This year the local dealership tried their hands on something other than embarrassing clowns, hot dogs and a department store catwalk in a family entertainment stadium. This is a first-hand account of a local brand product launch gone the other way…

Judging by the crowd who turned up at the local theatre to receive their ‘MINI Clubman tonic’ in order to combat the ‘normal virus’ (by invitation only), it was a mix of older and younger well-to-do,mostly male Perthians, whose wife’s/ GF’s second car was a MINI Cooper S.

The invite said to come in Cocktail dress which was enthusiastically embraced by some and ignored by the many attired in thongs and jeans. The establishment had to line up around the corner outside the old theatre before they were given a dose of red cordial in a water bottle and a plastic cup.

I asked myself if the staff in doctor’s outfit would make us drink the sugar brew and take our urine sample to test if we where already crazy enough and could leave the worn-out foyer.

In the midst of the overcrowded room I managed to wrestle my way through to a waiter with adult drinks. I was not the only one with my tonic bottle in one hand and a champagne glass in the other, whilst everybody stood shoulder to shoulder pretending to have lively conversations. The queue outside was not vanishing so after 15 minutes the sardines situation was relieved by ushering the crowd into the theatre performance room.

The crowd was greeted with a stage screen, a fake laboratory and a veiled Mini car. What followed was neither funny, clever nor entertaining.

An introduction via screen of the advertising campaign principles of the ‘The National Bureau of Boredom Prevention’ lectured that the cure for normality is the new MINI clubman.

And in case the esteemed crowd still did not get it, a hired mad Melbournian advertising scientist stumbled onto the stage and rambled off some other platitudes until his assistant turned out to be a wannabe David Copperfield and wished away a female colleague out of a stage box.

I am sure it all made perfect sense until the lady was returned to the box and the scientists left the stage under applause. Audiences were at least relieved of the mental symptoms of stupidity by then.

The scientists were followed by the dealer principal of the MINI garage. He delivered the type of speech that is calling for the emergency attendance of a Toastmaster’s class.

For the rest of us, who might have fallen asleep from the cordial/wine/beer drug cocktail, sudden bangs and sparkles heralded the lifting of the car veil and uncovered the objects of desire.

The dealer had given the signal for a stampede to touch and gawk and drool, which was obviously the expected opposite for ‘normal’.

On a footnote, I estimated a third of the audience bolted to the exit as soon as the lights when on. A guy on crutches spent more than 20 minutes standing in the queue unnoticed by event staff.

The dealership staff seemed to have had the most fun, as some of them helped themselves to alcohol before the guests and they were fairly plastered while they went around with lists to sign up interested victims for test drives in upcoming weeks. A lot of the ‘tonic’ bottles were left untouched at the scene.

Can somebody please explain the difference between ‘brand experience’ versus ’sales pitch’ to the local Marketing mob? Did anyone check last year’s feedback on the clowns and hot dogs?

But maybe Perth audience deserve to be spoon fed a diet of platitudes that indicate owning this product makes them special and individualistic, when in reality the communication goes through extremely conventional media channels and is not at all clever or innovative.

I know that will I opt out of the next round of product launches from my local car dealer. Or maybe I should continue to watch the local demise of a clever global brand.
Officially, the event ended after 2 hours. What did this do for the brand reputation?