The PHD film. A client persective.

Well, it’s been a while since the above hit the interwaves and made everybody really very upset indeed. But just like I analysed X-Factor WAY after it had disappeared from the public conscience, so I’ll give my clientcentricsided opinion now. You know, rather than when it was actually relevant.

The film opens with a pretty terrifying demand: If you work in marketing, you’d better start upping your game. Because you’ve never seen anything like us before.

Well, that’s a fact. I have definitely never seen anything like these kids before. It’s perhaps unfair to be critical of people who are still in the first flush of youth, awkwardly growing into their faces, finding their way in the world but…you know…fuck it. I have never seen anything like these kids before. This is the truth. They look they’re from a stage school in fucking Stepford.

Especially this kid:

And this one:

And this one:

Terrifying. All of them. Especially the last one. That dental work looks like it was done by  a James Bond villain.

Anyway, that aside, these little tinkers are telling me I have to ‘up my game’. What I say to that, simply, is NO I FUCKING DON’T. I’m at the top of my game, as everyone who’s anybody in marketing knows. (And I know that’s a FACT because I’m the only person who’s anybody in marketing, and I definitely think I’m at the top of my game. HA! Argue with that, PHD, you fuckers!)

Anyway, the reason I need to up my game is because these kids want to be able to click on hotels and skirts, or something, and there will be social media aggregators or something, and I need to give them smart, tailored content, and interacting with ads by voice, or something, and…well, it’s the usual stuff innit? The world’s about to end and we’d better all pull our trousers up round our necks, give our balls one last tickle and dive into the nearest bin.

What’s interesting for me, though, is that this pile of dispicible old wank was created by an agency. An agency! You know – the people who are always telling me that I know nothing about advertising and that if they didn’t have sole access to the Lost Secrets of Creative locked in the Castle of Strategy beyond The Unfathomable Swamp of Planning, then I’d produce really rubbish ads. You know, ads as terribly, unremittingly awful as the one PHD did.

In fact, it strikes me that whenever an agency produces anything for itself, you can be confident they’ll produce a turd. Possibly a turd nestling on a bed of donkey spunk. Look at that rash of knob-scrapingly awful agency singalong videos that cropped up a while back. Look at most agency websites. Where’s the fucking creative genius now, you cuntskittles?

I am Dave Knockles. And I think PHD need to up their fucking game, the cheeky cuntpipes.