The Definitive Super Bowl Commercials Review, part two

This ad had some intertextuality -- you wouldn't get it if you didn't remember last year's spot where the donkey earns his turn with the Clydesdales. Here, the other animals come for their turn. Of course, most of them could just swallow the donkey in one bite, but nobody mentions THAT.

So the kid hits the ball over the fence of the disagreeable neighbour. A debate ensues about how to retrieve it. The kids decide to throw a bag of Lay's potato chips ("Everyone loves Lay's." the little scamp explains, clearly showing he can lie like the best of them) over the fence, an attempt I liken to using a flagpole to go bass fishing. It's a good thing I wasn't there, or else I'd have told these kids they were goddamn idiots.

Also, I am curious to know how the kid got such a good grip on that bag with the oil-soaked fingers that result from eating Lay's potato chips.

Anyway, the kids get back their ball, their dog, a '72 Chevy Nova, and M.C. Hammer.

Clearly, The Hammer's bankruptcy filing has prevented him from purchasing any clothing since 1990. He informs the kids that "they cannot touch this." They touch it like Michael Jackson, and another incomprehensible spot ends. And without any James Earl Jones!

You're killin' me, Smalls.

I don't remember if that was the first line of Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me but it would have been an excellent one. Pestering coppers pull up on a car at Makeout Point with steamed over windows, and the muffled sounds of... Firehouse? (Friends & family, please forget that I knew that.)

So the pigs start they' hasslin' and scrufflin' and it turns out they're just bothering two stoners who are gobbling up some new Subway grilled sandwiches. Lucky for them, because after eating Subway, they're going to require immediate medical attention anyway, so it's best to keep law enforcement nearby.

Also, why are two stoners listening to Firehouse? Something tells me these guys are curious about more than just sandwiches.

This poor kid is on a date but his Pepsi bottle keeps revealing the fact he dumped some Captain Morgan in there before the date. I think the girl's dad can tell, but he remembers being young once.

Von Bondies are one of my favourite new bands. Here, their good name is thoroughly dirtied by ... you know, I don't even know what the hell this was. The kid spills a bottle of Pepsi and the CD starts skipping. I thought there might be an Ashlee Simpson reference somewhere, but then I remembered that something like that would be in a GOOD spot, not this one.

Moral of the story: a song might be the ONLY good thing you find inside a bottle of Pepsi.

So you have Vince Vaughn playing a guy who, we're told, "thinks he's black." We see him dance in a style that reminds us all that he definitely is not. (ding!)

Next, we meet the "thug gangstas" who are "rollin' on dubs" and "packin' heat" as they walk the streets in athletic jerseys (ding! ding!)

Cedric the Bemuser cracks a line that's about as funny as asking a quadruplegic to play pattycake.

...which brings us to John Travolta, who portrays a member of a secret organization that occasionally has people killed to keep them quiet. I'm not talking about Scientologists, I'm talking about the mafia. (ding!) So as a real GANGSTER he takes on the GANGSTAZ with (alluded-to but questionably) hilarious results.

The tv trailer ends with a parody of Travolta and Uma Thurman's dance scene in Pulp Fiction, but as parody is usually funny, I don't really know what to call it.

I love Vince Vaughn movies, but I'm about as excited to see this one as I am to start annual prostate exams. 

Yup, there's Mama's Boy at the supermarket, magnet action, blah blah blah. I am astounded that Jerome Bettis had anything to do with this campaign, but, then, you know what they say about Notre Dame guys.

For those who want to take chances, try new Degree For Men. It won't let you down. Unlike this spot.

Oh, and if I was a rich man, I'd make sure we never heard from Gwen Stefani again.

25 seconds later, they finally do, though I recommend they use a Steadicam next time they do cockpit filming. I guess they're alluding to Back to the Future here with the cars disappearing and the clattering of a license plate? That's supposed to be proof a car goes fast? Fuck that, my Jetta hits 88 on a daily basis out on I-275.

...a good idea executed very poorly. Also, if this guy would like to find a new job, he'd be better off looking on a real job site. Careerbuilder.com is the J.C. Penney soccer shorts of the job site world.

You can see Taco Bell ads coming from further away than Star Jones riding a giraffe while wearing a Nudie suit and a Statue of Liberty hat. Snooty guy is showing laid back guy his baseball card collection, which, for whatever reason, is entirely out of its plastic protectors and Trapper Keeper. So the third friend comes in with the new Taco Bell product, the Chicken enchilada fajita grande stuffed supreme burrito bellgrande. Or something like that.

He drops the bag, which he describes as “greasy,” (no beating around the bush on that one, Taco Bell!) right on the dude’s unprotected cards. Poor-investment-decision guy panics, but then relaxes once he gets a bite of that irresistible burrito. That, or he saw a recent issue of Beckett’s Baseball Cards Monthly and realized the burrito is worth more than his cards are. (I swear to God I saw a 1988 Donruss Gregg Jeffries card in his collection). Later some prominently-displayed Pepsi is spilled on a 1986 Topps Cecil Fielder rookie card and nobody bats an eye.

An attractive woman sits by herself at the bar, when a sleazy greaseball comes up and tries to buy her a Bud Light.

From out of nowhere, a Scottish-speaking cockatiel, cockatoo, whatever it is, shows up and beats him down. The pugilistic bird is the second-most improbable aspect of this spot (I find a chivalrous bird easier to believe than a hot woman sitting by herself at a corner bar).

Of course, the guy would have been in like Flynn if he’d offered to buy her a real beer. I hate to imagine what talking animal would have assaulted him had he suggested an Icehouse.

The Batman franchise started going downhill when they stopped using Danny Elfman’s classic music from the first film. This Batman Begins tv trailer deigns to acclimate viewers to the idea that the creepy guy from American Psycho is stepping into the shoes of the stoic Michael Keaton, the cuddly Val Kilmer, and the neighbourly George Clooney. This summer, Batman may Begin, but for most of us, it ended around 1995.

The first Super Bowl I can remember watching was 1986’ Super Bowl XX. It took place at the Superdome in New Orleans and featured the flashy Chicago Bears trouncing the pathetic New England Patriots. The Bears were everyone’s favourite, due partly to a Grammy-nominated song, The Super Bowl Shuffle. (Clearly, Grammy voters missed the truly awful music video featuring dancing by Gary “Hit Man” Fencik, setting white guys’ dancing abilities back by at least 25 years).

Three stars of that team bluntly force their way into our homes at the beginning of this spot: erection spokesman and former Bears coach Mike Ditka, quarterback Jim McMahon, and rookie defensive tackle William “The Refrigerator” Perry.

Now, I have held a grudge against the Fridge since XX, on account of his getting a TD carry but the late Walter Payton being deprived one. It’s not like it was a close game, but Sweetness was left out in the cold. Shitty thing to do to a guy with liver disease.

Anyway, these three jokers each repeat the mantra, “I am Diana Pearl.” It cycles around several times until I, the viewer, shout “I AM BORED AS SHIT.” Then, seemingly, we cut to a different ad, only to find a slow pan to Dennis Rodman in a hot tub.

I cannot think of anything more terrifying than Dennis Rodman in a hot tub. Any appetite I might have had left was decimated immediately. I missed the end of this spot as I was in the bathroom retching.

By the way, 1986’ “Bernie, Bernie” is a far superior NFL-related song than the Super Bowl Shuffle.

Oh, the “guy in his apartment trying to seduce a woman” bit. Very progressive.

First, we see the dude with the sweater wrapped around his shoulders. Either this is a “throwback” ad from Super Bowl XX or they hired a Miami University graduate for the role. Either way, he dances only marginally better than Gary Fencik and is declared “Rich, but not smooth.” Oh, so it’s another lame Amber Bock spot! Rock on!

Immediately before this break, Fox shows Jeff Gordon in a luxury box with his hot wife. The only other celebrities shown on screen before this were former presidents. Why, exactly, would they go out of their way to show someone like Jeff Gordon? Beyond that he has a hot wife?

The first spot at the half answers that question… though it created a lot more, it was so confusing. It’s a NASCAR promo, and Jeff Gordon strikes fear into pirates’ hearts by unsheathing his sword. I don’t know if that is a phallic euphemism or not, but it would explain his hot wife.

Poor Ben Roethlisberger. Not only was he unable to lead the Steelers to the Super Bowl, but he’s saddled with an inferior Miami University education and a last name that nobody can spell correctly. He sits on a nondescript beach listening to the Super Bowl, eating brie, and drinking a fine 1962 D’Laureaux. (They don’t show this part but you can just assume).

Suddenly, Joe Montana appears, trying to cheer him up, but the weight of being from Findlay , Ohio is just too much. But then the reggae band starts grooving, reminding us that "the sun will come come out tomorrow." (Clearly this is an imported band, as night has long fallen over Jamaica by the time of the football game). More NFL losers appear, including our own Bucs coach Jon Gruden, who shows his excellent parenting skills by screaming at his children, whom, I might add, look nothing like Chucky.

Daunte Culpepper makes an appearance, wearing the ice he ceremoniously ripped from that disabled kid a few days ago. Roethlisberger finally joins in and shows his best Gary Fencik moves, reminding us all he left Miami early (thus missing out on what would have been a much-needed drama class).

By now, you’re wondering what the point of this nonsense is. Well, I’m proud to inform you that there was no point, just that there will be another NFL season next year, in which every team will have a chance. (Why they show Gruden is beyond me, as there’s no way in hell the Bucs are making the playoffs anytime soon). Maybe it’s a jab at the now-defunct NHL.

Also, why Joe Montana is in this ad baffles me. Everyone else in this spot is a current NFL player or coach. He’s as out of place as Willis McGahee at a debate competition.

The gist of this Publix (a grocery store chain) ad is a little kid who wants to bake a heart-shaped Valentine's Day cake for his "special girl." Mom decides to help, even when the kid is suspiciously quiet about whom it's for. In the end, the mother realizes the cake is for the boy's true love:

Her.

Sick, Publix, just sick. You should be ashamed of yourselves.

I don't really know what the point of this was, except to mask that Ford couldn't produce their Mustang Convertibles in time, but the main question I have about this spot is, WHY THE HELL IS THERE A STOP LIGHT
IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD? From the photos, you can clearly see there is no crossroad there. Just a stoplight. In the middle of nowhere.

Huuuuuuh?