|
|
|
What They Get Is What They See
|
|
Being creative types under the professional skin, editors often tend to possess quirks,
predelictions, penchants, inclinations — whatever you choose to call them. It’s part of our nature. One of my many mini-obsessions is an affinity for silent films, particularly those of Lon Chaney Sr. I like movies in general, including other silents, but there’s something about Chaney’s mastery of pantomime, not to mention creating some of film’s most memorable characters out of a make-up kit no bigger than a tackle box, that makes him mesmerizing. He was the first actor of that handful who become rather than play a character, and the only one to do so without benefit of sound. A caring person, my girlfriend is fairly tolerant about this, to the point of not minding when the mood to watch a film or two hits me — provided she can do other stuff and not have to sit there spellbound. But recently, for some reason, she chose to join me about 20 minutes into Shadows, where Lon plays Yen Sin, a Chinese laundryman, in a fascinating performance. After she watched five minutes, the conversation (easy to have during silents) went like this (she’s in italics): “So where’s your boy?” “Right there.” “Ha-ha. He didn’t show up yet?” “He’s right there.” “C’mon, I’m serious. Where is he?” “That’s him.” “Yeah, OK. You’re not funny.” “I’m not trying to be. That’s him. Really.” “Bull. That’s an Asian guy.” “No, it’s not.” “You need to stop. Look at him. That guy’s definitely Asian.” “I’m tellin’ ya, he’s not. It’s Lon Chaney.” “Nope; no way.” I finally had to rewind to prove the “Asian guy” truly was Chaney. It wasn’t only his make-up (which was amazing); it was how he moved, his facial nuances, his mannerisms. For all intents and purposes, he was Chinese for those seven reels. And the performance is still convincing, 81 years after the fact. In Shadows, to borrow a term from politics — Perception becomes reality. Why’d I tell this story? Another quirk; it got me thinking about one of the cornerstones of why promotional products are effective marketing tools, and something we’ve shouted countless times from these pages: high perceived value. Translation: It doesn’t matter what something actually costs; if a recipient sees it as a valuable item, then it is. Perception becomes reality. In turn, those good feelings splash onto the organization whose name or logo just may happen to be on the product in question. Simple concept, isn’t it? In this issue, one of our articles deals with watches, a near-perfect example of high perceived value. Your counselor can show you all kinds of stylish, great-looking watches for prices far less than you’d think, but that look like they cost far more. When one of your clients gets one subtly bearing your logo somewhere, the perception is that you thought enough of him to buy him this gift. It’s something he can use, which in turn makes it “worth” something. Perception becomes reality. But does the process only work with higher-end items or products that look expensive? Absolutely not. Lon Chaney wasn’t Asian, but when you see Shadows (or Mr. Wu, or Outside the Law), he is, thanks to the power of his presentation. By presenting the right product in such a way that the recipient considers it valuable, it is. And it doesn’t only work with straight-out gifts. We also discuss developing safety programs, and how logoed products can be an integral part of them as incentives. Why are some programs an unparalleled success? Part of the reason is wanting to be safe, sure, but another is the desire to get one or more of those incentive products, because employees see them as valuable. Your counselor can tell – and show — you much, much more about high-perceived value. Way more than we can in a few pages. But once he does, be forewarned; you might perceive him as invaluable to helping your business become a success. And, as we all know by now, perception becomes reality. Thanks for reading. Arn Bernstein abernstein@asicentral.com |
