The close connection created in this week’s readings between domesticity and commercialism really
made me think more about the difference in the delivery of ads between integrated product
placement and separate commercials. The dichotomy between these two types seem more
complicated than I initially anticipated. As Modleski demonstrates, there is a disconnect between
soap opera’s high drama and commercials for mundane daily products, suggesting an interruption
that nevertheless feeds into the contradictory roles of the woman of the household. Alternatively,
direct product placement, like the ones described in the readings and the one we watched in class,
seem to add to the liveness of the sitcom but, in my opinion, might also come off as too heavy-
handed. The question of which type of delivery is more effective then came to mind for me. The
disconnect and consequent objectivity of separated commercials might appeal to audiences in more
subtle ways (making it more effective) while also commanding less attention (less effective). On the
other hand, product placement might feel more heavy-handed (less effective), but it also commands
more attention and makes its integration into the idealized domesticity of the program clearer (more
effective).
I bring up this question not necessarily to consider marketing practices but to consider
questions of authenticity and how it can be an avenue as well as a hindrance on the ideologies
constructed by the programs. I’m coming primarily from a place within new media and the return to
product placement found on sites like YouTube. The discourse there is that product placement and
brand deals seem to be taking away from the authenticity of previously amateur content creators.
While TV, unlike new media, has never come from a place of amateurism, I wonder how much it
relies upon authenticity to get its messages across. In Modleski’s exploration of soap operas, she
argues that the close-up builds closeness and intimacy between the viewer and the character,
echoing theories of parasocial engagement online. If the latter is bothered (or at least reconsidered)
in the presence of product placement, then wouldn’t this question of authenticity also apply to TV? In
other words, was commercialism also getting in the way of TV constructing a believable and
appealing image of domesticity? Overall, in our readings, I felt that there was a frictionless
conception between commercialism and domestic intimacy, and I wanted to interrogate that
relationship with what new media discourses had to offer. For me, it seemed important to consider
the methods of ad delivery and how these methods can alter the viewing experience.
Jess, in this context, I feel I must bring up a conversation that the two of us have had before beyond the confines of this course. That is, how have the nature, the execution, and the ideological contours of product placements been transformed by their presence on podcasts? I think it's safe to say that 'pod-placement', as I've just now decided to refer to it, exists within a lineage shared by TV, given their common forebear in radio, but it nevertheless effects a radical change in the sort of feeling, or the mode of embeddedness, with which products are advertised. On my favorite podcast, My Brother, My Brother and Me, the three hosts make little distinction in content or form between their advertisements and their usual brand of absurd, improvisatory narrative humor. Listeners, myself included, often find ourselves wondering if any of their advertisers have reprimanded them or immediately pulled sponsorship, but they swear up and down that no one has ever said anything negative. I think this kind of product placement effects domesticity, insofar as that label continues to apply in contemporary culture, much more strongly that advertising of old, precisely because the products being sold get caught up and reformed into fodder for jokes, in much the same way that domestic spaces and items are consistently refashioned to the whims of their inhabitants and owners. Of course, it's possible that this makes 'pod-placement' all the more ideologically nefarious.
ReplyDeleteIt's certainly interesting watching TV move from "living room box/screen" to "any screen device," and seeing how that impacts the marketing practices (and, consequently, how the ideologies of advertisements shift). A lot has been made of the nostalgia and loss of being able to yell "It's back!" and have someone run back into the room following an ad break. But watching online (at least, by many legal methods) typically involves some sort of ad break that is at the behest of the "old world" formatting of advertisement.
ReplyDeleteIt's only been in the past few years — likely not coincidentally the same years the streaming wars kicked up in earnest — that television networks have really started fiddling with the modern conception of an ad break. Streaming platforms like Hulu offer the ability to pay for a tier without ads for a few extra bucks a month (or Netflix and Amazon, which have a subscription service precisely to do away with ads); you can pay a network directly to watch their content early and potentially ad free, completely disrupting the way one would traditionally watch a program. The very framework of the advertisements shown online are (supposedly, at least) focused to you as a viewer through a series of complicated algorithms and cookies. Whether you're watching a Youtube video or the latest episode of something, the ad served up to you is trying to more directly target your idea of "domesticity" and "desire."
You note that "On the other hand, product placement might feel more heavy-handed (less effective), but it also commands more attention and makes its integration into the idealized domesticity of the program clearer (more effective)," which is a great point. It will be particularly interesting to follow this as brands increasingly seek alternate methods to sell their products, cookies either destroy or encourage online ad targeting, and product integration becomes more and more commonplace on TV.
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ReplyDeleteGreat post, Jess! There's a lot of insightful strands in the post that we can peel from in order to dig into the bigger question--that I see, at least, underlying this post:
ReplyDeleteHow do we account for the production of television/television “stuff” –however we want to define those—and the commercialism/commercial character that the readings attempt to pin onto television/television “stuff”? In what ways are these relations descriptive of television’s role within commercial culture and domestic space, specifically America’s commercial and domestic spheres?
As the post suggests, examining those “types of delivery” (borrowing the post’s words) would allow one to get closer to that account, whatever that account will yield. I want to build off one really fruitful point that the post made: how these methods of “delivery” can affect our viewing experience. There’s certainly something here to be said in terms of the medial relationship between “television” and us, in our current mediascape. And the post hints towards new media and new media discourses as a way for us to rethink those relationships and how today’s commercialism (advertisements, product placements, sponsored videos/sponsored creators) has reconfigured—or at least must be historically and conceptually (re)situated— to better fit those shifting relations.
I also suggest that we think of the ways in which the methods of delivery are contingent on “our” viewing experiences. That is, to what extent do our varied engagement with television/television “stuff” also determine how that same stuff gets produced? I’m sure that we’re aware of the many ways that platforms receive personalized data of our “viewing habits.” So in that sense, the “flow” of advertisements within our Hulu, Netflix, or Crunchyroll programs may be different for you than for me based on what stuff we watch, even though we may watch on the same platform.
But I think that your post does another important thing in illuminating some of the presumptions of the readings in which the mode of production seems to overly determine or be overdetermined by commercialism/domesticity/audience. In other words, if Lipsitz argues that the production of television was to bolster consumption through policymaking and the fears of the American economy during the Great Depression and WW2, how might that relationship between television’s production and television’s commercial character hold up in our current political, cultural, and media environment?
I feel similarly with the frictionless conceptualization of commercialism, domestic intimacy, and television’s mode of production. In fact, perhaps that’s one of the reasons why I feel that those questions around “types of delivery” emerged. That is, I personally feel that the readings’ accounts of American television production were published at a historical moment when television and television production were a specific mix of policies, economies, governmental regulation, mode of production and modes of reception that predated our current deregulated mediascape in which “anyone can enter the communications business” (Telecommunications Act 1996).
Going back to Lipsitz’ argument of postwar American television production determined by the corporate and governmental desires for consumption to bolster the American economy, we need to distinguish between “that” mode of production from today’s modes of distribution, or modes of circulation. In what ways are product placements and advertisements distributed and circulated across networks and platforms? I’ve seen the same “The Fast Saga” promo on both YouTube and Crunchyroll 14 times the past week, but who’s counting?