Bringing sexy back

When it comes to Halloween costumes, witches are getting the short end of the broomstick. In recent years sexy has become the new scary, with “slutty nurses” outnumbering “corpse brides” 5 to 1 at most costume parties (based on informal studies).

Halloween has become the time when normal girls give hookers the night off, squeezing themselves into tube tops, fishnets, and ridiculous boots and dropping more innuendoes than Colin Farrell at a girl scout jamboree.

I was at a costume party recently and there was this girl who was wearing a black bra and short-shorts. I asked her what she was, and she said, “You didn’t see me earlier – I had wings. I’m a Victoria’s Secret model.”

I nodded, but what I wanted to say was, “Dude, you just took your top off, that’s not a costume. That’s an uncostume.”

A note to the ladies: If you go to a party wearing the Million Dollar Diamond-Studded Bra, then it’s okay to say you’re a Victoria’s Secret model. Otherwise, put your shirt back on.

What no Chippendale’s dancers?

These days, the travesty it seems is that while female costumes are getting sexier, male costumes are getting dorkier. Social gimp Napoleon Dynamite, cultural naïf Borat, Harry Potter – nerdy characters are out in full force.

I have to ask – where are the male Calvin Klein underwear models? Where are the sexy male doctors? Clearly there is a need for more alluring costumes for men.

But while this male/female discrepancy continues, there is one type of Halloween celebrant working to really bring us all together – the people dressed as pimps. Because, as we all know, every dork could use a little help with the ladies – especially when they’re so extremely sexy.

For love of the game

What won’t men do for sports?

Good question.




At this week’s meeting of the American College of Emergency Physicians, a study was released whose findings indicated that men are likely to postpone a trip to the Emergency Room in order to finish watching a sporting event on TV.

This study decidedly begs the question: What are these men doing during the game that calls for a visit to the ER?
Are they pulling a groin during a victory dance? Are high-fives getting out of hand?

It seems that men are willing to sacrifice their own health for love of the game.

Which brings us to the next news item – coffins for sports fans.

Sure you say you’re a die-hard, but when the game’s over – and I mean the game’s REALLY over, how will you show your love for your team?

Major League Baseball announced today that they will be partnering with Michigan-based company Eternal Image, to produce customized coffins (or tasteful urns for the crematically-inclined) emblazoned with team logos.

That’s right, for a small price, you can be buried knowing that you were the Sox’s number one fan.

After this announcement, it is expected that many funerals may begin to include “the wave” and will require all attendees to paint their chests.

So don’t worry, in case you don’t make it to the ER in time, your team will still know how much you loved them.

“Man of the Year” scores narrow victory

"You never know what your history is going to be like until long after you're gone." --George W. Bush, Washington, D.C., May 5, 2006

In an era where we’ve learned that every vote doesn’t necessarily count, global warming and evolution are up for debate, and even the Straight Talk Express can get hijacked, it seems plausible that Americans might choose to nominate a comedian for political office. I mean, rather than elect an inadvertent comedian to a high-ranking position – such as president.

In Barry Levinson’s “Man of the Year” we meet Tom Dobbs (Robin Williams), host of a successful comedy-news program, who has just announced his very real intention of running for president. With the help of his writing staff (including Lewis Black) and manager (Christopher Walken), Dobbs lands the independent spot in the Presidential debates and gets fired up like Howard Dean on truth serum. Before we know it – Dobbs not only gets on the ballot, he gets elected.

If that seems a little far-fetched, it’s because there is another force at work – a new online voting system that takes the fear of the hanging chad out of the voting booth. Concocted by Silicon Valley geniuses, the system is safe, effective, and fool-proof… except for that one tiny counting error. When Eleanor Green (Laura Linney) finds the error days before the election, she reports it to the head of the company, who chooses to ignore it in the interest of not losing market share.

After Dobbs is declared the winner, Eleanor knows she needs to tell somebody – and decides to tell Mr. Dobbs himself.

This is where the plot gets a little murky, as Dobbs meets Eleanor and seemingly develops a non-governmental (i.e. romantic) interest in her. Meanwhile, Eleanor is surrounded by melodramatic paranoia – thanks to the voting system thugs who are trying to capture her.

While the film’s more serious undertone keeps it from slipping into absurdist territory, “Man of the Year” falters when it loses sight of the fact that it’s a comedy. The notion of romance that is introduced between Dobbs and Eleanor is forced more through plot than character, as Eleanor’s only interest seems to be unraveling her nervous conspiracy theory.

With that conceit, “Man of the Year” is an enjoyable film, and it’s refreshing to see Robin Williams emerging from his dark-and-creepy phase. Christopher Walken, too, delivers a great performance as the chain-smoking emphysema-affected manager (though I’d liked to have seen a joke or two about the tobacco lobbies.) And while Lewis Black is highly underutilized, it’s nice to have his presence as a tip of the hat to that other great comedy-news program, “The Daily Show.”

At times “Man of the Year” feels a bit like Levinson’s other creation, 1997’s “Wag the Dog.” But as that film’s circumstances (a fake war is manufactured to cover up a Presidential sex scandal) have become increasingly closer to reality in the years since, it is understandable that Levinson would hope to make a more outlandish and less likely picture (comedian running for president) … That is, unless you move to Minnesota and vote for Al Franken.

Victoria’s Secret – Let the cat out of the bag already

When Victoria’s Secret unleashed their PINK line and ad campaign in late July, they celebrated the release with Ashlee Simpson hosting “the world’s biggest pajama party” in NYC. The event was meant to channel buzz and conjure images of underwear-clad pillow fights and gossipy slumber parties (though the only real gossip was concerning Simpson’s plastic surgery.)

The PINK line is largely targeted to girls who still haven’t grown out of their sorority lifestyle and insist on wearing velour “loungewear” and short-shorts with words on the butt. (Hey, I’m all about getting people to read more, but this is ridiculous.)

The real travesty of this campaign is not that Victoria’s Secret is creating a fake sorority so that you can feel better about yourself. It’s not that they’re embracing bodies modified by plastic surgery. The real travesty is that the marketers at Victoria’s Secret have forgotten what they’re truly best at.

They aren’t best at selling you underwear; they’re best at selling you the idea of not wearing any underwear. That, my friend, is a subtle art.

With this in mind, the savvy marketers need to put down whatever they’re doing and get the Pussycat Dolls on the phone. Right now.

As we all know, the Pussycat Dolls aren’t really a singing group; they’re a lingerie group. And they still manage to sell CDs. Imagine if they were selling lingerie.

Victoria’s Secret needs to launch a new campaign – they could call it the “Victoria’s Secret Lets the Cat out of the Bag” campaign. It would be headed up by the Pussycat Dolls in print and TV ads – and would then feature a new hit single by the group, along the lines of “Buttons,” but most likely called something like “Panties.”

Moreover, the brilliance of this campaign would really be in costs saved – as Victoria’s Secret would use the group to sell you the tiniest underwear possible. Manufacturing and materials costs would go down, and sales would go up. (Also, in case I forgot to tell you, the name of the group is the Pussycat Dolls.)

So listen savvy marketers, it’s time you lost the loungewear, enlisted the Dolls, and started making tiny panties. Remember, in the underwear business, less is more.

Seen on the street

This car was actually being driven by a giant squirrel.
















Wow, this was written in cement. They must really mean it.

Brandon Flowers: Man of Style

We’re huddled inside the dark recesses of Pure night club where Brandon Flowers is scurrying between a microphone at the front of the stage and a keyboard off to the side, decked out in a white dinner jacket and white pants – even though it’s January.

This was the first time I saw the Killers, in their hometown of Las Vegas. It was seemingly fitting, with the white jacket and long black tie Flowers looked like a Vegas waiter who’d decided to front a band – and in some ways, that’s exactly what happened. When the band first came together, Flowers was working in Vegas casinos, before answering an ad placed by guitarist David Keuning in 2002.

Now, clad in a three-piece outfit – complete with a grey vest and turquoise bow-tie – Flowers is channeling the old west. Endorsing the new album, “Sam’s Town,” the Killers were wearing boots and vests, and sporting mustaches at the Warfield in San Francisco last night.

While Flowers still looks slick and not the least bit underdressed, he’s not rocking the dark androgyny or subtle eyeliner he sported while on tour with “Hot Fuss.” Perhaps this is more telling than it first appears – as “Sam’s Town” is also not nearly as slick or subtly dark as “Hot Fuss.”

A dense mixture of lyrics and shaded landscape wrapped in pop surroundings, “Hot Fuss” is a very complete album – the words are complicated, but when set to music, they seem to make sense. (I may not understand “All these things that I have done” – but it’s beautiful.)

By comparison, “Sam’s Town” is a bit bland – and in concert this shows. Perhaps the crowd is not as pumped to hear the band’s new stuff simply because they aren’t familiar with it yet – but it seems that the band itself is not as excited to play their new songs.

“Sam’s Town” is supposed to be a throwback to the early days of Vegas – the title being the name of a casino popular there during the 1970s. But instead of giving us stories about the underbelly of the real Las Vegas – that might have produced a dark and lonely album mixed with pop rage – we get a mix of forgettable and seemingly muddled tracks. The lyrics aren’t as dense or complicated as those on “Hot Fuss” – and it’s hard to listen to the album as a whole.

While the Killers delivered a high-energy Warfield show, blending old and new tracks and getting the crowd behind them early on by playing “Somebody told me” (after playing the new album’s first three songs right in a row) – they’ll have to work hard to get true “Hot Fuss” fans on-board with “Sam’s Town.”

In short, I would like to issue a small appeal to Mr. Flowers: Ditch the cowboy boots and bring back the dinner jacket.

Demetri Martin attractive

Google away, my friend.

Marketing 201: Why Dane Cook is a marketing tool, “Snakes on a Plane” was destined to fail, and demographics no longer matter

MySpace: The Final Frontier

When people talk about Dane Cook, comedian and star of this week’s big screen release “Employee of the Month,” they often describe him as something of an internet phenom, a proprietor of the MySpace revolution, someone whose “friend” tally once rivaled Tom himself. (Cook made news when his total number of “friends” on MySpace topped one million.) And despite how you might feel about Dane Cook as a comedian (here I am repressing my own critical judgments) – there is an undeniable fact – Dane Cook is a marketing tool.

Cook proved that he could build a brand – or rather, build himself into a brand by providing his own fan base. MySpace provided the perfect opportunity for Cook to bring himself to his fans, and ultimately gather new fans. Together with his own website, Cook built a buzz for himself by himself online, and did so rather quickly.

What may be often overlooked by reporters bringing the “Dane Cook overnight success” story is that he’s actually been at for a long time. And by “at it,” I mean, pursuing a career in entertainment. (Yes, his filmography includes roles as The Waffler in 1999’s “Mystery Men” and as Sausage Mascot in 2004’s “Mr. 3000.”) Dane Cook may not be so much a comedian as he is an entertainer – and he may not be so much an entertainer as he is a brilliant marketer and shameless self-promoter. And let’s face it, that’s what it really takes to make it in Hollywood. Just look at Paris Hilton.

When it comes right down to it, talent, personality, and even sex appeal can all be bought. You can hire people to train you to memorize clever lines, you can perfect your musical sound with in-studio technology, and you can go under the knife or get a fabulous fake tan, provided you have enough cash. But tirelessly promoting yourself takes endurance and hard work. This is where Ms. Hilton excels better than anyone.

Here you might roll your eyes and say “Aack, she’s everywhere!” and you’d be right. Actively provoking people to watch her show, grab her CD, or buy her perfume and hand bags, Paris is a one-woman show. And despite the flack that she may incur multiple times a day, few would argue that Paris is a brilliant marketer.

Despite her wealthy upbringing, it was really a little sex tape that found its way onto the internet that moved Ms. Hilton from the secluded recesses of posh city life to the noisy screens of every television in America. As you can imagine, the girl is heavily Googled.

So it seems that with the right placement, the right target audience, and the right combination of kitsch and sex appeal, most anyone could build a brand and sell it online, right? Right?

When Shameless Promotion Goes Too Far

We all knew it was coming and we were waiting with baited breath. We watched the trailer, we heard the rumors, we saw Sam Jackson everywhere from MTV to The Tonight Show, we even heard him on our phones telling us to go see his new movie. We voted in online contests, we watched Dave Chappelle mock Samuel L., we bought T-shirts, but ultimately we did not go to the theater. Why?

“Snakes on a Plane” is a prime example of brilliant marketing. The buzz surrounding the film before it was released was enormous, and it seemed that a film that ought to be destined for the “straight to DVD” section at Blockbuster, would actually be a blockbuster. Backed by a high level of audience participation—so high that viewers of early cuts voted to add in Mr. Jackson’s now-infamous lines, and get “Snakes” a sexier R-rating – most everyone expected the film to have a huge turn-out in theaters.

But when it came time to perform at the box office, it ultimately bit the big one.
(As of the weekend ending October 1, “Snakes” had grossed some $33.8 million. “Accepted”- the teen comedy about a kid who makes up a fake college – opened the same weekend as “Snakes” and has grossed nearly $36 million. The production budget for “Snakes” was $33 million. For “Accepted” it was $23 million.) Why?

There are three reasons why this plane may have crashed prematurely:

1) Essentially “Snakes on a Plane” is a punchline. No doubt, it’s a good punchline, but there’s no joke to accompany it. It’s not like you’re going to a movie called “Snakes…” (the set-up)– and that’s all you know – and when you get to the theater “…on a plane” is the punchline. No, you’re getting the punchline up front – without the joke. What does that mean? It means that once you’ve heard the line a few times, you’re satisfied, and asking you to take a trip to the theater, is really asking a lot.

2) The R-rating. Audiences asked for it – and they got it. And truly, the R-rating is what makes the film rather great, and what makes the film worth trekking to the theater for. But ultimately the rating may have inhibited “Snakes” core audience – the MySpace 13– 16 year old sweet spot. The 16-year-old male is largely regarded as prime target movie-goer – and he may have been kept out of the theater.

3) Overmarketing. By the time “Snakes on a Plane” debuted in theaters, audiences had seen promotions for the movie everywhere. Interest had peaked weeks before the film opened, and when it finally debuted – to surprisingly nice treatment from critics (The New York Times gave it three out of four stars, and most outlets commended it) – the public didn’t turn out to see it. Truth is, they’d had their fill and already moved on.

Marketing is all about timing. And while the film couldn’t have asked for better exposure – it could have exposed itself a little less before it’s debut, and peaked its promotions after a few weeks in the theaters. If people only know a little and they’re interested – they’ll make the trip to the Cineplex.

Case in point: “The Blair Witch Project”

Touted as a “real” horror flick that followed three disappearing film students into the woods to meet their untimely death, much of the initial success of “Blair Witch” must be attributed to savvy marketing. Debuting in 1999, the film’s marketers were just enough ahead of the curve that they were able to cash in (literally) on a burgeoning phenomenon – that’s right – the internet.

Rumors began circulating online just before the film was released, and while the film had already won over critics at Sundance and Cannes, nothing was revealed about the “reality” of the film until it had already been released and was making money. Turns out that the young student filmmakers had never really disappeared, and had hardly been consumed by an evil witch in the forest. It had all been a clever marketing ploy. Clever enough that even while people were in theaters, they were asking, “Is this real?”

The secret to the “Blair Witch” success was that the marketers were able to keep things as secretive as possible, without over-promoting or creating too much buzz too soon. Turns out, their internet marketing scheme and keen timing proved successful – “Blair Witch” grossed more than $248 million.

We’re all watching the Tube

The truth is, when it comes to internet promotions, standard demographics don’t matter. That is, they don’t matter as much as channels. By “channels” I mean, the outlets through which something is promoted – be it CNN, Yahoo, MySpace, MTV, etc. Marketers are necessarily limiting themselves, or spreading themselves widely, through the channels they promote through.

There have emerged a number of channels that have so wide an appeal that demographics no longer really matter. Google, YouTube, AIM, all serve as channels with so wide an appeal and reach that they cannot adequately categorize a “type” of user. MySpace functions this way to a much lesser extent. There seems to be (at least) a pretty solid demographic associated with the service – mostly teens and pre-teens. (“Creepy old people” has yet to become it’s own demographic.)

On the internet, there is no “prime time” or “family hour.” I’m free to watch videos on BET.com, or listen to tracks from Paris Hilton’s CD in the privacy of my own room in front of my own computer – things I might not do in a more public place, such as a store or a common area of my home.

Undoubtedly the internet has opened the floodgates for marketers, and everyone from Dane Cook to Paris Hilton is jumping on board. Let’s just hope they don’t go overboard.