In The Zone

I was watching some television this weekend — I think the Weather Channel — when I was pleasantly surprised by this interesting commercial.  Have you seen this one yet?

These two friends (I think they’re meant to be neighbors — their relationship is ambiguous) are seen visiting an auto parts store.  A smooth baritone voice says: “After a trip to their local auto store for parts and some helpful advice, Bernie and Jose were ready to knuckle down and tackle a much-needed brake job.”

We see a close-up of Bernie in the flannel shirt offering a hand to his partner José in the olive henley.  José slaps his pal’s out-stretched hand, similar to a wrestling Tag Team exchanging places in the ring — which emphasizes the intimate, trusting, homo-social relationship between the two men.

Next they are in a garage (are they room-mates?) finishing up a brake job.  The narrator explains: “This shot in the arm made Bernie and José feel like they could muscle through anything.”

The implication is that visiting the auto parts store imbued these two schmoes with a dose of masculine confidence.

Note the usage of colorful, aggressive terms to describe this situation: the men are ready to “knuckle down,” “tackle,” and “muscle through anything” — phrases meant to evoke violence, fighting, and dominance.  The “shot in the arm” was apparently a shot of pure testosterone, because Bernie and José suddenly gain the ability to repair a car like traditional Real Men, their successful relationship evidenced by the ease at which they finish the job (they’re still in the same clothing so it must still be the same day.)

Again the buddies slap their hands, but this time they’re magically transformed into a pair of pro wrestlers in matching yellow trunks and black wrist-bands.  No longer humdrum, run-of-the mill soccer dads, their masculinity is now on display as they stand proudly bare-chested together in flamboyant outfits.

I suppose the two unfit men are meant to be clownish and silly to us, their pudgy bodies exposed in over-sized yellow spandex.  But I don’t see them as ridiculous at all — quite the opposite.  I was caught off guard by this sudden display of  honest, matter-of-fact man-flesh in classic pro gear.  After I swallow hard, I notice Bernie’s sexy big nipples and José’s adorable beard.

The intent of the commercial is to present the act of buying auto parts and wrenching on cars (and wrestling other dudes) as Real Man behavior — markers of Alpha Male dominance and sexual prowess.  The transformation of regular Guys-Next-Door into pro wrestlers (the ultimate Real Men), confidently shirtless and ready to rumble in traditional spandex trunks, symbolizes the attainment of idealized masculinity, reaching the Promised Land of true manhood.

I love it when the imagery of pro wrestling invades mainstream media, the presentation of tag team wrestlers serving as short-hand for power, potency, and manhood.  The scene is also meant to catch the attention of male viewers, turning them on with the promise of shirtless wrestling in order to sell more products.

Next, a pair of brutish muscle-men enter the garage to challenge our heroic Baby-Faces — a huge hunk in shiny white tights and a bald Mr. Clean wanna-be with gigantic pecs.  Bernie and José are clearly out-manned.

What are these four men into?  Do they regularly gear up and wrestle each other in their garage?

You might recognize the threatening black wrestler who has invaded this peaceful neighborhood as Shad Gaspard, formerly of the blinged-out, gangsta Tag Team known as Cryme Tyme in the WWE.  He could destroy  both Bernie and José by himself!

I’m not sure who his hunky Tag Team partner is — the hard-ass baldie with that mean looking Fu Manchu mustache.  Can anybody recognize him?

The message seems to be that buying auto parts converts you into a Real Man, and Real Men do fun things like fix cars, strip off their shirts, and fight other Real Men.  The reward for accepting masculinity is the pleasure of getting to tussle shirtless with other dudes (after the work is done of course.)

An electric guitar strums as the two teams prepare to lock up.  The baldies look spectacular and dangerous with their thick muscles oiled and flexing.

Bernie and José are presented as a pair of jobbers — out-matched chumps, their soft pale bodies vulnerable to abuse.  The scene evokes a classic pro wrestling trope: the untrained Regular Guy tossed in the ring with a veteran wrestler who can tear him limb from limb.

Bernie and José may be out-matched, but to me, they appear fun to wrestle around with.  If they were my neighbors, I’d be over at their garage all the time helping them finish their work so we could put on our pro gear and rassle for a while.

The commercial ends with José diving fearlessly toward his opponents — actually toward us the viewers — his arms open to embrace us.  Our take-away is that his power has been bolstered by doing manly things like fixing a car and hanging around with his boy Bernie.  He is in “The Zone” — the ideal state of masculine effectiveness and potency. A promise is made that, with some help, we too can get in The Zone (“We’ll help you get there.”)

No wives or girlfriends are seen anywhere in the Zone.  The only image of family life, a pink stroller, was tossed aside by one of the bad-ass attackers. The vibe is an ideal male-only playground, the excitement of  getting shirtless with your buds and wrassling around in your garage.

We never get to see the two teams actually lock up; the intent is to leave us wanting more.  If we want to see what happens next, we understand we can go purchase some auto parts and pro wrestling gear, and then invite our own neighbors over for some manly fun.

I guess I know where I’ll be purchasing any needed auto parts from now on.  I support any company that uses hot pro wrestling in its marketing, or that knows how to turn me on with their commercials.  Sex sells, after all.