Another Super Bowl, another slew of ads. It’s become a predictable–perhaps, at this point, even rote–occasion: A volley of commercials insinuate themselves into our homes, packaged in either tidily clever trappings or whimsically left-field vignettes, that have less to do with selling the items than justifying the need to celebrate them. Super Bowl ads are often more eagerly anticipated than the 60 minutes of gameplay stringing them together like trinkets on a bracelet. They’re often admired for their ability to distract, whet or surprise.
But every once in a while, an ad comes along that doesn’t just stop the game, it changes the game. It happened in 1984, when Apple hired Blade Runner director Ridley Scott to shatter perceptions (both literally and figuratively) of personal computing. It happened in 1993, when McDonalds benefitted from basketball legends Michael Jordan and Larry Bird challenging each other to sink utterly implausible baskets (off the scoreboard; from the Hancock Building; over the river: “nothing but net”) to score a burger. It happened with Clara Peller’s t-shirt-slogan-in-the-making “Where’s the beef?” and it continued with a trio of frogs croaking their love for Budweiser in concert.
This year another advertisement entered a crowded field, without pomp but predicated on real-world circumstance–Chrysler’s “Halftime in America,” featuring a weathered but resolute Clint Eastwood. He isn’t exactly selling anything in the spot, which is filmed to resemble a political ad if it were produced by Paul Haggis (Eastwood’s collaborator on Million Dollar Baby and the director of Crash). Instead, he aims to jolt, then scold, but ultimately soothe the viewer. First seen walking from the shadows of a hazy football game, he hunches his shoulders walks with a tired grace. Speaking in a voice so gravelly you could walk across it, he declaims that the American auto industry’s primary focus has been compromised by the “fog, division, discord and blame,” but America “knows how to come from behind to win.”
The narration baldly but earnestly offers a commentary on the notion of halftime representing a rebirth not just for athletes, but for John Q’s, the American economy and the city of Detroit. Although Chrysler isn’t mentioned in his speech–which accompanies a montage of faces, flags, factories and automotive products–the evocation is clear and packs a wallop.
Also, it’s difficult to not be reminded of President Reagan’s “Morning Again in America” commercial. Here’s the text from the Chrysler ad:
This country can’t be knocked out with one punch. We get right back up again, and when we do the world is going to hear the roar of our engines. Ya, it’s halftime in America, and our second half is about to begin.
And here’s a snippet of Reagan’s 1984 political ad, which was narrated against a similar montage of men and women going to work:
Today more men and women will go to work than ever before in our country’s history…It’s morning again in America, and under the leadership of President Reagan, our country is prouder and stronger and better.
The recession of 2007-2009 threw Motor City’s economy into tumult; the jobless rate peaked at 16.6 percent in July of 2009. Today it is 9.7 percent. “They almost lost everything,” Eastwood growls. “But we all pulled together. Now Motor City is fighting again.”
It was a bold move for the car maker to not feature its product line during the two-minute spot, but it resonated all the more because of it. Eastwood represents Hollywood, another made-in-the-U-S-A industry, and has been a seminal actor and director for five decades. His most recent role (and his last, according to interviews) was in a film about a retired car factory worker in Detroit. It could have been a controversial move, too politically charged for prime time sports, somber even. But there was hope scattered among the physical flotsam of metal and welding sparks, and hidden beneath the harsh tones. It was an ad that did something a little different than suggest one buy a product; it depicted the history, the present state and the possible future for, a country that experienced a mechanical renaissance partly forged by it.