http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=TrBMb82iv4Q
Interesting campaign, this one.
Comes out of the product in two ways, completely distinctive, simultaneously makes no sense and lots of sense.
What’s not to like?
Here’s that ad-whore Audrey Hepburn selling out for Galaxy.
I’m surprised she agreed to do it, really. After all, she was always incredibly thin thanks to an eating disorder developed during the German occupation of her home country of Holland. In the Dutch Famine that followed in the winter of 1944, the Germans blocked the resupply routes of the Netherlands’ already-limited food and fuel supplies as retaliation for railway strikes that were held to hinder German occupation. People starved and froze to death in the streets; Hepburn and many others resorted to making flour out of tulip bulbs to bake cakes and biscuits
When the country was liberated, Hepburn said in an interview that she fell ill from putting too much sugar in her oatmeal and eating an entire can of condensed milk. Hepburn’s wartime experiences then sparked her devotion to UNICEF.
So she wasn’t really that into eating shitty chocolate on a bus, not that Mars or whoever is behind that ad gives a fuck.
Last week I had the pleasure of meeting a potential new agent (I’ve finished the sequel to Instinct but my old agent wasn’t quite right for me. He got me a good deal with Penguin but he didn’t have enough experience in exploiting my further rights for movies, video games etc. Also, he wanted to concentrate more on non-fiction. We parted amicably).
The new guy is Darley Anderson, and he’s the agent of people like Lee Child and Martina Cole, so he knows a thing or two about selling books.
Our conversation was very interesting because it highlighted several issues about the literary world that hadn’t really occurred to me and probably don’t occur to the vast majority of people who read or write books.
The main difference between Darley and most of the other literary agents is his commitment to publishing as a business. Most of us consider books to be special things that see us through our first break-up, or a trying bout of glandular fever when no friends were allowed to visit for six months. Of course that’s true, but they are also ‘things’ that need to be ‘sold’ otherwise large corporations go ‘bust’, and if that happens no one gets to read about incidents of dogs in the nighttime or lives of Pi. Commercial fiction financially props up literary fiction. Without Martina Cole there is no Hillary Mantel, so we can either acknowledge and foster the writing of the books that sell millions of copies in airports or we can look down our noses at them for failing to be Thomas Hardy or Kazuo Ishiguro. (By the way, I am fully aware that ‘literary’ fiction can sell in great numbers, but it does so far less often than commercial fiction.)
So we discussed Lee Child a great deal and he told me that Lee has absolutely no interest in becoming a ‘brand’ himself. He is only interested in promoting the brand of Jack Reacher. This is based on the fact that Harry Potter, James Bond and every superhero ever invented are far more memorable and powerful than the people who created them. Lee and Darley fight tooth and nail to reduce Lee’s name on his covers and increase the point size of Jack.
Lee seemed to have a very pragmatic vision for the massive success of his novels from the outset. He writes a book every year without fail (sometimes two), working from September to March. You can guarantee there will be a Jack Reacher novel out in hardback in September, to be followed by a paperback for the holiday market the following summer. That’s what the creation of a brand is: the consistent supply of what your consumers want, and that doesn’t necessarily mean following a kind of formula as Lee/Jack does; it can also mean literary eclecticism along the lines of Ian McEwan’s output. His fans expect a well-written novel, often with some shocking violence and dark humour, but the inconsistency of his output is his brand, so people expect the unexpected. Along the same lines, many actors and musicians have a brand (AKA something they are very good at). When Tom Cruise leaves the action hero brand people tend not to bother with his films, even though he’s a massive star. Equally, The Rolling Stones brand of edgy rock is incredibly strong, but if Mick Jagger tries to step outside it with some solo work, no one is interested. People love Cadbury’s Dairy Milk, but Cadbury’s Smash failed because it went outside the brand.
So you have to choose your game. Do you try to create a deliberate degree of consistency that will have people returning for more of what they’ve already liked, or do you believe that literature is a pure art form that consists of whatever the muse drops into your lap, or whatever stories you need to tell? I believe there’s nothing wrong with either route, but both involve playing a different game to provide distinct benefits for the people that play them. If you want money or (in my case) to make a movie from your story then creating a commercial fiction brand will drastically increase the odds of both those things coming your way. However, if you want to feel you have artistic integrity, or indeed artistic quality (however subjective that notion) then you probably want to just write ‘books’ and not really mind that they don’t sell that many copies and need to be compatible with a day job so that you can pay the rent (of course, most books exist in the area in between the two).
This can then throw up the thorny issue of whether or not you aim for the absolute pinnacle of everything you try to do, and what that really means. We could all try to be Dickens, but even he was thought of as a commercial fiction writer who was disregarded until many years after his death. Is it wrong to aim for popularity and not spend years searching for every single one of the mots justes? Like I said, there is no wrong. You are allowed to try to do things that aren’t what other people consider to be the best use of your time. It’s probably best to just aim for something that makes you happy and fulfilled, then spend your life trying to achieve it. You might find that the journey leads you to a destination you weren’t expecting.
(PS: Lee on how he writes. Great advice.)
Living movie stills (thanks, G).
The people you see on Jeremy Kyle (thanks, T).
Danny Boyle’s 15 Golden Rules of Filmmaking (thanks, L).
Let’s hear it for Patrick Stewart on domestic violence:
Alan Fletcher’s archive (thanks, W).
Remarkable commentary for Lionel Mesi goal (thanks, G):
Famous people’s business cards.
What stand up comedy is all about (thanks, E):
Realistic newspaper comment simulator (thanks, W).
Detailed Back To The Future timeline (thanks, G).
Wonderful hate mail from Mr. Bingo (thanks, S).
Crazy Kit-Kit flavours (thanks, J).
What’s not to love about David Bowie?
Johnny Rotten on Judge Judy (thanks, G):
Generate an excellent movie concept – instantly!(Thanks, A.)
‘Pick something that isn’t for your own gain and commit to it’:
(Thanks, D.)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?&v=3FOae1V1-Xg
(Thanks, D.)
Internet personalities are intriguing entities.
So often they spew forth cute soundbites that collapse under the slightest scrutiny.
Many times they offer up a view of the future that could be predicted by the stupider of my two cats (in case Tyler is reading this I’m referring to Dave).
Regularly they frustrate those of us who believe you need something substantial to support your ability to claim greater knowledge then the next guy/gal.
And that leads us to Santiago Swallow. You can read about him here but for the lazier among you I’ll condense the crux of that link:
Swallow is “a Mexican-born, American motivational speaker, consultant, educator, and author, whose speeches and publications focus on understanding modern culture in the age of social networking, globally interconnected media, user generated content and the Internet.”
He has almost 100,000 Twitter followers (and one of those natty blue ticks).
And he has a Kred influence score of 754 out of 1000.
But the most startling thing about him?
He doesn’t exist.
He was invented by Kevin Ashton as a sort of prank/experiment that exposes the depths (or lack thereof) required to become an internet ‘star’.
When I was told about Santiago (by Dave Dye. Thanks, D) I remarked that if you were down to your last £500 you could take this route to become a big enough internet personality/speaker etc. that you could make a living from it.
Anyone fancy trying that?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3nMYeKjrFCo
Originality? Yes.
Engagement? Yes.
Strong idea? Yes.
Consistent with brand over long-running campaign? Yes.
Vaguely amusing? Yes.
It brings to mind an idea Paul Briginshaw and Malcolm Duffy had while I was at AMV. They wanted to show 55 seconds of people singing ‘I Will Survive’, followed by the Volvo log (or something like that). It never happened, so I’m glad something fairly similar has graced the airwaves 15 years later.
(PS: some people have asked about the ‘mystery’ post that was up here earlier. They mystery has been solved. The long, boring film was for the Geneva Motor Show. The above ad is the proper commercial.)
Shit taxidermy (thanks, A).
Very interesting explanation of nostalgia (thanks, G):
This guy (thanks, J):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QeIgu3BQS7w&feature=player_embedded
Matthew Guy is trending on Twitter.
Painful nut shots (thanks, J):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a-c8bv7e6EI&feature=player_embedded
Worst films at Cannes 2013 (thanks, G).
10-year-old kids reading Vice AU’s comments (thanks, J).
Hollywood dance tribute (thanks, G):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=9l5TrAXScbE
Facebook group dedicated to drawing dicks (slightly NSFW. Thanks, J).
Just funny (thanks, V).
Here are a couple of comments from last week’s blog:
What if your creative director tells you not to do it and you do it and you DONT win a D&AD Gold and sales DONT go up in fact…you just get bollocked for going against your CD’s superioriority. Guess what? You get fired and you get fucked with no job to go to. You’re not the Gold Pencil Winning maverick, you’re just the little prick that thinks he knows best and wont take proper direction. Sadly, this is not the 80s and we are not all Paul Arden or Graham Fink. This is a business. There are rules and hierachies. Its not making art. Like it or not you kind of have to follow them to a point.
You either stand in for what you believe (and get sacked with no job to go to) or just follow orders and produce shit like this.
I found them a bit sad.
On one side I can see where they are coming from, but on the other I worry that people approach the only life they are ever going to have in a way that leaves them so restricted in the possibilities they see for themselves.
Yes, advertising is nowhere near as fun as it seemed to be back in the 60s/70s/80s/90s, but that doesn’t mean you should go about your day producing mediocre work for fear of getting fired. That way lies a life of timidity, of squeezing yourself into corners in the hope that you will remain unseen. You don’t have to run around your department naked or throw plant pots out of windows to live a life of great light and heat. You don’t have to be Hendrix, Michelangelo or Shakespeare. You don’t even have to win a Cannes Gold.
You just have to see what your life could be and aim somewhere in that direction instead of hoping no one notices you for the next seventy years before you head off to feed worms.
I know, I know… You’re still sitting there mouthing ‘It’s all right for you, I’ve got a mortgage and a kid and a DVD habit that needs constant feeding’. I get that, but there are so many risk-free ways of realising your possibilities: instead of watching Downton Abbey, write it (writing is pretty much free – you can even get free pens in the bookies and write on stolen toilet paper). Instead of reading a novel, write one. Go and try an open mic night (being a stand-up is also free). Take photos with your phone and become a photographer. Start a blog. Draw, paint, master the lute.
None of that need get in the way of you writing crappy ads, but it could all lead to a life you’ll look back on with immense satisfaction and no regrets.
Quick – while there’s still time.
