First impressions are expensive ones: Political image makers spend tens of thousands of dollars to buy TV airtime in a municipal election season, selling their candidates like so much breakfast cereal.
As with cereals, marketers pitch precise messages in short bursts, less a matter of what they’re selling than which target group they’re trying to hit. Will your target respond better to an animated tiger or a quasi-scientific nutritional analysis? Or, in the case of a big-city mayor, a lighthearted, virtual handshake, or a content-rich spot meant to convey positions on issues?
Let the experts evaluate what comedian Stephen Colbert might call the “truthiness” of those commercials. We’ll stick to analyzing the images themselves.
The spots currently on the air pitching Denver mayoral candidates suggest a range of types:
The big-time mover and shaker. The local kid who succeeded despite a rough start. The regular guy who’s one of us. The family man who knows both the English and Spanish sides of Denver. Local viewers can easily attach the names by now.
They all seem like lovely folks who want to fill a void. They want it so badly, they’re raiding campaign war chests to reach out through the small screen.
Although it feels like they’re on more than Dealin’ Doug, political spots account for a small fraction of local stations’ ad revenues. Industry sources say there’s already been about $1 million spent in Denver’s TV political advertising related to the mayoral race. There will probably be another $1 million spent if and when a runoff occurs, which is looking likely. That’s a mere 1.5 percent to 2 percent of the total ad dollars spent in the market.
So what’s the take-away for couch potatoes? Would you buy a used car from these candidates?
Chris Romer looks official somehow, wearing a jacket and open-collared shirt in slick spots, mingling with students and talking about what he’ll do for education. His ads are polished — lots of editing, lots of locations. But how slick is too slick for a candidate in the most casual of Western cities?
James Mejia flatters us by noting we’ve already “accomplished great things” and stressing education. In another spot he notes he’s served in the mayor’s cabinet and has “the experience to move Denver forward.” Crisp, but will voters notice they are short on specifics?
Michael Hancock affirms his personal story of triumph over hardship, saying, “I never gave up.” In another, he drives his son 18 miles across town to East High School because his local school is “one of many that are failing.” Memorable, and at least he’s kept the kid in public school. But are the ads too dramatic for a cynical electorate?
Doug Linkhart is only briefly on-screen, after a parade of (mostly senior) regular folks attest to his abilities. He appears down-to- earth as he assures voters he’s “one of us,” in a polo shirt. Not a TV natural, but a geek did just fine in the last mayoral election here.
For students of media, the impressions are gut-level. What are we seeing?
Cheerleaders, would-be correctives; critics of local government as well as participants in local government. A vibrant Denver, a failing Denver. Two white guys, a Hispanic guy and an African-American guy, and (until Carol Boigon dropped out of the race Monday) a Jewish woman. Some with offspring as props.
Romer, who has spent the most on ads so far, looks like his dad, the former governor. Mejia comes across as a Denver native with deep local roots and a pretty young family. Hancock has a great personal story, up from homelessness; what could he do next? And Linkhart is thoughtful, but a lack of charisma isn’t a plus in the “American Idol” era.
The race is on, and so’s the TV.
Joanne Ostrow: 303-954-1830 or jostrow@denverpost.com
