When
patrons of Subway sat down to eat at one of the international
sandwich company's restaurants in Germany recently, their food
was delivered on trays with brightly colored tray liners
promoting the European premiere of Morgan Spurlock Sundance
Film Festival prize-winning film, Super Size Me, a
humorous takedown of McDonald's. For years, product tie-ins
and teasing/taunting the competition have been time-tested
advertising strategies that have worked wonders for the bottom
lines of films and fast food eateries. Why then is the
conservative Center for Individual Freedom charging Subway
with perpetrating "a shameless anti-American effort"?
There are three things that Spurlock's film now has in
common with Michael Moore's Fahrenheit 9/11and Mel Gibson's
The Passion of the Christ: controversy, unexpected box office
success, and they've all come under attack.
While Moore's documentary, a blistering condemnation of
President George W. Bush and his handling of the War on Iraq
and the war against terrorism, and Gibson's film, a
spare-no-details look at the last hours of Jesus Christ, were
attacked even before they hit the theatres, Spurlock's
documentary, an amusing examination of how over-indulging in
fast food can cost you your health, is now getting deep-fried
by the fast food industry and its right wing surrogates.
As usual, this year's crop of movies was designed to
entertain and make oodles of money for their producers and
distributors. But it was clear from the outset that both Moore
and Gibson had more on their minds than that: Their films were
motivated by a set of political and/or spiritual ideals. Moore
clearly intended that Fahrenheit 9/11 be used to help
defeat President Bush in November, while Gibson's The
Passion of the Christ was released on Ash Wednesday to
maximize the religious impact it might have.
Morgan Spurlock, the producer/director/star of Super
Size Me, a documentary in which Spurlock documented his
weight gain while engaging in a 30-day experimental diet
consisting exclusively of eating at McDonald's -- and
super-sizing portions every time he was given the opportunity
-- likely hoped his film would cause a little stir and be
successful enough to allow him to make more movies.
While Moore, who won an Oscar for Bowling at
Columbine, and Gibson, who won several Oscars for
Braveheart, are no strangers to controversy and
criticism, such notoriety is new to Spurlock. Now, however,
the success of Super Size Me -- as of the end of July
it had taken in $11 million, out-grossing nearly every other
art house film this summer -- and its upcoming European
premiere has brought the film, and a corporate sponsor, into
the right's crosshairs.
The Center for
Individual Freedom and Frontiers of Freedom are spearheading a
campaign against Subway, the international sandwich chain,
claiming that it is promoting the German premier of Super
Size Me by using a "tray liner... in their restaurants in
Germany and across Europe," displaying "an obese Statue of
Liberty holding a burger and fries in her hands," with the
headline "Why are Americans so fat?"
The promotion is a "shameless and anti-American effort to
increase sales in Europe," Jeff Mazzella, the Executive
Director of the Center for Individual Freedom, charged. In a
statement, Mazzella also claimed that "the headline uses the
German word 'Amis' -- a derogatory term for Americans."
"It is appalling that Subway, a U.S. company, would attack
Americans and the Statue of Liberty, our most recognizable
symbol of freedom, in a time of war just to gain market
share," Mazzella said in a statement. "Subway's advertising
strategy amounts to nothing more than a shameless and
irresponsible marketing scheme," he added. "The company is
exploiting cultural tensions and inflaming anti-American
sentiment abroad just to sell more sandwiches."
Even the ethically-challenged House Majority Leader Tom
DeLay (R-Texas) got into the act, criticizing the company's
promotion as "anti-American."
The Center for Individual Freedom is countering the
Supersize message through promoting an upcoming film by
Soso Whaley who, according to the industry front group, the
Competitive Enterprise Institute, ate breakfast, lunch and
dinner at McDonald's for two months and managed to lose
weight.
Fred DeLuca, the president and founder of Subway -- the
largest restaurant chain in the U.S. with more than 13,000
outlets, as well as an additional 7,000 in 76 countries,
adamantly denied the group's allegations.
"Why would someone join Subway, bring American food over
there, and then have a single thought of something negative
about America?" DeLuca asked during a press conference at
Subway's international headquarters in Milford, Connecticut.
DeLuca pointed out that he thought the protest might be
politically motivated considering that filmmaker Michael Moore
was in Spurlock's film and is mentioned twice in the tray
liner copy. "I suspect they are furious about Michael Moore,"
said DeLuca.
"In terms of being anti-American, that's wrong," he added.
"Our German franchisees are about the most pro-American people
you can find. They found an American product, liked it and
brought it back to their country."
When Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ was
released earlier this year, predictions from pundits,
religious activists and movie critics ranged from the
apocalyptic -- a wave of anti-Semitism would be unleashed --
to the optimistic -- a Christian revival would take place. The
film has grossed more than $370 million, yet neither
prediction has really panned out. The Dallas Morning News
recently reported that a survey by the Barna Group, "a polling
company that specializes in issues of interest to evangelical
Christians, indicated that less than one-tenth of 1 percent of
those who saw the movie were moved to become Christians as a
result. And fewer than five Christians in 1,000 who saw the
movie were moved to increase their proselytizing."
While Fahrenheit 9/11 has broken box office records
for documentaries -- passing the $100 million mark in mid-July
-- it remains to be seen whether it will have any effect on
November's election. It did, however, engender an enormous
right wing backlash. Even before the film's release,
conservatives banded together to cow theater-owners into not
running the film. When that strategy failed -- more than 2,000
screens showed the film at the height of its success -- right
wing "truth squads" fanned out across the country, filling the
media with allegations of Moore truth-fudging. Recently, a
showing of the film in George W. Bush's hometown of Crawford,
Texas, not only drew some two to three thousand people to an
outdoor screening, it also brought out several hundred
pro-Bush supporters.
Non-fiction filmmaking certainly has hit its stride in
2004. As Stephanie Bunbury writes in the Australian newspaper
The Age, "nobody would have imagined the new millennium would
see documentary become so hot it sizzles." This year's
documentaries (or docudramas in the case of the Gibson film)
are unabashedly personal, make bold political statements, show
a flash of humor (except for the Gibson film), and have been
financially successful (especially the Gibson film). In the
entertainment industry success begets more of the same.
For more
please see the Bill
Berkowitz archive.
Bill Berkowitz is a longtime observer of the
conservative movement. His WorkingForChange column
Conservative Watch documents the strategies, players,
institutions, victories and defeats of the American Right.