So why is it, exactly, that so many drug ads look alike? Surely there must be some talent out there, some creative team that can rise above and deliver something truly memorable, something truly different. Well, yes, there are a few.

But for the most part, the rest are all down here in hell. And hell is closely, fiercely, ruthlessly guarded by the 3-headed beast known as Legal/Regulatory/DDMAC. And a fouler-smelling monstrosity has yet to be found in all of Satan’s dominions.

Head-the-first: Legal
Not your basic advertising lawyer, who okays a commercial which implies a truck can survive a nuclear blast, or a sports car can climb a tree, or a product of any kind can make you sexy, as long as there’s a tiny disclaimer buried below the safety at the bottom of the screen. No, the legal head of our beloved mongrelbeastie is employed for the sole purpose of preventing some quarter-brained Alabama fucktard from suing any pharmaceutical company for any reason whatsoever based on something he or she saw or heard in a drug ad. That’s why nobody ever runs (can’t promise the ability to run) or shows any kind of tangible improvement other than the ability to exit their fabulous apartment, walk down a few stairs, and head to the park or beach for a little tai chi. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the lawyers shoot down anything that approaches aggressive copy, intelligent art design, or good advertising. So you get pablum. And nobody ever sues pablum. Yet. There’s still time, Alabama.

Head-the-second: Regulatory
Your all-purpose, basic, regulatory quote: “All I’m saying is, I need some kind of back-up for when the FDA questions this claim.”
That’s it. That’s regulatory. The FDA’s little bitch. Just you try to word a claim in a new way. Even though you’ve got the data to back it up, some regudrone will red stamp it because it’s their fucking nature to do so, not because they take the time to read, learn, absorb, calculate…

Head-the-third: DDMAC
There’s not enough time, nor space, nor…anything…to allow the collective hatred of the pharma advertising creatives to froth out regarding the Division of Drug Marketing, Advertising, and Communications. This is the giant, morbidly obese tyrant who reclines on his cushions, day after day, gorging himself on fruits and sweets, ravaging the minions who come to petition him, and reveling in his ability to say “no.” No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no like some petulant punk puissant piqued at his prurient pustulence.

And there’s no appeals process. If DDMAC don’t like your ad, they tell you a: change it before you run it, or b: pull it. And that’s that. Defy them at your own risk. “Oh, you say you’d like a new drug approved? Oh, but you were naughty when promoting your last drug, so…no. Wait awhile, and maybe I’ll change my mind.”

Bitches.

And that’s why we see so many “active” older people doing tai chi on the fucking beach.