For today's post (Oct 28th, 2015), we're honored to share insights from a busy entertainment copywriter.  Ron Geiger is a writer and branding specialist with over 17 years experience giving voice to the biggest brands in entertainment.  He has contributed to campaigns for over 100 movies, over 100 TV shows and over 70 TV networks.  His clients have included Universal Studios, 20th Century Fox, Time Warner, Dreamworks, The Weinstein Company, Netflix, YouTube, DIRECTV, ABC, CBS, FX and USA.  Clients outside the entertainment industry have included Target, Mattel, Toyota, Lexus, Canon, Intel and King James Beats.  Ron’s work also appeared on giant screens at the National Mall in Washington D.C. during the historic inauguration of Barack Obama.  As a friend of our project, we thought he might enjoy the challenge of writing more than a few perfect words at a time.   You can find him on Twitter: @rongeiger
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​I sell entertaining experiences. 
 
Laugh-out-loud.  Edge-of-your-seat.  Heart-warming.  Even news-worthy.  We still call them movies and TV shows for now, but more and more of the content I sell can be experienced on any screen.  That’s why movie studios and TV networks are starting to call themselves “content platforms.”  It’s a pretty dry term, but definitions in the Age of Netflix and YouTube are very much in flux.
 
My official job title is freelance copywriter, and I’ve worked on hundreds of advertising campaigns for different kinds of “content.”  (See why I call them “experiences”?)   There’s a whole industry of entertainment branding and promotion companies competing to capture your attention.  So every time you see a trailer or ad, you’re seeing the “winner” of many creative battles, for better or worse.  
 

Anywhere is possible.
 
This is one of mine.  A single line that made it through the marketing bureaucracy gauntlet to lead the campaign for Jumper, a sci-fi movie put out by 20th Century Fox a few years ago.  It has an aspirational, almost dream-like quality that fits well with the movie’s concept, but it’s also a spin on a cliché (“anything is possible”), so it has some built-in potential to stay with you.  This is the kind of gold I pan for.  Something that sticks, because it speaks to you on an emotional level.  But make no mistake, it all starts from a very rational place.
 
 
The Position
 
By the time I come on board, a marketing team inside the studio/network/content platform has already made some key choices about how to brand their property.  
 
How are we positioning it?  That is, how do set this apart from the other entertainment options in the marketplace.  Is it the most intense action thriller of the summer?  Or an action adventure with a shocking twist?  Are the stars big enough to headline the campaign?  Or is the story the star?  Is the concept so clever and catchy that it sells itself?   What themes are we avoiding?  Who’s the target audience? 
 
That last one is the key for me.  I have to know who I’m speaking to before I know what to say.
 
For studio movies, the target audience is usually pretty broad.  They give me traditional demographic info like “Adults 18-44.  Male skew.  Fans of ______ genre.”  For TV shows, demographics are just the beginning.  Audiences are often grouped by shared behaviors and attitudes which they call “psychographics”.  Like “Pop Culture Aficionados” or “Adventure Addicts.”  
 
Once I can picture the audience, I can start to experiment with language and concepts, looking for the best new ways to introduce them to this new experience. 
 
The process starts the same for trailers, commercials, print ads, billboards, packaging copy, you name it.  Then, the specific needs of the media determine what comes next. 
 
 
Trailer Structure
 
My favorite way to structure a trailer has three parts.  I’ve never really given these parts a name, but you’re my target audience now, so I imagine that what I say will have more sticking power if I chose something more clever than 1-2-3.  How about...
 
The Hook.  The Jam.  The Tease.
 
 
The Hook
 
The first moments of a trailer are crucial.  The movie has to feel new to get your attention, but not too new.  We’re trying to grab you, but also ground you in a genre.  It’s okay to laugh.  It’s the perfect time to scream.  
 
We only have a couple of minutes here, so the trailer needs to form a bond between you and the lead character(s).  Fast!  That’s why stars and genres are so effective.  They’re shortcuts to familiarity.  Heuristics.  Ten seconds of Tom Cruise doing Tom Cruise things and your mind has enough information to set some emotional expectations.  You see Tom Cruise performing a crazy, new stunt and you’re not only promised excitement, but also safety.  You and Tom go way back, and the genre of his story goes back even further.  So now you’re ready to let down your guard – and that’s when the fun begins.
 
 
The Jam
 
There’s no faster way to your heart – my heart, every heart – than danger.  Someone fascinating is about to face the challenge of a lifetime.  A forbidden love.  A ruthless villain.  You know the drill. 
 
The narrative shorthand that has evolved over tens of thousands of years of storytelling comes in pretty handy when time is so limited.   But this is isn’t the first time your mind has been down the path of forbidden love.  After The Hook has grabbed your attention, the accountant in your head starts checking off allowable plot points as they roll out.  “Okay...  Okay...  Nope, not buying that.”  Uh-oh... we’re in trouble.  Quick – blow something up!
 
To prevent your mind from getting stuck on a detail, trailers include the least amount of information possible.  We need just enough for your mind to check the “That’s different, but not too different” box.  (Unless of course, you belong to the “Novelty Seeker” psychographic, then strange is job one.)
 
We may only be a minute into this trailer and you’re already unplugging from your life and plugging into his/hers... and now you’re in a Jam!   This is the “How the hell am I ever going to make it out alive?!” box.  For this isn’t really a Tom Cruise movie, it’s a you movie.  Remember, I’m selling you an experience.  And even if the experience doesn’t rise to the operatic level of action movies, the funny/romantic/inspirational life that you’re joining has to be threatened enough to get you emotionally engaged. 
 
 
The Tease
 
The whole point of the trailer is to build you up, then leave you hanging.  Will Tom Cruise make it out alive?  Will Romeo and Juliet live happily ever after? 
 
I really wish I could tell you... but you’ll just have to see for yourself.   
 
Of course, there’s this big Tease happening on screen now that’s dismissed the accountant in your head and put your heart in charge.  You’re seeing brief snippets of all the best scenes in the movie getting faster and faster and more dangerous for Tom.  The sheer kinetic energy of the quick cuts is designed to leave you breathless, but if it’s not done right, then it will leave your mind as soon it leaves the screen.  The very definition of smoke and mirrors.
 
Successful trailers leave you with a lingering desire for more, because the experience echoes with your own desires.  “I knew it... anywhere is possible!”  While the “Shock Hunter” psychographic may want new for new sake, the rest of us are actually looking for entertainment that fits within our own worldview.  The job of the trailer is to show how this movie will take you to that corner of your world that you haven’t experienced – without really asking you to risk anything.  It’s just play, right?
 
So, is my job simply to pander to the target audience?  Or am I really trying to reflect something meaningful about them back to them?
 
Are trailers just confirmation bias on cinematic steroids?  Or is each attempting to add something new to a larger dialogue between the people who create motion pictures and the people who experience them?
 
I really wish I could tell you... but you’ll just to see for yourself.
 

This fortnight, Watching the Trailer is proud to present, Dr Leora Hadas, University of Nottingham, welcome Dr Hadas, thanks for contributing! 
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​On August 19th, 2013, J. J. Abrams and Bad Robot Productions sent a ripple of curiosity and rumour through the internet with the release of a minute-long video entitled “Stranger”. While the video was referred to as a trailer, it did not offer any hints as for what it was a trailer for – a new film, television show, or an existing Bad Robot project. It was only on September 9th, along with the release of a follow-up 1:45 minute video, that “Stranger” was revealed as a trailer for, of all things, a book – S., billed as “From J. J. Abrams, written by Doug Dorst”. 
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It would be difficult to call the S. trailers unusual, considering that, as this blog has previously discussed there is really no “usual” when it comes to book trailers. But they are unusually cryptic, which is as par course for Bad Robot and Abrams. In fact, as far as I am aware, the S. trailers were the first to use specifically the trailer, or trailer-like form (as opposed to something like an ARG or website) in advertising a media product without any indication of its medium.  Coming as I do from the background of researching media authorship, I found it particularly interesting that 
this came from J. J. Abrams, who continues to be renowned for his work in multiple media. I would, in fact, argue that part of the function of creating the trailers for S. was the establishment of Abrams’ author brand in the new medium of the book.
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​Chief of those is the suggestion of a conspiracy, for example in the narration telling the viewer that “men are erased” and that “it’s all true, everything he wrote”, as well as in the evocation of a mysterious “they” who are “coming”.  The appearance of suited men with flashlights implies those men as the classic Men in Black of conspiracy fiction, while the horror elements – the man with his mouth sewn shut, the traces of bloodied fingerprints – establish the association with the supernatural and with forbidden knowledge, all of which align S. with similar themes and storytelling style in Bad Robot productions Alias, Lost, and Fringe. The audience address of the narration, and the calling of attention to the medium suggest a connection with previous Abrams trailers for Super 8 and Cloverfield. Such recurring stylistic and thematic elements are highlighted not only to link the works of the author together, but to create an overall brand that exists beyond the oeuvre, into an overall philosophy and identity that Abrams continues to construct in non-specific publicity, such as his TED talk.

I would in fact suggest that the S. trailers have a further function regarding authorship. S. is Abrams’ first foray into literature – a medium that was, in effect, the birthplace of Romantic ideas of authorship. Romantic auteurism is a legitimating discourse, one which was utilized to create the idea of film, and later television, as an art form.2 In assuming the mantle of author in its more traditional literary sense, Abrams is taking something of a risk, particularly since he did not himself write S. “From J. J. Abrams, written by Doug Dorst” is a popular sell in spin-off or tie-in media; not so much in original literature. The trailers for S. act to establish the possibility of Abrams as a literary author. They adapt the tropes of the “mystery box” creative signature to the medium, and create a kind of alignment between the mysterious author character in the book itself, and Abrams himself as a mysterious author. The use of blank and scattered pages, the clicking of the typewriter, and a Plato quote to create the sense of mystery and horror, and the focus on the book as a physical “mystery box”, effectively speak to Abrams’ ability to work in the new medium and bring in his creative signature. The trailer thus serves a dual purpose. The presence of books, writing, and the mystery author in the trailer act to give the audience some clues regarding its themes and content, yet this choice of focus, which elements to reveal and which to obscure, also work to frame and mediate Abrams’ authorship.

The trailer’s final tagline, “the book is just the beginning”, invites audiences to make the link between S. and Abrams’ broader transmedia brand, reminding us that the S. trailers are not book trailers as such. The immediate media product advertised may be a book, yet the Abrams/Bad Robot connection brings the trailer in itself into its own space, as an act of showmanship and active blurring of boundaries between media. The studio and author are not simply advertising a product, but making a statement of their media omnipresence. In considering the book trailer as an evolving form, and the role of trailers in establishing promotional authorship, the S. trailers serve as an excellent milestone. 
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1 “J. J. Abrams: The Mystery Box,” TED Talks video, 18:02, posted by “TED2007,” January 2008, http://www.ted.com/talks/j_j_abrams_mystery_box.html.  

2 See Shyon Baumann, “Intellectualization and Art World Development: Film in the United States,” American Sociological Review 66(3) (2001), and Michael Z. Newman and Elana Levine, Legitimating Television: Media Convergence and Cultural Status (New York: Routledge, 2012).