The Mr. Peanut chronicles

Burned by past disasters, icon managers have learned the hard way that the suave mascot must never wear a wetsuit and that Ronald McDonald cannot hang out in bars.

Mar 24, 2000 | Despite the bewildering complexity of the guidelines governing product spokescharacters' every move, appearance, thought and emotion, it's still possible to come up with a few rules of thumb. The first seems to be that at no time should the character be placed in an undignified or embarrassing situation. He must never be seen as a bumbler, or made the butt of jokes. Throughout all his pratfalls and blunders, he must always retain his chubby, rubbery dignity. "The Doughboy is always treated with love and respect by the people in the commercials," says Dennis Ready of Pillsbury. "He might be teased, but it's in the lightest possible way. He's never taken advantage of. He's never made the butt of the joke ... That sort of negativity, that sort of hostile area, aren't feelings we want him to be associated with."

Says Mark Delahanty of General Mills' Lucky Charms, "We've put together a list of about eight to 10 qualities that we want Lucky to embody. Some of those attributes would be 'magic' and 'adventure' and 'kid passion.' And we are constantly mapping perceptions of Lucky against those attributes." Lately, Delahanty says, a disturbing trend has surfaced. "We're beginning to hear something in focus groups that we're not too happy with," he says. "People are starting to describe Lucky as a bit of a bumbler. And we really are taking a look at that. It's difficult, because Lucky does have to be foiled in the end. The kids always get the Lucky Charms at the end of the commercial. But the kids shouldn't be laughing at him. It's more like they're laughing with him." The solution, Delahanty muses, might be to ensure that Lucky "isn't foiled by an action taken by the kids. Maybe he's foiled by some third-party action that he couldn't have any control over. That way, there's less of a loss of control. He's in control of himself, and in control of his magic."

General Mills has already taken steps to ensure that the enigmatic confectioner isn't perceived as a "ridiculous bumbler," Delahanty adds. "One thing we've done is we've reestablished that the marshmallows are a creation of Lucky. Although they have magical qualities, they never take on a personality of their own. They are inanimate objects. That's an area where in the past, there's been a little zigging and zagging. But we've refocused after our most recent equity study. Now, we've reestablished that Lucky is totally in control."

According to Ashley Postlewaite of Renegade Animation, Chester the Cheetah, the personification of Chee-tos, was also starting to be perceived as "too goofy." "He's supposed to be goofy, but he's also supposed to be very cool," Postlewaite explains. A decision was made to push Chester toward "having a cooler personality." Now, "instead of being a complete goof, he pulls it back into control," she says. "His head still spins around. His eyes bulge out ... Everything's dangerously hot, dangerously cheesy. But then, somehow, he pulls it back into control to say -- Chee-tos." Postlewaite provides an example of how this works in practice -- incidentally revealing criminal-friendly behavior parameters that would cause mass cardiac arrest among the Doughboy's handlers. "In an upcoming spot, we have him breaking into a factory while the security guard sleeps," she says. "The old Chester would have been tripping over things, kind of bungling his way in. Now, he's very suave. He takes a moment to dust off the security camera with his tail." She pauses. "It's just a lot of subtle acting things," she says.

Physical depiction is important as well. All precautions are taken to ensure that the character is never shown in a pose that is awkward or unflattering. "We've been doing the Doughboy for a long time now," says Brad Lewis, a director at Pacific Data Images (PDI). "He's a feel-good icon. He falls within the extremely good-guy personality range. So you're not going to put him in a pose where he looks uncomfortable. A pose where you say, 'Hey, that doesn't look like our guy.'" Lewis gives some examples of what he's talking about. "In general, you don't like to see the Doughboy's rear end," he reflects. "That's not a flattering point of view for our little spokesguy." There's more. "He doesn't do a lot of clenched-fist stuff," Lewis says. "That only draws attention to the fact that he doesn't have fingers ... Then, when he runs, he doesn't take large strides. He takes little steps. Then, when he falls down, his hat can jump off his head a little bit. That gives him the opportunity to readjust it, and give a little sheepish smile."

There's one final thing. "We have to be careful that you never see the whites of his eyes," Lewis says ominously. Why, so no one will shoot him? "No," Lewis says. "It's just that when he looks straight at the camera, so his eyes are dead center -- well, let's just say he has a tendency not to look as, uh, lively. It's much better to put his hand on his hip, keep his chin down, cock his head to the side. He's the kind of guy who generally wants to be on angle."

Mastering the mechanics of the physical Doughboy is an onerous process, but Lewis says it's well worth it. "I've got to tell you, he's a boatload of fun to animate and direct," he says. "Often, since I can perform better than I can draw, I'm the one performing his motions for the animator. Like, in the Toaster Strudel spot we did, he sits on a little box, and then jumps off. So I sat up on a table, and I told the animators: 'This is how he would do it.' And I actually jumped off the table." Lewis was not happy with the first round of sketches that came back. "It was like, no, no, no. And I got back on the table. And I said, 'I want him to be a little happier. There should be that moment of surprise before he squinches up his eyes and pushes off. Like this. And I pushed off. And everyone instantly said, 'Wow, that's our guy!'

Such perseverance, Lewis says, is a virtual necessity. "It's like working with a famous actor, whose personality is really well-defined," he reflects. "Sometimes, he just has a great day. And everybody says, 'Boy, he just nailed it! He was in a good mood -- and he nailed it.' I know it sounds odd. But that's the world we live in."

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