I’ve always had a deep appreciation for the power of subversion.
The term falls in and out of fashion, probably due to its duplicitous nature. To be subversive can be synonymous with being deceptive or deceitful, and its most common negative connotations deal with corruption in politics and power. You'll find it lumped in with other equally un-American-sounding words like "propaganda," "infiltration," or "dissent."
As it pertains to creative marketing, however, subversion is disruptive. It actively rebels against the sanitized, predictable rules of its own medium to grab the attention of a deeply cynical audience.
At its core, subversion in marketing works because it breaks the fourth wall of capitalism. Modern consumers are battered by thousands of promotions, opportunities, and deals a day. We have become, as a species, incredibly ad-blind and skeptical.
So when a brand steps out of the traditional "buy our product now because it will fix your life" framework and mocks itself, its competitors, or the very concept of advertising instead, it immediately disarms the consumer.
In today's highly manicured marketing landscape, ad content and brand builders that challenge us feel much more rare with each passing day. But when it hits the mark—which is what you've been looking at as we work our way down the page here—I think the results transcend advertising to become a piece of pop culture history.
That's precisely the lightning in a bottle that Japanese medical equipment manufacturer Eizo and German advertising agency Butter captured with their viral pin-up skeleton campaign.
In 2010, when this short-run marketing lead was released, the industry was obsessed with manufactured spectacle. Social platforms were asserting dominance, brands were desperate to trigger virality, and MTV was actively draining brain cells from the American public with each new reality TV offering.
Against that backdrop, German agency Butter received an unglamorous brief: sell high-resolution medical displays for Eizo to doctors.
At the exact same time, a major cultural controversy was unfolding at airport security checkpoints in America: the nationwide rollout of TSA full-body scanners after the December 2009 Christmas Day bomb attempt. The intrusive nature of the technology dominated headlines and fueled public debate over privacy, exposure, and seeing people "naked" through their clothes.
Keep all that in mind for a hot second and let’s consider the brief itself. According to case studies, the campaign was strictly focused on selling Eizo RadiForce high-resolution diagnostic monitors to physicians and radiologists.
A calendar was, in and of itself, not that unusual. High-end physicians and radiologists are inundated with dense, dry, technical promotional materials: pens, mousepads, and calendars chief among them.
But they rarely receive cheeky or boundary-pushing promotional items, so this risky break from traditional promo material was an instant hit. By combining the whimsy of “x-ray vision” with the bawdy premise of an auto mechanic’s calendar, Butter had created a tongue-in-cheek way to spark conversation about their product.
Hilariously enough, despite the fact that the premise of the campaign was to demonstrate the equipment’s high level of detail, the models for this shoot were 100% fake. The sultry poses, stilettos, and scintillating little organic details were all brought to you courtesy of CGI. (I felt betrayed to learn this at first, I confess. But, since that meant no one had to risk heavy radiation exposure for the sake of a 200-copy medical marketing campaign, I take it back: that was probably the right call.)
CGI or no CGI, the brilliance of the campaign stands. Eizo and Butter’s subversive take on an unremarkable lead magnet proves that even clinical, conservative industries can use creativity and a little levity to build a bigger, better brand.
