Amica Insurance is a repeat offender. They re-use one of two tired music tracks again and again, and frequently run back-to-back 15 second spots instead of one 30-second spot. The back-to-backs will be identical in music, production design and color palette – and differ only in the appropriately diverse sparkling spokesperson and the aspect of Amica awesomeness they wish to highlight.
In an earlier and especially awful 15-second ad, a middle-aged woman looks directly at the camera and confidently decrees, “I’m a value-seeking missile.” Who talks like this? Certainly not vaguely Hispanic women in pants-suits. No, this is the made-up language of Amicaville, a land in which all persons reflect daily – nay – hourly on how amazing it is to have Amica car insurance.
Now, it’s gone beyond something for your co-worker to validate when you bring up your telephone insurance quote inappropriately in the workplace. It’s moved past the knowing approval of a mysteriously clean car repair man when you take your vehicle in for repairs. These days, it’s the feelings you get just having Amica insurance that really sets them apart.
The feelings apparently have nothing to do with blowing bubbles, flying kites with your children, eating ice cream, showering your family with gifts extracted from your Prius, frolicking with your trusted yellow lab, buying your son his first pet fish, taking your daughter to a Halloween party, cruising the highway in your convertible or snuggling with a loved one. Those activities are feelings-neutral. But Amica, well – that’s where the feelings are.