IF YOU’VE SEEN those incomprehensible television commercials that display the actress Jamie Lee Curtis strutting around with that annoying swagger, I have three questions for you:
1. Do the commercials make any sense at all?
2. Can you remember the name of the misguided phone company that for some insane reason is paying her to smirk at the camera, both on TV and in those silly space ads?
3. Haven’t you, after years of exposure to nonsensical celebrity “endorsements” (whatever happened to William Shatner?), become cynical about the sincerity of these for-pay spokespeople?
Everybody’s Happy I bring this up not only because I find the Jamie Lee Curtis Syndrome to be an indication of the imaginative sterility so many advertisers and their agencies seem to share, but also because of Firestone’s naive blurting in the ad trade publications that it would be seeking out a celebrity endorser to help rebuild its tarnished image.
Note, please: Firestone didn’t announce any changes in production or quality control. Instead, the firm carved the standard crude crutch that substitutes attention for salesmanship: We’ll hire some actor and let his image rub off on us. He gets a lot of money, which makes him happy, and we don’t have to struggle to come up with salesworthy ideas, which makes us happy.
Years and years ago, the tire manufacturer made a deal with the highly respected actor James Stewart. I’m not defending the late Mr. Stewart, but circumstances were different. He was a sort of interlocutor, a sincere-looking introducer – not a winged savior. For a company to crow with pride about a decision to ride the coattails of an actor’s ego-rich image, assuming that temporary rapport is optimal advertising…well, that speaks too clearly about the decline of the magical marketing “cocktail”: the easy blend of rapport with smarts and aggressiveness.
So Where’s the Watch? Now we have saturation advertising by a wristwatch. Do we see a watch? No, we see tennis glamour girl Anna Kournikova, not wearing one. Uh…what’s the name of the watch? And for that matter, when was the last time Kournikova won a tournament?
Winner or not, if she were hawking tennis wear or sporting goods, or even if she were just wearing the watch, we could qualify the advertising as advertising. But no, we have to add this one to the Firestone pile – mindless dependence on a celebrity.
Now, wait. Is she replacing Cindy Crawford, who is just coming into full flower hormonally but has become a senior citizen as a model? Crawford also never wore a watch in these ads. Aah, who cares, except the celebrities and their agents? I’ll tell you who should care: whoever is paying for these ads.
Jack Nicklaus is reportedly switching from Maxfli golf balls to Nike. I suppose it’s his right as he approaches his dotage…and who cares that Maxfli balls flew through the air so wondrously during his peak playing years?
Venus Williams is in sync, collecting her $40 million from Nike. There’s a bit of Nicklaus-type irony here, since Williams had a contract with Reebok when she shot to fame.
Typical one-upmanship, generic to countless contemporary sports endorsers: Nike made a $25 million deal with Monica Seles. So Martina Hingis had to get $30 million. Venus Williams needed a sweeter bottom line, didn’t she?
(I’d better get off this track. I play a respectable game of tennis, and Nike won’t even give me a shirt.)
Understand, please: Despite the obscene amounts of money involved, I’m not criticizing Nike for paying Venus Williams and also dishing out – what is it, another $40 million? – to Tiger Woods. He’s the ultimate promoter: bright, affable, literate and probably the best golfer ever. He wears their swoosh logo. Michael Jordan still has his name on Nike basketball shoes. Buick’s deal with Tiger Woods? More questionable, because backing two high-profile products smacks of the kind of commercial insincerity we associate with Arnold Palmer and Bill Cosby (although with Woods’ charisma, he might have saved Oldsmobile).
Nor am I criticizing Kyle MacLachlan for endorsing Ermenegildo Zegna men’s fashions. He’s nothing more than a model here, a tailor’s dummy for men’s fashions. And maybe he’ll make enough money to buy a comb.
It’s a Puzzlement Did Jonathan Pryce abandon Infiniti or was it the reverse? Regardless, it’s a relief, because both he and the viewers were uncomfortable. It paralleled some pillar of society being sentenced to community service.
And I’m still chuckling over Flooz – whatever that is – mounting a campaign touting “valuable business advice from Whoopi Goldberg.” I discussed this with my own financial adviser, Rodney Dangerfield, and we agreed to buy 100 shares of Day-Old Bread Ltd.
Flooz has other problems. Get this key slogan: “Flooz[R]. Just what you wished for.[TM]” And the Web links don’t work. And…aw, the hell with it. Why should we give them free advice?
I’m convinced that a huge percentage of celebrity endorsements are the result of advertising people who just want to get their photographs taken standing next to or playing golf with someone famous. If that’s your own hidden agenda, I know a celebrity who’s available right now and will be glad to pose with you, pending an assignment. Get out your 5-iron and meet O.J. on the third tee.
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