Sometimes you find something that makes no sense whatsoever. More often than not, it’s a perfume ad. This one’s a car ad from Japan – though of course there’s the language barrier – which just leaves me a bit baffled. There’s no chance these people are lip-syncing to the music so it’s just a bizarre collection of gestures soundtracked by 80’s cheese:
But then, even in English I’m at a loss to explain this advert for the same car:
I took a testdrive in a new Suzuki Alto in Sussex not so long ago – well, I say that, I sat in the back while my partner took a tesdrive in the Alto – and she found it a doddle to park. Though perhaps that’s the joke. Everybody and his brother says small cars are great to park and maybe Suzuki are trying to get away from this being its only use… I don’t know, but it’s really not selling it to me.
Toyota seem to have lost their power lately. While the pursuit of the hybrid technology is all well and good but this company once made three great coupe / sports cars – the mighty MR2, the Celica and the much-missed Supra.
Now, there’s always rumours of former great cars making a return to the road, and there’s plenty of sweet concepts floating around for the Supra too, including this:
I stumbled across a blog for some bizarre Alfa Romeo concept yesterday and have since been exploring the world of concept cars that go a little further than those that usually find their way to motor shows and – eventually, after being watered down and trimmed of all their awesome features – the road.
What happens when you create a concept that’s “based on the idea of living cell tissue system of a plant, that acts as a transportation unit which carries organic nutrients to all parts of the plant where needed. This concept is the inspiration of a theoretical idea of future technology acting as micro organisms that transport and nourish the world on a global scale.” ?
This – the Volkswagen Pholeum:
My car is, currently and lamentably, without an audio system at the moment. I can’t find the radio code. The sad thing is that that means I have to entertain myself on the daily commute. Thankfully I don’t car share with anyone because at the moment – despite hearing so many other things during the day, I keep singing along to this:
I saw this advert for the new Mazda2 in Oxford this weekend (yeah, it was raining so a real great time for a weekend away) and keep hearing snatches of it on the tv while I’m wandering around the apartment. Thanks to the ever-so-annoyingly catchy nature of the song it simply reignites the memory and I feel like I’m stuck on an ongoing cycle doomed forever to be singing Mazda advert soundtracks.
Thing is, I’ve seen plenty of these motoring around lately but I can’t tell you anything about them. Certainly not based on the strength of this ad. All I can tell you is that it reminds me of the video for the White Stripes’ Seven Nation Army. Yet another annoyingly catchy song.
Oh, and it makes a lot more sense than this ad for the new SEAT:
Seriously, what are they trying to say: buy the new Ibiza and some hairy biker angel is going to shoot everyone in the vicinity? It makes as much sense as a perfume ad.
While Honda keeps appearing in the headlines for all the wrong reasons lately (no manufacturer wants to have to utter those words “product recall”) the creative brains that bought out some of the greatest ads – certainly in terms of car ads – ever haven’t sat still.
I found this today and, according to the rules of this blog, thought I’d share it here:
While this one serves as a cracking ad for the new Honda Civic, it manages to combine elements from so many of their great adverts to date – including the funky little robot chap Asimo I can’t get enough of. The Honda Civic is one of those cars that’s been around and selling in huge amounts since the dawn of time (or the dawn of cars which was just 22 seconds after that) and though the very latest shape has become a bit of a Marmite like element of the car, I really like it. It looks like something Buck Rogers would drive.
I remember my first driving lessons. Nervous, sweating palms, twitchy feet, hesitant movements and constant double checking of the roads before crawling along and that was just the driving instructor.
I kid, of course. Driving instructors are made of stronger stuff, and with due reason. While my driving lessons in Essex weren’t all that perilous – I’d had more than a few preparatory experiences behind the wheel – I saw and heard of many that were. And it’s not just in the UK too, as a stroll through youtube revealed: