Did you see Imported from Detroit, the new Chrysler commercial during the Superbowl? If not, you’ve surely heard or read about it and have possibly already seen the much less striking, shortened version on TV.
In case you’ve been living under a rock, here it is in all its 2-minute glory:
The commercial starts off with some place-establishing shots of industry along with a gruff, defiant voiceover that asks, “What does this city know about luxury, huh? What does a town that’s been to hell and back know about the finer things in life?”
“You see, it’s the hottest fires that make the hardest steel.” And, a shot of the Joe Louis sculpture in downtown Detroit:
“Add hard work, conviction, and a know-how that runs generations deep in every last one of us.” The accompanying visuals include shots of Diego Rivera’s The Detroit Industry frescoes at the Detroit Institute of Arts:
The seemingly artless footage of the city includes neither the requisite “glamour” shots nor the Detroit ruin porn that’s en vogue right now. The pans are sloppy, the focus is haphazard, the framing seems accidental, and the movements, obviously shot while driving, are jerky. Shots of downtown aren’t melodramatically deserted — they show some people but make no effort at convincing the audience that the city is teeming with life. In short, the footage looks as though it could have been hastily shot by an amateur. Of course, that’s not how Superbowl commercials are made.
I hate to say it, but the unsentimental artlessness of the Detroit footage feels honest. The pride of the voiceover rings true. As much as calling a commercial authentic is paradoxical, this one manages to bring a measure of authenticity to its subject, that being not just the car or the brand, or a generic patriotism, but a celebration of Detroitness, warts and all.
Intercut with the gritty city footage are the obligatory shots of the car — sleek curves emerging from blackness, the kinds of shots that evoke luxury because we’ve seen them countless times in car commercials. The soundtrack slowly shifts to Lose Yourself, and eventually Eminem emerges as the driver. This is significant not just because he’s a famous Detroiter, but because he’s a comeback kid, which is obviously the hope of Chrysler and the entire US auto industry. The song isn’t just an obvious Eminem song — it’s from his quasi-biopic 8 Mile, and it’s a bona fide fighting song.
This beautiful shot finally marries the sexy car footage with the city, as Eminem parks in front of the Fox Theatre:
The chorus takes the mood of the commercial over the top. For me, the melodrama of this moment is the weak point in the entire commercial, cheaply tugging on our heart strings:
Finally, Eminem gets to have his “Uncle Sam” moment with, “This is the Motor City, and this is what we do.” It’s comforting to know that the comeback kid is still a self-righteous punk who takes himself too seriously. Some things never change.
In case you can’t tell, this commercial really struck a chord with me. Of course, I’m not thinking about bailouts or Fiat, just assessing the commercial itself. If you’re looking to delve deeper into the 8 Mile reference, check out my thoughts about that film, which I liked in spite of myself, or listen to Eminem’s Lose Yourself, which really is an excellent song.
Department of Everyday Visualingual 
My only wish is that this commercial highlighted the Chrysler 300 at the end, which just went under the knife and came out more Audi for 2011. The new (Sebring) “200” refresh featured had minor cosmetic revision for 2011 and is still a craptacular car underneath. One that Eminem would never drive.
I liked the whole Detroit Pride thing but the car shots looked like, as you put it, obligatory. When I was a kid Detroit was something to aspire to. My head was full of GTOs, Mustangs & Corvettes. This car just looked like any other modern car from anywhere.
Agreed. As a car commercial, it wasn’t very effective. I really couldn’t tell enough about the car itself — within a two-minute span, surely there was enough time to show more.
I actually think that car companies need to drastically rethink their products, which this didn’t do. Still, I appreciate the approach.
I suspected you’d write about this and you don’t disappoint. I do like the spot overall, bombastic and proud and myth-driven as it is. What I don’t like is the tired way in which black people (and people of color) are treated. Cliche: portly, deeply dark doorman. Cliche: black choir beckoning, a cadre of magic Negroes offering salvation for the white innocent. Cliche: White sylph spinning on ice, the picture of delicacy. The only contemporary element is that of the white rapper, gritty but safe. In a city that is overwhelmingly black, black people still can’t be in the literal driver’s seat. Even the one well-dressed apparently well-off black man is walking across the wasteland, walking through the cold, gazing at the white man’s car. And the Middle Eastern population of Detroit? What Middle Eastern population of Detroit?
Alexis, you’re absolutely right. I was so preoccupied by the representation of the city that I pretty much completely glossed over its people.