I’ll start by admitting I am a Bud Light drinker. It’s the first beer I drank (as a legal adult, of course) and through the years it has been my default setting. I know, I know. If you’re a beer drinker in 2013 who is drinking a cheap domestic you’re likely to be shamed into isolation by the increasing number of beer snobs who would rather feel death’s cold grip than be caught dead drinking that piss.
I disagree. I want my beer cheap. I don’t care about its “notes” or “potential food pairings.” I want to drink mass quantities and I want to get bent.
My loyalty to Bud Light and beers of the like (I’m staring at you, Silver Bullet) has been tested through the years with their ongoing atrocious series of ad campaigns. I will mostly consume these commercials while watching a live sporting event and I watch a lot of live sporting events.
I get who these ads are targeting. I’m not Don Draper, but I can understand why Anheuser Busch or Pete Coors would appeal to the lowest common denominator and make it magically appear as if cracking open a cold one will drastically improve the drinker’s life, transport them to some kind of tundra/beach/urban landscape hybrid, or even allow them to party with international pop superstar Pitbull. Dalé!
This is why I’m at a loss as to one of Bud Light’s latest offerings in their seemingly eternal “Here We Go” campaign. Ripe for a complete deconstruction, I invite you to try and decipher what exactly is happening for the following 30 seconds.
:02-It’s mandatory for beer commercials to show a can being cracked or a bottle being tapped within the framework of the ad. The standard ‘pshht’ sound effect signals that something remarkable is about to happen. History has taught us that bikini babes jiggling or muscular dudes frolicking on a beach follow this sound effect. However, at :03, immediately following that Pavlovian sound…
:05-Urkel reminisces about “…all the parties, the stories!” What kind of parties? Tupperware? D&D? Stories? What, like Harry Potter? I’m skeptical.
:08-“I’m going to miss your smell.” Almost one third of the way through the commercial and we, the viewer, are still left wondering what these three losers are paying tribute to. I’m going to miss your smell? Who says that? This line hits you in the face like a left cross from Floyd Mayweather. In fact, at this point of the ad, for all we know they could be paying tribute to FLOYD MAYWEATHER! (I assume he smells awful.)
:10-“You were my first” is uttered by our bikini-less female lead. Holy shit, is Floyd Mayweather deflowering young, moderately attractive white women?! (I assume the answer is yes.)
:11-:13-Guitar bro can’t believe his innocent friend would let Floyd Mayweather bang her. Meanwhile, Urkel plays coy. As if any young, moderately attractive white woman can resist the temptations of Floyd Mayweather. “It’s true,” our proud trollop admits and it is at this point where I have to know WTF IS GOING ON WITH THESE 3 CLOWNSHOES HOLDING THEIR BUD LIGHTS IN THE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION EVER FILMED?
A couch? A fucking couch? How is patented leather supposed to make me want to drink more beer? Could Floyd Mayweather have been at least lying down on the couch? Shit, even Miller Lite got that Asian spare from The Hangover movies to make a cameo in their campaign. Jesus, I’m disappointed.
:18-Guitar bro wrote a song for the couch in an obvious attempt to impress his female friend. He’s so sensitive! Such a talent! (Get out the moisturizing lotion, bro.) If he’s going to “miss the smell” of that STD vessel and he’s trying this hard to impress a 4, his talent and judgement are in serious question.
:21-Before this potential gang bang gets any more awkward, the actual men in the room subtly remind these selfish assholes that THEY’RE HOLDING A NEW COUCH AND HAVE YOU EVER LIFTED A COUCH I’M GUESSING NO BASED ON HOW THIS PLACE IS DECORATED AND THE FACT YOU’RE GETTING SENTIMENTAL OVER A SEMEN STAINED RELIC FROM THE CARTER ADMINISTRATION AND MAN THIS COUCH IS HEAVY SHUT UP AND TELL US WHERE YOU WANT IT.
:27-This is a joke, right? Another group of hipster-wannabes have spotted our DNA caravan? And they’re actually interested in it? (Granted, the old couch may taste better than that case he’s holding under his arm.)
And so a couch, the star of this commercial, will live to see another day of direct flatulence into its cushions, dried boogers under the arm rest, and a moderately attractive white woman getting her ass plowed like a cabbage field by Floyd Mayweather.
HERE WE GO! *raises Bud Light bottle*