Super Bowl Sunday is the one day of the year that television viewers look forward to commercials. Those 30-second spots that interrupted the suspense of “Mission: Impossible” and the comedic flow of “Seinfeld” way back in the 20th century are embraced as a time-honored tradition during the NFL’s annual championship showdown.
Those who grew up before the advent of the DVR and streaming subscriptions can identify one another, generationally, by the jingle lodged in their subconscious: “You sank my battleship.” “My bologna has a first name …” “Where’s the beef?” “Gimme a break, gimme a break ...” But they’ve long since been relegated to the trash heap — nostalgia drawer? — of pop culture history, as broadcast television’s monopoly ended, and with it the Don Draper era, in which a single memorable ad could enchant a nation. “I’d like to buy the world a Coke ...”
These days, though, programming breaks are dominated by soft-focus pharmaceutical ads that try their best not to stand out when promising eczema or depression medications that help folks blend in. They often run in tandem with the artless pitches of law offices waging class action suits against drug manufacturers. Which means making an ad that becomes renowned for its innovation, sharp humor and cultural resonance comes down to the last remaining occasion when millions of American viewers are willing to do what their parents or grandparents had to: watch commercials.
