No sale!
This Friday, the flashback is not so much a movie or TV show, but television itself. As I was sitting in my living room trying to find some entertainment on the TV machine, I was surprised to find a show called “Flash Forward,” which wasn’t too awful. That is, the content of the show wasn’t too awful.
Unfortunately, every twelve minutes or so, when I was really into it and on the edge of my couch waiting for that next little tidbit that would tell me why everyone on the planet blacked out for 2 minutes and seventeen seconds, something extremely disturbing and annoying would happen – a commercial, those irritating little reminders that tell us that the time slot we’re currently watching has been rented by Tylenol or Lexus or Welch’s Grape Juice or – biggest insult of all – the network we’re currently watching.
Anyone who knows me knows that I watch very little commercial television. It takes a might exceptional show to keep me coming back after a five-minute commercial break. Some of those exception shows are “Desperate Housewives,” “30 Rock,” “The Office.” They are worth waiting for the end of the string of “Pizza Hut,” and “Garnier Fructise” commercials. But I don’t listen to them. I mute them. They sound much better that way. I would rather not be jarred out of my semi-conscious couch potato state by a commercial that is at least 5 decibels louder than the program I’m watching in order to view the trailer for the latest film about hippy undercover cops chasing the mastermind of a pot-growing syndicate through a nudist colony…on skateboards.
But contemporary television marketing has gotten completely out of hand. Everything is, “Want to see what happens next? Go to our website?” “Want to talk to the start of your favorite show? Go to our website?” “Want to know a great way to remove vomit from bed sheets? Visit our website.” Everything is conceived to drive traffic to each network’s website.
And what do we find when we get there? Other things that networks want to sell us. If you miss an episode of “Desperate Housewives,” don’t worry? You can catch up on the website. But don’t think you’ve escaped the scourge of commercial television just because you’re not, technically, watching television. Oh, no! The website episodes have commercials embedded into the content, so don’t bother trying to fast forward through them. Just do what I do in real time – Say hello my little computer mute button!
What happened to the days when there was, maybe, one commercial during each commercial break?
I remember being in college and watching television in the TV room of my dorm with some American dorm-mates and some British exchange students. The show opening for a popular series came on, then the show went immediately to a commercial. The British students looked at each other and laughed, baffled. The Americans, used to such immediate and intrusive interruptions, asked the Brits what was so funny. We were told that British TV shows never started that way, that there was always entertainment content before the first commercial. I sighed and dreamed of the day American television would work that way.
Of course, today it does work that way, except now we have twice as many commercials within each program to make up for the fact that the programs start immediately after the opening. Is there really that much more crap worth buying? If so, I guess you can call that progress.
But with the advent of TiVo and the DVR, most people end up fast-forwarding through commercials, so advertisers have, necessarily, become more innovative and clever in their efforts to expose viewers to their products. They’ve returned to that age-old TV advertising strategy of sponsoring programs. My local news happens to be sponsored by Chase Bank, so guess which bank robbery will get the top slot on the news should such an awful event occur?
TNT promotes its upcoming programming in the lower eighth of the television screen during its current programming. Sometimes these promotions can be quite jarring. You might be watching a particularly dramatic scene on “Law and Order” when a tiny formula one race car skids across the screen trailing smoke followed by a tiny pit crew, which proceeds to change the car’s tire, all in an effort to promote the network’s NASCAR programming. What’s even more jarring is the notion that “Law and Order” viewers can also be NASCAR fans. Talk about strange bedfellows.
No matter where I tune my old-fashioned television dial, there is always someone trying to sell me something. But it’s more than just selling. It’s an interruption, an intrusion. I can only go to the bathroom so many times in a one-hour period, so I am inevitably forced to watch these sales pitches once in a while. And guess what? They’re still annoying, even with the sound muted.
Sure, the commercial directors/advertisers work hard to make these sales pitches look like entertainment, but they are still sales pitches. I don’t care if there’s a woman floating in an inner-tube to sell me Pine Sol, or an eight month-old baby talking about stocks to sell me on the Etrade service. I still know it’s a commercial.
Like that naïve college student baffled by the British reaction to the American commercial-before-content version of television, I still have a dream. Now I dream of a day when there are no more TV commercials within television programming. I dream of the day when commercials will come in 6 minute blocks before and after the programs I watch like they do on cable because that’s the American way.
Perhaps this isn’t so much a flashback as much as it’s a flash forward.
This Friday, the flashback is not so much a movie or TV, but television itself. As I was sitting in my living room trying to find something to entertainment on the TV machine, I was surprised to find a show called “Flash Forward,” which was too awful. That is, the content of the show wasn’t too awful.
Unfortunately, every twelve minutes or so, when I was really into it and on the edge of my couch waiting for that next little tidbit that would tell me why everyone on the planet blacked out for 2 minutes and seventeen seconds, something extremely disturbing and annoying would happen – a commercial, those irritating little reminders that tell us that the time slot we’re currently watching has been rented by Tylenol or Lexus or Welch’s Grape Juice or – biggest insult of all – the network we’re currently watching.
Anyone who knows me knows that I watch very little commercial television. It takes a might exceptional show to keep me coming back after a five-minute commercial break. Some of those exception shows are “Desperate Housewives,” “30 Rock, “The Office.” They are worth waiting for the end of the string of “Pizza Hut,” and “Garnier Fructise” commercials. But I don’t listen to them. I mute them. They sound much better that way. I would rather not be jarred out of my semi-conscious couch potato state by a commercial that is at least 5 decibels louder than the program I’m watching in order to view the trailer for the latest film about hippy undercover cops chasing the mastermind of a pot-growing syndicate through a nudist colony…on skateboards.
But contemporary television marketing has gotten completely out of hand. Everything is, “Want to see what happens next? Go to our website?” “Want to talk to the start of your favorite show? Go to our website?” “Want to know a great way to remove vomit from bed sheets? Visit our website.” Everything is conceived to drive traffic to each network’s website.
And what do we find when we get there? Other things that networks want to sell us. If you miss an episode of “Desperate Housewives,” don’t worry? You can catch up on the website. But don’t think you’ve escaped the scourge of commercial television just because you’re not, technically, watching television. Oh, no! The web episodes have commercials embedded into the content, so don’t bother trying to fast forward through them. Just do what I do in real time – “Hello my little computer mute button!”
What happened to the days when there was, maybe, one commercial during each commercial break. I remember being in college and watching television in the TV room of my dorm with some British exchange students. The show opening for a popular series came on then the show immediately went to commercial. The British students looked at each other and laughed. The Americans, used to such immediate and intrusive interruptions, asked them what was so funny. We were told that British TV shows never start that way. There’s always entertainment content before the commercial. I sighed and dreamed of the day American television would work that way.
Of course, today it does work that way, except now we have twice as many commercials within each program to make up for the fact that the programs start immediately after the opening. I guess you can call that progress.
But with the advent of TiVo and the DVR, most people end up fast-forwarding through commercials, so advertisers have, necessarily, become more innovative and clever in their efforts to expose viewers to their products. They’ve returned to that age-old TV advertising strategy of sponsoring programs. My local news happens to be sponsored by Chase Bank, so guess which bank robbery will get the top slot on the news should such an awful event happen to occur?
TNT promotes its upcoming programming in the lower eighth of the screen during its current programming. Sometimes these promotions can be quite jarring. You might be watching a particularly dramatic scene from “Law and Order” when a tiny formula one race car skids across the screen trailing smoke followed by a tiny pit crew, which proceeds to change the car’s tire, all in an effort to promote the network’s NASCAR programming. What’s even more jarring is the notion that “Law and Order” viewers could also be NASCAR fans.
No matter where I tune on my non-existent television dial, there is always someone trying to sell me something. But it’s more than just selling. It’s an interruption, an intrusion, a way to keep me from doing something I want to do. I can only go to the bathroom so many times in a one-hour period, so I am inevitably forced to watch these sales pitches once in a while.
Sure, the commercial directors/advertisers work hard to make these sales pitches look like entertainment, but there are still sales pitches. I don’t care if there’s a guy in his kitchen dancing in his underwear to sell me a pizza, or an eight month-old baby talking about stocks to sell me on the Etrade service. I still know it’s a commercial.
Like that naïve college student baffled by the British reaction to the American commercial before content version of television, I still have a dream. Now I dream of a day when there are no more TV commercials within television programming. I dream of the day when commercials will come in 6 minute blocks before and after the programs I watch like they do on cable because that’s the American way.
Perhaps this isn’t so much a flashback as much as it’s a flash forward.
Mental Pizza 