Going to college is sometimes a chance to progress your career and sometimes it’s a chance to progress your liver failure. From this commercial, you wouldn’t be able to guess either of those things. Hell, I’m not even quite sure what Education Connection is except for your life’s deus ex machina when it comes to making $25,000 more a year. Wait, did the commercial say that I’d be making $25,000 more a year, no questions asked? Education Connection rules!
The commercial starts out with this “artsy” shot of a turntable being replaced by a spinning circular tray, a tray that belongs to a restaurant that apparently only serves fucking copious amounts of ketchup and mustard. The singer in the commercial is performing in front of a green screen of her former waitress self, one that walks back and forth just to illustrate how much walking back and forth she did at her last job. Man, it sure looks busy at this weird, condiment-themed restaurant, what with all that pacing out in and out of frame that she’s doing. And she’s only making hourly wages? Are the benefits good, or are they just ketchup?
She scribbles something that very obviously isn’t a dollar sign and then turns it around to reveal that it’s a dollar sign! Hey, lady. I know that you work at a fake restaurant that, instead of handing out menus, just hands you bottles of ketchup and mustard and tells you to have a nice day, but could you take your damn job just a tad more seriously? Maybe you’d progress more in your career if you’d spend a little more time passing out people’s ketchup and a little less time writing vague symbols on your work materials.
She says that she went to high school but “didn’t do great,” and if I’m to take this commercial literally, the one class she took in high school was Dance. Her choreography is limited to one step: walking to the center of the screen and raising her arms, either to point out the words or look like she’s pointing out words that don’t exist.
They also do the subtle visual trick of changing her clothes when they get to the hopeful part of the story line. She drops her waitress outfit and gets put into a stunning t-shirt and jeans combo. Boom, see how much happier she is now that she can dress casually? That’s what getting a degree will do for you. You can drop the costume and wear t-shirts, and, really, isn’t that what higher education is for in the first place?
The three props that they use to symbolize Education Connection are a diploma, a laptop that isn’t turned on and a spinning chair, the international symbol for the advantages of getting a degree. I also like the way that they directly advertise the website, by having the singer walk out onto a giant Education Connection carpet. All that’s missing from this commercial is an explanation of what the website actually does. I see $25,000 and hear all these words like “degree,” “tests,” “direction,” and “salary,” but what are these supposed to mean to me? Education Connection promises none of these things for me. Apparently, it’s just a website that says that yes, I’d want to be an engineer, so I should go to this college. That’s helpful, I guess, but it’s not really providing anything really special except a service for those allergic to typing the word “Google” into their browser.
They finish the commercial by hitting on some amazing guitars, and if you weren’t dancing in front of your desk before, now is the best time to start. Meanwhile, from the “handbook” it appears that what you’re getting for free would usually be valued at around $100, which is almost certainly a made-up number. Where is this number coming from? I don’t want to pay $100 to be told that I should probably take a computer literacy course at some school in Arizona from my couch in South Carolina, but even more so, I wouldn’t want to pay $1000 dollars for it. They might as well say “Blood Value!” I don’t want to give away my blood to find the right college! I should use Education Connection. They seem to be offering something.