SXSW 2011: The Greatest Movie Ever Sold

If there’s one thing you should know about Morgan Spurlock, it’s that he’s a remarkable showman. While his documentaries always contain some kind of academic value, his main intention seems to be entertaining the audience, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. It’s what helped “Super Size Me” become such an immense success, and it played a big part in making “Where in the World is Osama Bin Laden?” – Spurlock’s much weightier follow-up – a lot more interesting than it would have been in the hands of another filmmaker. His latest project, “The Greatest Movie Ever Sold,” doesn’t pretend to be about anything nearly as important as the issues he’s tackled in the past (obesity and the war on terror), but it’s without a doubt his funniest and most creative documentary to date.

It’s no secret that product placement has become an integral part of the entertainment industry, with billions of dollars spent every year by corporations looking to inundate our movies and television shows with subliminal advertisements. In an attempt to learn more about the process of this rapidly growing business (and hopefully make people more aware of what they’re being exposed to), Spurlock has set out to make a documentary about branding, advertising and product placement that’s funded entirely by product placement. It’s an ingenious idea, as the film operates both as an eye-opening lesson in brand integration and a satirical, first-hand account of how movie studios obtain financing from corporations.

The first half of the documentary focuses on Spurlock’s attempt to pitch his idea to various Fortune 500 companies, with many refusing to even take a meeting with the infamous director at the risk of looking like a fool. After Ban Deodorant comes on board as the first official sponsor, however, Spurlock has more luck persuading corporate executives to invest in the movie – including companies like Jet Blue, Mini Cooper and Old Navy – with POM Wonderful agreeing to pay $1 million to buy the above title rights.

the_greatest_movie_ever_sol-sm

But what Spurlock soon discovers is that there are consequences that come with accepting that money, with some companies demanding creative control over the final cut of the movie or setting certain stipulations that he’s legally obligated to follow. Like, for instance, the idea that once POM Wonderful becomes the official drink of “The Greatest Movie Ever Sold,” he can no longer be filmed drinking anything made by their competitors. Obviously, Spurlock plays this for big laughs as he blurs out entire walls of Coca-Cola and Pepsi while shopping at the grocery store, and makes a point of zooming in on bottles of POM during interviews, but he also posits a good question about how much corporate interference is too much before you’re considered a sellout.

While guys like Ralph Nader and Noam Chomsky offer their opinions on the matter, Spurlock also speaks with those who have a little more experience dealing with brand integration in movies, including Quentin Tarantino, J.J. Abrams, and Brett Ratner, who not only admits that product placement is necessary, but when asked how it affects his artistic integrity bluntly replies, “Artistic integrity? Whatever.” You have to give Ratner credit for being honest, but Spurlock knows a great moment when he sees one, and his film is littered with other nuggets of comedic gold just like it – even manufactured ones, like a running joke involving Mane ‘n Hair shampoo with an awesome payoff in the end.

That may disappoint some people who feel like Spurlock’s shenanigans only dampen the impact of his message, but many moviegoers wouldn’t even be willing to sit through a documentary about product placement if it wasn’t so entertaining. The film will still teach you a thing or two along the way, but if you’re going to learn, you might as well as enjoy yourself while you do, because although it may not have the same cultural effect as “Super Size Me,” “The Greatest Movie Ever Sold” is Spurlock at the top of his game.

  

You can follow us on Twitter @moviebuffs and on Facebook as well.

Related Posts

Red Carpet Chatter: Mike Nichols Gets His AFI Lifetime Achievement Award

nicholsenhance

Born in 1931 in what was very soon to become Hitler’s Germany, young Michael Peschkowsky was living in Manhattan by 1939. It was great luck both for the future Mike Nichols and for the country that accepted him.

Nichols is, of course, one of the most respected directors in Hollywood, and for good reason. He’s the original, craftsmanlike, and emotionally astute directorial voice responsible for such sixties and seventies classics as “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?,”  “Carnal Knowledge” and, of course, “The Graduate” (the source of his only directorial Oscar so far) as well as such eighties, nineties, and oughts successes as “Silkwood,” “Working Girl,” “The Birdcage,” and “Closer.” Even if some of the later films are not on the same level of quality as his earlier films — and several, especially his 1988 box office hit, “Working Girl,” stray into mediocrity — it’s still one of the most impressive and diverse careers of any living director in Hollywood.

That’s just on the big screen. On television, Nichols has rebounded in the eyes of many critics, directing two of the most acclaimed television productions of the last decade, 2001’s “Wit” with Emma Thompson, and the outstanding 2005 miniseries adaptation of Tony Kushner’s brilliant and mammoth epic play, “Angels in America.” With his 80th birthday just a year and a half away, he’s still working hard with two thrillers movies planned, including an I’ll-believe-it-when-I-see-it remake of Akira Kurosawa’s “High and Low” currently being rewritten by the decidedly counter-intuitive choice of Chris Rock.

Before he directed his first foot of film, Mike Nichols was a noted theater director. That in itself is not so unusual a root for directors to travel. What is different is that, before he was a noted theater director, he was half of one of the most influential comedy teams in show business history, Nichols and May. (His comedy partner, Elaine May, went on to become an important, if less commercially successful, writer and director in her own right.)

Still, from the moment he directed his first major play, Neil Simon’s “Barefoot in the Park,” Nichols mostly abandoned performing. Today, his highly regarded early work is mostly known only to fairly hardcore comedy aficionados.

elaine-may-006-500x375

Read the rest of this entry »

  

Related Posts