Get over yourselves. Manele aren’t a romanian - only phenomenon. They aren’t even Balkans - only. No siree, they can be found anywhere. Even in Uzbekistan, you ask? Yes, even in Uzbekistan. And the dance moves are pretty much the same 
If you’ve posted a comment to the last few posts and it just went poof, please mail me . My spamcatcher got screwed up and sent everything to the spam folder. Damn.
… or so some copywriters think.
Latest evidence: the commercial for Dr. Oetker’s muesli brand, Vitalis . I couldn’t find the spot on the net, so, my non-European readers, imagine a middle aged couple getting up in the morning. The woman, for some unknown reason, wears an ugly men’s pijama, so for a short time I thought the Romanian advertising has finally moved on to present our very own first pair of gay people NOT IN DRAG and NOT FOR COMIC RELIEF PURPOSES. Alas, ‘t was not to be.
Cheesy music starts, with a guy crooning about how he can’t stop loving somebody, and how he made up his mind. In the meantime the husband (I think) gets out of the bed, where his feet make contact with a skateboard placed there previously by the wife. He slips, wife throws pillow under him to prevent a cranial traumatism and the subsequent assault charges. Wife trips on something the husband placed next to her bedside (a wire? a rope? two live mice? eh, who cares, I don’t remember). Some other murder attempts ensue on the staircase, and they finally get seated, the wife pours triumphantly muesli in her bowl while the husband’s facial expression morphs into ” You killed my kitten, just when the poor dear started to recover from metastatic rectal cancer” when he discovers there’s no cereal left. End of ad.
The idea is actually stolen from Toyota’s spot for the RAV4 (merci Stefan Olaru) but, of course, it’s no match for the original. I mean, come on people. Toyota’s ad is funny, the elements are exaggerated to give a cartoonish feel and their product is a desirable one. Plus the slogan fits the ad. Yours, on the other hand? Everyday people sporting disturbingly happy faces while they try to make their spouse smell the daisies, getting you to wonder why don’t they just grab two kitchen knives and stab each other out of their miseries. And for what? Muesli? Puh-lease.
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