Virgin Atlantic Airways is hoping business travelers will say, "Oh, behave!" after seeing a cheeky new commercial, which uses bawdy British humor to spoof cheesy soft-core pornography.
The jest even extends to the choice of media for the parody, which will appear where the intended audience watches actual cheesy soft-core pornography, on the adult-entertainment channels of the closed-circuit television systems in hotel rooms.
PHOTO: NY TIMES
The spoof, almost 10 minutes long, promotes Virgin Atlantic's Upper Class Suite service on flights between London and New York. Though there is no nudity or profanity, there is enough wink-wink, nudge-nudge japery to fill a fourth Austin Powers film.
First, there is the title, "Suite & Innocent," then come woodenly-acted characters, with names like Miles High, Big Ben and Summer Turbulence, who deliver dialogue replete with double-entendres about "your first time" onboard and enjoying "several inches more" of legroom.
The airline's American agency, Crispin Porter & Bogusky in Miami, spent almost US$1 million to produce and place the parody, which is part of a wry campaign carrying the theme "Go jet set, go!" that also includes droll seat-pocket safety cards and an in-flight magazine called Jetrosexual.
The commercial will be available from this week through the end of the year on the Adult Desires pay-per-view channel on hotel TV networks operated by the LodgeNet Entertainment Corp. Hotel guests will find it listed among real films like Girl-on-Girl and As Wet as They Come, but unlike them the parody can be watched free.
The spoof is emblematic of efforts by advertisers to make media choices outside traditional realms like broadcast television or direct mail to reach busy contemporary consumers. Crispin Porter has become known for such offbeat projects, from a Web site for Burger King presenting an accommodating fowl in a garter belt (subservientchicken.com) to mock contracts bound into magazines stipulating owners of Mini Cooper convertibles must drive with the tops down "for at least 90 percent" of their rides.
"We were trying to figure out the best way to reach these highly elusive business travelers," said Chris Rossi, vice president for North American sales and marketing at the Norwalk, Connecticut, office of Virgin Atlantic, part of the Virgin Group, "and this is where they're spending time." The airline's research found that 78 percent of the target market stays at hotels equipped with LodgeNet pay-per-view channels, he said.
The provocative nature of the project is unusual, Rossi acknowledged, but "people expect us to be irreverent."
The plot, such as it is, is centered on a buxom blonde, the chief executive of a lingerie company, who enjoys a business trip from New York to London in a Virgin Atlantic Upper Class Suite. In one scene, a venture capitalist she meets on board offers to invest in her company, and as he writes a check for US$100 million, she recites aloud each zero by moaning, "Oh, oh, oh, oh."
When he is finished, she whips out a digital camera and snaps the check. "Voila," he exclaims, "the money shot."
In another scene, a woman getting an in-flight massage is interrupted by a hunk carrying a wrench, who proclaims, "I've come to fix your pipes." A Virgin Atlantic employee tells him: "I'm afraid you've wandered into the wrong movie. You're one channel over."
The cast enthusiastically mocks the conventions of soft-core pornography by continuously delivering lines with double meanings; the women sigh and moan and the men speak in gruff growls. The cast overacts each scene by performing any activity, from getting a shoeshine to pouring hot fudge on an ice-cream sundae, in a sexually suggestive manner.
The parody ends with text on screen identifying Virgin Atlantic as the sponsor and offering a frequent-flier reward for watching.
"Where you tell your friends you saw this offer," the text reads, "well, that's entirely up to you."
In Taiwan there are two economies: the shiny high tech export economy epitomized by Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co (TSMC, 台積電) and its outsized effect on global supply chains, and the domestic economy, driven by construction and powered by flows of gravel, sand and government contracts. The latter supports the former: we can have an economy without TSMC, but we can’t have one without construction. The labor shortage has heavily impacted public construction in Taiwan. For example, the first phase of the MRT Wanda Line in Taipei, originally slated for next year, has been pushed back to 2027. The government
July 22 to July 28 The Love River’s (愛河) four-decade run as the host of Kaohsiung’s annual dragon boat races came to an abrupt end in 1971 — the once pristine waterway had become too polluted. The 1970 event was infamous for the putrid stench permeating the air, exacerbated by contestants splashing water and sludge onto the shore and even the onlookers. The relocation of the festivities officially marked the “death” of the river, whose condition had rapidly deteriorated during the previous decade. The myriad factories upstream were only partly to blame; as Kaohsiung’s population boomed in the 1960s, all household
Allegations of corruption against three heavyweight politicians from the three major parties are big in the news now. On Wednesday, prosecutors indicted Hsinchu County Commissioner Yang Wen-ke (楊文科) of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), a judgment is expected this week in the case involving Hsinchu Mayor Ann Kao (高虹安) of the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) and former deputy premier and Taoyuan Mayor Cheng Wen-tsan (鄭文燦) of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) is being held incommunicado in prison. Unlike the other two cases, Cheng’s case has generated considerable speculation, rumors, suspicions and conspiracy theories from both the pan-blue and pan-green camps.
Stepping inside Waley Art (水谷藝術) in Taipei’s historic Wanhua District (萬華區) one leaves the motorcycle growl and air-conditioner purr of the street and enters a very different sonic realm. Speakers hiss, machines whir and objects chime from all five floors of the shophouse-turned- contemporary art gallery (including the basement). “It’s a bit of a metaphor, the stacking of gallery floors is like the layering of sounds,” observes Australian conceptual artist Samuel Beilby, whose audio installation HZ & Machinic Paragenesis occupies the ground floor of the gallery space. He’s not wrong. Put ‘em in a Box (我們把它都裝在一個盒子裡), which runs until Aug. 18, invites