No Soup for You? Soupy Sales TV Legacy

I was lucky enough to grow up in New Jersey when Soupy Sales, who died yesterday at 83,  was in his heyday. Us high-schoolers rushed home for his antics every day at 4, Saturday as I remember at 6:30 (Saturdays were when the big stars showed up to be pied.)

I loved when he tuned in the radio on the windows sill with the puppet Pookie. It was a pop culture explosion– bits of teen hits of the day, followed by old time radio like The Shadow, The Hindenburg, and audio skits recorded for the radio bit, etc.

The song, “Do the Mouse”  was hilarious, as was the dance, which it was supposed to be– defining “irony” as a form of humor where bad equals good… or something.

When he returned from his suspension (for asking the kiddies to go through their New Year’s Eve hung-over parents clothes for pictures of George Washington) he blasted “Happy Days are Here Again” and showed film of silent movie pie fights, car crashes, etc. for almost five minutes before walking on set.

I did attend his big Soupy Sales Easter show at the Paramount Theater which featured The Hollies, Little Richard (and his guitar player, Jimi Hendrix), and as they say, many others.

Almost every TV show he did– five days a week– was outlined, but not scripted. And for all the hub-bub, he was only on in New York for two years.

But I think his kind of show– outlined, live, adlibbed, supposedly for kiddies, but really for teens who wanted to be treated like adults– was the exit point for the afternoon kiddy show and the entry point for things like SNL and “Fridays”– on the air barely ten years later. Letterman and Conan followed.

Just more proof that creativity is a continuum. Thanks, Soupy.

NBC’s On-Demand Multi-Cam is Awesome!

Really, you just have to experience it. Pick the angle you want. The best part is the pre-game, where you can see the camerapeople searching for shots, seeking out the stars, and grabbing quick looks at cheerleaders. You can watch all the pre-game lat minute hub-bub and rehearsals and warmups. Just watching the cable-cam is a unique experience. And the stuff that goes on during commercials shows what a… show… this all is. (Okay, I’ve never been to an NFL game live, so excuse me!)

Go to http://player.snfextra.nbcsports.com/player.htm

The Art of the Interview Pt. 2 (in 12 seconds)

The idea of posting Twitter-style length-limited videos via Twitter and 12seconds.tv is pretty challenging… and fun. It forces you to think in the shorter chunks younger demographics are used to… and yet make a complete statement.

And yet, in the video business, 12 seconds is… well it’s not even a thirty second spot!

The points that I wanted to make about our services– well, that’s the point– I have to niche it up, and make a single point about a single service.

Well, here’s the latest, about interviews.

The Art of the Interview: How to be Invisible

Interviewing for an audio-visual enterprise is an ancient art.

In a good documentary, the star of the interview is the person being interviewed. The interviewer is typically off-camera, and if the interviewer is really good, you’ll never see them or hear them speak. Why?

They ask questions that get full answers.

The art of the interview has been bastardized by today’s TV performer who wants not only to look handsome or pretty, but also smart. So they ask a lot of rapid fire questions. They’ve only got a minute, and they are thinking Emmy. So these questions contain major hints at the answer the interviewer is looking for.

Interviewer: Tell me about how horrible you must feel now that you’re house has burned down?

Interviewee: I feel bad.

Well, yes. But it can be worse. I often hear local cable interviewers ask the question this way:

Interviewer: The fact that your house burned down must make you feel awfully bad, doesn’t it?

Interviewee: Yes, yes it does.

Interviewer: How bad?

Interviewee: pretty bad.

Pretty bad, indeed.

In a corporate long form documentary style video, an ideal scenario is the video that can be “narrated” solely by the interviewees, through their own words, in complete and meaningful sentences. Suffice it to say that this is hard work. You must ask the right questions in the right fashion and then have the editing chops to put it together into a compelling narrative that has a beginning, middle, climax, and end. The interviewee will not be a talking head on camera, so you have no excuse to make your interviews TV style, where editing would cause unsightly jump cuts (therefore giving the producer an excuse to edit less. More gross profit!)

Some producers will pretend that TV style interviews are the right way to sell business-to-business products and services. That’s ridiculous. Looking at two talking heads blathering on without b-roll, music, or story is an absolute waste of a company’s dollars. That producer has no intention of working for his or her money.

We believe in interview style videos, just as surely as we believe in unstaged actualities to convince audiences of a product’s quality or a company’s intent or philosophy.

Yes, it takes longer, and it costs a bit more. But the shelf life can be very long, and the impact multi-tiered. Its a technique that works at meetings, or on the web. Consider this technique for your next video.

An example can be found by clicking on the image below.

Excerpt from Corporate Founder Story Video

Ed McMahon Taught Me How to Write

When Ric Sorgel and I started Sorgel-Lee in 1972, we didn’t have to worry about voice-over announcers. Our first few jobs were interview style arts slide shows. Point the microphone, ask questions, get answers, edit it into a documentary continuity.

But in the summer of that year, we were asked by Ric’s friend Mike Kiefer (with some influence from Ric’s Dad) if we’d like to produce a slide show touting their company, Kiefer Corporation. A real corporate project! Kiefer sold commercial kitchen impliments and did custom stainless steel fabrication, and they wanted something to show at a trade show.

The answer was yes, the budget cheap, and I had my first real script to write. No relying on other people’s voices, this had to be written for a narrator. And since the budget was cheap, we couldn’t afford– and for that matter, didn’t know– an announcer.

My job was to write the script and produce the soundtrack to which the slides would be edited. And, I agreed, I would read the narration as well.

From an entrepreneurial standpoint, this was perhaps the critical moment in my development as an audio-visual person. My first script, my first narrative soundtrack, and my first (and I hoped, only) voice-over read. How I handled the assignment would define our house style for years to come.

I was a mimic in those days. I did impressions of Ed Sullivan, Jack Benny, George Burns, Kirk Douglas, Johnny Carson…. wait! Johnny Carson, Johnny Carson… Ed McMahon!  Budweiser. Clydesdales. Tonight Show Commercial Reader. Ed McMahon was the answer.

Short sentences, a good theme line, a low key personable approach. Ed McMahon didn’t write what he read, but he made it sound like it. I worked on the script, maybe 3 or 4 pages,  and I remember the final line– it was a direct rip-off of some Budweiser commercial read by McMahon:

” Kiefer Corporation. All… You’ll ever need.”

No explanatories, like “This is Kiefer Corporation, your leader in kitchenware.” No verbs. No complete sentences— and a dot dot dot to guarantee the pause in the right place. Hell, even I could read that, it was so clean.

Which I did. We lived in a one bedroom apartment which was distinguished by the fact that it had one closet for the entire apartment, in the back corner of what passed for a living room.

In that closet was all our earthly possessions, which, given that this was Wisconsin, included a bunch of winter coats. I set up my tape recorder outside the closet, fished the mike cable under the door, attached the Shure SM57 microphone, started the tape recorder and closed the door. I stood in between the coats to insure no reverb or reflections, and also to help give some bass boost to my voice. And I read. And reread. Until I could hear Ed McMahon.

I never read professionally again, but what I had done that day worked beautifully. It helped me define the words I would write, the music I would use, the style of our shows, and the pace of our shows.

It made us a real company, with a real industrial demo to show. It helped put us on the map.

Thanks, Ed McMahon. Your were all we ever needed.

The Swine Flu: If It Comes Back, I’ve Got a PSA Ready.

Once upon a time, there was the swine flu epidemic. Well, almost.

It came in the mid-seventies– documented cases of the swine flu.

(Now,it may be coming around again. Let’s hope we avert it.)

For  the ’70′s version we were hired by the State of Wisconsin to produce Public Service Announcements warning of the potential tragedies of the imminent swine flu, and urging people to get flu shots.  Problem was simply that no one had ever heard of a swine flu, and those that had, well, they thought “Swine Flu” sounded pretty funny.

People weren’t paying enough attention, and it was our job to get attention.

First, we did a spot featuring an interview from a survivor of a real swine flu epidemic in the 1920′s. We did another with a couple of Green Bay Packers doing some locker room talk about “taking out” the swine flu (this was before the Reggie White / Brett Favre Packers, and ten years after the Lombardi era.)

Finally, came my turn. I decided that we had to emphasize the risks of not getting a flu shot. To do this, I featured a gambler, standing under the proverbial 5000 lb weight which was hanging from a rope.

Here’s a foggy copy of what transpired.

Swine Flu PSA: The Gambler from brienlee on Vimeo.

I can tell you this: at the end of that 30 seconds, I was scared. I thought I had killed the talent, Larry Roscioli. So did the crew members at WTMJ-TV4 in Milwaukee.

Luckily Larry emerged from the studio smiling and asking, “Need another take?”

No. But I did need a drink.

Which is why I don’t remember whether I got my flu shot or not.

24 Hour Demo Station? Meet Mogulus

To the right of this entry (at least until I write another entry) is something I call my “24 Hour Demo Station.”

If you click on it, you’ll join (in progress) a continuing loop of my company’s greatest hits, plus the occasional live break or pre-recorded commentary thrown in for good measure (starring, well, me.) It’s a service called Mogulus.

I’ve been playing with Mogulus for about a year. It has had its quirks, but seems pretty solid now. You essentially upload the various clips you want, then either “DJ” them live (with a camcorder pointed at your head), or simply set them up to play continuously, or on demand.

You can have as many play-lists as you want.

There are so many paradigms for web video these days– live, YouTube, Vlog, streaming, play on demand, and now this, that you have to wonder if there’s room for them all. So far, the answer is yes.

There are variations (or perhaps Mogulus is the variation): Stickam, Ubroadcast, MeTV, TV.com, and many others. I’ve played with them all, but Mogulus, despite its steeper learning curve, seems to offer a more permanent ongoing presence.

I’m not sure of its SEO value… I’m going to check into that. After all, what good is a tree broadcasting in the woods if nobody tunes in?

More on this story as it develops.

Back to you, Keith, or Rachel, or Brian, or Bill, or….

H-P’s Extravagant Spot vs. Simple Corporate Video: Corporate Video Wins!

Bob Garfield, in Ad Age, compares H-P’s new touchscreen computing spot with its bazillion effects (and bazillion dollar budget) with the simple corporate video which simply demos the product. The corporate video wins.

Line of the piece: "Is Goodby being paid by the terabyte?"

By the way, the corporate video was produced by, or at least commissioned by the agency as well. Credit where credit is due.

But I bet that they still had a nice budget for that one, too. After all, they’re an agency.

The Suprising Truth and Beauty of Boston Legal

Business Partner Diane and I were having lunch with Amy Hansmann to discuss an upcoming project (some neat commercials) when the subject turned to television and what we’re watching these days. Turns out we all agree on two programs: 30 Rock, for pure, unadulterated hilarity in both overall writing and comic timing, and Boston Legal, for being… well, Boston Legal.

We were watching Boston Legal last night (we’re halfway through the second season) when we arrived at the same thought at the same time: this show actually LIKES old people. Okay, Mature People. Seasoned Citizens. Baby Boomers. You get the idea.

First of all, consider the principals: The founder of the firm with perhaps emerging Alzheimer’s, played with utter wackiness, abandon and self parody by William Shatner, Jame’s Spader’s brilliant turn as the aging "bad boy" who could just be an older, wiser version of himself from "Pretty in Pink", and Candace Bergen, who defines aging beautifully and gracefully, and matches the bad boys move for move. Then of course, there’s  Rene Auberjonois , Artie Johnson, Shelley Berman and– my God– Betty White.

Not that there aren’t pretty young people in the show– but they almost always reveal their youth, inexperience, and undeserved bravado, then get in trouble, and turn to their elders for solutions and support. Maybe not the real world, but it reminds us of a time when (perhaps) it was.

Yes, today’s world is moving faster and faster. But is everything attributable to change, or was that last "change" just the death of what we used to call a "fad?" Only time, age and perspective can tell.

There’s a lot to be said for experience. 

Cronkite Comments on Network News

Walter Cronkite (it’s okay, kids– he may have been before your time) has an earful to say about today’s broadcast network news, lamenting "your health and mine and your backyard and mine and all that kind of thing" at the expense of more substantive reports.

Golly.

Fact is, I don’t watch much network news anymore. I prefer my magazine items in magazines, or even 60 Minutes, not in the one half-hour a day where we used to get to see what’s going on in the world. So I don’t watch. (Of course, I may be working late, too.)

Read the rest of this entry »