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TIME: Almanac 1990
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1990 Time Magazine Compact Almanac, The (1991)(Time).iso
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time
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091889
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09188900.010
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1990-09-17
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SHOW BUSINESS, Page 70Hoots and Howls at AdsViewers are resisting commercials in theaters and on tapes
The public is never wrong," proclaimed film pioneer Adolph
Zukor, and on such wisdom Hollywood was built. Zukor's maxim is as
sound today as it was when Rodeo Drive was just a furrow in a
field, but now it is being challenged by what may be the most
offensive idea since Smell-O-Vision: commercials in movie theaters
and on videocassettes.
The 1987 cassette of Top Gun was the first film to carry a
commercial plug (Diet Pepsi was the sponsor), but since then the
tapes of a dozen or so other movies have hawked everything from
candy bars (Moonstruck, Dirty Dancing) to Jeeps (Platoon). Though
the just released cassette of Rain Man sells for no less than
$89.95, its distributors, capitalizing on the vintage Buick that
is featured in the film, put in an ad for -- you guessed it --
Buick. The otherwise splendid new release of The Wizard of Oz
starts off with a one-minute Downy commercial.
Two companies are even adding commercials for local businesses,
which include everything from pizza parlors to car washes; these
ads are sometimes in addition to those already inserted by the
studios. With the same kind of self-righteous growl a dog utters
when a rival approaches his dinner bowl, Paramount, which started
the phenomenon with Top Gun, has brought suit in a federal court
in Wichita to stop such Johnny-come-latelies.
The gain for the studios is obvious. But what the sponsors hope
to achieve is something of a mystery. Procter & Gamble, the company
that makes Downy, will spend $8.5 million to advertise The Wizard
of Oz tape. Yet, according to two surveys, at least two-thirds, and
perhaps as many as nine-tenths, of all viewers push the
fast-forward button when they spot an ad.
The trend is not confined to cassettes. Almost one-third of
the country's 24,000 movie screens are also bombarding patrons with
commercials. "We are purveyors of entertainment that sells," says
Terry Laughren, president of Screenvision Cinema Network, the
largest distributor of theater advertising.
But unlike the stay-at-homes, moviegoers who pay cash at the
box office are captives, without a speedup button to zap the
obnoxious spots. Many are starting to rebel, and hoots and howls
are common when commercials flash onto screens in New York City,
where ticket prices run as high as $7.50.
Moviemakers are among the loudest complainers. "Commercials
cheapen the medium and put the audience in a bad mood before they
see the film," says director Phil Alden Robinson (Field of Dreams),
expressing the overwhelming reaction among producers and directors.
A majority of theater owners still agree, refusing to turn their
screens into billboards. "Our experience with commercials was very
negative," says Gregory Rutkowski, a vice president of AMC
Entertainment, which owns 1,700 screens across the country. "We
tested them several times, and our customers told us that they
won't stand for them. You can't underestimate the intelligence of
the audience." To which Zukor would probably say, "I told you so."