How A Vacuum Cleaner Ad From 1998 Ruined My Weekend (In a Good Way)
Let me take you back to a VHS tape I found in a Wellington op shop. Labelled "TV3 Nightline, 1998." Naturally, I bought it. Five dollars to relive the glory days of late-night news and the ads wedged awkwardly in between. I didn’t expect to spiral into a three-day bender analysing a 30-second spot for a vacuum cleaner.
It was for the Electrolux Z1900. Not exactly the sexy end of the appliances aisle. But there it was, calmly dismantling toast crumbs in a living room that looked lifted from a 90s lifestyle mag. What got me wasn’t the machine. It was the ad’s sheer confidence. A single, smooth camera move. No voiceover. Just Bach’s Goldberg Variations and a quiet linger on a rug. The ad trusted silence. Trusted your attention span. Something you almost never see anymore.
Today’s ads think you’ll vanish in half a second. Every frame tries to shout louder than the last. We’re shown more features in 15 seconds than anyone could possibly remember. Ads feel like they were edited by a squirrel on Red Bull. But the Z1900 spot? It gave you room to notice things. You took in the light. The carpet. A stray sock that, I’m certain, was intentional. That restraint is what elevated it from product to poetry.
Agencies talk a big game about storytelling. But when was the last time a brand told a story without verbally bludgeoning you with the key messages every five seconds? Maybe we need to study less Cannes and more cardboard boxes of old VHS. Not everything has to be kinetic energy. Sometimes the most powerful message is delivered quietly, via suction.
It was for the Electrolux Z1900. Not exactly the sexy end of the appliances aisle. But there it was, calmly dismantling toast crumbs in a living room that looked lifted from a 90s lifestyle mag. What got me wasn’t the machine. It was the ad’s sheer confidence. A single, smooth camera move. No voiceover. Just Bach’s Goldberg Variations and a quiet linger on a rug. The ad trusted silence. Trusted your attention span. Something you almost never see anymore.
Today’s ads think you’ll vanish in half a second. Every frame tries to shout louder than the last. We’re shown more features in 15 seconds than anyone could possibly remember. Ads feel like they were edited by a squirrel on Red Bull. But the Z1900 spot? It gave you room to notice things. You took in the light. The carpet. A stray sock that, I’m certain, was intentional. That restraint is what elevated it from product to poetry.
Agencies talk a big game about storytelling. But when was the last time a brand told a story without verbally bludgeoning you with the key messages every five seconds? Maybe we need to study less Cannes and more cardboard boxes of old VHS. Not everything has to be kinetic energy. Sometimes the most powerful message is delivered quietly, via suction.