Peggy's Job + Joan's Wardrobe = Mad Men Daydream Happiness

I am the daughter of an Ad Man.  Product loyalty to company clients dictated the brands of my youth (I still hesitate to buy Crest Toothpaste even if it’s on sale because it was Colgate’s biggest competitor back when it was my father’s client).  While I recognize that we are two steps away from a world where our dreams are interrupted by commercial breaks, I have also developed a bit of taste for the innovative lengths companies have taken to make their brands known and remembered.  Though we’re likely about a century and a human rights movement shy of having our subconscious being the latest vehicle for advertising, we’ve also come quite a long way from our simple magazine and television ads.  If you do recall (and I am talking to you, David Simon), these mediums of entertainment were created solely to keep you seated between commercial breaks.

I’ve heard great things about The Wire.  In fact, I’ve only heard great things about The Wire. And while I’ve heard nothing but great things, I don’t watch it because it requires me to pay beyond basic cable.  That’s right.  I’m not paying extra for HBO.  Don’t get me wrong, HBO is fantastic – that sense of freedom both the creators and the viewers feel without the constraints of commercials? My God.  Curse! Have sex! Throw a friend into a wood chipper! You can do it and you can do it graphically because there are no sponsors breathing down your neck about how their product will look popping up right after you’ve viewed a candid conversation about teabagging.  This freedom has aided in the production of some of the most influential programming of our generation (that of course only got to me after it was cleaned up and syndicated on basic cable).  It has also produced some of the dullest and most pretentious (watching In Treatment was like doing hard labor).  And yes, yes, yes, David Simon – I’m sure this freedom gave you all sorts of creative liberties to make your show everything that it is but the fact of the matter is, The Wire isn’t television.  It’s HBO.

And again, while I respect the hell out of near everything HBO has done and continues to do, it isn’t real television.  Working around the commercials and tastefully incorporating product placement is the culture of television.  I will go so far as to say that often times (or at least before the advent of cheap reality TV), advertising enhances the television experience (although yikes, typing that made me squirm a little).  You say you hate it, but without it – something is amiss.  Commercials are to TV shows as “playing games” are to the early stages of dating.  Sure, you feel so much more secure and happy without it – but it can get kind of boring.  It’s an interesting challenge for the writer – “what cliffhanger shall I leave them on before sending them off to two minutes without me?” and it’s a painful pleasure for the viewer – “oh gosh, what’s going to happen now? What’s going to happen? Are they going to address this the moment we get back or are they going to cut to the other storyline and make me wait even longer?” Separating the viewer from the story and distracting them with other things increases the intensity and longing for the show to return.  Absence makes the heart grow fonder.  When the show does come back and the unanswered questions are answered and new questions arise, we’re put right back into the cycle of waiting another commercial break – or worse, an entire week…  We’re left to concoct scenarios in our head and that’s half the pleasure of it all.  And in about a year, the writer and the viewer find themselves in a committed relationship called DVD Sets.  While they’re still great and what you remembered, they’re suddenly with you all the time – totally accessible.  Commercial breaks are replaced with cutting to black for the sole purpose of punctuating the moment but two seconds later, they’re right there with you once again.  Things become predictable and soon, the DVD Sets are left to collect dust on your shelf and only taken out when something reminds you of that one night (probably a second or third season finale) where everything was just so, so good.

Half the creativity in real television lies in how well the creators play these games.  And while I feel I can write an entire book on the complex relationship of television and advertising, today’s question is this: how do we incorporate the sponsors without putting the storyline in a compromising position? Create Mad Men? Don Draper can sell anything.  Truly.  Thanks to Don Draper I have walked into a Banana Republic three more times this month than I have in three years yet the show stands alone as some of the best writing on television.  And they can talk all they want about their sponsors because that’s the whole point! Yay, them.  Obviously, that’s not to say that you have to create a show about advertising in order to tastefully and righteously incorporate your sponsors into the programming.  We know commercials exist and you have to put them in and everything and we expect them and sometimes even enjoy them.  Just do it well.

That being said, any guy I’ve dated or am currently dating that’s reading this post – I don’t play games, I swear.  If I didn’t call back it’s likely because I fell asleep at an inopportune moment or was watching Mad Men.