By Millie Takaki
In the world of high-tech toys, how does one promote the virtues of a teddy bear that makes a noise when you press on its belly? That’s the challenge that has been more than met by Paris agency ENJOY Scher Lafarge for its client, Grumly the bear, from the Jemini toy company. In a series of :10s, Grumly is infused with a personality, and his squeaky grunt conveys varied messages appropriate to the situations.
Grumly rings a security system doorbell to gain entry into an apartment building. When he’s asked to identify himself, Grumly "speaks" when a human hand squeezes his tummy. A French-speaking voiceover, translated into English, explains that Grumly is "the bear who doesn’t like to pronounce his name."
In another spot, Grumly is seen lying on a sidewalk, grunting whenever human shoes pass by a banana peel. A voiceover says that Grumly is "the bear who warns you when an accident is about to happen."
Grumly isn’t always so civic-minded, however. He also has a mischievous streak, demonstrated in a :10 in which he sneaks behind a boy and dunks the youngster’s face into a dish of chocolate pudding. Squeaking all the while, Grumly is "the bear that makes cheap jokes."
And in another quick-hit ad, Grumly is at a carwash where he’s grunting feverishly. A voiceover notes that Grumly is "the bear that remembers that he forgot to pull down the car’s radio antenna."
The campaign—consisting of 25 :10’s—was directed by Christophe Caubel of Premiere Heure, Paris. The agency contingent included creative director Gilbert Scher, copywriter Jean-Gabriel Causse and art director Jean-Marc Lamblin.
Premiere Heure also provided editorial services with an ensemble consisting of editor Benjamin Favreul, the mono-monikered James as graphic artist, and post producer Gregory Panteix.
Sound designers/mixers were Marc Miller and Sevan Bolikian of Macadam, Paris.
The campaign broke in late October on French TV and cable channels.
Review: Writer-Director Adam Elliot’s “Memoir of a Snail”
It's not your typical stop-motion film when characters name pets after Sylvia Plath and read "The Diary of Anne Frank" — or when the story's inspired by a quote from existentialist thinker Søren Kierkegaard. And it's certainly not your typical stop-motion film when you find yourself crying as much as the characters do — in their case, with huge droplets leaking from bulging, egg-shaped eyes so authentic-looking, you expect the screen to get wet. But those are just a few of the unique things about Adam Elliot's "Memoir of a Snail," a film that's as heart-tugging as it is technically impressive, a work of both emotional resonance and great physical detail using only clay, wire, paper and paint. One thing Elliot's film is not, though, is for kids. So please take note before heading to the multiplex with family in tow: this film earns its R rating, as you'll discover as soon as young Grace, voiced by Sarah Snook, tells us she thought masturbation was about chewing your food properly. Sex, nudity, drunk driving, a fat fetish — like we said, it's R-rated for a reason. But let's start at the beginning. In this, his seventh "clayography" (for "clay" and "biography"), the Australian writer-director explores the process of collecting unnecessary objects. Otherwise known as hoarding, it's something that weighs us down in ways we can't see, for all the clutter. Elliot also argues that it helps us build constrictive shells around ourselves — like snail shells, perhaps. Our protagonist is Grace Pudel, voiced with a quirky warmth and plenty of empathy by the wonderfully agile Snook. We first encounter Grace as a grown woman, telling her long, lonely life story to her pet garden snail, Sylvia (named after Plath), at a moment of deep sadness. Then we flash... Read More