By jove, they’ve only gone and done it. A 100 minute long commercial – err, I mean piece of branded content, are we still calling it that? – that people are not tolerating but are happily forking out £10 for the pleasure of seeing. I’m talking, of course, about the Lego Movie. On paper, it’s a dubious concept, objectionable even – recent toy brand features, after all, have hardly been benchmarks of cinematic quality (Battleships, I’m looking at you). But, having raked in upwards of $243 million in box office takings and receiving universally glowing reviews it looks like the team behind it has done the impossible and created a brand tie-in movie that doesn’t totally suck.
It’s a lesson in craft, creativity and risk-taking marketing. That’s why every agency or production company struggling with a timid, conservative client should drag them down to the nearest multiplex. Go on. And don’t worry about splashing out on overpriced popcorn – it’s going to be a worthwhile investment.
It’s subversive
For a film that is essentially a glorified toy ad, The Lego Movie is pretty ambivalent about commercialism, capitalism and conformity. The baddy is called President Business. The residents of Bricksburg subsist on an entirely bland pop culture diet – radio stations run by robots pump out the same cheesy pop song on an eternal loop and citizens obligingly watch vapid comedy shows starring Charlie Sheen-look-alikes. No one can even contemplate the thought of deviating from the instructions. And the heroes are eccentric, off-grid anarchists.
Lego hasn’t been afraid to loosen up and develop a voice that’s interesting, at times contradictory and a lot of fun. If you're trying to get your client to 'feel the fear', forget Saw or, err, Zombeavers.
Craft, Craft, Craft
Appropriately enough for a film inspired by a construction toy, craft is the key to the movie’s success. The writing is witty, zippy and layered. It’s bursting with the effortless comic verve that only really comes from months of hard work. The characters are interesting; they challenge clichés rather than indulge them. It’s the sort of script that can only happen when writers are respected and brands resist the urge to micromanage and push the hard sell.
Last week I wrote about the innovation of post houses and this week it’s Animal Logic’s turn to take the spotlight. Before seeing the film I hadn’t really considered the animation particularly. How hard can it be to build a world of CG Lego blocks? It’s just straight lines and primary colours, right? But the team has created a surprising amount of detail, investing the little yellow figures with the scuffs and scrapes that make them feel played-with and alive. It’s the perfect date movie for a client who wants to push through a compromised script or cut corners in production.
There’s even some sort of moral lesson
One of the most common complaints we hear – whether from agencies struggling to sell great ideas to brands or production companies trying to sell interesting new directors to agencies – is that people just don’t want to take risks. They’re quite happy to do what everyone else is doing. After all, you’re far less likely to look like an idiot if it goes terribly wrong. In the Lego Movie, the central character Emmet is so pleasant, so obedient and so regular that his friends and colleagues barely register his existence. Transfer that to the world of advertising and you’ve got a bit of a problem on your hands.
At its heart the film is all about creativity
Creatives, for the most part, are a sensitive bunch. It’s a pretty vulnerable place to be, when you think about it; pouring your soul into an idea only to have it rejected by a client. While some brands are creative to the core, many are not and it can be hard to allay the suspicion that a client just doesn’t get what you’re trying to do for them. Short of screaming ‘you just don’t understand!’ and slamming the door like a stroppy teenager, how do you communicate with the creatively stunted?
Again, this is where that trip to the Lego Movie comes in. The film sees the order-loving President Business track down and imprison the Master Builders, renegades who can build anything they can imagine. Business hooks his prisoners up to a huge machine that uses their collective creativity to generate plans and instruction manuals for dull skyscrapers and cities. If that’s not an analogy for creatives ploughing their skills and dreams into some of the dullest brands on the planet, I don’t know what is.