We here in the editorial offices of Jose el Retardo have a new favorite commercial, and for this we need to thank the good people over at Barilla Pasta.

Art lives where you find it, and it is the fool who will discard the television commercial without first mining it for all it is worth. Granted, most times we can immediately dismiss a TV commercial after a single viewing having found absolutely no redeeming qualities; but if we are persistent, if we remain vigilant, a gem is revealed—something complex, something open-ended and alluring, something mystifying to its audience while at the same time illuminating aspects of the human condition. With their advertisement “Sisters” for Barilla Plus, the pasta with a heart, Barilla Food Service takes its audience to this enigmatic place: where commerce meets culture.

The storyline, a sweeping and perplexing romance scored with the haunting and majestic tenor vocals of Andrea Bocelli, is anything but simple. I have viewed this commercial countless times, and I am left with the impression that the art director in charge wanted to leave the ad as open-ended as possible. Who is the handsome neighbor? Why is this young bachelor playing that weird, Italian blindfold game with the blonde woman’s children? The ad opens with a wide establishing shot of a cozy Italian bungalow in the middle of absolutely nowhere, yet the mother character calls this man a neighbor. Where does this man live? Is he the Author Fonzerelli type, living above the garage? Or does he typically drive miles out of his way to play with other people’s kids? Could it be that he has been brought there solely for the introduction to the mother’s sister, who we see driving up to the house in the opening shot? But that couldn’t be the case, because the mother clearly states early in the commercial that “the children ADORE him.” He’s been there before. So, possibly the hunky bachelor has his sights on the mother—that would explain why he would play games with her children. But we also see, VERY briefly, the husband (I think the producers have made a smart move here; an introduction of a husband could only smash the fantasy for women waiting anxiously over their morning coffee for a morning romance fix; it’s a sad reality), so is this handsome stranger languishing in sorrow for the woman he loves? Not likely. The bumbling husband wouldn’t have much of a chance against this his formidable neighbor…not the way mommy swoons when Mr. Dashing takes his blindfold off. And so, right off the bat, mystery.

From there we move into the kitchen, with the sisters working diligently over the meal to be later enjoyed by all in the airy and rustic dining room. The sister says, “Barilla Plus…you’re such a good mom.” The mother blushes and turns her head. Does she never get a compliment out of that tubby husband of hers? No wonder she’s spending all of her afternoons watching the bachelor play with her children! And the sister is shameless. Please. It’s only pasta. It couldn’t possibly counter all the crappy stuff the mother does, like yelling at the kids while she gets drunk off of Italian wine, crying over her dead-end marriage, pining for the handsome stranger while he blatantly plays slap and tickle in the back yard.

And then the dining room. Again, we barely see the husband, but rather focus immediately on the two sisters ovulating over tall, dark, and handsome while the music swells.

The mother is setting her sister up with this man. But why? To put an end, once and for all, to the painful love she holds in her desperate heart? Did she bring up the idea of a threesome to the sister and the dashing man, and find that they were both INTO IT?

My god. I have barely touched on all of my questions.