Trevor Robinson, art director
My creative partner Al Young and I had been on the dole for 18 months when we landed our dream jobs at Howell Henry ad agency. We had to prove ourselves fast. Tango’s brief was basically to get talked about. They told us: “We want Coca-Cola to be afraid of this little British brand.” The campaign was based around the hit of real fruit. We decided to escalate that concept, making the hit a physical thing.
Most ads were cause and effect – consume the product and something pleasant happens. We flipped that, so something unpleasant happens in a farcical way. It was almost anti-advertising. I loved Charlie Chaplin kicking people up the bum, then running off. A boot up the backside was deemed too aggressive but we figured we’d get away with a Morecambe and Wise-style slap. We shot tests with a camcorder but the slap didn’t look big enough. We ended up putting our arms straight out to the sides, pause, then “whack!”.
At first, it was just a fat guy. Al said: “Let’s make him orange, so he’s more a manifestation of the drink.” He became this shirtless orange genie. We auditioned loads of actors. Peter Geeves, who got the job, was a proper thespian. He had this funny way of running with his tummy thrust forward and head back, which clinched it. When the ad got pulled by the agency, we got him to redo it with a kiss instead of a slap and Peter told us: “I can’t get parts any more. Everybody just sees me as this fat orange bloke.” Gil Scott-Heron did the closing voiceover. I was terrified – asking one of my heroes to say, “You know when you’ve been Tango’d” at the end of our silly ad. But Gil was giggling away, saying, “You English guys are crazy!”
After filming, we were bouncing around like excited toddlers. Whenever we showed the ad to people, it got a reaction of: “What the hell was that?” We knew it was going to be either loved or hated and, if the latter, we’d probably be back on the dole. An industry figure called it “oik advertising”. We were working-class kids trying to make a noise.
I knew it was a winner when I fell asleep on the tube one night and woke up to hear these guys mimicking the ad. I wanted to shout: “I did that!” I was in a cinema when it came on and the whole audience roared with laughter. It was the best feeling. Then we started hearing about copycat slappings, which we hadn’t seen coming, and doctors complained about patients having perforated eardrums from being Tango’d. We were gutted but our bosses were cool. They said: “It’s out there now. Everybody’s talking about it.” To an extent, our job was done, which enabled us to do all the sequels.
It boosted Tango sales by 35%. They changed the branding to a black can off the back of the commercials. It’s amazing how far it spread, taking on a life of its own. You’d see fans dressed as the Tango man at football matches, painted orange with their tops off, which was quite disturbing. People still come up and tell me they got a perforated eardrum because of me. The slogan resonates to this day. I’ve seen headlines about Donald Trump’s tan, saying: “He’s been Tango’d.”
Hugh Dennis, voice actor
I was doing voices for Spitting Image when my agent called about a new Tango ad. They needed two sports-style pundits to describe this blink-and-you’ll-miss-it surreal moment. Ex-footballer Ray Wilkins – a lovely bloke, sadly no longer with us – was laid-back and laconic, so they wanted someone excitable as contrast. I came up with this extreme geordie commentator. A cross between Sid Waddell off the darts and Eddie Waring from rugby league. I think they had actually tried Sid Waddell himself but he wasn’t Sid Waddell-ish enough.
I absolutely loved doing it – they were groundbreaking ads. The slap caused problems in school playgrounds. I thought: “Oh my god, I’m partly responsible for all these ear injuries.” But there’s always a dangerous playground craze. It was clackers in my day.
The campaign ran for four years in the 90s, then was brought back in the 00s. Every six months, I’d go to a studio, chat about football with Ray, then launch into this ludicrous voice: “Wey-aye, Tony, I think we’ve got another one here!” It was huge fun but kind of exhausting. There were a limited number of takes I could do because it stretched my voice. I couldn’t do anything else for two hours afterwards because I’d screamed myself hoarse.
Knowing the adverts were popular made it all the more enjoyable. People were waiting for the next one, which rarely happens. Oddly enough, I had also seen this from the other side. After university, I worked for Unilever and became brand manager of Lynx deodorant. So I could view it from a marketing perspective, going: “I wish I’d thought of this.”
Because the campaign ran for ages, it brought in regular money. I didn’t buy a private island but I did OK. It was very much of its time. An orange fella in a giant nappy going up to someone in the street and slapping them around the face? You wouldn’t get away with it now – but it’s lovely to be part of such a cult classic. Most people don’t realise it was me. I’m currently in The Importance of Being Earnest in the West End with quite a young cast. When I mentioned doing the Tango voiceover, they went: “Wait, what? That was you? A middle-aged man who’s playing a vicar in Earnest?” But they absolutely all remember it.
