Let's face it: The year hasn't been great for men or women, in politics or advertising. Throughout this election period, we've seen the return of time-worn gender stereotypes and divides as we attempt to lift the lid on old bro-dom, which is a stubborn institution. It awakens fury on both sides.
Did you ever consider how much viewers, now stuck observing the final stretch (and stench) of this mightily dispiriting election on TV, might appreciate the occasional smile that a clever and surprising commercial could bring?
Though Donald Trump has repeatedly and publicly spurned the idea of "debate prep" as something weak that only a corrupt, upper-crusty woman who needs naps would indulge in, something changed by the third debate. That's when it became clear that the Republican nominee must have indeed done some prep work, because he clearly benefited from it.
"Why is Trump running commercials on CNN?" a friend asked me a couple of days ago. I wouldn't presume to speak for the Republican Presidential contender's media buying strategy, but my first guess was that his camp was running negative ads about Hillary on CNN for the same reason that every political campaign runs negative ads: because they work.
Donald Trump appeared offended by the notion that anyone might think his appearance at a town hall in New Hampshire was in any way preparation for the next debate. He seemed to react to the very idea of "preparation" as if it were somehow weak, female, and had cooties.
"Bias is in the air you breathe," according to a new book. So how can the ad biz fight against it?
He has weird, wayward hair, a bottomless need for attention, and lives to be politically incorrect. So in some ways, even more than as the host of his "Between Two Ferns" show on Funnyordie.com, Zach Galifianakis could also perhaps stand in for Hillary Clinton's opponent in debate prep.
"Should I do it?" "Should I do it?" "Yes, yes," the TV audience responded, as the Republican contender for President waved the crisp white papers holding his medical information over his head.
"Forget all those variations on tiresome aviation ad cliches like offers of extra leg room or better WiFi," said the CMO of American Airlines in my mind, in a statement that I am making up.
This summer, as the movie industry stumbles, suffering from a very painful case of "sequelitis," and "A Star is Born" (the fourth version) and "Groundhog Day" (the movie) are adapted for Broadway, it's clear that Groundhog Day-like reboots are increasingly replacing that much riskier notion: the idea of funding, nurturing, and believing in a (choke) completely original concept.