For a decade, he told a generation to “stay thirsty, my friends.” And they listened.
Suntanned and distinguished, he was known as “the most interesting man in the world.” He was cultured: “When he visits museums, he’s allowed to touch the art.” He was confident: “His business card simply says, I’ll call you.” And he was tough: “When he went to Spain, he chased the bulls.”
Then he’d turn and explain, “I don’t always drink beer. But when I do, I prefer Dos Equis.” He was the iconic face of the brand.
Evidently buzzed on its success, Dos Equis’ parent company, Heineken USA, opted to contemporize the brand and find a more “millennial-friendly” spokesman. This is a mistake; without him, the brewery will lose stock. An era of sublime advertising will end. And the brand will go flat.
Why? Because marketing executives fundamentally misunderstand millennials. Generation Y wants a cold pint, not Generation X’s manufactured projections.
A marketing executive from Heineken, Andrew Katz, recently explained the (misguided) reasoning: “Our millennial drinker has changed quite dramatically,” he said, “the competition has only exploded with the advent of craft [beers]. We just want to make sure the . . . story evolves.”
But millennials aren’t sipping sophisticated craft brews. With rent due next week, we’re looking for something cheap. And honestly, Dos Equis and domestics aren’t that different in taste. It’s just that the Mexican lager offered something more: sophistication from a mediocre beer.
Millennials picked up a six-pack of Dos Equis because the advertising made the sale. Everyone wanted to be in on the joke. That’s why it worked. Who doesn’t want to slam a revolving door, parallel park a train or bowl overhand?
Ultimately the jokes were funny because the man behind the advertising had authenticity on tap.
The actor who played the Dos Equis man, Jonathan Goldsmith, was just a dude with whom you instinctively wanted to grab a beer in real life.
He wasn’t a Spanish billionaire. No, he couldn’t “speak French . . . in Russian.” He was just another Jewish kid from Brooklyn. Back in the late 1970s and early ’80s, in between shifts as a garbage man, he was a B-list actor on “Gunsmoke,” “Magnum, P.I.” and “The A-Team.”
Introduced in 2006, the most interesting man in the world quickly became popular and nearly dethroned the king in the can (Budweiser). In a market dominated by domestics, the imported lager posted solid sales numbers for more than a decade.
And while other foreign imports struggled, Dos Equis’ profits increased by 34.8 percent from 2007 to 2015, according to USA Today.
It was the pitchman’s personality that “won the lifetime achievement award . . . twice.” A Steve McQueen-type rolled into a modern Simon Bolivar caricature, his Spanish accent was exaggerated, but his attitude was genuine.
The most interesting man in the world has even earned the most coveted millennial stamp of approval — he’s become an Internet meme. Ready-made for customization, his catchphrase caught fire on the Web. Scroll through Facebook or Twitter and it won’t be long before you discover someone writing some variation of “I don’t always [X,] but when I do, I [Y].”
His ubiquitous Web presence brought the company millions in earned media; compare that with the advertising swill peddled by others like Budweiser. Bud Light’s last ad campaign encourages boozy frat boys to get loaded and be “up for whatever.” It’s a sales pitch to ongoing adolescence. And sure, that’s cool for a while.
When we were all college kids, we did keg stands and drank as college kids. But then after that, we grew up. When they stopped checking our IDs, some of us started looking for a cheep beer with champagne sensibilities. Many arrived at Dos Equis: clever in advertising, unpretentious in taste and acceptable in cost.
One can’t help but wonder if perhaps the most interesting man in the world was escaping a corporation too foolish to understand his value when he exited the atmosphere in his final commercial with “a one-way ticket to Mars.”
Maybe it’s a silly thing to mourn the loss of a celebrity personality. But it’s not often that an advertising pitchman makes such a pleasant impact on a generation.
The lesson for marketers who want to reach millennials: You can’t fake authenticity, and irony is no replacement for making a genuine connection with your audience. And connection is precisely what “the most interesting man in the world” did best.