5.9.01
Snap! Crackle! Flop!
-- OR --
Sycophantic Cinema
Did you ever see the one when Betty Boop hits the casting couch? Or how about the one when Flash Gordon invades Queen Undina with "the most powerful explosive in the universe?" Well, you must have read the one where Popeye gives new meaning to the phrase, "Blow me down." Then again, if you weren't a pervert with a sense of humor during the 1930s and 40s, you probably missed 'em all. Known as Tijuana Bibles, these underground erotic comics shed light on the seedy side of life for licensed comic strip characters and Hollywood film stars.

Nowadays, it's easy to worry that the art of irreverent spoofing is nearly lost on this generation. If the upcoming computer-animated flick, Foodfight actually makes money at the box office next year, those concerns could be justified. No, this ain't no John Belushi reanimation, it's Threshold Entertainment's blatant attempt to smooch a little brand manager butt. According to the 4/30 Wall Street Journal feature, Foodfight stars a slew of licensed product spokes-characters, from Uncle Ben and Chester Cheetah to Count Chocula and Twinkie the Kid, who come to life after the supermarket closes.

If Foodfight doesn't seem enough like Toy Story minus the imagination, potential scenes featuring "an M&M candy confessing to 'peanut envy' and a "Dolly Madison character…brushing off a pick-up artist with a sassy 'Get a shelf life,' " will make it all the more apparent. Oh, and don't forget the villain. Although the Slim Jim dude or a rabid Trix Rabbit would have been ideal, the folks at Threshold opted to brown their noses completely by writing every brand manager's arch nemesis into the script: an "evil force known as Brand X." One wonders whether an evil force known as "reality" would have been more appropriate.

Threshold, "an intellectual-property-management firm" and maker of TV shows, movies and websites, "has spent about two years cajoling companies to let them use their characters" in the $50 million promo pic. Even after all that "cajoling," the company claims to "retain full creative control," as noted in the Journal piece. In fact, Threshold actually is categorizing Foodfight as product placement-free, since companies will pay nothing for the brand exposure.

Isn't it ironic that firms with food and beverage brands have spent wads of dough developing brand experiences, from flash animated Web games to road-roaming wiener mobiles, yet none of the companies involved with the film paid to have their beloved characters star in this big-screen brand immersion?

And don't let that creative control wrap fool ya, either. In just one example of undoubtedly many more, the story notes that assistant brand manager for Procter & Gamble Co.'s Mr. Clean was "concerned that an early version of the script was not portraying Mr. Clean as a 'strong leader.' " So, he suggested some alternatives to having Mr. Clean creamed by "by a wimpy person" and the scene sanitization commenced. If this manager's so concerned with maintaining Mr. Clean's tough guy image, maybe he ought to get him booked on the next Survivor series.

Overall, this Foodfight flick strikes me as more like an ad agency pitch than a source of entertainment. Maybe that's because it pretty much is. You see, the film company "hopes to persuade companies to launch products based on characters Threshold itself created for the movie, Dex Detective and Daredevil Dan, according to the article. Yep, "Mr. Kasanoff sees potential riches in a long-term licensing deal with, say, General Mills." Hmmm…maybe Dex Detective could help General Mills find the nutritional value in a bowl of Cocoa Puffs. Or better yet, maybe he could uncover a reason to pay to see Foodfight.

Armpit Aroma Attack Ad
-- OR --
Mennen To Jersey: Puck Off!
Just because Canada's got an inferiority complex doesn't mean its gotta take its frustrations out on li'l ol' New Jersey. Here's how it all went down: last Thursday, an ad for Colgate-Palmolive's Mennen Speed Stick ran in both The Toronto Sun and The Toronto Star. Intended to fuel the rivalry between then-tied National Hockey League playoff opponents, The Toronto Maple Leafs and the New Jersey Devils, the ad displayed the deodorant and a map of New Jersey. As featured in a 5/5 New York Times story, it read, "Unfortunately, there are some smells even we can't do anything about. Go Leafs Go."

Well, one whiff of that potent provocation awoke the temper of Jersey's acting Governor, Donald DiFrancesco. In cheesy political consultant speak, DiFrancesco retorted, "What stinks is a company trying to further their economic interests at the expense of New Jersey's reputation. I can understand trying to score with Maple Leafs fans who must be sweating right now, but this slap shot at the Garden State has put Colgate in the penalty box with me." I wonder if Don donned a phony set of busted teeth when he spewed that metaphorical mess.

Let's just say that a defensive attitude is nothing new for DiFrancesco. He also ducked out of this year's Jersey gubernatorial race at the first sniff of scandal. DiFrancesco did have a right to raise his fists, though, at least in defense of the "nearly 2,000 people in New Jersey" employed by the firm. In the end, Colgate-Palmolive's CEO Reuben Mark, stressed that Colgate apologized "for the disrespectful and disparaging advertisement."

In fairness, you'd think Colgate would have created a component anti-Leafs ad aimed at Jersey consumers. In fact, the company can still make amends. In response to the brutal elbow blow that the Leafs' Tie Domi laid on the Devils' Scott Niedermayer's head during Game 4 of the playoffs, Colgate could run an ad featuring images of Tie Domi and the deodorant. How's this for a caption? "Mennen Speed Stick may get rid of bad smells, but we never said it would get rid of a bad attitude. Go Devils Go."

Harper Valley Validation
-- OR --
Pride Gets Country Fried
Some of us grew up geeky. I know I did. At this point, I've more than come to terms with the fact that I love Stephen Stills solo, I have inexplicable fascinations with anything submarine related, I live in Jersey, and Pauly Shore still cracks me up. In fact, one of my ultimate loser moments took place as I was immortalized on film, wearing a dashiki and grinning moronically beside a very stoned Pauly.

And then there are those of us who like country music. I'm not talkin' the hip stuff like Bob Wills, Patsy Cline or Roy Acuff. I'm talkin' Top 40 country - you know -- the "Don't mess with God's America," "Trailer Park of Tears" kinda stuff. Well, y'all who have yet to do-si-do outta the country closet will be pleased to know that, according to a 5/2 Yahoo! News report, "The country music industry is planning an advertising campaign to encourage fans to be proud of their taste in music." The slogan: "Country. Admit it. You love it.'' The reason for the campaign: country is lame. At least, that's what Austin advertising firm G-S-D-and-M discovered when it conducted focus groups in Chicago, Los Angeles, Atlanta, Dallas and Nashville. "The research shows that many country music fans are shy about it," and the numbers showing declining sales over the years back up this sentiment.

The Country Music Association's Ed Benson adds that "one young woman in Dallas told of listening to country music in her car, but changing the station if she stops at an intersection next to 'someone cool.' " He's hoping that with the help of TV and print ads launching this fall, country shall overcome.

Ya know, I'm surprised that the country music industry finds it necessary to advertise in Dallas and Nashville, of all places. Is it that city dwellers are just too sophisticated to listen to the readily digested, twang-tinged fluff that floods today's country charts? Or, is it that the over-generalized stereotyping of the broad country music genre has actually reduced the size of its core listening audience? If that's the case, and I'd bet it is, it just plain sucks. I hate to think that anyone would be afraid to embrace something she enjoys (especially music) simply because some dolt in the next car over who's blaring diluted dribble under a different name might think she's uncool.

Although I haven't seen the ads themselves, the "Country. Admit it. You love it'' tagline hits the spot quicker than grandpappy's moonshine. It's simple, to the point, and perhaps most important, because of its self-effacement, it's empowering. This tail-between-its-legs quality is key here; remove the "Admit it," and the slogan becomes more of a directive than a supportive approval. Now if the WB could only come up with an ad campaign aimed at shameful Dawson's Creek lovers, I could stand tall.

Mighty Casey Strikes a Deal
-- OR --
Root, Root, Root for the Home Brand
In the early 1900s, Milton Hershey put an end to print and billboard advertising entirely. Why bother when he had an entire Hershey town, complete with a Hershey park, a Hershey Sports Arena and Museum, a Hershey Hotel and even a Chocolate Avenue, dedicated to America's favorite candy treat?

Well, it looks as though San Diego, California could become a chocolate chip off the ol' Hershey Bar block itself soon. As featured in a 5/1 San Diego Union-Tribune story, the city's Councilman Brian Maienschein would like to see the 26-block East Village district surrounding the future Padres ballpark renamed after whoever can plunk down the most dineros. The new stadium, construction of which is apparently enjoying an extended seventh-inning stretch according to the Padres website, will cost the city $225 million. It's already been decided that the stadium will be have its very own huckster handle.

Maienschein appears to have the taxpayer's pocketbooks at heart in his proposal to sell the East Village name. "If we can generate a significant amount of money," he explains, "it is going to be in San Diego's best interest because we are going to save a ton of money for the taxpayers."

So, as you may imagine, there's a heated debate revolving around the possible town title transition. Understandably, some folks would rather not live in Viagraville or ExLaxland. They worry of the slippery slope leading downward towards corporate commandeering of other residential areas or public spaces, all in the name of tax breaks. The thing is, something tells me that San Diego denizens wouldn't mind if the stadium and surrounding district were to be named "Padres Stadium" and "Padres Village." Oops…I forgot: multi-million dollar sporting operations like the Padres aren't like other profit-driven corporations; they're only in it for the love of the game.

I'll admit, I'm curious as to the benefits of attaching a brand name to a city district, stadium or other locale for that matter. Does it really lead to desirous results for the advertiser? Consider the fact that household name brands, from Coca-Cola and McDonald's to IBM and AOL did not get to where they are today from slapping their names on just any old product, place or event. They spend endless amounts of time and dollars establishing branding strategies. One wonders whether in some cases, buying naming rights would only serve to dilute a brand.

In the end, I feel for dissatisfied East Village residents. The upside is that they have the ability to cause a little branding backfire. Not only can they boycott the offending company's products, they can vote against City Councilman Maienschein in the next election. Either that, or they can pool together some pro-Maienschein campaign financing funds and sponsor him throughout his next term.

Puff the Magic Cancer Stick
-- OR --
Wee Worker Revolution
When I was a kid, my mom never let me or my brother buy candy cigarettes. In her mind, it was no different from allowing us to light up the real thing. Something tells me that had I grown up in Moscow, Mom would have had a lot more to worry about than gateway candy products.

You see, up until recently, Philip Morris International has hired teenage Muscovites to "hand out cigarettes and promotional trinkets on the streets of Moscow." Hey, Philip Morris was only doin' these kids a favor. I mean, if you were growing up during the tumultuous Yeltsin years, you'd need the cool, refreshing taste of a Marlboro to get you by, too.

Why'd the tobaccy tots have to quit? Well, as mentioned in the 4/30 Advertising Age article, Russia's Anti-Monopoly Ministry "sent letters to major tobacco companies and to ad agencies warning that images of people promoting tobacco and alcohol must be at least 35." Aw man, that's not fair. How's Philip Morris supposed to convince full-grown adults to start smoking?

So, while contenders like British-American Tobacco and R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Co. have refrained from their smokin' street promos entirely, Philip Morris has ditched the kids and hired about 200 road reps, "mainly housewives" to distribute Marlboros and economy cigs, Optima.

Anna Vasilieva, director general of Coral Promotion, a local Philip Morris agency, admits that the switch may be for the best since the ladies seem to have more influence than the teens did. "They have old Soviet traits, which sometimes are not that bad at all -- discipline and the ability to persuade people." Maybe she's right. Those old Soviet traits sure coaxed space-travelin' man, Dennis Tito out of a whole lotta rubles.