Anatomy of a Political Cartoon
By: John Emmerling
Tags: Life Lessons, Creative Process, Creativity, Writing, Ideas

It spins out something like this

Imagine that Billy Bob’s Boots is a new client at your agency. It’s a growing company that makes cowboy boots, workplace boots, and hiking boots. The CEO (Billy Bob) founded the company and still calls all the shots. His innovative boot designs use high-quality materials. With savvy niche pricing, he’s built his little venture into an industry-leading brand.

The client is important to your agency. Your assignment is to introduce their newest product. Create a splashy commercial for their line of rugged boots for off-trail biking. The brand name of the line: Billy Bob’s Bush Busters.

You put a couple of creative teams on this and give them a week. You also get involved yourself and do some personal research. The process will usually yield a dozen or so rough TV concepts. As creative director you select the best three ideas. The art department develops three finished storyboards.

Now you fly to Dallas to present this work in a big conference room at the Billy Bob corporate offices. Attending are Billy Bob (himself!), a marketing VP, an ad manager, and two young product managers.

You stand up at your end of the table and recap the assignment. Then you talk about how the agency—and you, in particular—looked for solutions to the creative challenge.

“I drove to Maine two weeks ago. I was wearing a pair of Bush Busters — your Exxtreme 1000 model — and put them through a mean-ass bicycle torture test. Man, I sure do love that boot!”

(CLIENTS GLOW WHEN THEY LEARN THE AGENCY CREATIVE GUY HAS ACTUALLY USED THEIR PRODUCT—AND HE TRULY LIKES IT.)

Then you pull out the first of your three storyboards.

“This first commercial uses a slo-mo camera mounted at pedal level. The viewers will feel like they’re riding on the toe of the boot. They’ll see your boot working hard — at ground level — as it rips through hardscrabble country.” You explain all the visuals and then read the copy. The wrap-up line is: BILLY BOB’S BUSH BUSTERS—GET THE LOWDOWN.

Now you pull out a second storyboard. “This spot uses computer animation and features two cartoon characters,” you say. “There’s a thorny briar bush who’s complaining to a scrawny poison ivy vine. The briar bush is really pissed off. We hear it say: ‘Those damn Billy Bob Bush Busters messed me up right down to the roots!’ You read poison ivy’s response. “Hey, briar dude — tell me about it!” Then you deliver the wrap-up: BILLY BOB’S BUSH BUSTERS—NOT RECOMMENDED BY WEEDS.

“Those two spots are pretty good,” you say. “But check out this next one.”

Your third storyboard shows a real chimp riding an off-trail bike through a hellscape of barbs, briars, sticky vines, and swampy pits. The chimp is grinning and hooting maniacally as he plows through wilderness obstructions like a hot knife through butter. You read the copy and intone the wrap-up: BILLY BOB’S BUSH BUSTERS—FOR CHIMPS, NOT FOR CHUMPS.

You explain that the agency did focus-group testing with off-trail bikers. “The first two spots got a lot of likes,” you say, “but the chimp spot blew the doors off. It scored best—by far—in brand awareness. And the ‘intent-to-buy’ numbers were off the charts.”

The pitch—asking for the order

“So that spot is our recommendation. What do you think, Billy Bob?”

Billy Bob clears his throat.

“Wal, now, I’m jes not fond of chimps—them things are damn smelly beasts. But at breakfast this mornin,’ Mrs. Billy Bob had an idea.” (He is unfolding a scribbled piece of note paper.)

“Lemme show you this here commercial.”

(YOUR THOUGHT: Oh shit—here we go.)

Mike Tyson just took a swing at your gut. But you’re still on your feet. This is going to require the unique skills of seeming acceptance, combined with subtle rebuttal, while adding a sprig of gentle persuasion. You start by opening the door.

“Sure, Billy Bob—we’ll take a great idea from anywhere. I’d love to hear it.” (This is a lie. Agencies have a fierce pride about originating ALL ideas for their produced creative work. Clients make the products. Agencies make the ads. End of story.)

So you let Billy Bob ramble on about his wife’s idea to include a packet of weed seeds with every pair of boots.

“Y’see?” says Billy Bob. “A buyer gets to grow his own weeds—the kind with them really sticky burrs. Then he can put on his Bush Busters and go rippin’ through the weeds on his bike.”

If the CEO is not a total narcissist, he’ll spot the glum faces and avoiding eyes around the table. Hmmm. My own team think the idea sucks.

You may not have to say a thing.

“Wal, maybe that’s a crappy idea. Show me your chimp storyboard again.”