I happened to watch this new commercial of Vodafone (Busy Message Tune) and I was bowled over. Completely. So much so that I decided to write a blog on it.
The advert starts with "I am taking....a shower....I am riding...in traffic" and when I first watched it, I wondered what it was. Until the Vodafone artwork showed up, I had no clue what was in store. The fact that one doesn't know what is being sold but is still mesmerized for full 45 seconds, is something to be acknowledged for.
Vodafone (or should I say Ogilvy India) has done it time and again. Be it the cute little pug, everyday i want to fly.. jingle, the cute little pug + cute little girl combo, or the unforgattable ZooZoos, Vodafone commercials are a living testimony to the fact that a)simplicity sells and b)talent trumps the 'celebrity status-quo'.
And, they are at their very best again. The new advert is a delight to the senses; great music and an equally good direction. Use of normal people with normal (read: unpleasant) voices makes the advert resonate with audiences at a much deeper level. Listening to such voices on the screen doesn't inhibit them from singing it aloud in public, which actually helps the brand spread virally among the masses.
Overall, it's a terrific advert. Take a look:
Friday 21 August 2009
Tuesday 4 August 2009
enimulli....
I saw a ship, a beautiful ship sailing by. One of my best friends had recently boarded that ship and told me how good it was - sailing towards an exotic destination along with a fantastic crew.
I, for one, until that time was busy building my own motorboat and decided never to board a ship again. However, circumstances forced me to board one, and quite influenced by my good friend, I jumped in.
I was given a job on the floor, and it was all well for a month. Until I started to stare deep inside. And voila, what did I discover: the ship was sailing without an engine. It did have a steering, but our captain just pretended to be driving an engineering masterpiece. All he did was give some instructions, to a dubious religious clan of people dressed in yellow and orange who were 'paddling' the ship forward.
The clan of paddlers also acted as fishermen who would barge into neighboring seas and steal food for the ship, and were paid in kind for their faithful act by the crew (some of them even had been noticed to lay down on floors to offer their services, besides listening to their crap). So the ship was rich, which means that they could easily afford an engine, but the captain didn't prefer to.
The captain believes he is supreme. (A little fact to prove this: his initials are VS, but he signs off the opposite on account of resonance with Swami Vivekananda's initials. Pity.) He likes to be surrounded by a group of loyal crew members who testify at least a hundred times in one day that he, indeed, is supreme and his ideas can change the face of humanity. Pity again.
The captain fears that the day he installs an engine in the ship, he might loose control over his ship; never mind if its for better. He believes in creating a vision for a destination which is as exotic as the birds of paradise; never mind if the crew has their own aspirations as well.
This beautiful ship doesn't have a hole. But having no engine is deadlier, for you don't want to spend a considerable amount of time on a journey and come back empty handed (I was lucky to find a good friend, at least). You need to dive off such a ship and find another which is headed to a destination, which even if not projected to be exotic, but is believable still. More importantly, a ship which draws its strengths from a great captain, great crew and great work.
I can think of only two words to end this - enimulli....beware/dive
I, for one, until that time was busy building my own motorboat and decided never to board a ship again. However, circumstances forced me to board one, and quite influenced by my good friend, I jumped in.
I was given a job on the floor, and it was all well for a month. Until I started to stare deep inside. And voila, what did I discover: the ship was sailing without an engine. It did have a steering, but our captain just pretended to be driving an engineering masterpiece. All he did was give some instructions, to a dubious religious clan of people dressed in yellow and orange who were 'paddling' the ship forward.
The clan of paddlers also acted as fishermen who would barge into neighboring seas and steal food for the ship, and were paid in kind for their faithful act by the crew (some of them even had been noticed to lay down on floors to offer their services, besides listening to their crap). So the ship was rich, which means that they could easily afford an engine, but the captain didn't prefer to.
The captain believes he is supreme. (A little fact to prove this: his initials are VS, but he signs off the opposite on account of resonance with Swami Vivekananda's initials. Pity.) He likes to be surrounded by a group of loyal crew members who testify at least a hundred times in one day that he, indeed, is supreme and his ideas can change the face of humanity. Pity again.
The captain fears that the day he installs an engine in the ship, he might loose control over his ship; never mind if its for better. He believes in creating a vision for a destination which is as exotic as the birds of paradise; never mind if the crew has their own aspirations as well.
This beautiful ship doesn't have a hole. But having no engine is deadlier, for you don't want to spend a considerable amount of time on a journey and come back empty handed (I was lucky to find a good friend, at least). You need to dive off such a ship and find another which is headed to a destination, which even if not projected to be exotic, but is believable still. More importantly, a ship which draws its strengths from a great captain, great crew and great work.
I can think of only two words to end this - enimulli....beware/dive
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)