I blame the Decepticons. Although they attempt to destroy humanity in Michael
Bay’s Transformers, what they signify to the wider movie-going world
is far more sinister. By their presence alone – as living toys in a
toy-friendly movie adapted from a toy-tie-in cartoon based on a vaguely
innovative 1980s toy – they represent the reductio ad absurdum of
mainstream cinema’s increasingly obsessive relationship with, well, toys.
Everyone expects their modern blockbuster to come laden with attendant action
figures and plastic laser blasters, but this summer’s merchandising synergy
has reached fever pitch. The toy-porn antics of Transformers will be
followed by the adventures of four plastic teen bimbettes in Bratz: The Movie,
here played by four embarrassed-looking real-life actresses.
The story is about breaking the power of high school cliques by entering a
talent contest, but it’s really about adding to the Bratz merchandising
machine that, at its height in 2001, had a $3 billion (£1.48 billion)
turnover. Elsewhere The Simpsons Movie – also reviewed on page 14 –
looks likely to add to that brand’s $6 billion merchandising booty, while
film such as the latest Harry Potter, Pirates of the Caribbean: at World’s
End and Shrek the Third have already flooded the toy stores with more
branded juvenilia than ever.
It’s a boomtime summer, says Emma Sherski, the marketing and licensing
director at the international toy distributor Vivid Imaginations
(responsible for Bratz). “There’s always a certain amount of noise around
children’s movies throughout the year, but no one could predict that there’d
be so much activity surrounding these films,” she says.
But could it be possible that the emphasis on toys and merchandising is
denting the creativity behind these same blockbusters? Are we simply
watching, as many critics have noted, a series of shapeless and dramatically
inept toy commercials masquerading as movies? And, more importantly, by
tempting the major Hollywood studios with a multibillion-dollar
merchandising payday, is the toy industry’s sclerotic grip on the
blockbuster in danger of killing the form altogether?
Not a chance, says Sherski, who defends the increasing expansion of the toy
business into the very heart of film-making. As well as Bratz, her company
distributes toys for the Shrek and Pirates franchises, and she naturally
defends the explicit collaborations between toy makers and blockbusting
movie-makers, even at the earliest stages of a film’s development – in fact,
the earlier the better. “We’re often the first in line to share storylines,
scripts or key characters,” she says. “And we work together with the
film-makers to find the best possible toy-line.” Sherski adds, however, that
the toys are always inspired by the movie and aren’t a distracting and
destructive influence on the creative process. “The movies always come
first,” she says. “They always exist in their own right, and the toys are
secondary.”
They might be secondary, but they’re also big business – big enough, possibly,
for a Hollywood studio to consider introducing a new character or storyline
if it might add another $20 million to the licensing agreement.
Here, the money to be made from movie toys is not under debate.
According to The Hollywood Reporter, a top-selling franchise can net a movie
studio an easy $100 million a year. While, famously, the toy giant Hasbro
paid Lucasfilm $650 million for the licence to make Star Wars toys for the
second trilogy (at the time it was suggested that Hasbro might make as much
as $4 billion from the deal), George Lucas is alleged to have made,
personally, $1 billion from the merchandising surrounding the original
trilogy. By the time the final Star Wars instalment, Revenge of the Sith,
arrived on our screens in 2005, Lucas’s entire six-part series had made $9
billion from its merchandising and a “mere” $3 billion from box-office
receipts.
It is, of course, the evil emperor Lucas who is directly responsible for the
toytopia hell-hole we find ourselves in today. In 1977, when he chose to
take Star Warsmerchandising profits rather than box-office receipts, he set
a modern movie precedent. The merchandising wave that followed peaked with
the likes of ET, Batman and Jurassic Park (which famously included a shot of
Jurassic Park toys in the Jurassic Park souvenir shop).
There have, of course, been mis-fires. Godzilla underperformed in both in
cinemas and in toy stores, while Hasbro lost $144 million in 2000, the year
interest faded in Pokémon and the profits for Star Wars I – the Phantom
Menace toys hadn’t quite reached interstellar heights.
And yet toy tie-ins aren’t just a crude and crass cash-cow that drains a movie
of originality and parents of money, say the apologists. For a start,
Sherski says, they keep the movie franchise alive. “Toys give the
movie-makers longevity,” she says. “Disney was able to keep the energy of
the Pirates franchise going with our toy products.”
And, just think, without toys there might have been no Star Wars prequels.
Furthermore, and most controversially, Becky Ebenkamp of the marketing trade
magazine Brand-week, suggests that these same toys might just be the very
reason why we get to see films such as Broke-back Mountain and Syriana.
“Hollywood studios need to have a movie that’s toy-friendly out there,” she
says. “These movies are the ones that carry the studios for the rest of the
year. That means they carry the smaller films, and the so-called indie films
too.”
In other words, the Transformers water blaster pays for the production of Flags
of Our Fathers.
The future of toy tie-ins, meanwhile, is typically high-tech, non
age-specific, and on the decidedly pricey side. According to Ebenkamp,
high-tech gadgets that are normally pitched to adults have increasing
“play-value” attached to them – for example, phones with inbuilt games.
Meanwhile traditional toys are swiftly becoming high-tech, with smart chips
and interactive functions. Thes result is the possible blurring of the line
between boy toy and desktop talisman. The Japanese electronics company
Nikko, for example, has just released the Star Wars R2D2 Mobile
Entertainment System. This toy, fun for all the family, is a
remote-controlled R2D2 with inbuilt DVD projector, wireless light-sabre
phone and Millennium Falcon remote control. And the price? £1,500. Think
I’ll stick with the Decepticon pencil case myself.
Simpsons toys
Chess Set (£14.99) There’s something about the juxtaposition of
Simpsons and chess, that though zany, doesn’t quite work.
Stretch Homer (£19.79) More like it. Can stretch to three times
its original size. Soon to be on desktops everywhere.
Donut Maker (£19.99) Do we want our kids to become as fat as
Homer?
Lunch Kit (£9.99) Get environmental brownie points in the
playground with this insulated lunch bag.
Harry Potter toys
Dumbledore’s Wand (£29.99) It’s plastic. It comes in its own
box. Biggius Rip-offius?
Pewter Fluffy Statue (£159.99) The giant three-headed dog who
guards the trapdoor to the philosopher’s stone, only this time he’s cast in
pewter and will look good on the mantelpiece. For Rowling completists only.
Hogwarts Express (£14.99) Richly detailed full colour die-cast
model for all boys who love Harry Potter, toy trains and getting their heads
shoved down school toilet bowls.
Transformers toys
Optimus Prime Piggy Bank (£14.99) A bizarrely conscientious
product from a movie that worships at the altar of excess.
Transformers Bumble Bee Alarm Clock (£12.99) “Wake up to the
Transformers theme!” screams the blurb.
Ultimate Bumble Bee (£79.99) It moves on its own. It makes noises.
It costs 80 quid.
Transformers Gauntlet Water Blaster (£24.99) Absolutely nothing to
do with the movie.
Shrek toys
Pencil Case (£5.99) The Shrek people are smart. How can you go
wrong with a pencil case?
Handheld Game (£12.99) No killer visuals, no MP3 options. Just LCD
and the guarantee of peer-based ridicule.
Bug Bounce (£14.99) Like Hungry Hippos, only with Shrek eating
plastic slugs.
10in Crawling Baby (£24.99) Big mistake. Completely scary. Should
be called Crawling Freak Baby. It’s like Trainspotting all over
again.
Im confused by this verbose article, it boldy advances from the premise that toy-tie in's are bad, without saying why. Presumably if people are buying all this plastic then some desideratum is being satisfied.
All vacuous Hollywood films have a natural leaning to be made into toys. Always have. Pecuniary, it enables film makers to offset production costs thereby creating ability to create better effects, attract bigger stars and importantly make films viable.
There are many interesting financial pressures with creating a film (product-placement being amongst them) to focus in purely on one benign aspect is missing the complete interesting financial picture.
If the focus of the article is toys then I suggest nurturing children with finer culture (that do not have toy-ins) and miss out on cinematic Jejune.
Christian Gale, Kingston, Surrey
If I were one of the producers of the Toy Story movies, I would probably be phoning my lawyers right now.
What I thought was going to be a damning review of a much anticipated sequel is notable only for the fact that Toy Story doesn't feature anywhere in the article's enumeration of marketing evils.
Jeremy Hunt, Doha, Qatar