Pow! Right Between The Eyes! Andy Nulman's Blog About Surprise

What I Learned This Week--A Masterclass From The Muppets: The Power of Identity and Character

 

When I say I had the pleasure of working with the Muppets last week as they hosted two Just For Laughs Galas, I say so in the most extreme form of understatement.  Watching my childhood unfold and come to life not merely in front of my eyes but being able to touch and converse with it, well...there's a moment for the ages. (Check out this very thorough recount of the shows by one major Muppet maven.)

The lessons of professionalism and hard work (learned a new term: "Hands down!" as in puppeteers letting their hands drop for rest during strenuous rehearsal sessions) were many, but none more staggering than the power of a strong identity.

The people who bring the Muppets to life literally live the characters; their faces and body language below reflect the persinality they breathe into the characters above.  Check the photo below of our writing team taking a picture with "Fozzie Bear" and note the similar facial expressions between the beloved furry comic and his human partner. 

Said power of identity was profoundly on display each time a new Muppet character made its way onto our Gala stage.  The arrival of Animal, Miss Piggy, The Swedish Chef, Bunsen and Beaker, Fozzie Bear et al were met with squeals and shrieks from fans of all ages, but the eruption of Beatlemania-esque joy when Kermit The Frog stuck his head through a red curtain and yelped "It's the Muppet All-Star Gala!" was unlike anything I've ever experienced in three decades at Just For Laughs.

Each character was unique, easily identifiable and most importantly, had some personality trait that resonated with its fan base.  Everyone had at least one Muppet to which he or she related to in some personal manner.

The precision definition of each character was a godsend to our creative team, making it (relatively) easier for them to write and create situations for them.  Knowing who a character is, what his/her voice is (both figuratively and literally) simplifies the arduous task of writing to it...and against it, for comedic effect.

Great character definition puts things into stark black-and-white contrast.  There are no grey zones.  A Kermit line is different from a Gonzo line is different from a Miss Piggy line is different from a Pepe the King Prawn line.  There is no crossover...except if you want to mix things up for comic purposes.

The sheer beauty of this is that the gold that comes from the mouths of these characters would be considered cliched or cornball if uttered by a human.  Consider this intro that Rowlf the Dog delivered for comedian Tom Papa:

"Our next act is Tom Papa, and I've been told that he don't preach, he was a rollin' stone and after he went shopping today, he's got a brand new bag.  Ladies and gentlemen, Tom Papa."

You or me or Howie Mandel or Lewis Black say that and people roll their eyes.  Rowlf says it and people roar.  Clear, strong identities make an "okay" line "good"; a "good" line "great"; and a "great" line Incredible,"

Such is the benefit of creating powerful, unique characters.

Before I wrap this up in a business context, consider the genius of Jim Henson.  He created not just one world of characters--more than 30 original Muppets--but two, when you consider the dozens more from Sesame Street. (Almost as impressive are the species created by Matt Groening with The Simpsons and Seth McFarlane with Family Guy, American Dad and The Cleveland Show.) 

As marketers, as business people, we are in the same boat with products or services.  But luckily, we usually can narrow our focus on a spectrum that ranges from a single brand to a handful of them.

Nonetheless, becoming "identifiable characters" instead of merely brands makes it easier to write meaningful and influential advertising, makes it easier to design stores and displays and packaging, makes it easier to ultimately stand out.

The lesson from the Muppets is powerful and simple in theory, but a beast to apply:

Be uniquely recognizable.

Be immediately identifiable.

Be a character.

Or be irrelevant.

Your choice.

What I Learned This Week--The Ultimate People Magnet

What's the secret to a successful restaurant, store, apartment complex, you name it?

Conventional wisdom used to be the trio of "Location. Location, Location."

No more.  Put simply, the trio is now "You.  Me.  Them."

Or put another, more obscure reference way, like the secret to Soylent Green...it's people.

People go where people go. It's that elementary to explain...and inversely, that difficult to ensure.

It's the difference between Google and Yahoo. Between eBay and eBid.  Between Facebook and Google+. And between two nights at our Charlot Club at Just For Laughs this week.

This pre-and-post Gala show encounter spot has been moved to the ground level of Place Des Arts, just outside the main entrance of its main theater. Last week on Thursday night--opening night--it looked just what it was: a cold, stark underground room, albeit well-equipped and funkily designed.  Atop this post is a picture that shows it in final stages of construction, but not far from the reality of Thursday.

Given that passes to the Charlot Club are traditionally some of Just For Laughs most valuable assets, the barrenness of the lieu was puzzling, and alarming.

A late-night meeting and all-hands-on-deck push the next day rectified matters somewhat, as the photo below will attest.  In the space of a week, it went from a troubling desert to a welcoming oasis (so welcoming that I am currently composing this post there, sipping wine on a late Friday night).

The major change?  People.  

I see the same thing in our clubs, theaters, and especially outdoors in our street events.  People beget people. People laugh harder, smile more, drink more, spend more and generally enjoy more when in the company of others.

All this reminds me of a great Yogi Berra line that sums up the relationship between people and success so brilliantly.  Asked about Ruggeri's, a popular St. Louis restaurant during his playing days, Berra said:

"Nobody goes there anymore.  

It's too crowded."

Berraisms aside, if I owned a restaurant, the best marketing I could probably do is hire a gaggle of film/TV extras to populate my place in the downtimes...to ensure uptimes ahead.

So the lesson this week?  

We have an incestuous relationship with each other.

People attract people. 

Everything else pales in comparison.

What I Learned This Week: The Importance of Everyone's Hidden Story

Last Tuesday, opening night at the Just For Laughs Nasty Show, someone shot me a "Pssst!" as I was ordering a drink at the Club Soda bar.  Sitting alone in the corner seat was a sympathetic-looking guy with a well-trimmed grey goatee.

"Evil Kanahdian," he smiled.

"Ah, we finally meet in person!" I smiled back.

Evil Kanadian is a Just For Laughs fan I've been conversing with on Twitter for the past year or so.  We've exchganged Tweets, messages and emails, but until that moment, we'd never met face-to-face.

Looking at him, I'd remembered that during a Twitter exchange I'd dared him to "brand himself" with the Just For Laughs "Victor" mascot logo.  A few weeks later, he sent me a picture as proof of the deed done, but I was still skeptical. I mean, it could be a picture of anyone, or a marker drawing, or...

"Got the tattoo?" I asked. "Lemme see."

He answered affirmatively, and pulled up his shirtsleeve.  Seeing one of our Festival Photogs at the doorway, I called her over to capture the above moment for posterity.  And since we were in full social media mode, I Tweeted and Facebooked the following:

There are fans and then there are SCARY FANS.

Check out @EvilKanahdian.

And yeah, the ink is real and indelible.

People at Just For Laughs couldn't believe it.  Reaction ranged from "Wow! That's incredible!" to "Jeez, what a nutbar."  I just thought that, unlike so many more rational others, some random fan took me seriously on a dare and actually called me on it. 

And that was all I thought about it...until I received an email in my inbox Wednesday afternoon with "A Lengthy Thank You" as its subject line.  With permission from Evil Kanahdian (obviously not his real name), here it is in its entirety: 

It was great to finally meet you at the Nasty how and show you the JFL tattoo. But I think I should clear up why I actually got that specific tat. 

The "dare" component wasn't what really made me decide on doing it. If you are getting inked for life, the reasons behind such decisions must be more than only skin deep.

Four years ago, I lost my wife to cancer. During the last years of her life, one of the things that would relax her enough to go to sleep was watching Craig Ferguson on CBS. She would laugh throughout the show and would fall asleep during the end credits. I always was thankful to him for that. Seeing her sleeping peacefully somewhat reassured me all would be alright. 

After she passed away, I needed time to grieve so I moved to Morin Heights and isolated myself from the rest of the world. Since I can do most of my sales calls through telecommuting and was in a depressed mood, I began developing some type of agoraphobia. Not a great thing for someone who's in sales. I could go weeks without physically interacting with people. To put it simply, I really didn't care anymore.

But when I saw the Ferguson gala promos last year, I thought my wife would have loved to see this. So I decided to face my fears and go. Kind of a posthumous final date with my wife.

I went on the site and bought my ticket. Then I saw the ComicPro ads, decided to get one. Then read about the conference, so upgraded my CP pass to Industry. This led to talking with people at shows and conferences, sitting in the middle of crowds at Place des festivals and an unexpected ending of my grieving period.

At that point, I was already toying with the idea of a tattoo in her memory. So I finally decided to get 3 tattoos in the same session:  

1. The first is the initials of my wife, to remind me of our times together and to aspire to be a better man. 
2. The second is a Craig Ferguson quote "Between safety and adventure, I choose adventure" to keep reminding me to push the limits I set for myself and live life to the fullest.
3. And the last one is the JFL logo, to remind me that, even if all looks dark and bleak, salvation might come in an unexpected way.

Last night, all these thoughts flashed through my head when you extended both hands out to me. I know you probably expected a big "double handed 'fuck yeah' power slap" but I was just overcome by a severe case of the verklempt so you only got an awkward double hand shake.

So thank you for creating something that had that much impact on my life. If I had known, I would have bought that first ticket sooner.

I shared the above with some of my colleagues around the office, all of whom were moved to tears.

So the lesson of the weeK?

Everyone has a reason for their actions; their "story" so to speak.

Don't assume you know it.  You never know.  You never know.

Instead, find a way to learn it.

I'd bet anything you'll be profoundly surprised.

--------------------------------------------------------------

P.S. Bonus Lesson #2 of the Week?  

What we do here at Just For Laughs is far from frivolous.  

A noble cause, my friends, a noble cause.

What I Learned This Week: Taking Hard Decisions

A couple of tough days at the office this week as the 30^th Anniversary edition of Juste pour rire/Just For Laughs kicks into gear.

Last Saturday, Gilbert Rozon and I attended the first true end-to-end run-through of Post Mortem,  a non-verbal show created specifically for (and with, I suppose) us.  This show had been in the works for a couple of years and was scheduled to make its world premiere this Thursday, July 12.

There were some stunning visuals (including the stage being converted into a multi-sprinklered human fountain), some touching moments and the essential framework of a show, but at close to two hours PLUS an intermission, it was way too long.

After a late-night backstage meeting and 60 hours of miraculous overhauling, we sat down again in the theater on Tuesday night.  What we saw was a massive improvement, but still not there yet. 

This time backstage, the tables had been set—literally, in an imposing square—for another meeting of the minds.  And what started out as a very detailed, very constructive criticism of the show soon morphed into the ultimatum “come to Jesus” moment when a very hard decision had to be taken.

After a lot of circling around, we crash-landed on the reality.

The show wasn’t ready.

We all knew it.

And finally, we all agreed to take the hard decision to put it on ice until it was.

Hard decisions are never easy.  And considering that I once had to deal with the decision to take a parent off life-support, the stoppage of a show pales in retrospect.

But still, taking that step from white into black, with no grey zone, is a tough one.

It stings, it bites, it thuds, it hurts...but it's necessary.

Had we not been able to face up to reality, it would’ve been worse.  We would’ve opened with a show that’s not ready.  If we knew it, so would the critics.  And if they knew it, so would the public, which would’ve resulted in sour word-of-mouth, leading to thin houses, the need to “paper” rooms (massive ticket giveaways to people who don’t want to see the show anyway), a depressed group of actors and directors (including a couple of mega-stars in Quebec showbiz), a financial bloodbath and an indelible stain on our 30^th anniversary.

Instead, after dealing with the initial shockwaves (including dealing with a friend who had bought 500 tickets and had planned an event for opening night), we have at least mitigated our immediate losses, and now have a much more defined direction, a more expansive timeline and a chance for what really is a unique show to breathe, finds its footing and ultimately succeed.

So this week’s very tough lesson? 

We are faced with hard decisions often.  Putting them off doesn’t help; the ensuing fallout makes things worse.  Much worse. 

Having the courage

to take the hard decision

doesn’t come easy. 

But it’s necessary. 

And ultimately, it's always

the right thing to do.

By taking one this week—and this sounds so ironic—Post Mortem is still alive.

Time to toughen up even more…’cuz I suspect there will be a few others before this Festival is through!

What I Learned This Week: The Need to Kick The Hornet's Nest

How do you spark interest in a show so successful that most people overlook it because they think it’s already sold out?

Such was the conundrum at Just For Laughs this week as we pondered our marketing strategy for The Nasty Show, the longest-running show series in the event’s history.

A returning show of such popularity is a double-edge sword.  On one hand, it has a built-in audience and heritage, particularly now that its original host, Bobby Slayton, is returning to ringmaster the fray.  On the other, it becomes “part of the furniture,” and suffers from a “been there, done that” malaise, especially when compared to the shiny, new sexy things it’s up against, both within the Just For Laughs realm and our ever-increasing outside competition.

Running an event that has hundreds of little events within it makes it a challenge for any one to stand out.  Luckily, being the X-rated celebration of depravity that it is, The Nasty Show enjoys a built-in hook that we can bring out…if we have the guts.

And that’s what this week’s lesson is all about—the necessity of kicking the hornet’s nest every now and then.

The bold step we took to put the show into overdrive was to break away from the usual “pizza-styled” print ads we place (i.e. large-scale surface with multiple ingredients/shows on top) frequently in the Montreal Gazette and have Slayton and “hijack” the ad with the show’s requisite bad-ass attitude. Here’s the result:

 

Well…that wasn’t the only result.

I got immediate email from some of my media partners saying that if we ever run an ad like this again, we should remove their logos from it.  The Gazette is now demanding a 48-hour approval on any Nasty Show ad we run henceforth. 

More importantly, the ad was quoted, and read verbatim (albeit bleeped), on morning radio shows.  I got calls asking how we got away with it.  And when I attended a political cartoonist’s conference later that day, a representative from the Gazette came up to me and jokingly chided me for the full-page affront, while a number of others commented “I saw the ad.”

Most importantly though, we more-than-doubled our usual daily sales.

So we’re not stopping with “the ad.”  Slayton and the Nasty Show are readying to “hijack” our website, our Facebook and Twitter feed in days to come.  That’s media we control, and are subject only to our own rules.

But sometimes, despite that power in our hands, we are our own worst enemies.  We play by rules that are self-imposed.  We self-censor and hold back on letting loose.

Ironically, one of the guests at the aforementioned cartoonist conference was Barry Blitt, the renowned New Yorker cover artist, who had dinner that night at my place.  Over overcooked tuna (his choice), we talked about his longtime history of kicking hornets’ nests.  Undeniably the star of Francoise Mouly’s new book “Blown Covers: New Yorker Covers You Were Never Meant To See,” Barry is responsible for iconic images like the one below…and the ensuing brouhaha they raise.   But as The New Yorker knows, they sell copies of the magazine…and re-prints of the covers suitable for framing.

Yeah, kicking the hornet’s nest may sometimes result in a few stings.  That’s life. 

But worse than a few stings is the dull numbness of complacency.

Look around.  I’m sure you can find a few of your own hornet’s nests that can use a solid boot.

Still resisting?  Then I’ve got a great way to loosen your inhibitions.

Head to Club Soda and take in The Nasty Show.  Starts next Tuesday ;)