The more I thought about that commercial, the stranger it felt
Do you ever wonder why Jon Hamm is doing ads for Skip The Dishes?
The spectacle of last weekend’s Super Bowl left audiences with plenty of questions. For instance, is Tom Brady a fleshand-blood human being, or some sort of ageless extraterrestrial sent down from outer space to overtake Earth? Why didn’t The Weeknd’s backup dancers have to socially distance, or did those facial bandages also function as COVID masks? And for Canadian viewers, specifically, who are forced to endure second-rate commercials every year: Why is Jon Hamm appearing in advertisements for Skip The Dishes, a Winnipeg-based food delivery company?
Following the game, that last question continued to haunt me. After all, Hamm won an Emmy (and international acclaim) for his portrayal of Don Draper, a cutthroat 1960s Madison Avenue ad executive, in the period television drama “Mad Men.”
He’s an A-list Hollywood actor. And that’s probably why it was so jarring, both for myself and countless other Canadians — whether they were actual NFL fans or just regular people looking for a little distraction from, well, you know — to see Hamm, playing a goofy version of himself, in an ad about “Bressert” (a portmanteau of breakfast and dessert).
In the 30-second clip, Hamm’s assistant, Brandon, serves him a piece of cheesecake topped with whipped cream, at 9 a.m. When the assistant questions why Hamm is eating dessert so early in the morning, Hamm says:
“I don’t live by society’s rules, Brandon. Who said breakfast can’t have dessert? Also, sir Reginald J. Brunchlington, Earl of Brunch Manor, is not the only person allowed to make up a meal. This is my legacy.”
“Bressert is your legacy?” asks Brandon.
It’s worth mentioning — particularly for those who haven’t watched it — that the commercial is supposed to be funny. Whether it has that impact, I suppose, depends on the audience, but one thing is for certain: this isn’t Hamm’s best source material. And the more I thought about the commercial, the stranger it seemed.
I tried to imagine other actors of Hamm’s calibre, icons of TV’s golden age, shilling for Canadian brands. I thought of Bryan Cranston working the Tim Hortons drive-thru. Or James Gandolfini selling hockey sticks for Canadian Tire. None of it made sense. Then I attempted to discern whether Don Draper, the fake ad man, would ever approve of this real-life SkipHamm collaboration — but merging the fictional “Mad Men” universe with reality caused my brain to explode.
I needed to figure out why Hamm was doing these commercials, so I reached out to SkipTheDishes, hoping to speak with Hamm, only to find out that they were “not able to facilitate an interview.” Fair enough. But without speaking to him, I would need to rely on highly scientific methods of speculation to arrive at a conclusion.
First, the most obvious explanation is that Hamm wanted money, which is generally a pretty powerful motivator. It’s a simple transaction: Hamm provides his time, likeness and acting abilities, in exchange for a huge pile of cash from the SkipTheDishes marketing budget. Now, I’m not a celebrity, but I’m pretty sure that being the face of a national campaign for a big company like SkipTheDishes would be worth millions of dollars. That type of windfall should be reason enough for Hamm to participate.
That said, I find it hard to believe that Hamm is overly motivated by money at this point in his career. The 49-year-old reportedly made $250,000 per episode at one point during “Mad Men.” He’s been in a bunch of movies. He made millions from his voice-overs for American Airlines and Mercedes Benz, who produced ads that perfectly featured his smoky-velvety voice. And if Hamm really needed money, he could always just work with AA or Benz, which have a U.S. presence and better align with Hamm’s brand of confident American cool. But he went with SkipTheDishes, which suggests that Hamm wanted something more than a payout.
Hamm is the ultimate all American guy. He’s from St. Louis, Mo. He’s a devout baseball fan and often wears vintage baseball caps. Take a look at his high school football photo — it’s like the marketing teams at Tommy Hilfiger and Dick’s Sporting Goods had a baby. But whether he likes it or not, he might be remembered as Don Draper forever.
But in the SkipTheDishes ads, which actually predate the pandemic, the big joke is that Hamm thinks he’s Canadian. He wears Canadian tuxedos, enjoys poutine, tries to pronounce “oui.” In a lot of ways, it seems these commercials were conceived as a platform for Hamm’s comedic side.
Which brings me to my theory as to how this SkipTheDishes campaign came about. It’s reasonable to assume that Hamm is constrained by his cultural identity. Whether he likes it or not, he might be remembered as Don Draper forever, trapped in the public consciousness as a joyless ad exec drinking oldfashioneds and wearing finely tailored suits.
These commercials give Hamm an opportunity to flex his funny bone, in a non-supporting role, while subverting the public’s expectations by playing a character who’s the opposite of his Hollywood caricature. Real-life Hamm is thoroughly American, Skip Hamm wants desperately to be Canadian. Hamm is best known for a serious dramatic role, Skip Hamm takes nothing seriously, except, of course, the benefits of using a third-party delivery app.
This theory also vindicates anyone who felt like the commercials seemed a bit strange. Hamm deliberately sought out a character with attributes that would challenge what people already thought of him. The awkwardness that pervades the ad campaign is the whole point.
At first, I thought, ‘Why the hell is Jon Hamm doing this?’ But now I realize that even if I had the opportunity to ask Hamm, his answer would be ‘Exactly.’ He wants us to question it.
Late in my research, I stumbled upon one of Hamm’s interviews with Men’s Journal from 2014. In it, he refers to his roles in comedic shows: “That stuff is honestly far more who I am as a person. I like to laugh and have a good time, rather than brood and be sullen.”
I tried to imagine other actors of Hamm’s calibre, icons of TV’s golden age, shilling for Canadian brands