Advertorials

The shelf life of a B-List celebrity anywhere is usually short lived. In New Zealand, that shelf is more of a skirting board, precariously propping up the VIP-guest-list and shopping-mall-opening dreams of our once slightly famous.

But for those not smart enough to start an orange juice company, what meaningful source of income remains, ten years after the spotlight (albeit, a weak one to begin with) fades? Not famous enough for Dancing With The Stars, too famous to work in Burger Fuel. Where to next for hostesses of 80′s game shows, singers of defunct 90′s, chicken-themed, dub-rock-lite bands, or the ex-cast of Shortland Street (those that didn’t attempt brief & unsuccessful careers overseas before ending up back on the show)?

In the apparently endless, mildly informative, and altogether embarrassing world of Advertorials, that’s where.

Advertising cleverly disguised as objective opinion or fact, advertorials, like rabbits or gorse, are not a New Zealand invention, but have, since their introduction, bred well here. In the early days, they existed only in the print media, particularly the Reader’ Digest, sometimes blending so well into their surroundings, that it wasn’t until about 300 words in, that you realised you were actually reading a commercial for some hair-loss remedy, or a course on how to make money from creative writing. This was shortly followed by a deep sense of shame, and personal disappointment, that you didn’t read the small print declaring that ‘This is a paid endorsement’.

But it wasn’t until advertorials morphed into Infomercials, arriving on Kiwi TV screens in the early 90s, that our love affair with product placement really blossomed. Screened late at night to begin with, infomercials sometimes rated higher than real television (especially among the 16 to 22 year old, heavy drug using demographic).  Sales of the advertised items exceeded all expectations. It wasn’t long before people simply couldn’t remember a time when they didn’t need a knife that could cut through steel. Exercise was not about sweat and hard work any more, it was about ‘Technique’. And only a loser would continue in business without the ability to memorise the names of at least 200 strangers in a room.

Local ad agencies pitched the formula to their clients for whom (in what is an especially Kiwi tradition) production value, and budget, are almost always last in a long list of campaign requirements, which usually goes something like;

1. Must include the owner of the business, or (if not possible)..
2. Must include the daughter of the owner of the business, or (if not possible)..
3. Must include a recognisable, but not expensive, face.
4. Must be made for less than the price of a weekend at a Best Western in Rotorua.
5. Must look like it cost less than the price of a weekend at a Best Western in Rotorua.
6. Graphics must be punctuated by at least double (preferrably triple) exclamation marks, and should first spin, then stamp, onto the screen.
7. Use of fast, repeated zooming in and out, to highlight a product, is desirable.
8. Audio FX should include either a) the sound of smashing glass, b) screeching tyres, or c) a slide trombone.

Which is why, some years later, we find ourselves in the rather uncomfortable position of having the facts of Herpes explained to us by Jude Dobson, every other night.  On first viewing, you could be forgiven for mistaking Family Health Diary for independent medical advice – perhaps a government funded PSA, or mini-documentary. But really, they’re just trying to sell you Worm Pills, Thrush Ointment or Berrocca.

It is the same ‘pioneers’ of advertising, BrandWorld, who, capitalising on the public appetite for shows by Jamie Oliver or Nigella Lawson, have helped blurred the lines between a cooking show and telemarketing, with the Eating Well series, offering such inspired nutritional advice as ‘weet-bix and milk is a complete nutritional meal for under $1′. After all, if it keeps a 300 mile a week marathon runner like Marnie Oberer skinny, it’ll surely work for you.

Brand Power, on the other hand, offers only Facts & Values. And because they have the word ‘Facts’ in their slogan – and facts are always true – you know their reviews are totally unbiased. It can only be assumed that they are funded independently, perhaps by some benevolent multi-millionaire bent on finding the truth to such important questions as “which toilet paper really does chafe the least?”. Plus, their logo is red, which shows they mean business.

But the greatest level of cringe has to be the Discover series, featuring Fiona McDonald, Theresa Healy and a selection of quality products, including Kiwi Shaved Meats, reconstituted chicken Tegel Pasta, and the delightfully named Chop Chop! Chicken in a Can (the ‘Tuna of the Land’?). One can but wonder how long they must have been waiting by the phone, to be desperate enough to take that call.

Although, the truth is, clever self promotion dressed up as independent advice is nothing new in New Zealand. Just read the ingredients in the Edmond’s Cook Book recipe for pancakes…

• Edmond’s Pancake and Pikelet Mix
• Milk

What, no eggs?

Still, without advertorials, our poor, once-popular local celebs might have to go out and find a real job like the rest of us. And is that really something we want weighing on our national conscience?

Probably.