It’s probably not fashionable to display ambition quite as boldly as the creators of We Feel Fine do. They describe their project as “an almanac of human emotion”, no less. But fashion bedamned because, however satisfying you find the results, there is something about the very attempt to capture how everyone in the world is feeling that is simply breathtaking. The fact that it is conducted in real time, before your very eyes, is more than breathtaking – it’s pretty much a first in human history.
Broadly speaking, We Feel Fine is two things: a book and a website. I haven’t seen the book but the website seems far more interesting. Its centrepiece, the We Feel Fine applet, works by randomly lifting sentences starting with the words “I feel” from countless different blogs around the world and then displaying them in various ways.
This is already quite original, but what the applet does with these nuggets of subjectivity is even more interesting. Amazingly, it gives the user a considerable amount of control over how these sentiments are organised and viewed. You can organise them by writer location, age, gender, date and so on. You can choose to have them displayed alongside “mood” images that are adjudged (by computer) to have some visual affinity with the emotions expressed verbally. There are even more ways to view the purloined phrases, but I won’t spoil the surprise by revealing them here. This is one site you really have to play around with to appreciate.
So what are we to make of We Feel Fine? Is it art? Is it sociology? It’s probably too unmediated to be art. It’s almost certainly too mercurial to be sociology. It feels more like an exemplar of some new genre, one made possible for the first time by that mad cacophony of voices we call the Internet. Whatever it is, We Feel Fine does something remarkable: it provides us with an adjustable eyepiece through which we can glimpse the sublime disorder of human life.
Two of the hottest agencies on the planet right now are Crispin Porter & Bogusky and Droga5. Both winning bucketloads of awards. Both demonstrating admirably how to reconcile ‘traditional’ advertising with digital. CPB’s recent ‘Whopper Sacrifice’ Facebook app (quickly culled by Facebook because it became fairly contentious) won a pencil this year. And Droga5’s philanthropic ‘Millon’ campaign (helping underachievers in the poorest performing schools in New York) and ‘The Great Schlep’ (encouraging elderly Jewish voters to support Obama) both won Black Pencils. So here are their latest TV spots, which we thought it would be interesting to compare.
First into the ring is CPB’s Christmas ad for the mighty GAP.
What’s that? The sound of millions of toes curling in unison? To be fair, not everything travels well across the Atlantic and all I can think is that this must be one of those things that you have to be American to appreciate. Interesting to note the politically correct approach to the ‘Christmas’ season too. So not only do we get a nod to Christmas, but also to Hannukah (Jewish), Kwanza (African) and Solstice (Pagan?). Now everyone can wear a GAP Christmas jumper and no-one’s left out in the cold.
Moving on quickly to Droga5’s non-seasonal offering for a packaged goods company called Method, which is aiming to encourage support for a US bill concerning clearer labelling on products. And yet again, the Americans display their unrivalled mastery of humour. OK, so anthropomorphic shenanigans are nothing new. But the writing, performance, animation and general all-round craft takes it to another level of laugh-out-loud genius.
Chris Cunningham. Darker than a bar of dark chocolate in a coal cellar. A director whose nightmarish visions have that rare quality of burning themselves forever into your retinas. Closely aligned with electronic disrupters Warp, one of Cunningham’s many qualities is his ability to conjure up the monsters, freaks and genetic mutations that perfectly compliment the agitated, anxious and paranoid atmosphere of Warp’s deconstructed techno. If Hieronymus Bosch or Pieter Brueghel were alive today, they’d be fans too.
The terrifying short film/music video ‘Rubber Johnny’ done with long-term collaborator Aphex Twin.
The equally disturbing music video for yet another Aphex Twin track ‘Come to Daddy’ – a Cunningham classic.
And a fascinating look at what happens when Cunningham ventures into the mainstream – a TV ad for Gucci perfume. You can still see the unmistakeable Cunningham touch in this. Whilst allowing for the convention of perfume advertising (beautiful woman flounces around looking beautiful) he still manages to instil in this a dark fairytale quality which sets it apart from other ads in this genre.
Just referencing Chris Morris in the previous post felt a little disingenuous considering his unique contribution to the comedy annals. A genuine comedy terrorist that refused to compromise his visceral and controversial style, he remains something of an enigma to this day as a result of his determined efforts to remain out of the spotlight – and the determined efforts of nervous TV bosses to keep him away from anything vaguely resembling a prime-time spot. Starting his career on radio, he began to craft the spoof news interview(er) style that became his trademark, scaring studio bosses witless with his provocative use of profanity and disregard for celebrity reputation or position.
A particular forte of his became the spoof campaign, to which he would persuade celebrities to lend their support. This led to the unforgettable sight of Phil Collins in a branded baseball hat supporting the paedophile awareness campaign ‘Nonce-Sense’. His campaign to highlight the dangers of the new street drug ‘Cake’, also led to questions being raised in Parliament – a feat which probably remains unsurpassed, even by recent pretenders to the throne such as Sacha Baron Cohen. We could go on. And on. And on. But as we’re probably preaching to the converted anyway, below are a few of our favourite Morris moments for you to enjoy.
Warming up with some old footage showing a young Chris Morris infiltrating a cheesy UK discussion programme in order to talk pseudo-anthropological bollocks – just because it’s funny (though he does get rumbled by the researchers in the wings).
The infamous ‘Paedogeddon’ edition of Brass Eye. You can watch the whole glorious episode on YouTube, but the beginning of this snippet is well worth a watch to see Sebastian Coe, Gary Lineker and others become unwitting stooges in Morris’s dark comedy masterpiece (don’t they ever stop to question what they’re reading?).
As above, only this time, the celebrity dupes have jumped onboard another fictitious bandwagon created by Morris – a warning against the deadly designer drug, CAKE.
It’s hard to stop once you start delving into the Morris canon. But we’ll finish with a musical parody, the classic ‘Uzi-Lover’ from rapper Fur-Q.
Two works of comedy genius. The Onion, with its Chris Morris style pastiche of the big American News Networks. And its cousin across the water, The Framley Examiner, with an altogether more genteel parody of suburban life and regional newspapers. But which is better….?
