This year, Super Bowl viewers will be party to a not-so-rare treat: Arnold Schwarzenegger selling something. This time it’s Bud Light, but as a thorough trawling of the Internet’s archive proves, Schwarzenegger has been shilling since the 70s.
Long before he was the Governator, or Ahhhnold, or even the goofy-accented guy in those movies with Danny DeVito, Schwarzenegger had been honing his innate talent for the sales pitches for decades. Arnold’s Faust moment could be what is seen here in a short clip from the 1977 documentary Pumping Iron in which the budding bodybuilder sells Jim Beam for nothing more than a cameraman’s amusement. Bud Light may have only been a glint in Schwarzenegger’s agent’s eye at this point, but the Austrian’s pure glee for the craft of selling crap is palpable.
Long before Budweiser ever came calling, Canadian bodybuilder Joe Weider saw the power of the spokesperson in young Arnold. With copy that reads like the outtakes from the Anchorman 2 script and products whose efficacy could be deemed questionable at best (the Fitness Jogger appears to be a square mat that you’re expected to jog in place on), Schwarzenegger made it clear from the start: no matter what your product, he would sell it. By the way, for our more grammatically minded readers, no, “muscularize” is not a word, and neither is “powerize.” But it’s exactly that attitude that is keeping you from becoming the “powerful, muscular virile man” that you could be!
Thirteen years later, in 1988, Schwarzenegger appears to have shed the shackles of Joe Weider serfdom. No longer just the man known as Hercules, selling useless crap like the Pocket Jiffy Gym and the Panther Suit, instead, Schwarzenegger grabbed the advertising world by the short ones and put out his own line of Souvenirs from the Greatest. And by “greatest” Schwarzenegger means himself, of course. And by “souvenir” Schwarzenegger means a choice of new shirts—one with sleeves, one without—but who are we kidding, who the hell needs sleeves with arms like those?
It was only a matter of time before the big companies came knocking, and considering his history, I’m sure Schwarzenegger didn’t mind that it wasn’t Coke or Pepsi or Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi or even regular 7Up. Here, he smiles like he doesn’t even know what meaning it implies, stretching his lips as far as his mouth will allow, and along with his companion, sitcom star Loni Anderson, nearly convincing the viewer that something horrible is going on unseen behind the camera, but the photographer has a gun and he’s asked them to smile GODDAMNIT!
Little known to the public at large, Schwarzenegger and fellow action-movie star Jackie Chan were originally slated to co-star in*Rush Hour 4.** After Schwarzenegger’s continued ad-libbed insertion of his own political agendas during shooting led to a spat between the two stars, the film was put on hold. *[O.K., that’s not true, but we wish it were.]
When Japan called, Schwarzenegger answered, and, inevitably, possibly through a translator, answered yes. More than 30 times, in fact. Here, in a commercial for Nissin’s Cup of Noodles, Schwarzenegger channels his inner Martha Graham and imagines he’s a clock.
In this Japanese advertisement for DirecTV, Schwarzenegger plays a paranoid schizophrenic with multiple-personality disorder who has a nervous breakdown at an Asian airport. Or, at least I assume that’s the story. You be the judge.
In another addition to Schwarzenegger’s Japanese canon, a golden-hued Schwarzenegger downs can after can of West coffee. Go to the 16-second mark for everlasting proof that even movie stars have a hard time with the smooth sunglasses swipe.
The jewel in the crown of Schwarzenegger’s Japanese period may be his omnibus of advertisements for the energy drink Alinamin from Takeda Pharmaceutical Company. Starring a screeching Schwarzenegger in the duds of a pimp from a dystopian future, these 30-second capsules of pure televised delirium play like advertisements directed by Terry Gilliam on acid.
You get the idea.
If the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist, Schwarzenegger’s greatest trick ever sold was convincing California he could govern. Just watch as the billionaire, mansion-dwelling, movie star from AUSTRIAconvinces you, the poor Californian viewer whose home sits on a fault line, that the two of you are actually pretty much the same, and that what California is missing is a former-body builder turned action-star as its head of state.
Last September, Schwarzenegger fans the world over rejoiced as Ahhnold teamed up with the brilliant minds at MusclePharm to release the Arnold Schwarzenegger Series, the ultimate product in supplement training. The product guide for the (try not to yell with your inner voice while reading this) Iron Pack™: Ultimate Alpha Training Pack features a glowering young Schwarzenegger, a nutritional table of contents that makes your box of Cheerios look like a haiku, and a visual of the pills available that would put the team behind Soylent Green to shame.
Continuing his hot sales streak, in 2004 Governor Schwarzenegger rallied his legion of supporters against Proposition 66—a proposed amendment to weaken California's three-strikes law. Using scare tactics that would have made Lee Atwater proud—and perhaps entering the Guinness Book of World Records for shortest amount of airtime before uttering the term ‘child molester’—Schwarzenegger and his cohorts managed to turn the tide of public opinion against an amendment that had initially been very popular, defeating it with more than 50 percent of the vote.
All of this brings us to today's video, the apex in a career filled with commercial peaks and troughs. What does Arnold's ping-ponging Bjorn Borg imitation have to do with the tasteless swill that is Bud Light? Only time will tell, but if Arnold's past work is any indicator, it will be memorable, effective, and over-produced.
