THINK INSIDE THE BOX

“But it’s not really a very good trick.”

SO SAID MY FRIEND JOSHUA JAY a couple of weeks ago over dinner as we caught up on his world travels, my job, and our mutual interest in magic. Josh is an accomplished and thoughtful master of sleight of hand. I respect his judgment immensley, so I had to reconsider the comment I had made moments before about a particular piece of coin magic known as “Copper, Silver, Brass.” The trick creates an effective illusion of a copper coin and a brass coin invisibly — and repeatedly — changing places with a silver coin in the hands of the magician. I had commented that I liked the effect and intended to develop a routine around it for my own very ocassional impromptu performances. I knew our opinions differed when Josh’s only reply was “Really?”

I prodded and he explained the weaknesses he saw in the basic premise of the trick. His arguments mounted quickly and within a few mouthfuls of pizza I found myself reluctantly agreeing with him. 

“I guess I just really like the gaff,” I said sheepishly, referring to the secret “thing” that, in conjunction with a little sleight of hand, makes the trick work. “It’s such a cool concept and so well made. I just like to watch it work.”

Amateur magicians are like birds drawn to the shiny objects of magic’s gadgetry and pageantry of props. What should be a tool to create real mystery and entertainment is more often treated like a toy we play with for our own amusement.

It turns out the marketing world sometimes confuses tools and toys as well.

I was on a conference call with a prospective client today and our discussion turned momentarily to the new Orville Redenbacher commercial (really, click on it; you’ve got to see what I’m talking about). It debuted a couple of weeks ago during the Golden Globe Awards featuring Orville himself, even though he died in 1995.

Advertising hot shop Crispin, Porter & Bogusky, working with the same Hollywood special effects experts that worked on Titanic and Apollo 13, used three actors (one each for the voice, body and face of the deceased Mr. Redenbacher) and digital legerdemain to reanimate the popcorn pitchman formerly known as “alive.”

All of us on the call had seen it or read about it online. We agreed — as did the vast majority of those who posted opinions to the Web — that the spot was just plain creepy. Advertising and marketing columnists, such as Bob Garfield and David Kiley, seem to be with viewers on this one. My favorite search-result headline: “Deadenbacher Creeps Consumers but Drives Massive Trafic.”

(As a PR professional I found the mention of driving massive traffic particularly interesting. In an AdAge.com article [requires registration and subscription] Crispin, Porter & Bogusky tout the success of the spot by citing the 35 million “PR impressions” its debut generated in broadcast and print media in the first 72 hours. When did ad agencies start using PR metrics?)

Redenbacher’s grandson, Gary, says he thinks his grandpa, who he called a “cutting edge guy,” would like the spot.

Who knows. Maybe he would. But that’s not really the point. The point is, in my opinion, what should have been a tool turned into a toy.

Watching the spot, I can imagine — even appreciate — the glee with which the computer-generated imagery (CGI) experts brought this Frankenad to life in fits of narcissistic creativity; I love playing with technology too. But there are only two reasons for any piece of marketing communications to exist: To increase people’s postive feelings toward a brand over the long term, or to sell products in the short term. I could be wrong, but I can’t imagine the undead Orville will do either.

As a branding mechanism, it embodies (it’s tempting to say “disembodies”) the exact opposite of what built the brand in the first place: Authenticity. Orville Redenbacher, as professorially nerdy as he may have been, was the real deal, an agronomist with a passion for popcorn that started when he was a kid in Indiana.

As a sales motivator, well, as one blog put it: “Redenbacher makes us think about death every time we eat popcorn. Thanks, ConAgra.”

There’s little doubt that posthumously turning a successful businessman and brand icon into a sort of digital ventriloquist’s dummy has created a lot of awareness, but that’s generally not enough to judge a marketing campaign’s success on, and that awareness is coming about for all the wrong reasons. It’s all technique and no substance. What should have been a strong marketing tool ended up an odd and slightly disturbing toy.

Ultimately, bringing Orville Redenbacher back from the dead isn’t really a very good trick.

© 2007 John Armato
Disclaimers and Disclosures

RETURN TO HOME PAGE

This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 31st, 2007 at 1:41 am and is filed under PR & Marketing, Creativity, Brands & Products, Magic. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.