Many years ago, in a place far removed from reality, a high-level marketing person decided what all of us were going to see whenever we had the misfortune to watch a corporate video. And so it came to pass that these became hideously long, insensitive assaults on one’s intelligence—unwatchable even by the perpetrator’s own mother, is a phrase that comes to mind.
Clunky, jargon-filled dialogue that no real person in his or her right mind would ever say. Endless repetition, as if in fear that the audience might be sleeping its way through the movie. Which was entirely understandable. Then with the advent of MTV came quick-cut montages with graphics, stuttering video and roaringly moronic needle drops.
But what with the march of progress being inexorable and all, this began to change during the last few years. Possibly because corporate clients finally wised up, or perhaps because they realized that the valuable audience of customers and prospects for these epic productions could care less. And so the corporate video started getting shorter—partly because of budgetary constraints, but also because no one seemed all that interested in a nine-minute data download on this year’s floor wax. Or on next year’s operating system. Quite literally, the investment was going down the tube.
I’d like to think the real reason was that clients, knowingly or not, discovered the optimal utilization of the visual medium is to create an impression, to communicate a single selling idea. And not to convey reams of data. That’s what print is for. Or the web. Or anything but that precious bit of time in front of a television screen, be it in a conference room or on the floor of a trade show.
In any case, enter the :30 or :60 non-commercial commercial. It can start up a sales meeting with a laugh. It can take the edge off a customer visit. It can reinforce a product or corporate positioning concisely. It can play on the Web site. And it comes to viewers in a structure that everyone understands—one that all of us grew up with and can relate to. Done well, it can be the apex of storytelling, succinct and to the point.
I recently had the experience of shooting one of these. The client was Sybase, a software company out of Emeryville, Calif. The firm sponsors a men’s professional tennis tournament every year, and wanted some sort of corporate messaging to play on the JumboTron at the San Jose Arena, site of the tournament.
It could have been dreadful—some talking executive head deathlessly droning on about the glories of Sybase. Instead, and due in no small degree to the efforts of the communications firm hired by Sybase, we came up with something else: Something different, something very much like a commercial.
The :60 piece opens with two men on either side of a tennis net, situated on a white limbo set. Instead of sporting the usual tennis gear, they’re seated at desks with laptop computers. They begin playing a game of virtual tennis via their computers—presumably using their Sybase software. As they battle each other with their mouses and keystrokes, images from previous Sybase Opens appear on their computer screens. It all builds to a big finish, with a logo and a funny little button at the end.
Nice spot for a project that wasn’t really a spot. But then, who’s counting? We shot it on film; we worked with a couple of top local SAG actors; we got a great score from one of my favorite composers. And not one word about a "value proposition" or "world-class software" was heard emanating from the actors’ lips.
When my reps bring me spot boards, I’m always ready to oblige with a bid. And if we’re awarded the project, I’m a happy guy. Advertising is what I do. But something about this non-commercial commercial idea intrigues me. Something about the blending of the genres: Advertising and corporate, two heretofore immutable worlds colliding. It’s kind of nice to imagine oneself on the leading edge of something new. And perhaps more to the point, it’s even nicer to find an entirely new way to keep working with the form I love.
