut out of an otherwise inarguably gnarly shot, from "photos where you look great and everyone else looks tragic," says associate CD Brendon Donovan. Additional credits to CD Richard Kirshenbaum, ADs Marta Ibarrando and Jeff Curry, writer Tom Christmann and photographer Stewart Ferebee.
A car loaded with ghastly showgirls/transvestites, driven by their greasy Mafia underling of a manager, pulls into a late-night gas station, all lamenting their rejection from Spirit Mountain Casino. "Aww, Mabel, don't go wastin' your mascara," says the mob slob. "There are plenty of casinos to work in."
"Not like Spirit Mountain," she sniffles. How do you sell a casino in Oregon? It's the anti-Vegas! So goes a new campaign from Borders Perrin & Norrander/Portland that contrasts the tackiness of Las Vegas with the "coolest, classiest casino in Oregon," says art director Kent Suter.
It advertises what Spirit Mountain is not, highlighting its "Close to Portland and the farthest thing from Vegas" theme. Other spots feature a chapel of love, effeminate lion tamers and sorry Elvises. The campaign also assists in dispelling the politically hot idea that the Oregon coast is destined to contract Tropicana fever with the recent establishment of so many gambling halls, according to Suter.
Additional credits to writer Simeon Roane and CD Terry Schneider. Erich Joiner of Tool of North America directed.
A new print campaign, created by BV&K/McDonald, Milwaukee, for the Greyhound Protection League, really walks the dog. The dead dog. One even features three headless hounds, bloody neck stumps in full view, and the headline, "Now, which part of this would be considered entertainment?" It's, like, really gross. "That's the point," says writer Dan Ames. "People don't think of greyhounds as living creatures but as inanimate objects, like the mechanical rabbit they chase." The greyhound racing industry wants the general public to believe that all its dogs are adopted upon retirement, but only a very few are so lucky, says