Swim Black (Marco Against The Pint)

Jonathan Glazer might have been responsible for an impressive percentage of the really memorable TV and cinema ads from the turn of the millennium, but it wouldn't be terribly controversial to suggest that the absolute cream of the crop was the trilogy of ads he directed for Guinness as part of their "Good Things Come To Those Who Wait" campaign. Some of them resonated with the public better than others - viewers awed by the bold metaphors of "Surfer" were simply baffled by the surrealist garnishings of "Dream Club" - but all are classics in their own right. Nothing ever quite scratched the same daringly inventive itch as Glazer's visions of the enigmas that lurked within those Guinness glasses.

Devised by Abbott Mead Vickers in 1998, the thinking behind the "Good Things" campaign was to take what was then perceived as the Irish stout's most crippling negative - the extended time required to pour a full pint - and to openly tout it as a virtue. "Swim Black" (or "Swimblack", if you prefer), the ad tasked with first selling the public on this audacious point, explicitly proclaims 119.5 seconds as the length of time the anxious patron looking to wet their whistle must endure. Hence, the ads made under the banner, while eclectic in subject matter, all emphasised the value of patience. Certain elements of the preceding campaign, Ogilvy and Mather's "Not Everything in Black and White Makes Sense", were retained - an appetite for the visually weird and a continuing respect for the uniquely bewildering power of the black and white image were both put to delectable use in "Surfer" and "Dream Club" - but "Swim Black" pulls in a different direction. This is by far the down to earth of Glazer's contributions - it has no stout-swigging squirrels or giggling horses, hinging instead upon a story that's very human and relatable, told with an irresistible wit, a rapid-fire energy and, to top it off, an ingenious twist that manages to be at once hilarious, poignant and triumphant. It is, above all, a tremendously fun piece of advertising. The moody indie tones of Arab Strap, which dominated the later "Black and White" ads, were here traded in for the feverish zest of  Pérez Prado's "Mambo No. 5" (which would penetrate public consciousness even further the following year, when it became the basis for a hit dance track by German singer Lou Bega). This was something of a legacy move on the brand's part, another of Prado's tracks, "Guaglione", having featured in an earlier Guinness ad, "Anticipation" (I haven't covered that one, but the Dancing Man scared the wits out of me as a child, so I'd say it's only a matter of time).

"Swim Black" remains one of the most fondly-remembered installments of the "Good Things" campaign, seriously competing only with "Surfer" for that honor - it seems a lot of people could identify with the plight of ageing professional swimmer Marco, and his yearly battle to keep his (already somewhat mythologised) legacy as an Olympic hero alive. Given that "Black and White" was deliberately conceived as an attempt to make the brand more appealing to younger consumers, "Swim Black" must have seemed like a flight in the face of all that, in centring upon an older man and his fear that the best years of his life will soon be behind him. Marco's Olympic career peaked with him coming in fourth place (meaning that he'd have garnered no medals for his efforts), but he received a champion's welcome on returning to his Italian home town (anonymous, but the ad was shot in Monopoli), and has remained the toast of the community ever since. It's clear that the real crowning glory of Marco's existence lies not in his historic Olympic participation, but in the extended epilogue that's played out among his people on an annual basis. "Swim Black" is narrated by Marco's brother, who goes unnamed, using a pseudo-documentary approach in which his Italian is translated into English by an overlaying voice over. He tells of the beautifully symbiotic relationship that he and Marco have forged - he's opened up a successful bar off the back of his brother's celebrity and, every year, allows Marco to exhibit his aquatic prowess by hosting a popular event in which Marco is tasked with clearing the town bay in faster time than it takes to pour out a pint of Guinness. His brother is responsible for giving the signal for when to start the clock, once Marco has passed on offshore buoy, and year after year Marco just clinches victory over the pint, much to the delight of the mass of spectators who always turn out to see the event.

"Swim Black" anticipates a few of the basic components of "Surfer". Both are stories of men battling the elements to demonstrate their mettle - in both ads, water, although in Marco's case the element is really  the Guinness itself and, by extension, time. "Swim Black" finds a clever means of incorporating the product's infamously long pour time directly into its narrative action, allowing that trademark "Guinness Time" to become the all-important deciding space in which its protagonist's legacy lives or dies. It's also a far more narrative-driven piece than "Surfer", which put more emphasis on its visual poetry and on capturing both the raw intensity of the moment in which our titular surfer sets out to master those horse-shaped waves, and of the urges that propel him into such a formidable arena. In "Swim Black", Marco receives more biographical build-up, and we get a strong flavour of not only who he is, but also his brother and the community as a whole. The intimate angles and punchy edits keep us immersed in the action, giving us a front row of not only what Marco is grappling against, but the enthusiasm he brings out in his audience. There, is evidently, a whole lot riding on Marco's yearly performance - it's not just his own legacy he's fighting to preserve, but also his brother's business and the town's broader sense of identity. Mixed in with the annual jubilation is Marco's trepidation about where all of this might be headed and how, by recreating the same victorious moment over and over, he is in effect setting himself up for inevitable defeat. His body cannot outrun the clock forever; Marco is feeling his age and has confided in his brother that he suspects the year may soon be coming in which the pint will have the last laugh.

Marco's fears look to be unfounded, however, as his brother assures him that he will NEVER lose. This takes us to our big twist, where we cut back to the start of the race to reveal that the brother is (presumably unbeknownst to Marco) giving him an increasingly generous head start every year. Judging by the gap already between Marco and that buoy, we can infer that if the race were being timed correctly, then Marco would have lost some years ago. That, though, is not what anybody wants to see, which is why it will not be allowed to happen. In actuality, the annual event is not a test of Marco's enduring physical prowess, but a testament to the town's willingness to remain insulated in that same wonderful moment, even if it has by all rights long passed.

There's a thread of melancholy nestled somewhere amid the ad's fearless vigor - the acknowledgement that we all grow old, and that change is inevitable - but it's all ultimately subverted. What's important about this twist is that, while it technically does come at Marco's expense, it's presented less as a cheat than as a cunning way of adapting to change and of circumventing the unwelcome disruption to the town's annual festivities. Marco's successful arrival at the bar before the pint has finished pouring, by whatever means, represents a victory over time, and his brother is merely doing his bit to make that ongoing victory possible. One suspects that the entire town, and not just the narrator, may be in on the ruse. At the very least, they're not concerned if the outcome is genuine. For them, it's just about inhabiting a moment so joyful that you can't blame them for wanting it to last as long as it can.

There were at least two different versions of this ad - the full 90 second version and a 60 second edit that omitted some of the biographical information about Marco (including the detail that he came fourth in his historic Olympic race), focusing instead on the town's present-day tradition. Also removed was the moral supplied by the narrator: "It takes 119.5 seconds to pour the perfect pint...but the best time is kept when you don't wind your watch too tightly." A seemingly contradictory statement advising that we will better make the most of our time wherever we don't get too hung up on its passing (hence, you shouldn't be too concerned about how long it will take for your pint of stout to pour). The ad itself is certainly a glittering example of ageing gracefully - amazing to think that it's already exceeded a quarter-century and time has put not a chink in it. It still feels as fresh and invigorating today as it did back in 1998. Some moments really do deserve to stay perfectly preserved forever.