AN EXPERT AT SHOOTING MYSELF IN THE FOOT
or Misadventures in Advertising and Life
The world is wealthier than any time in history.
But people continue to suffer and die from abuse,
hunger, lack of medical care, wars and plagues.
Many elders and others are alone, lonely, depressed and frightened.
Many young people and children are suffering from emotional crisis.
I think a lot of us know the causes of this completely unnecessary suffering
rests in the hands of comparatively few greedy people,
but there must be something behind the greed.
Have you heard their political representatives speaking lately.
If you have the stomach for it, listen to Putin or Trump,
or even worse, to Vance spew childish name-calling and nonsense.
The fact that the race for the White House is neck and neck
between an intelligent humane and passionate communicator
and a series of babbling moral infants should shock us all.
This is not so different that the recent election in the UK,
where now, after 14 painful years, we have the responsible,
service-conscious adults back.
This has made me ask, who are the rioters on the streets of England?
Who are these rich and abusive CEO’s of social media?
Who are the multi-millionaire silicon valley intellectual infants
that stuff my email box hour-by-hour
with absurd threats or even more absurd offers?
Thinking back to when I was trapped in the world of commercials directing
I remembered encounters in various meetings
that made me wonder then,
who are these tasteless, anti-intellectual decision-makers with power?
These were people who had the uncanny skill
of uniting ignorance with arrogance.
I was in Atlanta for what was called a PPM or a pre-production meeting.
These were usually attended by the big-wig people
in charge of sales, advertising and PR from the client;
the big-shot creative director, the ad’s writer and art director,
the head producer and various other hangers-on from the Advertising agency;
and then the production company that included my Producer and myself
as director/cinematographer.
In this meeting in Atlanta,
while presenting the idea for an ice cream product,
the agency creative director explained that the headline to the ad
was about how this brand had created the perfect combination of ingredients.
The main client interrupted him,
announcing that it was not possible to use the word ‘perfect’
about human endeavours.
He persisted, “Only God is capable of perfection.”
I smothered a guffaw.
All eyes turned to me with shock, horror or anger.
I made and edited the commercial, which was apparently considered a success,
but never worked again for either that client or that agency.
In a London PPM for a huge toiletry client,
I explained that after the mother dries the hair of the daughter,
the father would hold the child to him, embracing and hugging her.
The client expressed horror at the idea that a man should hug a child.
I was taken aback and asked him to explain.
(This was seen as me breaking all the laws of subservience
as the uber businesspeople were considered demi-gods.)
He told me it was unnatural and sexually questionable.
Angrily I said that was nonsense, that I had a daughter whom I cuddle
and that I am not a sexual deviant.
I do what fathers have done for millions of years -
expressing love and warmth towards their young children
and what he was saying was nonsense.
I made the commercial, which seemed to be successful
(but without the hugging scene)
and was never used again by the client.
In another PPM I was explaining my casting choices
for a series of vignettes showing people of different backgrounds
using the clients hoovers and etc.
I was stopped in mid-flow by the agency creative director
who loudly proclaimed
(perhaps with a touch of pride)
that it was not possible to use black or Indian people in the commercial.
I gulped loudly and asked why not.
The answer was given, as if he was talking to an 8 year old,
that the commercial was to be shown not only in the UK and parts of Europe
but also in Apartheid South Africa.
I said, “ahh, all the better.”
I shot and edited the commercial which was apparently considered a success
but never again worked for that client nor that agency.
These people were/are the taste and task-makers,
the men and few women who run the world of business
and then, with money in their coffers, influenced our politicians.
It was the rarest of moments when I respected someone,
or indeed even liked someone from that world.
Of course I knew I was miscast,
that I was too politically aware and to ornery to keep quiet.
But I grew up with a deep distaste of bullies
and these people were just that,
using the constant threat that if someone didn’t play ball
according to their rules,
they would be cut out like a cancer,
ostracised as if in 15th century Florence,
or, as in pre-history, forced into the unknown forest,
left to die on one’s own.
I also learned that what was called ‘black rumours/gossip/propaganda’
would be whispered against one.
Do not be mistaken or naïve, do not look away:
the world is wealthier than any time in history,
yet people are dying from abuse, hunger, lack of medical care, wars and plagues.
It is because of the people mentioned above.
When I turned 18, the anti-Vietnam War Movement
recognised that middleclass college students
burning their draft cards and escaping to Canada
left poor whites and many black youths
exposed to the draft without a defence or an escape.
I duly volunteered to join the army (and to cause trouble).
I went for my physical and was told,
“Boy, you jes ain’t US army material.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
When I began to realise the contribution I was making
to promote awful so-called foods to the world via my commercials,
I made the decision to return to my earlier career as a photojournalist
but then with a video camera
to make documentaries that would be devoted to truth telling.
In directing commercials one makes money,
in making documentaries, one, if lucky, may break even.
It’s another version of shooting myself in the foot
while my soul recovers
as I continue to struggle to be moral in an immoral world.