Barbara Lippert's Critique: The Chill Is Gone

In movies and commercials, it's a truth universally acknowledged that remakes stink: It's always better to come up with an original idea. (That's why the word eureka! was invented.) But in deciding to remake its iconic 1971 "Hilltop" spot, it would seem that Coke at least brought the mountain to the right place: to Crispin Porter + Bogusky, universally acknowledged to have done some hilariously inventive work for Burger King, starting with reviving the '70s tagline "Have it your way." Like Coke, the No. 2 fast-food purveyor had been dallying with many agencies and been all over the place in terms of strategy. BK settled down with CP+B and found creative success with office geeks. Here's the difference: The switched-on version of "Have it your way" was only the tip of a wide-ranging and, dare we say, holistic BK campaign that included everything from a redesign of the food wrappers to unpredictably varied commercials (including a hallucinogenic use of Darius Rucker and a haystack) to the wacked-out Subservient Chicken Web site. This Coke work is a remake of a single spot, plus a Web site. Still, what we've got here is more like Subservient Chillin'. It's not a terrible spot, but given the agency and the power of the original ad, it lives in some safe but compromised middle ground: not quite edgy enough to be a breakout hit among the youngins who weren't even born in 1971, not quite emotional and nostalgic enough to extract a tear from the aging eyes of baby boomers. It seems strained and inauthentic, lacking the humor and innovation we've come to expect from CP+B.There are some positive things: It's a good-looking group, and I like the idea of moving the location to an urban rooftop in Philadelphia (the land of independence). It's nicely shot, and has some interesting cuts to a flock of flying birds and the gilded towers in the distance. Still, "Chilltop"'s sense of identity at times seems as shaky as the camerawork. Conceptually, it's clever to go from hill to chill, but the word itself seems forced, and the idea of chill has an all-around dampening effect. When the rooftop group started singing, "I'd like to teach the world to chill," I got a chill. We were only a few seconds in, and already it seemed to be verging on Christopher Guest territory —making fun of some sort of faux urban hipster funk/folk revival. But since there's no such movement to revive (or make fun of), and since the washed-out sepia tone has an elevated look, within a few bars it becomes clear that the spot is not a deadpan parody. But it has trouble getting off the ground. While the original, for "The Real Thing," was huge, exuberant and celebratory, "Chilltop" is necessarily smaller, quieter and more internalized. Maybe that's why the rooftop seems a little underpopulated. And speaking of population, one reason the original hit such a nerve was its daring depiction of global diversity. Yes, young people of many nations standing in rows wearing their native costumes seems corny now, but in 1971 it was an enormous breakthrough. No viewer had seen, for example, a Finn standing next to a Nigerian standing next to a Japanese person, all singing together in a commercial. For that matter, African Americans and Asian Americans rarely saw themselves in ads. Now, of course, diversity is the norm, and we've grown used to Benetton Nation-ish groupings. That's why it's so odd that the group here seems mainly white. There are two versions of "Chilltop." The longer one features the main man, G-Love (his actual name), mixing some rap into the original rhythmic ditty. I'm certainly not what you call a chill individual, and I'm way beyond the demo, so I asked my 15-year-old son for his opinion. "It gets better in the longer version, when the guy starts rapping to the beat, doesn't it?" I asked, leadingly. "No, it's worse," he said, "'cause the guy is white." (A beat for effect.) "And he's playing a banjo." (The instrument actually appears to be an acoustic guitar with some fancy metal work.) The bigger mystery is what the spot is selling. While I like that it's not aggressive, and it's meant to be entertainment (although a bit stiff and overly reverent at that), the product needs an introduction. Why use a remake of a famous old commercial to launch a new product? That's confusing. What is this Coke Zero? Does it make you want to go up to a rooftop and raise your bottle and sing? As someone who keeps trying to quit drinking Diet Coke, I've sampled Coke Zero, and it does taste great. The name is unfortunate. Forgetting the link to Ground Zero, zero connotes zip, nada, bupkis, rien— plenty o' nothing. Ironically, this actually has something—great taste, zero calories. In 1971, we were a country divided over a war for which we had no exit strategy, we had a president who seemed secretive and imperious, and halter-tops and shag haircuts and carpets were big. In that way, times haven't changed. Of course we could all still use an upbeat, kumbaya cultural moment, even if it's in a Coke commercial. I like the phrase, "Everybody chill." But no 60-second spot will have the impact it did back then. It's a nice try, but "Chilltop" seems more about the Coke's own nostalgia for its past marketing triumphs (and times of harmony) than in teaching the world much. In the end, chill feels warmed-over.Coca-cola AgencyCrispin Porter + Bogusky, MiamiExecutive creative director Alex BoguskyCreative director Andrew KellerAssociate creative director Dave SchiffCopywriter Rob StrasbergArt director James Dawson-HollisAgency exec. producersRupert Samuel, Dave RolfeAgency producerCorey BarthaAgency music producerBill MeadowsProduction companyRSA USA, L.A. DirectorThe Malloys Dir. of photographyCrille ForsbergProducerJim CzarneckiEditorAndre Betz, Bug Editorial

Brand Marketing

Barbara Lippert's Critique: The Chill Is Gone

Barbara Lippert

About

Subscriptions

Events

Publications

WORK SMARTER - LEARN, GROW AND BE INSPIRED.

Subscribe today!

Barbara Lippert