Truth is found in details. A story is a just a story—it’s the smallest touches that bring it to life and make it real. So when a commercial features a golf cart flying above a putting green, the path to suspending your audience’s disbelief is in the little things—like actually jumping the cart instead of relying on today’s sophisticated compositing technology.
"We did a lot of research about different ways in which to fly a golf cart," explained Jonathan Dayton, who, with his partner Valerie Faris, directs through bicoastal Bob Industries. "Doing it on cables or on a track was discussed. But one of the stunt people we met with said, ‘Hey, just get a souped-up engine in one of those things and I can jump it.’ So we said, ‘OK.’ Everyone on the team agreed that it is always better to do it for real."
"Golf" begins with a static shot of a golfer lining up a putt for birdie. The graphic in the upper left corner tells us his name is Nicholson and he is currently playing at seven under par. Judging by the silence of the gallery and the close attention of a second golfer in the background, this is clearly a critical putt. Nearly six seconds pass before a whining buzz is faintly heard and progressively gets louder. As the whine hits its highest pitch, a golf cart carrying two passengers enters the frame nearly 12 feet in the air—soaring over the scene on the putting green. The caddies, the second golfer and the gallery all watch in stunned amazement as the cart sails from the right side of the screen to the left.
But the landing isn’t pretty. But that’s also part of making the spot believable.
On the far side of the putting surface, the cart lands front first and violently rolls end-over-end. Chunks of sod are kicked up and pieces of the cart tear away as it finishes its second roll. Again, the cart hits head first and hard—tumbling more violently than the first time. Golf clubs in bags at the rear explode into the air and scatter all around as the nearly destroyed vehicle enters its third and final flip.
Miraculously the cart lands right-side-up, and for the first time we see the faces of our daredevils—one of whom looks remarkably like professional golfer Craig Stadler. They turn to each other, obviously in a state of shock—faces slack, eyes glazed—then erupt into a victorious battle cry, having landed the impossible jump and satiated their adolescent itch. The gallery bursts into cheers and one caddy casually says to another, "Nice shot." The putter, his ball unmoved, looks to his golfing partner for insight into the crowd reaction; the partner gives a nod in the direction of the victorious scene. Still not quite getting it, the putter looks over to see the two men exiting the cart and taking their bows. The voiceover concludes, "Everybody’s got a little Diet Dew in them … so don’t hold back."
The :30 "Golf" is part of a relaunch for Pepsi’s Diet Mountain Dew, seeking to target an older audience than that of its sugary sister. However, as with regular Mountain Dew, the client wants the diet version to be associated with people’s more daring sides. Rather than using young people’s natural exuberance and participation in extreme sports to communicate the spirit of the soft drink, Diet Mountain Dew looks to identify with the "inner teen" of a slightly older crowd. "When people are young, they have this irreverent, exhilarating spirit within them," noted Bill Bruce, executive creative director at BBDO New York and the copywriter on "Golf," "but as you get older, you either hang onto it or you lose it. The people who are not holding back in life have what we call ‘a little Diet Dew’ in them."
Golf was targeted as the setting because of what it represents and, of course, for the fun carts. "Golf seems like fertile territory since it is a sport that you get into later in life," continued Bruce. "And the best thing about golf from a non-golfer’s point of view is the golf carts. We thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be cool if you could really jump one?’ So it was just a matter of setting the stage of stoic traditional golf with all its self-importance, and taking a whack at that."
"Setting the stage" meant opening the spot with over five seconds of pure waiting. "[Five seconds of commercial time] is an eternity," Dayton remarked. "I really credit Bill for that. He was really eager to push it—just to sit on that shot and make you wonder, ‘What is this?’ In the end, it allowed for a bigger impact, a bigger escalation."
"It was actually longer at one point, but the client also felt it was an eternity," recalled Bruce with a laugh. "The response when it is a touch longer is, you start to lose patience. For me, I love it. There are two schools of thought on that: Hopefully, you draw people in who ask, ‘What the hell am I watching, and why am I watching it?’ The pessimist side is, the viewer will flip to something else. But the optimist side, to me, is that they will be much more captivated by what follows."
Most commercials set the scene in two seconds and are pushing the envelope at three. The extra seconds serve to throw off the audience. "At this point we are so familiar with the rhythms of modern commercial storytelling, it is really fun when you can mess with that," Dayton commented. "The challenge was to reduce expectations of anything strange happening, and then clobber them with this really crazy stunt. After that, the challenge was to make the stunt as powerful as possible."
Dayton and Faris do not have any prior experience with stunts, but were very interested in demonstrating an ability to handle that aspect of production. This, along with a strong adherence to realism, was part of the impetus behind the decision to actually jump the cart with live stuntmen inside. To do this they secured Mic Rodgers, the stunt coordinator for feature films like Lethal Weapon and Die Hard. "[His team of stuntmen] are complete pros, and they don’t do anything for the thrill of it," observed BBDO executive producer Hyatt Choate. "It is a business to them, and they are not into it to get their jollies." But just a breath later, Choate admitted how much they wanted to jump the cart. "They were fighting over it. Once they figured out [the cart] could go fifty miles an hour, they were like, ‘Yeah, I want to do that.’ For other Mountain Dew spots we have jumped cars one hundred, forty-five feet, and there wasn’t the same enthusiasm or excitement among the stunt people as there was to jump this golf cart. It was really great to see the excitement—especially from these seasoned stuntmen."
Again in the name of realism, the actual stuntmen who jumped the carts are the same men who take their bows at the end of the spot. "It is hard to find stunt guys who can act," explained Bruce, "but they just brought the right enthusiasm—and it was definitely a bonus that one of them looks like Craig Stadler."
Keeping It Real
Dayton and Faris came to spot direction with a background in documentaries. That experience turned out to be intrinsic to maintaining the reality and saving "Golf" from the slippery slope of slapstick. "[Valerie and I] love comedy," declared Dayton, "but it is much more pleasurable if it feels connected to life rather than searching for the biggest inflation of a joke."
On a practical level, Dayton and Faris—who worked closely with DP Barry Peterson on the spot—had to keep a close eye on the actors and the action in "Golf" so that the action didn’t get out of hand. "To me it is a lot about the reactions of the players—keeping a lid on them. We wanted to play it more real than the regular Mountain Dew spots. It’s about keeping a lid on it." The crash itself is, in fact, a graphic scene and not your typical "plop" landing done in similar spots for comedy effect. "We had no desire to glorify this crazy, dangerous crash," said Dayton. "But it definitely was important to keep it playful and fun and real. It’s tricky finding that balance. A little of that is in the editing process. When we went to cut it, our goal was to see how spectacular we could make the tumbling before it became ridiculous."
The sound design also had to be just right—not too overstated and not too minimalist. With its assistance, the crash was shocking. "Sound design played a critical role," reported Bruce. "The sound designer we used is named François Blaignan, over at Nomad [Editing Company, Santa Monica]. He is very specific about sound and keeping that natural element. He adds a lot in the way of the thuds and crunches that keep it based in reality." Dayton added, "It was in the sound that the reality was maintained."
In the end, "Golf" is a commercial about walking lines—the line between silly and real, the line between real and violent, and the line between funny and goofy. "That’s why you do things for real," said Choate. "You have to play them straight-faced. And when you do that, hopefully you don’t cross the line. It’s good to see the results because we go to great lengths—like jumping carts over 100-year-old greens. That’s when you know it was worth the risk."
