Why Make 1 Ad When You Can Make 50? Quality Meats Explains Its 'Dumb Idea'

Celebrating Mr. Submarine’s 50th birthday with local celebs, weird costumes, dodgy VFX and more

Running an advertising agency is a business. And it’s generally considered a smart idea to do work that financially makes sense. As opposed to doing work that doesn’t make financial sense, which is generally considered a dumb idea.

So when iconic Chicago sandwich chain Mr. Submarine came to us with a relatively low budget to make a commercial celebrating their 50th anniversary, it was a dumb idea that made zero financial sense.

Which means our idea to make that commercial plus 49 more was an extremely dumb idea. Possibly one of the dumbest ideas we’d ever had. Which meant we absolutely had to do it.

Play

We have a soft spot for Chicago and Chicago-y type things, especially when those things come in food form, and especially-especially when those foods are in sandwich form … and especially-especially-especially when it’s a Chicago institution renown for making commercials so bad they’re good (see Scottie Pippen from back in the day).

We’re also suckers for smaller, more local clients that know and embrace who they are—and who trust us.

So, when we asked for carte blanche, and they basically said, “Do whatever you want,” we simply had so say, “OK.”

Play

Once we landed on the whole horribly dumb 50 commercials idea, the insanity began. We opened the floor to everyone at the agency—our own little writer’s room—and the ideas started flowing: Chicago celebs (Ozzie Guillen, Richard Roeper, Attorney Howard Ankin, etc.), nostalgic parodies, weird local references and jingles, jingles, jingles.

We pulled from the things we loved about the old Mr. Submarine spots—the unintentional charm, the sticky songs, the so-bad-it’s-good sincerity—and tried to pay homage to all that. 50 times.

Play

Then we shot it all in two days at one Mr. Sub location. Two days. One store. Fifty spots. That’s not how sane people operate.

We used our newly formed and aptly named in-house production arm, Sandwiches, and a rotating cast of Chicago improv friends—plus one guy we cast from a vape shop across the street. We leaned into every limitation: lo-fi VFX, weird acting and AI that looked just janky enough to feel intentional.

It was chaos, but fun, organized chaos.

Play

In the end, it turned into this wild love letter to Chicago—equal parts nostalgia and stupidity—and true to Mr. Submarine. It’s full of familiar faces, bad wig, and one jingle you’ll never get out of your head.

Did it change the world? No. Did it make sense from a business standpoint? Also no. But it made us laugh, it made Mr. Submarine laugh and it made lots of Chicagoans laugh.

Play

And it made other Chicagoans write articles about it in Chicago newspapers and talk about it on Chicago news programs. And ultimately, it reminded us why we started doing this in the first place: to make weird, entertaining stuff for people who don’t take themselves too seriously.

Which means, at the end of the day, sometimes it can actually be kinda smart to be dumb. Even if it is most definitely, unquestionably dumb dumby dumb dumb dumb.

If you’re smart, you’ll check out all 50 spots HERE.