Maybe you did a double take at the title of this post. Most of the material I look at on this blog is, seemingly, light years away from the twee sensibility and corduroy jackets of Wes Anderson, with his quirky perspective and melancholy humor.
Perhaps you’re saying, how can Wes Anderson be here, alongside the angry Dodge Charger guy, the Mike’s Hard Lemonade homophobia, the never-ending light beer commercials with the confused, resentful men, and the parade of men’s grooming products? The answer is in the new Stella Artois commercial that Anderson co-directed with Roman Coppola.
Don’t let the obvious Anderson-isms get in the way. Yes, it’s set in Anderson’s universe, where life exists in wide-angle, with perfect lighting, everyone’s clothes are perfectly slimming, and technology all seems stuck in the 1960s while still somehow appropriate for now. Life in an Anderson project is always accompanied by amazing music, and the general tone is one of romantic despondency. These tropes might annoy you or delight you, but it’s inarguable that they are present.
Given all that, it might be tempting to smile at the whimsy, the retro aesthetic, and the feeling that Bill Murray might pop up in the corner at any moment.
But this is also classic, archetypal manvertising.
It’s fascinating to see it filtered through Anderson’s sensibility, but it’s unquestionably here. It might be loaded up with retro gadgets and hip design, but this is a man cave. It’s breached by a woman, who then fails utterly to operate the technology as soon as the male master of the space leaves (to go to his OTHER man cave, no less). In fact, her ineptitude is so severe that his technology literally makes her disappear.
As soon as he returrns, presumably for a sexual encounter, the punch line is offered: he’s in love with his Stella Artois beer, not her. She was unnecessary all along.
I can’t help but see other manvertising campaigns echoed here, despite all the Andersonian detachment and coolness. First, recall the Smirnoff campaign from a couple years ago where a guy stands at a table at a party operating various gadgets and gizmos. “Think of everything” was the tagline, referring not only to the technologies but also to the brand. Here’s a few spots:
Then there’s the very obvious man cave imagery happening, which continues to be a staple of manvertising. Women’s mere presence, in these sorts of ads, causes anxiety. The entire PURPOSE, after all, of a “man cave” is to keep women out. It’s nothing more than the “boys only” treehouse updated for adults. There are myriad examples of this, but here’s one I haven’t put up before, for Carlton beer.
The entire premise of the man cave is built around the anxiety caused by women. It exists because of their presence. Lest you think Wes Anderson hasn’t hinted around at these themes before, take another look at his films: boys’ clubs populate his narratives, and man caves abound, though they are rarely as explicit as those in beer commercials. In this way his work seems to conform to what David Greven notes about these tensions: men want to be safely with each other and away from women, but still need them to prove their heterosexuality, thus necessitating occasional allowed visits into the male spaces.
Exactly what’s happening in Anderson’s Stella Artois commercial.
Finally, and most importantly, there’s the punch line. Take a look at this Miller Lite commercial, one of many in a campaign with this same theme:
I’ve always found the very premise of these ads to be absurd. The joke is that men love their beer more than their partners? But that’s manvertising: exaggerated sexist humor that displaces all the tension and anxiety simmering under the surface into laughter that can be easily dismissed. In other words, you can’t take it seriously because it’s already so ridiculous.
But it most definitely can be taken seriously. The “me or your beer” theme is really just a variation on the man cave. The beer represents something that’s threatened by women’s presence, an anxiety literalized in the Miller Lite commercial. It’s not just about beer, it’s about some indescribable male “right” to an autonomous masculinity, untouched by the controlling forces of femininity. That Miller Lite commercial is a prototype for why this blog exists at all.
Ultimately, just how different is Anderson’s Stella Artois commercial? It might be dressed up in his trademark imagery, music, and sensibility, but at it’s core it’s really just another beer commercial marketing “autonomy” to men threatened by femininity. Don’t be fooled.
Manvertised has been on (yet another) hiatus for a while now — unintended, of course, and probably due to the ongoing avalanche of various graduate school requirements and such. Yet something’s been eating away at me for these last few months: a new hair salon in town.
It started out with this commercial:
I probably first encountered it as some sort of background noise, scrambling to turn off the annoying “wicked awesome” narrator. Then I actually watched it at some point and saw the sign outside the salon: “Haircuts for Men.” Turns out this Lady Jane’s place is doing more than just manvertising — they’re building their entire corporate structure around a very specific type of masculinity.
What’s in the ad? Let’s break it down:
1. The opening narrative is a trip to the boring old barber that your grandpa probably went to. This is a little bit of a risky move for manvertisers, since a particular political respect has started to sneak back in toward those attitudes. A couple examples include the Miller High Life campaign that glorified the grouchy, sexist old man:
And the amazing Canadian Club whiskey advertising campaign from a few years ago that explicitly said “your Grandpa’s Whiskey” on the packaging. I’ve got the box here somewhere; at some point I’ll photograph it and put it up on the blog.
2. All that boringness is swept aside, though, as the Lady Jane’s Pleasure Palace is revealed. Our guide is the blonde fellow who looks just like one of the boys — our frat brother in this tour of wicked awesome. Indeed, he’s essentially standing IN a frat house, what with the foosball table, televisions, and leather recliners. It’s like we’ve died and gone to Man Cave Heaven, but with haircuts performed by a bevy of young women.
In fact, watch carefully what happens behind him as this bit plays out. To his left (our right), one of the “beautiful stylists” (in a slightly bizarre, somewhat see-through outfit and shortish shorts) comes out and summons a fellow for his haircut. The smile on her face (as on all the stylists behind her) makes clear that these women are ready to serve!
Given the clear association with sports (note the inclusion of the Detroit Lions wall plaque in a shot), I can’t help but be reminded of this controversial 2005 NHL commercial:
Women, in that ad and (it appears) at Lady Jane’s are ready and willing to support men in their quest to prove their masculinity, trimming hair and helping men get dressed.
3. But forget all that! After a quick shot of the haircut, we’re right back to the homosocial bonding in the leather chairs again, replete with football on the television and a bowl of snacks. After one final shot of the ladies (once again happy and ready to serve), it’s all over. Except for that “Haircuts for Men” sign.
Any regular reader of this blog knows that anytime any product is advertised as “for men” my antennae go right up. How can something be “for” men? What does that mean? Does that mean it isn’t “for” women? Why not? What makes it special for men? More importantly, how (inevitably) does it work to reassure anxious hegemonic masculinity? That’s almost always the point, after all, of anything that gender differentiates itself.
When I poked around a bit and found some more ads, and then their website, and then realized this is a company about to go national in a big way, I got even more curious. They’ve got 17 stores now, in Indiana, Michigan, Illinois, and Ohio, and I’d predict that number is going to grow. Why? Because they seem to have tapped into the same cultural fantasies that have governed the marketing of everything from Combos snacks to light beer to soap to garden equipment to trucks to pants and everything in between. The fantasy of the acceptance of regressive masculinity.
Here’s another ad:
This one ups the stakes: underwear pillow fights are NOT for men; haircuts from “the most beautiful women ever” ARE for men. (I find the irony of filming men in their underwear having a pillow fight, and thus proving that, yes, that behavior is for men, absolutely delicious.) But it goes further: Are you man enough? the commercial asks. Man enough for what? Man enough to prove that you are worthy of entering the salon?
What’s really happening there, I think, is some serious homophobia. Hair care, and hair salons, are often associated with gay men, and I’ve written here time and again about the need in manvertising to bolster heteronormative attitudes by differentiating straight men from homosexuality by “proving” masculinity through consumption. What Lady Jane’s is doing with all these frat house aesthetics, is creating a “safe space” for straight men to feel at home. The presence of docile, domesticated women hammers that point home, and emphasizing (over and over again) how beautiful they are, the ads really make clear just how unmistakably hetero everything is.
This final ad really hammers the point home:
The corporate website further soothes the sexual anxiety swirling at the heart of men’s grooming. The incessant references to the aesthetics, the sports, even the Craftsman toolboxes that hold the stylists’ tools all speak to the justifications the business uses to reinforce the attention paid to male bodies. I must give founder/owner Chad Johnson some (backhanded) credit: he has tapped into the same widespread tension that circulates under widespread consumer culture in this moment, a tension rooted in the fear of being too feminine through consumption. There’s no better way to “prove” masculinity than to simultaneously “prove” heterosexuality. What he’s done is build a literal space where a necessary service (haircuts) can be carried out while also reinforcing the fantasy of a bygone masculinity. But… as is the typical conclusion to this chain of events… the corporation is also (hilariously) queer in a sense. By overdoing everything, right down to that annoying “wicked awesome” tagline, it’s as if the hetero anxiety has been ratcheted up to hysterical levels. It’s practically spoofing itself, and all I can really do is laugh.
On a related note, I want to stress that I’m not against efforts to make more and different kinds of salons. What I’d really like to see Johnson do is craft a space where people can feel comfortable and secure about what can often be a traumatic experience. In a culture where people obsessively judge others about their appearance, grooming (especially for men who are intimidated by the process) can be deeply intimidating. What DOESN’T need to happen in that process is the misogyny and homophobia that Lady Jane’s circulates endlessly. Perhaps Johnson could take a cue from Birds Barbershop in Austin, Texas, which is also “wicked awesome” in a much more positive way. Birds also stresses a “party atmosphere,” and offers low-stress and affordable styles, and an experienced and helpful staff to assist with the process.
There’s a foosball table, televisions, great music, wall murals, magazines, and all the other trappings, but none of the anxious masculinity. Beautiful male and female stylists work on customers, and everyone is friendly. The free Lone Star beer helps, too. Point is, what Birds offers is something that Johnson can’t ever achieve at Lady Jane’s because what he’s selling isn’t really a haircut — it’s a tonic for an anxiety that can’t be cured.
Mike’s Hard Lemonade has built their brand on manvertising tactics, but their latest campaign solidifies that partnership with a venture into new, but totally predictable, territory.
