Your Career in a Pontiac Aztek

In 2001, Pontiac introduced the Pontiac Aztek - an SUV crossover with a built-in tent that would later become one of Time's 50 Worst Cars of All Time. The article claims, "This car could not have been more instantly hated if it had a Swastika tattoo on its forehead."

It continues, "The Aztek design had been fiddled with, fussed over, cost-shaved and otherwise compromised until the tough, cool-looking concept had been reduced to a bulky, plastic-clad mess. A classic case of losing the plot...The shame is, under all that ugliness, there was a useful competent crossover."

Sound familiar?

But the fact that the original Aztek design was pecked to death by ducks isn't the only parallel to advertising. The pits the Aztek designers fell into are still out there.

Danger 1: Accepting too many compromises

Did the Aztek's designers fight to keep their original idea? My guess was they were so happy to actually be producing something they justified a few compromises. David Droga has said, "It’s a weird thing – sometimes you start out with something that you love, but when it does get compromised along the way, you’re so in love with it you’re blinded to how much it’s been compromised, and you just want to see it through. You have to have the courage as an agency to say, we understand your issues and we’ll take this off the table and come back with something new."

Danger 2: Believing creativity is gravy

The fact that "under all that ugliness, there was a useful competent crossover" makes me think that Pontiac justified messing with the design because it was still a crossover and fit the parameters of what Pontiac wanted to launch. That's like saying, "It answers the brief, so it must be a great ad." A great campaign does more than give the client what they asked for in the briefing meeting. Great design, great art direction, great writing aren't just artsy-fartsy bells and whistles.

Danger 3: Staying in the wrong culture

I may be going out on a limb, but I don't think Pontiac had a culture that championed truly great, innovative ideas. Toyota? Sure. Honda? You bet. But Pontiac? And yet, they must have had some talented and ambitious designers there. Ron Mather has said, "You are more likely to come up with a great idea in a great agency than in a mediocre agency. I think it’s the atmosphere. Being around very good people in an environment that promotes great creative thinking.”

And if you realize you're working for a Pontiac-style ad agency, have the courage to follow Ernie Schenck's advice: "If things are working out and you're getting your needs met, and you know what those are at this point, then great. If not, though, don't wait to jump ship. Trust me on this inertia thing. The longer people stay in one place the harder it is for them to leave."

Danger 4: Lowering the bar

Despite all the time and money Pontiac put into developing the Aztek, they failed to realize that people were going to hate it. My guess is they were talking to themselves. Groupthink and high standards rarely co-exist. If you lower the bar of your own creative integrity because you think it will help you get something produced, make your CD happy, enter an award show, or simply because it's your duty and you need to be a good solider, watch out. There will be times in your career when, for various reasons, you will be required to deliver work that is below your standards. Just don't make them too frequent. And never kid yourself that meeting such low expectations is an accomplishment to celebrate.

It's the Music, Stupid, Part IV: Music Supervisor

Recently the iTunes Weekly Rewind podcast (Ep. 47) featured a short tribute to John Hughes. Unlike all the other obits, this podcast didn't talk about him so much as a filmmaker as they did a music supervisor. In fact, they called him the Godfather of Music Supervision.

And it occurs to me that this is a role the best creative teams put themselves in as well.

Hughes didn't just stick music in to fill space. Or because it sounded cool. He used music to set a scene, develop characters, and tell a story. Sure, the scripts were hilarious, and the stories were good, and Mollie Ringwald always looked cute. But Hughes used the music to bring everything together.

No one had ever heard of Yello's "Oh Yeah" before they saw Ferris Buehller's Day Off. Just like no one had ever really heard "Da Da Da" by Trio before VW adopted it. (And both are over a decade old, and they're still valid examples.)

When you're putting together a spot, it's easy to want to use the latest, cool band. Or something goofy and nostalgic. And sometimes that works. But remember Hughes used everything from then-hot bands like Oingo Boingo, to then-obscure bands like Simple Minds, and then-forgotten artists like Ottis Redding.

So try writing a spot that needs a Japanese wedding melody. Or a really obscure Dave Brubeck track. Or something from Tommy Emmanuel. Or Slayer. You can't tell me you're not itching to write a script with some Slayer in it.

You might even get the right sound, and end up hiring the actual artist to write an original piece like Dunkin' Donuts did with They Might Be Giants and Coke did with Jack White.

Become a music supervisor. You might even end up with a spot that wins you some awards and resurrects Mickey Dolenz's career.

Stakes in the Ground

One of my first jobs in advertising was as an intern at an agency in Salt Lake City. Every Monday, the entire agency (40 or so) would meet in the board room to review any work that had been produced, and address any issues for the coming week.

Each week, we'd be reminded of the agency's goal, which was to be the premiere creative boutique between Minneapolis and the West Coast. (This was back when Fallon McElligott and Goodby Silverstein were having their breakout years.) We even had a map on the wall outlining the states we wanted to "own" - everything from Arizona to Missouri. And within five years Creativity had listed this agency as one of their "20 Agencies to Watch," and Communication Arts had profiled them.

I think it's important for agencies to have clearly stated and ambitious goals that everyone can rally around. It's the difference between a good shop and a great one. It's not enough to say, "We're going to do killer creative." That's what 750 other agencies are saying. Compare that to Fallon's new CEO Chris Foster, who publicly declared last month, "We want to be Ad Age's Agency of the Year within three years." That's an awesome reason to want to work for Fallon right now.

As a junior creative, you might not be in a position to set such lofty goals for your agency. But there are a few things you can do:

1. You can ask what the agency's purpose, vision or goal is. My guess is there is one, but it's not clearly articulated. If there is one, and it's a good one, get behind it. Start championing it. See each assignment through the lens of "How will this help us do X."
2. If there's not, ask why. Chances are your CD or other agency leaders have thought about it, but need some enthusiasm to nudge them.
3. If you're interviewing, ask the people you meet with if the agency has a goal or a purpose. The answers they give can give you a huge insight into the agency's ambition and its commitment to creative work. If the president says the goal is to be the best agency in the region, but the CD says it's to be on Creativity's Top 5, the junior teams say it's to do killer work, and the account team says it's to keep the clients happy, you'll at least know how well the agency is with its internal communications.

The Importance of Seconds PART 2

15 seconds is half of 30 seconds.

30 seconds isn't very long to begin with, but it seems like an eternity after you've tried cramming an idea into 15 seconds.

Clients love 15-second spots because they can buy a lot more of them for the money. In media impressions, they're not that different.

But in creative terms, they are very different. In a :30, you can set a scene. You can have some dialogue. Tell a little story.

A :15 is the equivalent of a billboard. You get one idea. A simple one.

DO NOT try to cram a :30 idea into :15. The results will not be good. I say this, and yet I've tried it many many times. I've had ideas that I just knew were so great that I wouldn't let them go, even though they were too complicated for 15 seconds. I've had :30 scripts that a creative director promised to a client could become :15s. Most often, I've had :30s that had to also be cut down to :15s because they had the in the plan. Whatever the reason, the results have not been good.

Know going in if you have to do a :15. Then concept for a :15. KEEP IT SIMPLE.

One of my favorite :15 campaigns of all time had a very straightforward, single-minded idea.

The Importance of Seconds PART 1

Here's an idea for the media folks (feel free to take this and run with it): The 33-second spot. And as a corollary, you can do the :17. I'm serious. Copywriters across the country would be pitching in their own coin to help the client buy them.

But odds are, as brilliant an idea as that is, nobody's going to take me up on it anytime soon. So here's my advice, something I've learned through painful experience: TIME YOUR DAMN SPOTS!

Aside from a pen and paper, a stopwatch might be your most valuable tool. Get one. When you write copy, BEFORE you present it, read it out loud and use that stopwatch. If it's over :30 cut it. Actually, if it's over :25, cut it. Allowing for a decent pace and pauses will give it character in the end. And when you read it, don't read it with the goal of hitting :30. Read it like you want it to be read by your announcer or actors.

I can't tell you how many times a writer comes into my office with a half page of copy for a :30.

"How long is this?"
"30 seconds."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"You timed it?"
"Yeah."
"Out loud?"
"Well, kind of."
I pull out my stopwatch.
"Read it. Out loud."
They do. They read fast. As they get close to the end, they get faster and faster. They stop breathing and the last couple sentences come out like they're speaking in tongues, "andforminationvisitourwesiteatredna dot com!"
"34 seconds."

This is so simple to do, but it happens all the time. Or, maybe more often, they write a nice script that clocks in under :30, and when the client makes them add stuff, they're so enamored with their original copy that they don't cut any of it.

Cut it. It will be painful at first, but suck it up and get over it. Learn to love that pain. Half of good writing is good editing.

Believe me, there is nothing more embarrassing than being on a set, ready to roll, with actors and crew and client and a director all standing by, and having the script supervisor tell you that she keeps clocking your script at :32, and you having to edit your script right then and there. That's pressure you don't need.

Stopwatch, my friend. Stopwatch.

Internal presentations

When agencies present work to clients, they go to the trouble of setting up the presentation first. Usually, they read the brief to remind everyone what the purpose of the assignment was. They might explain who they're talking to, what media they're using, and may even reveal the tag line or theme before showing the work.

But when creatives present work to their creative directors, they usually just push a stack of sharpied comps across the desk. And I think more work dies unnecessarily because of this.

I'm not suggesting creative directors need a big, client-sized presentation. But a little context can go a long way. You may say, But my CD is a genius. He's been doing this for 15 years. He knows what my stick figures represent. I'm not going to patronize him by re-briefing him.

But consider that most creative directors have more responsibilities than a junior team does. Just because you've been developing your ideas day and night for the past two weeks doesn't mean your CD has been equally involved. There are client calls, new business developments that aren't announced, senior staff meetings, departmental budgets to consider, review and revise. There are a million other agency-related distractions CDs have to deal with.

So it may help, at least on the initial internal presentation to present to your CD as if he were one of them instead of one of you. I'm not talking about polishing your comps - that's a waste of time. I'm talking about briefly reviewing the brief: Who are you talking to, and what are you trying to tell them and what the client's expectations are. Ninety seconds upfront and you're done.

Do this with your account team and planners as well and you'll see less and less work die internally. Not because you've managed to talk them into your work. But because you'll be able to pre-edit ideas that aren't on brief anyway.

"Wow. That's it."

Aaron at The Writes has a pretty cool way of motivating himself when things get tough. Check it out.

A Lesson in Presentation from Bobby McFerrin

Keep Writing

Three lessons to take away from this great spot:

1. Music can make even a history lesson dramatic and inspiring. Learn how to use music.
2. You don't have to have CGI, punch-lines, scintillating dialogue, a cast of thousands or slick editing techniques to make a killer spot.
3. Writers, yes, you have to learn to think visually. And sometimes a killer visual with the client logo is the right thing to do. But a real writer, has to write. And write as well as BBH's Justin Moore did on this spot.

Talk About the Work

If you want to get better at recognizing (and ultimately creating) great work, you need to talk about it. With your partners, with your CDs, with your planners and account team. You probably already do this, but let me tell you why it’s a good thing to do. By talking about the work…

• You internalize why it’s great (or why it sucks). Those values become a part of who you are as a creative.
• You open your taste to criticism. And education. (Someone at my office thought this was a great “commercial.” Obviously, we need to talk about great work with her more often.)
• You become more capable of articulating why something works or why it doesn’t. This is an invaluable skill if you want to be a creative director or judge an awards show. (“It just isn’t working for me,” is not helpful direction.)

Seeing the work Fred & Farid did for Wrangler is good.

Understanding why it won the Grand Prix at Cannes this year is better.

Having an opinion on whether or not it deserved such an honor - and being able to articulate it (see Lubars' comments) - is best.

And you get bonus points for knowing the opinions of your partner, creative director, agency president, and planner. Because that will let you know what kind of agency you work for. Not because they agree or disagree. But because you’ll know that they’re thinking about what’s great, and what it takes to get there.