Tag Groups used in Events

The video begins with the 2022 Beijing Olympics emblem, which then the main woman "flies" through. She continues to float through space, with the Great Wall, ski lifts, and snow in the background, and then flies through the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics logo. As she moves through it, her clothes transform from skiing clothes to a generic East-asian dress. From this sequence, we see that the video is taking the audience back in time to past Winter Olympics locations. This is a strong notion, as it reminds us of how the Winter Olympics began a little over a century ago. However, we can see several inconsistencies already in the video: the windows on the Great Wall are misshapen and disjoint, colors vanish at random, and the ski lifts' details become lost at odd places. Not only that, but the dress that the woman wears for the PyeongChang sequence is also bizarre detail, since it is not quite specific to Korean culture. We can assume that this inconsistency would not have been included had there been more human involvement in the final product.

After the woman flies off, we move to the 2014 Sochi Olympics logo, set against a wide shot of snowy mountains and a lake. Here, the video's style changes. Whereas the Beijing and PyeongChang Olympics had cartoon-y elements, the landscape for this featured Winter Olympics is in a photorealistic style. In fact, after we move on from this shot to the 2010 Vancouver Olympics, the style changes again. The background for the Vancouver Olympics is forested — perhaps to prompt the audience to recall Canada's vast national parks — and here it is presented in an infographic style. These two sequences (and the Beijing sequence) feature elements of each respective country's natural landscapes. What becomes confusing is the shift in style. From the animated style from before to the photorealistic mountains to the simplified forest, it's confusing why the video even changes style in the first place. Not only that, but why is the woman not in these scenes?

As we move onto the 2006 Torino Olympics, the woman appears again, snowboarding across the screen with the Olympic colors trailing behind her. Her hair is now multicolored instead of brown, and the Torino Olympics emblem includes the tagline "Passion Lives Here." This adds to the continual inconsistencies that we see throughout this video. Taking the woman's hair color, for instance, we can reason that this is an artistic liberty, but we still have questions: What is its purpose? Why did the people in charge of creating this video/the AI generator make her hair that way? And why does this Olympic logo get a tagline, but we didn't see that with the others? With this, we can see that this video seems to do only the bare minimum — show past Winter Olympic events and their emblems. There is not much consistency in style, theme, or plot, asides from the woman. But, even with that, her design seems to change.

We see a snowy mountain range for the 2002 Salt Lake City Olympics, then a bird flies around and perches on a pair of ski poles for the 1998 Nagano Olympics. Once again, these sequences are photorealistic. It seems this video aims to showcase iconic aspects of these locations, but it's inconsistent. It succeeds in this goal with the Salt Lake City Olympics by featuring the city's mountains, which it is known for, while it fails with the Nagano Olympics — we are not sure what significance the bird or mountains have in Japan. Additionally, the rings here with the Nagano Olympics logo violate Olympic ring rules (their colors cannot be altered). It potentially takes away from the International Olympic Committee's credability; how could they violate their own rules? This is a huge error that, again, would likely not have happened had there been more human involvement in this video's creation.

Here, the woman appears again, sledding through a burst of orange and pink. We only get a split second of the 1994 Lillehammer Olympics logo before moving on to the woman figure skating. Posters with past Olympic emblems lay around her, including those of the 1992 Albertville, 1988 Calgary, 1984 Sarajevo, and 1980 Lake Placid Winter Olympics. This is the first time that multiple past Olympics are being featured at once. Arguably, this detail detracts from the video's quality, as it likely makes the audience wonder why these events did not get their own feature — perhaps they were running out of time and had to rush certain parts? To an extent, this inconsistency suggests a bias towards/against past games.

Now we have the 1976 Innsbruck Olympics, with the woman ski jumping off the logo. As she is midair, we zoom in on her eye. We move through her iris, transitioning into the 1972 Sapporo Olympics logo. We quickly move past this sequence to the next. With these two Olympic events, we see even more inconsistencies with what the video (either by oversight and/or AI-generated happenstance) decides to include. For example, the Innsbruck logo includes the dates of the Olympic events, while most of the other logos do not. The Sapporo Olympics doesn't even get its own special sequence — it's just the logo we get to see. Because of this, the message of how amazing past events were does not effectively come through here, and it doesn't allow the audience to feel moved in any way.

We get a rapid-fire sequence of morphing logos: the Sapporo Olympics quickly transforms into the 1968 Grenoble Olympic logo, which transforms into the 1964 Innsbruck Olympic logo, then to the 1960 Squaw Valley Olympics, and finally into the 1956 Cortina d'Ampezzo Olympics. Each of these shots lasts less than a second, making it difficult to understand which logo corresponds to each, especially for those unfamiliar with past Olympic logos, which is likely the majority of the audience. This sequence is jarring, since, before, we were able to sit with each past event a bit longer. All that these featured events have is a mere snippet. This makes the video even more perplexing, given that these events clearly do not receive equal time. The audience doesn’t get a chance to sit with each past game long enough to understand its significance in isolation or in relation to everything else.

We have the 1952 Oslo Olympics, represented by the Olympic and Norwegian flags propped up on ski poles. We can see some mechanical inaccuracies with how the Olympic flag moves. The Olympic rings on this flag seem distorted by some movements, and the black ring even turns blue. Two figures ski, and fireworks light up the night sky as the 1948 Moritz Olympics graphic appears. Again, this sequence is full of visual inaccuracies. At 00:00:49, specifically, white fragmented shapes appear to the left, and it's unclear as to what they are supposed to be. This is another reminder that the AI generator is unable to fully realize the visual elements of this narrative.

The main woman reappears, surrounded by posters featuring the 1936 Garmisch-Partenkirchen and 1932 Lake Placid Olympics. Note that the Garmisch-Partenkirchen poster used in this shot mimics the one produced by Ludwig Hohlwein, a member of the Nazi Party and a prominent propaganda artist at the time. While the poster does not itself contain any directly problematic content, it nonetheless carries weight given the artist, the stylization, and the historical context. It’s a dark reminder of the time period leading up to World War II. One should wonder why the IOC allowed this detail to be included. They themselves know about the historical background of each game, and it's strange that this sequence ignores the complex nature of the games at this time. For that matter, there is no incorporation of the history of the games in this ceremonial video. There is no real significance given to any of the events, and it's ironic that a video meant to "go back in time" does not give importance to actual Olympic history. The poster is yet another example of oversight over what the AI generator happened to produce. It reminds us that the generator is unaware of context beyond what it is prompted to do.

A poster-like graphic featuring the 1928 St. Moritz Olympics unfolds, and then quickly transitions to the woman playing hockey. There are several other hockey players whose faces have lost or distorted features. The woman shoots the hockey puck, leading to a surreal depiction of a phoenix with a 1924 Chamonix Olympics border. This is a recreation of the original Chamonix Olympics promotional poster, and what lies beyond the borders in this video is the generator's estimation. We can assume that the amorphous yellow cluster at the bottom right of the frame is supposed to be more bobsledders that the AI generator could not properly represent. We suddenly cut to the woman standing on the phoenix. She falls, lands in the snow, and we end here. The ending, like several other aspects of this video, is frankly bizarre. While not necessarily disturbing or obviously confusing, there's simply no clear reason given for why the video should end this way. The audience who first saw this at the opening ceremony was full of athletes, who should have been able to feel empowered by the history of the Olympics, which is full of struggles and triumphs. But, the video has no clear point of view. It fails to produce an effective narrative with a dynamic storyline. It accomplishes displaying various past Olympic posters or emblems, but it falls short in conveying how incredible it is that the Winter Olympics have been around, showcasing international athletic talent, for a century now.

A man is sent through his window after a Christmas tree set-up error, where he breaks through the glass and lands on the snow. The physics of this launch have a tinge of inaccuracy that throw off the scene. Following his landing, the man joins in on the singing. Again, we feature a humorous situation that corresponds to the borderline slanderous attack that McDonald’s is advocating for. And, if it was not apparent before, the synthetic media attracts attention here for its imprecision—instilling a sour taste in the audience’s mouth that is embellished by the already contentious theme. Although, from McDonald’s optimistic point-of-view, there is a continuous playfulness that they hope is appealing to their audience.

This next scene has since become the embodiment of the ad, showing a bizarre fisheye lens shot of two grandparents getting very close and personal with their grandson—all the while exposing their mouths and teeth. It is a very grotesque look that incites visceral disgust from many of the audience. This scene would face the most widespread criticism, specifically regarding the uncanny scenes of open-mouthed grandparents. Of these comments were concerns with the obviously AI generated content, while others, simply, were grossed out. McDonald’s would miss their mark, as their strategy to crafting a relatable and funny ad would push too hard in this instance, inciting widespread upset.

The video begins with the 2022 Beijing Olympics emblem, which then the main woman "flies" through. She continues to float through space, with the Great Wall, ski lifts, and snow in the background, and then flies through the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics logo. As she moves through it, her clothes transform from skiing clothes to a generic East-asian dress. From this sequence, we see that the video is taking the audience back in time to past Winter Olympics locations. This is a strong notion, as it reminds us of how the Winter Olympics began a little over a century ago. However, we can see several inconsistencies already in the video: the windows on the Great Wall are misshapen and disjoint, colors vanish at random, and the ski lifts' details become lost at odd places. Not only that, but the dress that the woman wears for the PyeongChang sequence is also bizarre detail, since it is not quite specific to Korean culture. We can assume that this inconsistency would not have been included had there been more human involvement in the final product.

After the woman flies off, we move to the 2014 Sochi Olympics logo, set against a wide shot of snowy mountains and a lake. Here, the video's style changes. Whereas the Beijing and PyeongChang Olympics had cartoon-y elements, the landscape for this featured Winter Olympics is in a photorealistic style. In fact, after we move on from this shot to the 2010 Vancouver Olympics, the style changes again. The background for the Vancouver Olympics is forested — perhaps to prompt the audience to recall Canada's vast national parks — and here it is presented in an infographic style. These two sequences (and the Beijing sequence) feature elements of each respective country's natural landscapes. What becomes confusing is the shift in style. From the animated style from before to the photorealistic mountains to the simplified forest, it's confusing why the video even changes style in the first place. Not only that, but why is the woman not in these scenes?

As we move onto the 2006 Torino Olympics, the woman appears again, snowboarding across the screen with the Olympic colors trailing behind her. Her hair is now multicolored instead of brown, and the Torino Olympics emblem includes the tagline "Passion Lives Here." This adds to the continual inconsistencies that we see throughout this video. Taking the woman's hair color, for instance, we can reason that this is an artistic liberty, but we still have questions: What is its purpose? Why did the people in charge of creating this video/the AI generator make her hair that way? And why does this Olympic logo get a tagline, but we didn't see that with the others? With this, we can see that this video seems to do only the bare minimum — show past Winter Olympic events and their emblems. There is not much consistency in style, theme, or plot, asides from the woman. But, even with that, her design seems to change.

We see a snowy mountain range for the 2002 Salt Lake City Olympics, then a bird flies around and perches on a pair of ski poles for the 1998 Nagano Olympics. Once again, these sequences are photorealistic. It seems this video aims to showcase iconic aspects of these locations, but it's inconsistent. It succeeds in this goal with the Salt Lake City Olympics by featuring the city's mountains, which it is known for, while it fails with the Nagano Olympics — we are not sure what significance the bird or mountains have in Japan. Additionally, the rings here with the Nagano Olympics logo violate Olympic ring rules (their colors cannot be altered). It potentially takes away from the International Olympic Committee's credability; how could they violate their own rules? This is a huge error that, again, would likely not have happened had there been more human involvement in this video's creation.

Here, the woman appears again, sledding through a burst of orange and pink. We only get a split second of the 1994 Lillehammer Olympics logo before moving on to the woman figure skating. Posters with past Olympic emblems lay around her, including those of the 1992 Albertville, 1988 Calgary, 1984 Sarajevo, and 1980 Lake Placid Winter Olympics. This is the first time that multiple past Olympics are being featured at once. Arguably, this detail detracts from the video's quality, as it likely makes the audience wonder why these events did not get their own feature — perhaps they were running out of time and had to rush certain parts? To an extent, this inconsistency suggests a bias towards/against past games.

Now we have the 1976 Innsbruck Olympics, with the woman ski jumping off the logo. As she is midair, we zoom in on her eye. We move through her iris, transitioning into the 1972 Sapporo Olympics logo. We quickly move past this sequence to the next. With these two Olympic events, we see even more inconsistencies with what the video (either by oversight and/or AI-generated happenstance) decides to include. For example, the Innsbruck logo includes the dates of the Olympic events, while most of the other logos do not. The Sapporo Olympics doesn't even get its own special sequence — it's just the logo we get to see. Because of this, the message of how amazing past events were does not effectively come through here, and it doesn't allow the audience to feel moved in any way.

We get a rapid-fire sequence of morphing logos: the Sapporo Olympics quickly transforms into the 1968 Grenoble Olympic logo, which transforms into the 1964 Innsbruck Olympic logo, then to the 1960 Squaw Valley Olympics, and finally into the 1956 Cortina d'Ampezzo Olympics. Each of these shots lasts less than a second, making it difficult to understand which logo corresponds to each, especially for those unfamiliar with past Olympic logos, which is likely the majority of the audience. This sequence is jarring, since, before, we were able to sit with each past event a bit longer. All that these featured events have is a mere snippet. This makes the video even more perplexing, given that these events clearly do not receive equal time. The audience doesn’t get a chance to sit with each past game long enough to understand its significance in isolation or in relation to everything else.

The main woman reappears, surrounded by posters featuring the 1936 Garmisch-Partenkirchen and 1932 Lake Placid Olympics. Note that the Garmisch-Partenkirchen poster used in this shot mimics the one produced by Ludwig Hohlwein, a member of the Nazi Party and a prominent propaganda artist at the time. While the poster does not itself contain any directly problematic content, it nonetheless carries weight given the artist, the stylization, and the historical context. It’s a dark reminder of the time period leading up to World War II. One should wonder why the IOC allowed this detail to be included. They themselves know about the historical background of each game, and it's strange that this sequence ignores the complex nature of the games at this time. For that matter, there is no incorporation of the history of the games in this ceremonial video. There is no real significance given to any of the events, and it's ironic that a video meant to "go back in time" does not give importance to actual Olympic history. The poster is yet another example of oversight over what the AI generator happened to produce. It reminds us that the generator is unaware of context beyond what it is prompted to do.

A poster-like graphic featuring the 1928 St. Moritz Olympics unfolds, and then quickly transitions to the woman playing hockey. There are several other hockey players whose faces have lost or distorted features. The woman shoots the hockey puck, leading to a surreal depiction of a phoenix with a 1924 Chamonix Olympics border. This is a recreation of the original Chamonix Olympics promotional poster, and what lies beyond the borders in this video is the generator's estimation. We can assume that the amorphous yellow cluster at the bottom right of the frame is supposed to be more bobsledders that the AI generator could not properly represent. We suddenly cut to the woman standing on the phoenix. She falls, lands in the snow, and we end here. The ending, like several other aspects of this video, is frankly bizarre. While not necessarily disturbing or obviously confusing, there's simply no clear reason given for why the video should end this way. The audience who first saw this at the opening ceremony was full of athletes, who should have been able to feel empowered by the history of the Olympics, which is full of struggles and triumphs. But, the video has no clear point of view. It fails to produce an effective narrative with a dynamic storyline. It accomplishes displaying various past Olympic posters or emblems, but it falls short in conveying how incredible it is that the Winter Olympics have been around, showcasing international athletic talent, for a century now.

The opening shot establishes family in car dissatisfied with the holiday season. They are singing this frustration as their presents attached to top of car are knocked off by bridge underpass. The song is a parody of "It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year," establishing familiarity with the viewer—though with a twist. It is a “terrible time of the year” for the family, as McDonalds Netherlands debuts a holiday ad that attempts to playfully jab at the festivities. They seek to connect with the consumer with what they believe to be a relatable dissatisfaction. It is very clear from the beginning that McDonald’s is trying something different, where along with an unexpected theme, generative AI is utilized.

Additional cast of upset people singing about how terrible the holidays are. A cyclist with a Christmas tree is seen falling backwards down a snowy uphill road, and caroling troupe are performing in the rain. The McDonalds’ logo is distinctly visible behind the carolers, as it contrasts the darker values of the scene. Here, McDonald’s is continuing to unite the dissatisfied people of this otherwise happy season, joking with the audience regarding several extreme examples. The funny situations attempt to draw appeal beyond relatedness, as they rely on humor to generate interest in these scenes. The sequence resembles the local weather where this ad would run, attempting to connect with this specific audience on a familiar and relatable topic.

Magical creatures join in on frustration and the song, as a stuffed bear is being fought over, and Santa gets stuck in traffic. The humor continues, as the beloved holiday magic is introduced and shares this familiar seasonal burden. The frantic and pitchy singing of the toy bear inside the store epitomizes this dependance on lighthearted jabs. Furthermore, there is a logic component for the audience that utilizes universal iconography—like Santa and a Christmas teddy bear gift—to express their point. It proposes, “If the Santa Claus is struggling this holiday, then maybe McDonald’s is right!” Yet, early on, without no definite tie-in or statement, it is easy for the message to feel as an unnecessary attack on the beloved character.

A man is sent through his window after a Christmas tree set-up error, where he breaks through the glass and lands on the snow. The physics of this launch have a tinge of inaccuracy that throw off the scene. Following his landing, the man joins in on the singing. Again, we feature a humorous situation that corresponds to the borderline slanderous attack that McDonald’s is advocating for. And, if it was not apparent before, the synthetic media attracts attention here for its imprecision—instilling a sour taste in the audience’s mouth that is embellished by the already contentious theme. Although, from McDonald’s optimistic point-of-view, there is a continuous playfulness that they hope is appealing to their audience.

We see a montage of additional physical chaos, from slipping on ice, to slipping off a roof mid-decoration, to a fire erupting during dinner. The scale and type of disaster is embellishing an already obvious point about the ad—that there is a target audience of adults ranging from 20 to 30. Because we see activities that range from homeowner hassles to bodily harm, can assume an age range that is familiar with both. Furthermore, the Dutch landscape and weather is easily identifiable, and coincides with the region that this ad was released in. The ad carries the same sentiment regarding holiday toil in a slapstick way.

The holiday cookies join in on the singing, with many burnt, showing that even this festive tradition--holiday baking—is often disorganized and upsetting. It further instills the correlation being made between the holidays and the "terrible" times that plague the season, according to McDonald’s. Again, McDonald’s continues their attempts at cracking jokes that fall short in face of a glaring omission in consumer desires. Not only is there a misunderstanding of the potent holiday spirit, that McDonald’s would later admit to in a later statement, but a general disinterest with synthetic media. The silliness of the cookies is apparent, and so are the intentions of the ad, but do not fall into place.

This next scene has since become the embodiment of the ad, showing a bizarre fisheye lens shot of two grandparents getting very close and personal with their grandson—all the while exposing their mouths and teeth. It is a very grotesque look that incites visceral disgust from many of the audience. This scene would face the most widespread criticism, specifically regarding the uncanny scenes of open-mouthed grandparents. Of these comments were concerns with the obviously AI generated content, while others, simply, were grossed out. McDonald’s would miss their mark, as their strategy to crafting a relatable and funny ad would push too hard in this instance, inciting widespread upset.

More montage of disaster ensues, as we see electrical problems, baking messes, and present delivery adversity. The chorus, "It's the most terrible time of the year" repeats as to highlight this point. It is a logos appeal that is once again continued in this video, as we see more instances of disaster being attributed to the holidays. A connection is intended to be made between the viewer and the communicator as not only are they intended to laugh but relate to the intensity of the season. The trope reaches its climax and finale here, as they showcase a chaotic cat, that appeals to a wide audience of animal lovers, along with several other quick scenes that continue a trend of comical issues.

The first smile is flashed on the screen, as the Christmas-tree-redecoration victim finds refuge in a McDonald’s. We finally see a payout for all the opinionated buildup, portraying McDonald’s as a happy place. There is a clear correlation between creating a pleasant holiday experience and attending the restaurant. In this scene McDonald’s involves their audience as stakeholders, stating that McDonald’s could be an escape from the often-disastrous season. The man in the scene is meant to embody that audience, being 20-something year old Dutch adults. His happiness is infectious, juxtaposing the ceaseless disorganization, and is designed to influence the viewer into the same emotion.

A younger couple--perhaps in their 20s--eating inside the McDonald’s, laughing as they enjoy their food and drink. We once again get an idea of the audience that McDonald’s is targeting in this ad, showing two adults sharing a meal—and a smile. It further reinstates that there is a designated audience that is local to the region—and is predominately white. We also get another look at the contribution that McDonald’s is making during the holidays. The tranquility and pleasure that is conveyed is achieved through the restaurant, as it is apparently unable to be found anywhere else. It is once again a logos appeal, as the couple’s happiness is derived from the McDonald’s.

The final shot displays the carolers, once again in front of the McDonalds, singing in pouring rain as we recognize a familiar bleak and dreary Dutch town whose only flashes of color and life are the lights of the McDonald's windows and--of course--its iconic golden arches. A Dutch phrase, translating to “December could use a little McDonald’s” flashes on the screen. This is the tie-in, as we converge all these preceding disasters into a simple tag line and visual that attempts to evoke familiarity. The message cannot be clearer, as we are sought to see McDonald’s as a sanctuary from chaos.

To close out the ad, the familiar McDonalds jingle plays, calling upon their iconic brand recognition. It is a global image that is extremely familiar across culture and continent and is perhaps their most powerful appeal. It produces an image synonymous with joy—in part due to their infamous Happy Meal branding. The end placement suggests that the last moment the viewer shares with the ad should be recognizing McDonald’s as the titan of a brand that it is. It forces the audience to recall who they are, and their image as a restaurant in pursuit of great memories, not just good food. Despite the chaos that ensued in the execution, McDonald’s can always fall back on the power of this iconic chime.

We see a close-up shot "Fembot," who opens a curtain and knocks on the screen to catch the viewers' attention. The close up shot of the fembot creates a sense of intimacy. The knocking of the screen breaks the fourth wall which helps engage the viewers and makes them feel as if they are in that room with them. This creates a playful gesture which helps spark curiosity and humor with the viewers and helps them experience the scene more vividly. This introduces the audience to a party atmosphere and livens up the mood as soon as the opening scene hits.

Video zooms out to a wideshot of Fembot and then shows the "Brobot" as their bodies eject a bottle of Svedka vodka and a cocktail shaker. This shows the obvious exaggerated robot movements and functions while making it somewhat humorous and surreal. The wideshot zoom of the robot and the switch in "gender" for the robots establishes a setting change and sets up for a scene where either robots can now help further introduce the product Svedka. This is shown as the bottle appears in a dramatic fashion that almost seems out of this world due to it being from the robots bodies.

The video then shows the male robot pouring the svedka bottle to the svedka container that the female robot is holding. This shows human like interactions as they prepare to do something with the drink which is later shown. This interaction shows how the product is supposed to be used and uses a logical step by step approach for a preparation of a drink that a bartender might do. This scene also introduces the idea subtly that even robots can party so if they can party, anyone can go out and party with their drinks in mind. Pour, Mix, Fun.

Associates Svedka with fun, as seen with the various clips of people, and robots, dancing with a bottle in hand. Music changes to something more upbeat, party vibes. The change in music stimulates excitement and thoroughly creates a party-like atmosphere. The dancing of the robots and the bottle of svedka creates a more emotional linkage with the audience as they create an atmosphere that is normal despite being robots. This makes the viewers associate svedka with something that is fun, energetic, and something social. This is a common advertising strategy where it entices the audience to buy something in order to feel a certain way.

Fembot dances with the shaker, depicted at the center of the dance floor; Svedka = center of attention. By having the bottle be placed in the center visually implies that it is important. In this case, since the svedka bottle is in the center, it shows that it is important and draws the audiences attention to the product. This reinforces the idea of how svedka is something that the audience should want as it shows desirability and the social status that could possibly come from the product as it would be successful in a party atmosphere, which is a place where social gatherings occur.

Fembot pours drink into Brobot's glass; Brobot drinks and it spills onto his wiring which could be some sort of irony. The way the brobot malfunctions due to the alcohol spilling onto his wires expresses humor as it lightens up the mood. This also can translate to what alcohol does to people, even though people become drink, they are able to express themselves in humorous ways which livens up the party atmosphere. This also helps increase memorability with the audience as it captures a funny image of the ad into their minds. This humorous atmosphere also prevents the ad from feeling too serious which helps keep the audience engaged.

Definitively declares Svedka is a liquor brand. They do this by explicitly stating that svedka is a liquor brand. By doing this, they build credibility as they are clearly stating what their product is in front of millions of people. This also shows and signals the product for legitimacy and reinforces the brand identity and confidence. This also prevents for any misconceptions about the product. By clearly stating that it is a alcoholic drink, it also informs people that it is for adult usage and that it is not a product for younger generations. This makes the audience understand the purpose of the drink how it is supposed to be distributed.

The video begins with the 2022 Beijing Olympics emblem, which then the main woman "flies" through. She continues to float through space, with the Great Wall, ski lifts, and snow in the background, and then flies through the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics logo. As she moves through it, her clothes transform from skiing clothes to a generic East-asian dress. From this sequence, we see that the video is taking the audience back in time to past Winter Olympics locations. This is a strong notion, as it reminds us of how the Winter Olympics began a little over a century ago. However, we can see several inconsistencies already in the video: the windows on the Great Wall are misshapen and disjoint, colors vanish at random, and the ski lifts' details become lost at odd places. Not only that, but the dress that the woman wears for the PyeongChang sequence is also bizarre detail, since it is not quite specific to Korean culture. We can assume that this inconsistency would not have been included had there been more human involvement in the final product.

After the woman flies off, we move to the 2014 Sochi Olympics logo, set against a wide shot of snowy mountains and a lake. Here, the video's style changes. Whereas the Beijing and PyeongChang Olympics had cartoon-y elements, the landscape for this featured Winter Olympics is in a photorealistic style. In fact, after we move on from this shot to the 2010 Vancouver Olympics, the style changes again. The background for the Vancouver Olympics is forested — perhaps to prompt the audience to recall Canada's vast national parks — and here it is presented in an infographic style. These two sequences (and the Beijing sequence) feature elements of each respective country's natural landscapes. What becomes confusing is the shift in style. From the animated style from before to the photorealistic mountains to the simplified forest, it's confusing why the video even changes style in the first place. Not only that, but why is the woman not in these scenes?

As we move onto the 2006 Torino Olympics, the woman appears again, snowboarding across the screen with the Olympic colors trailing behind her. Her hair is now multicolored instead of brown, and the Torino Olympics emblem includes the tagline "Passion Lives Here." This adds to the continual inconsistencies that we see throughout this video. Taking the woman's hair color, for instance, we can reason that this is an artistic liberty, but we still have questions: What is its purpose? Why did the people in charge of creating this video/the AI generator make her hair that way? And why does this Olympic logo get a tagline, but we didn't see that with the others? With this, we can see that this video seems to do only the bare minimum — show past Winter Olympic events and their emblems. There is not much consistency in style, theme, or plot, asides from the woman. But, even with that, her design seems to change.

We see a snowy mountain range for the 2002 Salt Lake City Olympics, then a bird flies around and perches on a pair of ski poles for the 1998 Nagano Olympics. Once again, these sequences are photorealistic. It seems this video aims to showcase iconic aspects of these locations, but it's inconsistent. It succeeds in this goal with the Salt Lake City Olympics by featuring the city's mountains, which it is known for, while it fails with the Nagano Olympics — we are not sure what significance the bird or mountains have in Japan. Additionally, the rings here with the Nagano Olympics logo violate Olympic ring rules (their colors cannot be altered). It potentially takes away from the International Olympic Committee's credability; how could they violate their own rules? This is a huge error that, again, would likely not have happened had there been more human involvement in this video's creation.

Now we have the 1976 Innsbruck Olympics, with the woman ski jumping off the logo. As she is midair, we zoom in on her eye. We move through her iris, transitioning into the 1972 Sapporo Olympics logo. We quickly move past this sequence to the next. With these two Olympic events, we see even more inconsistencies with what the video (either by oversight and/or AI-generated happenstance) decides to include. For example, the Innsbruck logo includes the dates of the Olympic events, while most of the other logos do not. The Sapporo Olympics doesn't even get its own special sequence — it's just the logo we get to see. Because of this, the message of how amazing past events were does not effectively come through here, and it doesn't allow the audience to feel moved in any way.

We get a rapid-fire sequence of morphing logos: the Sapporo Olympics quickly transforms into the 1968 Grenoble Olympic logo, which transforms into the 1964 Innsbruck Olympic logo, then to the 1960 Squaw Valley Olympics, and finally into the 1956 Cortina d'Ampezzo Olympics. Each of these shots lasts less than a second, making it difficult to understand which logo corresponds to each, especially for those unfamiliar with past Olympic logos, which is likely the majority of the audience. This sequence is jarring, since, before, we were able to sit with each past event a bit longer. All that these featured events have is a mere snippet. This makes the video even more perplexing, given that these events clearly do not receive equal time. The audience doesn’t get a chance to sit with each past game long enough to understand its significance in isolation or in relation to everything else.

We have the 1952 Oslo Olympics, represented by the Olympic and Norwegian flags propped up on ski poles. We can see some mechanical inaccuracies with how the Olympic flag moves. The Olympic rings on this flag seem distorted by some movements, and the black ring even turns blue. Two figures ski, and fireworks light up the night sky as the 1948 Moritz Olympics graphic appears. Again, this sequence is full of visual inaccuracies. At 00:00:49, specifically, white fragmented shapes appear to the left, and it's unclear as to what they are supposed to be. This is another reminder that the AI generator is unable to fully realize the visual elements of this narrative.

The main woman reappears, surrounded by posters featuring the 1936 Garmisch-Partenkirchen and 1932 Lake Placid Olympics. Note that the Garmisch-Partenkirchen poster used in this shot mimics the one produced by Ludwig Hohlwein, a member of the Nazi Party and a prominent propaganda artist at the time. While the poster does not itself contain any directly problematic content, it nonetheless carries weight given the artist, the stylization, and the historical context. It’s a dark reminder of the time period leading up to World War II. One should wonder why the IOC allowed this detail to be included. They themselves know about the historical background of each game, and it's strange that this sequence ignores the complex nature of the games at this time. For that matter, there is no incorporation of the history of the games in this ceremonial video. There is no real significance given to any of the events, and it's ironic that a video meant to "go back in time" does not give importance to actual Olympic history. The poster is yet another example of oversight over what the AI generator happened to produce. It reminds us that the generator is unaware of context beyond what it is prompted to do.

A poster-like graphic featuring the 1928 St. Moritz Olympics unfolds, and then quickly transitions to the woman playing hockey. There are several other hockey players whose faces have lost or distorted features. The woman shoots the hockey puck, leading to a surreal depiction of a phoenix with a 1924 Chamonix Olympics border. This is a recreation of the original Chamonix Olympics promotional poster, and what lies beyond the borders in this video is the generator's estimation. We can assume that the amorphous yellow cluster at the bottom right of the frame is supposed to be more bobsledders that the AI generator could not properly represent. We suddenly cut to the woman standing on the phoenix. She falls, lands in the snow, and we end here. The ending, like several other aspects of this video, is frankly bizarre. While not necessarily disturbing or obviously confusing, there's simply no clear reason given for why the video should end this way. The audience who first saw this at the opening ceremony was full of athletes, who should have been able to feel empowered by the history of the Olympics, which is full of struggles and triumphs. But, the video has no clear point of view. It fails to produce an effective narrative with a dynamic storyline. It accomplishes displaying various past Olympic posters or emblems, but it falls short in conveying how incredible it is that the Winter Olympics have been around, showcasing international athletic talent, for a century now.

The opening shot establishes family in car dissatisfied with the holiday season. They are singing this frustration as their presents attached to top of car are knocked off by bridge underpass. The song is a parody of "It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year," establishing familiarity with the viewer—though with a twist. It is a “terrible time of the year” for the family, as McDonalds Netherlands debuts a holiday ad that attempts to playfully jab at the festivities. They seek to connect with the consumer with what they believe to be a relatable dissatisfaction. It is very clear from the beginning that McDonald’s is trying something different, where along with an unexpected theme, generative AI is utilized.

Additional cast of upset people singing about how terrible the holidays are. A cyclist with a Christmas tree is seen falling backwards down a snowy uphill road, and caroling troupe are performing in the rain. The McDonalds’ logo is distinctly visible behind the carolers, as it contrasts the darker values of the scene. Here, McDonald’s is continuing to unite the dissatisfied people of this otherwise happy season, joking with the audience regarding several extreme examples. The funny situations attempt to draw appeal beyond relatedness, as they rely on humor to generate interest in these scenes. The sequence resembles the local weather where this ad would run, attempting to connect with this specific audience on a familiar and relatable topic.

Magical creatures join in on frustration and the song, as a stuffed bear is being fought over, and Santa gets stuck in traffic. The humor continues, as the beloved holiday magic is introduced and shares this familiar seasonal burden. The frantic and pitchy singing of the toy bear inside the store epitomizes this dependance on lighthearted jabs. Furthermore, there is a logic component for the audience that utilizes universal iconography—like Santa and a Christmas teddy bear gift—to express their point. It proposes, “If the Santa Claus is struggling this holiday, then maybe McDonald’s is right!” Yet, early on, without no definite tie-in or statement, it is easy for the message to feel as an unnecessary attack on the beloved character.

A man is sent through his window after a Christmas tree set-up error, where he breaks through the glass and lands on the snow. The physics of this launch have a tinge of inaccuracy that throw off the scene. Following his landing, the man joins in on the singing. Again, we feature a humorous situation that corresponds to the borderline slanderous attack that McDonald’s is advocating for. And, if it was not apparent before, the synthetic media attracts attention here for its imprecision—instilling a sour taste in the audience’s mouth that is embellished by the already contentious theme. Although, from McDonald’s optimistic point-of-view, there is a continuous playfulness that they hope is appealing to their audience.

The holiday cookies join in on the singing, with many burnt, showing that even this festive tradition--holiday baking—is often disorganized and upsetting. It further instills the correlation being made between the holidays and the "terrible" times that plague the season, according to McDonald’s. Again, McDonald’s continues their attempts at cracking jokes that fall short in face of a glaring omission in consumer desires. Not only is there a misunderstanding of the potent holiday spirit, that McDonald’s would later admit to in a later statement, but a general disinterest with synthetic media. The silliness of the cookies is apparent, and so are the intentions of the ad, but do not fall into place.

More montage of disaster ensues, as we see electrical problems, baking messes, and present delivery adversity. The chorus, "It's the most terrible time of the year" repeats as to highlight this point. It is a logos appeal that is once again continued in this video, as we see more instances of disaster being attributed to the holidays. A connection is intended to be made between the viewer and the communicator as not only are they intended to laugh but relate to the intensity of the season. The trope reaches its climax and finale here, as they showcase a chaotic cat, that appeals to a wide audience of animal lovers, along with several other quick scenes that continue a trend of comical issues.

The first smile is flashed on the screen, as the Christmas-tree-redecoration victim finds refuge in a McDonald’s. We finally see a payout for all the opinionated buildup, portraying McDonald’s as a happy place. There is a clear correlation between creating a pleasant holiday experience and attending the restaurant. In this scene McDonald’s involves their audience as stakeholders, stating that McDonald’s could be an escape from the often-disastrous season. The man in the scene is meant to embody that audience, being 20-something year old Dutch adults. His happiness is infectious, juxtaposing the ceaseless disorganization, and is designed to influence the viewer into the same emotion.

A younger couple--perhaps in their 20s--eating inside the McDonald’s, laughing as they enjoy their food and drink. We once again get an idea of the audience that McDonald’s is targeting in this ad, showing two adults sharing a meal—and a smile. It further reinstates that there is a designated audience that is local to the region—and is predominately white. We also get another look at the contribution that McDonald’s is making during the holidays. The tranquility and pleasure that is conveyed is achieved through the restaurant, as it is apparently unable to be found anywhere else. It is once again a logos appeal, as the couple’s happiness is derived from the McDonald’s.

The final shot displays the carolers, once again in front of the McDonalds, singing in pouring rain as we recognize a familiar bleak and dreary Dutch town whose only flashes of color and life are the lights of the McDonald's windows and--of course--its iconic golden arches. A Dutch phrase, translating to “December could use a little McDonald’s” flashes on the screen. This is the tie-in, as we converge all these preceding disasters into a simple tag line and visual that attempts to evoke familiarity. The message cannot be clearer, as we are sought to see McDonald’s as a sanctuary from chaos.

To close out the ad, the familiar McDonalds jingle plays, calling upon their iconic brand recognition. It is a global image that is extremely familiar across culture and continent and is perhaps their most powerful appeal. It produces an image synonymous with joy—in part due to their infamous Happy Meal branding. The end placement suggests that the last moment the viewer shares with the ad should be recognizing McDonald’s as the titan of a brand that it is. It forces the audience to recall who they are, and their image as a restaurant in pursuit of great memories, not just good food. Despite the chaos that ensued in the execution, McDonald’s can always fall back on the power of this iconic chime.

We see a close-up shot "Fembot," who opens a curtain and knocks on the screen to catch the viewers' attention. The close up shot of the fembot creates a sense of intimacy. The knocking of the screen breaks the fourth wall which helps engage the viewers and makes them feel as if they are in that room with them. This creates a playful gesture which helps spark curiosity and humor with the viewers and helps them experience the scene more vividly. This introduces the audience to a party atmosphere and livens up the mood as soon as the opening scene hits.

Video zooms out to a wideshot of Fembot and then shows the "Brobot" as their bodies eject a bottle of Svedka vodka and a cocktail shaker. This shows the obvious exaggerated robot movements and functions while making it somewhat humorous and surreal. The wideshot zoom of the robot and the switch in "gender" for the robots establishes a setting change and sets up for a scene where either robots can now help further introduce the product Svedka. This is shown as the bottle appears in a dramatic fashion that almost seems out of this world due to it being from the robots bodies.

The video then shows the male robot pouring the svedka bottle to the svedka container that the female robot is holding. This shows human like interactions as they prepare to do something with the drink which is later shown. This interaction shows how the product is supposed to be used and uses a logical step by step approach for a preparation of a drink that a bartender might do. This scene also introduces the idea subtly that even robots can party so if they can party, anyone can go out and party with their drinks in mind. Pour, Mix, Fun.

Associates Svedka with fun, as seen with the various clips of people, and robots, dancing with a bottle in hand. Music changes to something more upbeat, party vibes. The change in music stimulates excitement and thoroughly creates a party-like atmosphere. The dancing of the robots and the bottle of svedka creates a more emotional linkage with the audience as they create an atmosphere that is normal despite being robots. This makes the viewers associate svedka with something that is fun, energetic, and something social. This is a common advertising strategy where it entices the audience to buy something in order to feel a certain way.

Fembot dances with the shaker, depicted at the center of the dance floor; Svedka = center of attention. By having the bottle be placed in the center visually implies that it is important. In this case, since the svedka bottle is in the center, it shows that it is important and draws the audiences attention to the product. This reinforces the idea of how svedka is something that the audience should want as it shows desirability and the social status that could possibly come from the product as it would be successful in a party atmosphere, which is a place where social gatherings occur.

Fembot pours drink into Brobot's glass; Brobot drinks and it spills onto his wiring which could be some sort of irony. The way the brobot malfunctions due to the alcohol spilling onto his wires expresses humor as it lightens up the mood. This also can translate to what alcohol does to people, even though people become drink, they are able to express themselves in humorous ways which livens up the party atmosphere. This also helps increase memorability with the audience as it captures a funny image of the ad into their minds. This humorous atmosphere also prevents the ad from feeling too serious which helps keep the audience engaged.

Definitively declares Svedka is a liquor brand. They do this by explicitly stating that svedka is a liquor brand. By doing this, they build credibility as they are clearly stating what their product is in front of millions of people. This also shows and signals the product for legitimacy and reinforces the brand identity and confidence. This also prevents for any misconceptions about the product. By clearly stating that it is a alcoholic drink, it also informs people that it is for adult usage and that it is not a product for younger generations. This makes the audience understand the purpose of the drink how it is supposed to be distributed.