Director Joe Sedelmaier, a giant in the world of television commercials whose style was as identifiable as spotting a Wes Anderson film, died of natural causes at home in Lincoln Park Friday in his favorite chair. He was 92.
Mr. Sedelmaier often preferred casting regular people who naturally oozed character, like Clara Peller a manicurist and beautician from Hyde Park.
Mr. Sedelmaier placed her in a Wendy’s commercial in which she looked at a competitor’s skimpy burger and asked in a gravelly voice: “Where’s the beef?”
After the ad hit the airwaves in 1984 the phrase became part of the lexicon, uttered by anyone questioning the substance of something.
Shortly after the commercial aired, Democratic presidential candidate Walter Mondale told an opponent during a debate: “When I hear your new ideas, I’m reminded of that ad ‘Where’s the beef?'”
Mr. Sedelmaier discovered Peller years earlier on the set of a different commercial when, in need of a manicurist, a crew member ran across the street to a salon and came back with Peller in tow.
“First thing, she looks up at me and gives me this ‘How ya doing, honey?’ That big voice coming out of that little lady. What I can do with that!” Mr. Sedelmaier recalled in a documentary about his career that created by his longtime producer Marsie Wallach that’s available on YouTube.
Copywriter Cliff Freeman, who worked for the ad firm Dancer Fitzgerald Sample, developed the concept for the Wendy’s commercial.
Before taking on a job, Mr. Sedelmaier, who only did humorous commercials, insisted on total control over every aspect.
His signature style became recognizable in the ’70s and ’80s as he shot commercials for brands including Jartan Truck Rentals, Alaska Airlines, Southern Airlines, Mr. Coffee and Valvoline motor oil.
Mr. Sedelmaier’s ads showed scenes of common people dealing with problems while maintaining their dignity — glamorous and cool were not part of the equation.
The late Sun-Times critic Roger Ebert, in a ’60 Minutes’ interview, praised Mr. Sedelmaier for using regular-looking people in ads.
“I think that thanks to commercial filmmakers like Sedelmaier we now have movie actors who look like real people, including Gene Hackman and Dustin Hoffman. Movie stars that 20 years ago would have been playing characters are now playing the lead because it’s now permissible to look like somebody other than Robert Redford,” Ebert said.
Another commercial that cemented his place in advertising history was a 1981 Fed-Ex spot known as the “fast-talking man” ad.
It featured actor John Moschitta Jr., known as the world’s fastest talker, as a mile-a-minute business executive.
His commercials spawned imitators, and their own media attention. He was featured in the New York Times, Newsweek and made the cover of Esquire.
His production company, Sedelmaier Film Productions, was located at 610 N. Fairbanks Ct.
Mr. Sedelmaier often filmed at his own studio and other locations around Chicago. The business shuttered when Mr. Sedelmaier retired in the late ’90s, said his son Adam Sedelmaier, a manager with Lettuce Entertain You Restaurants.
Mr. Sedelmaier was inducted into the Art Directors Club Hall of Fame and the Advertising Hall of Fame and his work won numerous Clio Awards, known as the “Oscars” of advertising.
Mr. Sedelmaier was born May 31, 1933, in Orrville, Ohio, to Joe and Anne Sedelmaier.
He was an aspiring cartoonist when he came to Chicago in 1950 to attend the University of Chicago and study at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.
Mr. Sedelmaier worked at several ad agencies in Chicago, including Young & Rubicam and J. Walter Thompson, where he worked as an art director and producer, before starting his own business.
“He wore sneakers before everyone started wearing sneakers, along with jeans and a white button down shirt, and he walked very fast and kind of bounced when he walked. He was very spry,” said Wallach.
“He made me a Superman outfit when I was about eight,” said his son, J.J. Sedelmaier, who runs an animation studio in New York and loved reading his dad’s old comic books. “It was wonderful watching him mellow as he got older. His family was his whole life.”
Mr. Sedelmaier’s wife, Barbara Sedelmaier, died in 2012.
In addition to his sons, he is survived by his daughter, Rachel McElroy, six grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.