Every angle tells a piece of its story

Stumbled across this cool quote from Vicki Karp on True/Slant, which is “an original content news network tailored to both the ‘Entrepreneurial Journalist’ and marketers who want a more effective way to engage with digital audiences,” currently in Beta.

Anyway, the quote:

Best thing ever said to me by a sculptor  — walk around it, look up and down and through it; every angle tells a piece of its story.

Vicki’s piece points toward a clip on the Smithsonian Channel website, Walking Among Stars, which is part of The Sculpture Diaries, a series of stories about sculptures.

Oh, and the Smithsonian Channel’s tagline?

Telling America’s Stories

:: Posted by Eric Ratinoff ::

A story geek's dream

I am so geeked.

While doing a bit of procrastinating this morning on ESPN.com, I wandered into the Sports Guy’s World — always a great place to get lost, and a dangerous place to go if you have something you need to get done — and the headline “The Sports Guy on 30 for 30” caught my eye, so I clicked.

What I found was the Sports Guy, Bill Simmons, telling the story behind the development of a new series of 30 sports documentaries that will air on ESPN starting October 6th to celebrate the network’s 30 years. It is the story of how an idea that “started out as a one-paragraph email in 2007” evolved into a project that has brought together “the greatest collection of filmmakers ever assembled under the same umbrella.”

In 30 for 30, ESPN picked some of the most interesting stories in sports of the last 30 years — not the biggest stories, not the most obvious stories — and found 30 talented filmmakers to tell them. Well, that’s not exactly accurate. As Simmons explains:

We hoped to land a few respected names early for a “domino effect” of sort and only needed two or three names. Everyone else would get a sniff and want to be involved. That’s what we thought. We all started going out on meet and greets, and that’s when something crazy happened, something we never anticipated: these people had been waiting for us. They had stories to tell. They just never thought they’d have a chance to tell them.

And so, starting next month, ESPN is going to become a conduit for great storytelling. They’re going to let Barry Levinson, director of Diner, Avalon, Good Morning Vietnam, and The Natural, tell the story of the Baltimore Colts Marching Band — which kept marching for 12 years after the Colts left Baltimore.

They’re going to let Albert Maysles, director of Gimme Shelter and Grey Gardens, tell the story of Larry Holmes’ 1980 defeat of Muhammad Ali, featuring footage that Maysles shot in the weeks leading up to the fight, but that hasn’t been seen for nearly 30 years because people thought the fight was too depressing.

They’re going to let Mike Tollin, director of Varsity Blues and Coach Carter, tell the story about the rise and fall of the USFL. They’re going to let Peter Berg, the director of Friday Night Lights, The Kingdom, and Hancock, tell the story of the epic 1988 trade that sent Wayne Gretzky to Los Angeles.

And that’s just in the first 4 weeks.

It’s tempting to ghettoize these as sports stories; after all they’re stories about sports. But these aren’t stories about who won or who lost — they’re stories about the people who played the games, about their frailties, tragedies, courage, and pain.

It’s clear from the trailers alone that these are stories that will connect with us on an emotional level, that will make us appreciate what those people did on the field more than any record or scoreboard ever could, and that will give us new lenses with which to think about ourselves and the struggles and opportunities we face.

In short, they will do what all great stories do — they will help us see and understand the world, and ourselves, more clearly, and with more compassion. And they will do it in a way that sticks with us, and that makes us want to pass them on.

I can’t wait for October 6.

:: Posted by Eric Ratinoff ::

Walgreens flips the script on flu shots

I don’t like shots, and I’m generally healthy, so I have never seen a need for a flu shot. I suspect I’m exactly the kind of person Walgreens is targeting with this poster, which I spied in the waiting room of the Walgreens pharmacy:

The poster banks on the understanding that while many people don’t take good care of themselves — and like me, can probably convince themselves pretty easily that they don’t need a flu shot — they do want to take care of the people who are important to them.

And so, the poster changes your association with a flu shot: instead of it being about a needle and 25 bucks, it’s about doing something for others. That’s a pretty nifty flip.

:: Posted by Eric Ratinoff ::

Dude, it matters everywhere

So Ben sends me an email:

Subject: amctv.com

Their new tagline is “Story Matters Here”

I email him back:

Dude, it matters everywhere.

He emails me back:

Sounds like a blog post to me.

:: Posted by Eric Ratinoff ::

When CITIZEN KANE was simply Citizen Kane

Was Citizen Kane always CITIZEN KANE?

Because we tend to look at the pillars of modern culture — the music, paintings, and films we exhalt as “classics” — through our present-day lens, we often assume the mythology surrounding them was a foregone conclusion, that they were widely acknowledged as classics from the start. But all classics were once notions sketched on napkins, single notes plucked on guitars, or screen tests long buried in a vault somewhere.

Which is to say, there was a time, long ago, when Citizen Kane wasn’t CITIZEN KANE.

That’s not to say it was just another movie — it won an Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay and was a critic’s favorite for many of its technical merits. But the mythology we now assign to Citizen Kane (which, as Eric points out, has become something of a burden) didn’t really evolve until years after the film had been released.

When Citizen Kane came out in 1941, it faced two major obstacles to its success: a little conflict we like to call World War II, and William Randolph Hearst and his Hearst media machine. The film actually disappeared quite quickly from theaters after its release. (Hearst, the factual basis for the fictitious Charles Foster Kane, was not exactly pleased with the depiction.)

It wasn’t until a number of French filmmakers and critics, such as Andre Bazin, began discussing the film and elevating its artistry, that post-WWII European audiences began to take notice. The film’s reputation began to snowball, and by the late 1940s and early 1950s it was already being described as the greatest film ever made.

Many of us never knew a time when Citizen Kane wasn’t considered great — and the intimidating benchmark for ambitious, cinematic achievement. But there was a moment in history when it was just a movie, not a film — when it was just Citizen Kane, not CITIZEN KANE.

To me, that seems worth remembering. Mythology, like any part of a story’s DNA, is fluid, always changing and growing to incorporate new experiences and create new associations with an audience that’s ever-evolving. So if you don’t like the mythology your story has today, you aren’t stuck with it. But you do need to figure out how to change it.

:: Posted by Ben Kaplan ::

The downside of mythology: trying to live up to your own hype

Does Citizen Kane suck? That’s the question my old friend Chad Schneider at movingstillpix asked, prompted by friends of his who had been telling him lately that the film classic was boring.

After watching it again for the first time in a decade, Chad concluded it definitely did not suck. In fact, he says …

IT’S TERRIFIC!  It even says so on the movie poster.

So, what’s the deal?  Why do some of my friends who ordinarily can tell good from bad have little love for Kane?  Is it the occasionally over-stylized acting?  Maybe.  Black and White?  No way, they’re better than that. Unattainably high expectations created by lists like the AFI’s 100 Greatest Movies along with an incredible mythology/history rooted in outrageous facts and fictions?  Bingo!

In the case of Citizen Kane, which came out in 1941, the mythology is the reason most people under the age of 50 even know about it at all. But that mythology is almost impossible to live up to, and unless you’re able to block it out, there’s a pretty good chance it will impact your experience of actually watching the movie.

:: Posted by Eric Ratinoff ::

How to bake the story in from the start

Chris Brogan had an interesting post yesterday in which he outlined a few ideas for what his ideal hotel would be like. He’s not interested in the hotel being fancy as much as he is in having a customized hotel experience — in other words, developing a relationship with a particular hotel so that they know who he is, that he likes thick down pillows and the room set at 70 degrees, and having those things already set up for him when he checks in.

As he says, “This is so easy, and yet, we’re doing hotels as if it’s 100 years ago.” Unless you’re willing to pay Ritz-Carlton prices, in which case you get treated like royalty.

But should you have to pay those kinds of prices to get treated like royalty, when the cost of keeping preference data on guests is now so low?

Imagine a new hotel chain, designed for those of us not on Ritz-Carlton budgets, that did give you the opportunity to personalize your experience like this. The options they give you could be as banal as pillow preference, or as interesting as leaving a selection of books on the nightstand that you’ve expressed an interest in, with the book “billed to your card if not in the room at checkout.”

Though there are undoubtedly costs of building such a system, and putting in that extra effort, they would be investments in developing the story of the hotel chain and cultivating advocates. It’s not hard to imagine satisfied guests sharing stories of their experience with friends and fellow travelers. It’s also not hard to imagine guests willing to commit their loyalty to one hotel chain, rather than making their lodging decisions based on location or the cheapest rate.

And as Brogan suggests, “I would skip Priceline if everywhere I traveled, I was guaranteed a room at a consistent rate range that I agreed upon. This means I’d give the money directly to the hotel.”

Though building this idea into the business plan of a new hotel would bake the story in from the start, any existing hotel chain could adopt the idea now, and begin the process of changing their story.

On the surface, this seems like a conversation about customer service, but at its core it’s a conversation about story: about creating an experience worth talking about, and developing relationships that lead to advocacy.

And it’s not a conversation that’s limited to the hotel industry.

:: Posted by Eric Ratinoff ::

Harley Davidson: Every rider has a story

I’ve never been a fan of motorcycles. This antipathy no doubt traces back to my traumatic first motorcycle experience, in which my parents’ crazy friend Steve (who has since legally changed his name to Stephon — seriously) rode over to our house and parked his motorcycle in our driveway. I was 2 or 3 at the time, so all I knew about motorcycles was that the tailpipe was shiny, and that I liked shiny things. I wanted to touch it. What I didn’t know was that the shiny tailpipe of a motorcycle that has just been riding is hot. Very hot.

I spent the rest of the evening holding ice cubes and crying.

Even now, I’ve got a beef with bikes — specifically those that insist on riding unmuffled. Now that it’s summertime, it seems like you can’t enjoy a nice meal at an outdoor table, or even watch TV with the windows open, without enduring the reverberating belch of somebody’s hog rumbling by.

Nevertheless, I do like what Harley Davidson is up to: they’re encouraging 100,000 women to learn to ride, and they’re encouraging them through storytelling.

A while back I spotted this banner ad:

It led me to Harley’s Women Riders Riding Stories page, where users have submitted “Why I Ride My Harley,” “How I Learned to Ride,” and “Why I Want to Learn” stories.

Several of the rider stories were interesting, but I found this Why I Ride My Harley one especially powerful:

I am an incest and physical abuse suvivor that most people thought would not see the age of 7, yet here I am, 65. My wonderful husband of 46 years has always allowed me to be his rider while encouraging me to ride on my own. I was always too afraid. My background left me with little self esteem or confidence. But with this birthday I decided that now is the time for me to declare myself a winner and taste the freedom that only a Harley Davidson provides. So meet my new Tri Glide. It was so easy to learn to ride I feel silly for being so fearful. I love everything about my life now and my HD is a big part of it. I ride along with my husband and his Ultra Classic wherever the wind blows us. Sisters, nothing can stop you. It is only life if you live it and they only win if you let them. Just believe and climb on that Harley and when you see me on the road wave and look at the big smile on my face. Ride on and live your best life……….

Though all the stories are technically about motorcycles, read through a few of the submissions and you quickly realize that the larger story Harley is telling isn’t about motorcycles at all. It’s a story about freedom, self-esteem, and empowerment.

If you seek those things, and you read enough of these stories, maybe you start wondering about what it would feel like to ride a Harley yourself — and you forget how obnoxiously loud they are.

Or how hot that tailpipe is.

:: Posted by Eric Ratinoff ::

An issue in need of a story: drivers on the phone

The New York Times’ Room for Debate blog has been looking at the issue of drivers talking (or texting) on their phones, asking, “Should Cellphone Use by Drivers Be Illegal?” and examining “What to Do With Drivers on the Phone.” They’ve also run two disconcerting stories on the topic this week, “Drivers and Legislators Dismiss Cellphone Risks” and “U.S. Withheld Data on Risks of Distracted Driving.”

The articles and blog discussion are worth reading, but the gist is this:

• The research on distracted driving is clear: it’s hazardous. The line that most caught my eye came from the “Drivers and Legislators” article: “Studies say that drivers using phones are four times as likely to cause a crash as other drivers, and the likelihood that they will crash is equal to that of someone with a .08 percent blood alcohol level, the point at which drivers are generally considered intoxicated.”
• Despite this evidence, and the fact that 48 percent of respondents in a national poll felt that “Using technology like a cellphone” is the “most dangerous distraction for people while driving,” and 81% of respondents said they had talked on their cellphone while driving, 98% (!) consider themselves to be safe drivers.
• Legislation on the issue has been raised, defeated, and/or passed in a number of states, but there is no agreement about what laws should be in place (if any), even though there does seem to be agreement that cellphone use causes a statistically significant number of traffic accidents annually. (One study estimated 2,600 deaths and 330,000 accidents that result in moderate or severe injuries each year.)

So what to do? The What to Do With Drivers on the Phone discussion
includes several possible options, beyond the obvious legal ones:

• Raise insurance premiums
• Jam cellphone circuitry in the car
• Re-envision road design
• Make driving while on the phone a licensed activity

All of these hold some potential, but none sounds like a real solution, for two major reasons.

One, we all think we’re better drivers than everybody else. It’s all those other idiots who drive like morons when they’re talking on the phone, not us. (Fill in your own “everybody’s a better-than-average driver” joke here.)

Two, we’re addicted to our phones — literally. The “Drivers and Legislators” article again:

John Ratey, an associate professor of psychiatry at Harvard University and a specialist on the science of attention, explained that when people use digital devices, they get a quick burst of adrenaline, “a dopamine squirt.” Without it, people grow bored with simpler activities like driving. Mr. Ratey said the modern brain is being rewired to crave stimulation, a condition he calls acquired attention deficit disorder.

Good news, huh? We’re addicted and delusional.

But there is another solution: storytelling.

In 1980, Mothers Against Drunk Driving was founded by a mother whose daughter was killed by a repeat drunk driving offender. Since then, according to statistics on the MADD website, “alcohol-related traffic fatalities have decreased nearly 50 percent, from over 30,000 to under 15,500 and MADD has helped save over 383,000 lives.”

MADD has been active in pursuing legislation, which has no doubt had an impact. But where MADD really made its impact was with awareness. In 1983, sparked by MADD’s efforts, the Ad Council and the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration launched the Drunk Driving Prevention campaign, and in 1990 they introduced the tagline “Friends don’t let friends drive drunk,” which quickly became a ubiquitous catchphrase. They used individual stories, including the “Innocent Victims” public service announcements, to put a face on the issue.

Sure, laws were needed. Yes, plenty of drunk assholes still think they can drive, and do. But MADD and the NHTSA changed the story people told themselves about drunk driving.

We need a similar campaign for driving while dialing. Other elements — legislation, insurance premiums, technology — can help. But those all appeal to reason, and if appealing to reason was enough to change behavior, then the statistics alone would be enough. Clearly, they’re not.

To change the story people tell themselves about talking while driving — in the same way that MADD and the Ad Council and the NHTSA changed the the story people told themselves about drunk driving — we need to appeal to emotion. We need to change the association people have so that as soon as someone driving hears the phone ring, the immediate thought is not, “I have to answer that,” but, “I’ll let it go to voicemail.”

The way to change that association is with better storytelling.

The statistics and the facts in the articles linked above are scary. But one of the most memorable and persuasive things you’ll read in those articles is the story of Christopher Hill, a 20-year-old driver with a perfect driving record who was on the phone when he ran through a red light he never saw — and didn’t notice Linda Doyle’s oncoming SUV until the last second. “He hit her going 45 miles per hour. She was pronounced dead shortly after.”

That story leads off the article. All the facts and research and statistics come later. Why? Because journalists know the power of stories to pull you in and grab your interest. Once you’re engaged, the data works to reinforce what the story has set up — but if there’s no story to establish a foundation of interest, data is just a bunch of numbers, which most people will tune out.

Sadly, there are thousands of stories like that one. We need to leverage the power of those individual stories to change the story people tell themselves the next time they reach for their phone in the car.

Anybody know somebody we could talk to at the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration?

:: Posted by Eric Ratinoff ::

Short attention spans? Not so fast

A piece in the July 5 New York Times entitled “Rise of Web Video, Beyond 2-Minute Clips,” comments on the increase in length of the average online video — a trend the article suggests is driven by both improved technology (faster speeds online), which increases people’s tolerance for longer pieces, and our habituation to longer pieces cultivated by people watching full TV episodes online, via Hulu and network sites.

Of course, another key component empowering our longer attention spans is an increase of quality work available for watching. Said Rob Barnett, the founder of the video distribution site My Damn Channel, “I think it comes down to quality winning out over minutes and seconds.”

In short, the storytelling is superseding the stopwatch. “If there’s good storytelling and good production values, people are willing to engage with the content,” said Eric Berger, a senior vice president of Crackle, the Sony video site.

As online video matures, it seems, the stories will once again be the story.

:: Posted by Eric Ratinoff ::