Commercials that Enable Advertisers to Connect with Wider Audiences... "Visual Diversity"
By Todd Lewan, National Writer
Ever see an inner-city schoolyard filled with white, Asian and black teens shooting hoops? Or middle-aged white and Latino men swigging beer and watching the Super Bowl on their black neighbor’s couch? Or Asians and Latinos dancing the night away in a hip-hop club? All it takes is a television. Yes, that mesmerizing mass purveyor of aspiration, desire and self-awareness regularly airs commercials these days that show Americans of different races and ethnicities interacting in integrated schools, country clubs, workplaces and homes, bonded by their love of the products they consume. Think about one of Pepsi’s newest spots, “Refresh Anthem,” which debuted during the Super Bowl. The ad, which features Bob Dylan and hip-hop producer will.i.am, is a collage of images from the ’60s and today that celebrate generations past and present. Whites and blacks are shown returning from war, surfing, skateboarding, dancing and waving American flags at political rallies, while a boyish Dylan and a present-day will.i.am take turns singing the Dylan classic, “Forever Young,” each in his signature style. Or, take the latest hit spot from E…TRADE, which stars the E…TRADE Baby, a 9-month-old white boy, and his newest buddy — a black infant who, from his own highchair, agrees with the wisdom of online investing even in a down economy. Ads like these are part of a subtle, yet increasingly visible strategy that marketers refer to as “visual diversity” — commercials that enable advertisers to connect with wider audiences while conveying a message that corporate America is not just “in touch,” racially speaking, but inclusive. It wasn’t always like this. For much of the past century, “minorities were either invisible in mainstream media, or handed negative roles that generally had them in a subservient position,” says Jerome Williams, a professor of advertising and African-American studies at the University of Texas at Austin. “Today, you’re starting to see a juxtaposition of blacks and whites together, doing the things people do … Now, advertisers are not in a position of pushing social justice. But to the extent that they can put whites and blacks together in situations, I think that’s a good thing.” These “multiculti” ads may be evidence of the vitality of assimilation, America’s distinctive, master trend. To advertisers, though, they’re simply smart business — a recognition of a new cultural mainstream that prizes diversity, a recognition that we are fast approaching a day when the predominant hue in America will no longer be white. “Going forward, all advertising is going to be multicultural by definition, because in most states, majority ethnic populations will no longer exist,” says Danny Allen, managing director at SENSIS, an ad agency in Los Angeles that specializes in reaching multicultural audiences through digital and online media. Just as the Obama campaign sensed the nation’s desire to reconcile its racial problems, he adds, “advertisers are also tapping into that same yearning, particularly among younger Americans, to put racial divisions behind us and move forward in a more unified way.” And yet, some critics wonder if depicting America as a racial nirvana today may have an unintended downside — that of airbrushing out of the public consciousness the economic and social chasms that still separate whites, blacks and Latinos. Even on Madison Avenue, which is generating the inclusive messages, recent studies find few nonwhites in decision-making and creative positions within the advertising industry itself. Are multiculti ads, then, an accurate barometer of our racial progress, a showcase of our hopes in that direction — or a reminder of how far we still have to go? In the days when Aunt Jemima appeared on boxes of pancake mix as a servile “Mammy” character — a plump, smiling African-American woman in a checkered apron and a kerchief — advertisers aimed largely for the so-called “general market,” code for white consumers, rather than smaller, satellite “ethnic” markets. Whites still hold most of the economic clout in the United States — 85.5 percent of the nation’s annual buying power of $10 trillion, according to a 2007 study by the Selig Center for Economic Growth at the University of Georgia. In recent years, though, marketers have been revising old assumptions and campaigns in anticipation of profound shifts in the nation’s demographics, and in reaction to changes already under way in what the Selig Center describes as “The Multicultural Economy.” They note that: โขAfrican-American buying power has risen from $318 billion in 1990 to $845 billion in 2007 — a 166 percent gain. Whites’ buying power rose 124 percent during that period. โขThe combined buying power of African-Americans, Asians and Native Americans was $1.4 trillion in 2007, a gain of 201 percent since 1990. Meanwhile, the economic clout of Latinos rose by 307 percent, to $862 billion, over that span. โขThe number of black-owned companies rose 45 percent from 1997 to 2002 — 4ยฝ times faster than the national average — and their receipts grew slightly faster than all others. Native American-owned businesses increased by 67 percent, Asian firms 24 percent, Latino companies 31 percent. โขThe black population grew 27 percent from 1990 to 2007, compared to 15 percent for whites and 21 percent overall. And the percentage of multiracial citizens, though just 1.6 percent of America’s 302 million people, is swelling at 10 times the rate of white population growth. If current trends continue, demographers say, nonwhites will be in the majority in America by 2042 — a prospect not lost on advertisers, says Melanie Shreffler, editor of Marketing to the Emerging Majorities, an industry newsletter. Marketers “aren’t turning out multicultural ads for the good of society,” says Shreffler. “They recognize there is money involved. If you skip out on a group that is going to be half the population by 2042 — good heavens, who are you marketing to?” Which, perhaps, explains a couple of other current ads: A black-and-white commercial produced by Spike Lee for Gatorade Mission G features close-ups of white, black and multiracial athletes, staring straight into the camera to tell viewers about heart, hustle and soul; a spot promoting Cash4Gold.com has two famously bankrupt celebrity pitchmen of different races, Ed McMahon and rap artist MC Hammer, explaining how easy it is to liquidate gold cufflinks, golf clubs and the like. Karl Carter, chief executive of the Atlanta marketing agency GTM Inc. (Guerrilla Tactics Media), calls this the “Benetton Approach” since it echoes a 1980s campaign by United Colors of Benetton that pictured interracial close-ups, such as a white woman and a black woman hugging an Asian baby. Such ads often depict, Carter says, “a bunch of different races playing along, side by side, Kumbaya.” The ads may play well now, but Carter wonders how long they will be effective — particularly as America “beiges” and race becomes less essential to how individuals self-identify. Over the long run, advertisers would do better, he says, to focus on a cultural approach with versatile images and campaigns easily adapted to highly individualized tastes. Put another way: How do hip-hoppers feel? What are the common desires of surfers, or skateboarders, or kayakers? “With young people who’ve grown up biracially or surrounded by different cultures and races, it’s more about what connects them.” Pepsi appears to have digested the message. Though its “Refresh Everything” ads include people of multiple races, “We’re targeting anyone who embodies optimism and the spirit of youth,” says Nicole Bradley, a Pepsi spokeswoman. “It’s more about a mind-set than a demographic.” In these times, multiculturalism is cool — and likely to get cooler, says Sonya Grier, a marketing professor at American University who is studying how consumers of different races respond to multicultural ads and “ethnically neutral” models in ads. The Obama presidency, in her view, will have enormous impact on the industries that set out to mold our desires at a subconscious level. “Advertising has to reflect reality, to some degree,” she says. “So, now that the president is African-American, I think companies that were once afraid to put members of multiple ethnic groups in their ads might see a chance here to go ahead and take a risk, or even see it as necessary.” Four men in suits and ties are eating in a Holiday Inn Express breakfast bar when they see a pretty white woman enter. “We’re going to send her a plate of bacon,” says the black member of the group. His white colleague suggests a cheese omelet. No, an English muffin would be more proper, advises an older, white friend. How about a hot cinnamon roll, asks a fourth man, who looks multiethnic. “Cinnamon roll?” the black man asks, incredulously. “That’s something you send your sister. I’m going to send her some bacon.” He hands a plate of bacon to a waitress, who delivers it to the young woman — “Compliments of those guys.” “Ohhh,” the woman exclaims, uncomfortably, and with an awkward smile and a sheepish shrug, holds up what she really wants for breakfast: “Yogurt?” This 2008 spot is clever not only for its humor, but because it gingerly tests one of several racial boundaries most advertisers are still loath to cross: The presentation of interracial courting or romance. “It’s still one of the three taboos in the industry,” says Williams, the University of Texas advertising professor. Each semester, he hands a Valentine’s Day ad to his students that depicts a black man presenting flowers to a white woman in a romantic setting. Most of his students don’t see anything wrong with it. However, he adds, “When I ask them to take it home to show their parents and grandparents, the reaction I get is still, ‘We’re not quite ready for that yet.'”Other no-nos? There aren’t many ads depicting multiracial families or biracial couples interacting normally at home, whether having supper or watching a movie. And in ads that depict professional settings, people of color rarely appear in charge — as CEOs, say, giving presentations to their board of directors. “Every now and then you see something that bucks the trend,” says Williams. “But when you do content analyses of ads, you are astounded by how much stereotypes are still part of the advertising we all digest.” One reason that racial distortions persist may be the relatively low numbers of blacks in the $31 billion advertising industry, and a dearth of blacks in positions of power. A report released in January by the Madison Avenue Project, a coalition of legal, civil rights and ad industry leaders, found dramatic levels of bias in the industry, with African-American professionals lagging in pay, hiring, promotions and assignments. Some findings: โขBlack college graduates earn 80 cents for every dollar made by their equally qualified, white counterparts, and salaries of $100,000 are disproportionately less likely for African-American managers and professionals. โขSixteen percent of large advertising firms employ no black managers or professionals; in the overall labor market, 7 percent of companies are without blacks in those positions. โขBlacks are only 62 percent as likely as whites to work in the powerful “creative” and “client contact” functions. Numbers are not the only reason black voices go unheard as ads are made. Says Grier, the marketing professor at American University: “I often have former classmates and MBA students who are in brand-marketing or advertising-related functions call me and say, “My company showed an ad, I thought it was stereotypical, but I was the only one in the room and did not know how to bring it up.'” Despite their flaws, it would be hard to argue that the multicultural messages of today aren’t vastly more dignified and realistic in their portrayal of minorities than those that appeared a few decades ago. And yet, might today’s ads also be implanting false assumptions that our race problems have been fixed, that all Americans are living comfortable, upper-middle-class lifestyles in racially harmonious settings? Charles Gallagher, chair and professor of the sociology department at La Salle University, worries about just this. “If you were to come down from another planet and watch TV, you’d think that all of these human beings share a lot of intimacy, regardless of the way they look,” Gallagher says. “But the reality is, people of different races don’t share social space like that.” An ad showing Latinos and Asians eating potato chips at a softball game or whites and blacks sporting pricey watches while dining out can, he says, “hide the fact that poverty disproportionately affects certain groups.” Indeed, African-Americans’ median income is just 61 percent that of whites, and blacks are nearly twice as likely to be unemployed, government figures show. Whites 65 or older receive 25 times as much income from retirement investments as elderly blacks, and poverty rates for black children are 2ยฝ times higher than for whites. About 80 percent of whites live in neighborhoods in which 95 percent of their neighbors are also white, and census data shows 90 percent of the neighborhoods that were predominantly or exclusively black in 1990 remained that way a decade later. “My students always say to me, ‘Isn’t it better to have these ads? It’s kind of a fake-it-’til-you-make-it kind of thing,'” Gallagher says. “The problem with that, I tell them, is that distortions and false impressions never do anyone any good.” Shreffler, the ad industry newsletter editor, says marketers aren’t sociologists and in the end green — not black or white or brown — is often the most important color. “Advertising is aspirational,” she adds. “It’s who we want to be, a lifestyle we want — not always who we are.”
After 20 Years of Acting, Megan Park Finds Her Groove In The Director’s Chair On “My Old Ass”
Megan Park feels a little bad that her movie is making so many people cry. It's not just a single tear either โ more like full body sobs.
She didn't set out to make a tearjerker with "My Old Ass," now streaming on Prime Video. She just wanted to tell a story about a young woman in conversation with her older self. The film is quite funny (the dialogue between 18-year-old and almost 40-year-old Elliott happens because of a mushroom trip that includes a Justin Bieber cover), but it packs an emotional punch, too.
Writing, Park said, is often her way of working through things. When she put pen to paper on "My Old Ass," she was a new mom and staying in her childhood bedroom during the pandemic. One night, she and her whole nuclear family slept under the same roof. She didn't know it then, but it would be the last time, and she started wondering what it would be like to have known that.
In the film, older Elliott ( Aubrey Plaza ) advises younger Elliott ( Maisy Stella ) to not be so eager to leave her provincial town, her younger brothers and her parents and to slow down and appreciate things as they are. She also tells her to stay away from a guy named Chad who she meets the next day and discovers that, unfortunately, he's quite cute.
At 38, Park is just getting started as a filmmaker. Her first, "The Fallout," in which Jenna Ortega plays a teen in the aftermath of a school shooting, had one of those pandemic releases that didn't even feel real. But it did get the attention of Margot Robbie 's production company LuckyChap Entertainment, who reached out to Park to see what other ideas she had brewing.
"They were very instrumental in encouraging me to go with it," Park said. "They're just really even-keeled, good people, which makes... Read More