Generally speaking, Donald Trump's penchant for excess is a good thing. It's so over-the-top - the bottled water, the fragrance, the cuff links, Trump University - it's just a wonderful source of
laughter. Each time, he announces a new Trump-branded venture, there's new material for quips around the water cooler and Leno, Letterman and the like give thanks.
But the real estate mogul cum
university chairman cum perfume tycoon has allowed his overindulgent ways to go too far on "The Apprentice." The reality show is overrun by product placements, a trend likely to turn off viewers and
lessen the impact for marketers - if it hasn't already.
How appealing the first season of "The Apprentice" now seems. Back then, teams took to the streets of New York to compete to sell the most
lemonade or rickshaw rides. Now, every episode finds them scheming to peddle corporate America's newest offerings, from Gillette's Fusion razor to Grape Nuts Trail Mix to 7-Eleven's P'EatZZa. On April
3, the challenge was to develop the best jingle for Arby's new Chicken Naturals (evaluated and ranked via research firm iTVX as one of the five most effective product placements last week).
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Product placement works best when it's unexpected and when it materializes in a scene unobtrusively. That way it catches the viewer's attention with a surprise element.
"The Apprentice" takes the
absolute opposite approach. Viewers now know the first portion of the show will function as a continuing billboard for a cereal, a credit card or something else a Fortune 500 is looking to plug. They
know logos and signs and product shots will be everywhere, and that the brands will form a practically ubiquitous backdrop.
They may even know which brands are coming their way. Companies who've
paid for the exposure now put out press releases beforehand announcing their upcoming appearance. Norwegian Cruise Lines, 7-Eleven and Arby's all told the media they were eager to find out what the
"Apprentice" contestants would come up with to boost their marketing.
In this day and age, where people are bombarded with advertising messages and fighting back aggressively with their TiVos, it
seems risky to always begin a show with lengthy product integration. If viewers know advertising is coming within their programming - and exactly when -- they may opt to just tune out.
The
Chicago Tribune says Trump's show "routinely doubles as an infomercial." There's a reason infomercials often run after 2 AM.
Whether it's a backlash against the overt marketing or another
culprit, ratings for "The Apprentice" are fading, having dropped 18 percent this season versus last fall. And recently, the most buzz the show has received came when Trump blamed Martha Stewart's
disastrous "Apprentice" spin-off for his own ratings stumbles.
Besides lacking subtlety with product placement, "The Apprentice" often fails marketers by executing it poorly. In addition to the
onslaught of logos and other brand IDs, much of the brand integration revolves around Trump acting as a shameless pitchman for the products. But his effusive praise for discount retailers, moderately
priced SUVs and other products not sold on Fifth Avenue has credibility similar to Justin Timberlake's explanation of what happened during that infamous Super Bowl halftime show.
"Great
sandwiches," Trump says about Arby's. And later: "Personally I prefer Arby's." Where exactly does he get his Beef 'n Cheddar? The closest Arby's to Trump Tower is Jersey City. Maybe he sneaks away
from Mar-a-Lago for a fix.
Trump's disingenuousness is further evident when he introduces executives appearing on the show from companies whose products are featured. In one sentence, he's
gushing about their leadership; in the next, he appears to have no idea who they are, asking them to introduce themselves as he did with Arby's CEO Doug Benham and CMO Debbie Pike. He should deign to
remember their names. After all, they've just ponied up millions to get their brands on the show. And it makes for bad television.
Also bad television: "The Apprentice" needs to retire the
gig where a contestant gets fired for showing up late for a meeting with company executives. That happened again in the Arby's episode. It's occurred so many times in the show's five seasons, it's
clear NBC maneuvers to make the contestants late for dramatic effect. Trouble is, it's just not that dramatic.
The Arby's appearance on the show wasn't completely unappetizing. The jingles the
two teams came up with had nice rings to them (so much so the cameras picked up Trump dancing along, though he's stiffer than Al Gore). The question is whether the catchy tunes were able to cut
through the clutter - clutter created by Arby's itself with its abundance of brand messages throughout the show.