There was a time when car ads would make you feel something. The thrill of the open road, the pride of a new purchase and the stories that stayed with you. In Pakistan, unfortunately, car advertising has devolved into a predictable, glossy mishmash of drone shots, orchestral music, and interchangeable VO artists telling us… nothing new.

Today’s automotive ad scene in Pakistan can be summarised in one sentence: Mountains. Drone shots. Dark grade. English voiceover about ‘power and elegance.’ Cut. Paste. Repeat.

You could shuffle logos between most Pakistani car ads, and no one would notice. Turn to an average consumer and they will vaguely remember ‘a car going up a mountain,’ ‘a horse running alongside,’ or ‘an SUV overtaking a bus.’ Which brand? Silence. Eighty percent of these ads are directed by the same handful of directors, relying on the same grammar. Sweeping drone shots, muted grey-green colour palettes, classic heavy scores, English VOs about ‘power’ – with zero storytelling and even less heart. A case of the same song, different singer.

Here’s a quick playlist of Pakistani automotive advertising, if you are brave enough to spot the difference:

Haval Pakistan: A lone SUV slicing through desolate mountains. VO: Deep, baritone English, heavily processed. Mood: ‘Batman, but with a crossover.’ High gloss, low recall.

Peugeot Pakistan: A lone SUV slicing through European-looking streets. VO: Deep, baritone English for extra drama. Mood: French chic lost somewhere between the Margalla Hills and Paris. Slick visuals, zero localisation.

Tucson Pakistan: A lone SUV slicing through… you guessed it… desolate mountains. VO: Check. Music: Check. Mood: Fast and Furious meets Lonely Planet. Beautiful, generic, forgettable. The car looks great. I own one too.

Honda Civic Pakistan: A car slicing through an empty, dramatically lit bridge. VO: Deep English. Aspirational clichés about ‘pushing boundaries.’ Mood: Inspirational corporate TED Talk, but on four wheels. Legendary Civic deserved better than to blend into a sea of cinematic montages.

Corolla Altis Pakistan: Neon lights and city streets at night. Lens flares. Low angles. VO: You already know. Mood: CEO meets weekend hiker. Safe, reliable, but emotionally empty. No emotional lift, no visceral engagement.

MG Pakistan: Moody overcast skies, moody SUV, moody everything. VO: Moody baritone (what else?). Mood: Luxury catalogue meets Instagram reels. All the expensive polish money can buy.

Suzuki Swift: Colourful modern studio shots with Hania Aamir and a two-tone roof, this time on a remixed song, not on VO. Mood: Look at Hania and don’t worry, the car has a two-tone roof, but no one would remember that. Credit where it’s due… marginally less broody than the others.

In almost every case, the formula reads like a production brief gone lazy: shoot in mountains or on lonely bridges, and if you don’t have travel budgets, shoot in a studio black box. Grade it dark and broody. Hire a VO artist who sounds like he narrates wildlife documentaries. License one grand orchestral music track to make it feel ‘important’. Drone shots galore. Swap logos at the end, and even the director’s own family might not tell the difference.

Cars are not commodities. They are aspirations. Identity. Freedom. Pakistani automotive advertising reduces them to just another glossy object on wheels. In a world where storytelling wins hearts, we are mistaking cinematic drone shots for actual brand building. While Pakistan’s automotive advertising revs its engine in neutral, internationally, storytelling drives the wheels, and brands are weaving emotions into steel frames with imagination and humanity.

Hyundai India – ‘Atut Rishta’
The Plot: A simple, grounded story of a father and his sons. From teaching them to drive nervously to finally trusting them with the family car, and the emotional connection of not wanting to sell the car… No flashy mountains, no orchestral boom, just pure, honest moments.
Why It Works: The Hyundai here is not a mechanical marvel flaunting torque and suspension. It’s a symbol of trust and bonding. It grows old with the family. It witnesses memories. The car becomes an heirloom of love, not just a machine. Hyundai didn’t sell metal; they sold memories.

Volkswagen – Humour and Humanity
The Plot: Volkswagen ads often centre on real, relatable human quirks. Whether it is the nervous dad trying to reverse-park or the little kid pretending to use the force in the Passat Darth Vader ad.
Why It Works: They take everyday slices of life and place the car inside them, never louder than life, always a part of life. This TVC (it barely mentioned specs) became the most shared VW ad in their history and helped boost Passat sales by 26% that year. It was also the most viewed Super Bowl ad at that point.

BMW M5 – Cinematic Adrenaline
The Plot: A thrilling high-speed chase styled like a blockbuster movie, but centred on the car’s performance.
Why It Works: BMW does not pretend the car is your cosy family heirloom. It embraces what customers want to feel: adrenaline, speed and sophistication. It sells a lifestyle fantasy, but grounds it with cinematic storytelling craft. Pride. Power. A visceral rush.

The common thread here is emotion before engineering, humanity before horsepower. These ads don’t just sell torque and horsepower. They sell dreams, safety, pride, freedom and human emotions, not metal parts. Pakistani automotive advertising is mostly selling drone shots of mountains and English accents to a population that dreams in Urdu.

But Sales Are Coming? Sure, Pakistani brands might argue: “Say whatever you want… we’re selling cars.” True. But maybe… just maybe… sales would happen even without these cookie-cutter ads. After all, purchasing decisions often hinge on product, price and availability, not necessarily brand love.

Spoiler alert: Great advertising doesn’t just chase the inevitable. It builds brands for decades. And yes, eventually justifies its premium pricing too.

Rare Bright Spots: To be fair, a few brands have attempted to break the mould. And they are worth applauding, even if they did not fully escape the gravitational pull of ‘dark grade + orchestral music’ aesthetics.

Suzuki Alto (2019): Smart insight. It became the first car for young earners graduating from bikes. (Finally, a relatable human story!)

Suzuki Every (2024): Positioned as an affordable, functional, community-serving upgrade over the Bolan.

Kia Sportage: Recently experimented with quirky humour, Tide Brad Pitt style, inserting a car ad inside a car ad. (Sadly, the rest of the AV grammar still played it safe.)

The Road Less Taken: While Pakistani brands are stuck showcasing drone shots, Maruti Suzuki India produced an entire feature film: Mere Dad Ki Maruti (MDKM). You may have also seen Tom Hardy’s Locke, a film so beautifully branded by BMW.

Learning from MDKM: It is a full-blown Bollywood entertainer where the car was not just product placement. It was the heart of the story. It centred on a boy who ‘borrows’ (and loses) his father’s new Maruti Ertiga. From plot to product, the film revolves around the car. The car is not an accessory; it is the main character. Targeting young people by making them emotionally connect to a car was the strategic intent. Suzuki positioned Maruti Suzuki as a brand woven into life’s key milestones (first car, family pride, marriage, growing up, social status). In short, humanise the car; make it part of life’s everyday chaos and aspirations. In reported results, Maruti saw a surge in Ertiga’s brand recall post-release. There was a positive sentiment shift toward the Ertiga among first-time buyers and middle-class families. It also resulted in the expansion of the Ertiga’s image beyond a ‘utility van’ to a youthful family car.

The bottom line is entertain, don’t sell. People don’t want to be sold to. They want to be engaged. Imagine producing a Pakistani movie called Mere Abu Ki Corolla. It would probably connect better than a thousand slow-motion forest chase shots.

Pakistani automotive brands need to remember – insight first, drone shot later. Emotion over exposition. Relatability over grandeur. Entertainment over ego. In the end, people don’t buy a spec sheet. They buy how a car makes them feel. Until then, Pakistani automotive ads will continue to deliver horsepower… without heart.

Sami Qahar is CEO, Stimulus Productions. sami.qahar@gmail.com