Monday, 6 February 2012

Super Bowl ads 2012 - A Trunchpolian critique

Possibly the biggest regret of my life was suggesting to Pete Rozelle over lunch back in 1966 that it might be a fun idea for the winners of the two competing American Football leagues, (the AFL and the NFL) to play a one off friendly game I affectionately called the “Super Bowl” (a rather cryptic reference to the rather delicious bowl of lobster bisque I was enjoying at the time).

Had I known that that innocuous little suggestion would lead to the multibillion dollar retinal assault that is the modern day Super Bowl, I would of course have kept my trap shut and simply finished my bisque in silence.

Well, sadly I cannot rewind time and undo my grievous mistake, so instead I will give a biting critique of the pick of this years most talked about Super Bowl advertisements.


How they got these two polar bears to act in front of camera is beyond me! I can only presume that the bear’s must have been raised in captivity and trained by the finest acting coaches from a very tender age indeed. Aside from the acting, which was wonderful, the advertisement itself left a lot to be desired. My advice to Coca-Cola? If you have the world’s finest polar bear actors at your disposal, put them to good use!

Hyundai Cheetah:

To release an advert almost perfectly recreating the circumstances surrounding the gruesome death of my good friend Nathaniel Epstein on the set of a 1961 Cheetah Spark Plugs commercial is insensitive in the extreme!


More acting animals, wonderful! Unfortunately the advert itself makes no sense at all.

Toyota camry

I think I just vomited all over my new Church’s leather brogues.


I had no idea Clint Eastwood was running for President this year. What a splendid way to launch his campaign! Clint, if I hadn’t have had my US dual citizenship revoked in 1972 you would have almost certainly been able to count on my vote.


Brilliant!! Hilarious!! I don’t get it.


Oh dear.

1 comment:

  1. Chevrolet, Chrysler, what's the difference. Either way, your tax dollars paid for that roaring engine of Clintness.