I have yet to "determine" the answer to my research question, though I have circled around the topic of branding, co-branding and co-brandedness for several months now. I don't think I will ever make a definitive determination on the subject, but I would like to gain a better understanding of how co-branding, especially in advertising for movies, is both a product of our society and a reflection of it.
Raymond Williams has highlighted three distinct levels of culture:
There is the lived culture of a particular time and place, only fully accessible to those living in that time and place. There is the recorded culture, of every kind, from art to the most everyday facts: the culture of the period. There is also, as the factor connecting lived culture and period cultures, the culture of the selective tradition.
These three levels correspond to a social hierarchy of sorts; namely, the lived culture being one of everyday practice and "people," recorded culture being what people leave behind, and the "selective tradition" being administered by those in dominant positions of society, who deem appropriate for inclusion in our cultural history certain recorded practices to the exclusion of others.
In reading the business histories I have encountered during my research, I have developed the idea that this "selective tradition" is, according to themselves, crafted by captains of industry. They are not themselves the makers of our history, nor even are they solely responsible for their own successes. I think the realities of capitalist innovation are far more complex. However, these captains of industry nevertheless cast themselves in this role, as their own histories shamelessly trumpet each and every "lone genius" in the business world, the "first and very best" to accomplish any grand design or scheme, a forger of traditions to be handed down from CEO to CEO for decade upon decade, and on and on forever into the capitalist Utopia of our collective future tense.
In this regard, the business histories are highly uncritical. What's more, they transform by their nostalgia the creative feats of ad men and women acting outside the bounds of corporate policy, the unexpected uses made by consumers of their wares, and indeed even the insatiable appetite of a consuming public, into their own successes. Co-branding is not a thing "invented" by the executives at Yum! Brands, Inc., any more than the VW bus was "invented" to appeal to 1960s hippie counterculture. Yet, this argument is made, more or less, about Volkswagen, in discussions of the now famous ad campaign waged by the Doyle, Dane and Bernbach agency in the 1950s and 60s. The sentiment is paradoxically refrained in the writings of cultural critics such as Thomas Frank, who legitimize the "great man" rhetoric of business histories by wielding the things these men say about themselves ("We created the counterculture") in combat against those "cultural studies" intellectuals who might look for "emancipatory" messages in the commodities of popular culture. In so doing, Frank et al. unwittingly reinforce the authority of captains of industry to forge their "selective tradition."
My friend Kevin is a fan of Frank, and he and I had a discussion about this very thing the other day. Kevin's thoughts on Frank (and he has read much more of it than I have) are significantly more generous, as he sees the argument as a "cultural studies doesn't pay enough attention to economics" one, more than a "cultural studies vs. economics" one. In my reduction of the position, I certainly establish a binary, but ultimately I do still feel like hard core economic "new historicist" Marxism legitimates the tall tales of captains of industry by reading the tall tales as if they were legitimate history. From this point, the Marxist either rails against the tall tale, assuming it is a worthy foe; or, as in the case of Frank, uses the tall tale as a weapon against those engaged in a similar, but assumed to be ineffective, campaign of criticism.
Kevin thinks I am being to post-structural, and maybe that is true.
In the end, I am here, at the end of my summer data collection, with a lot of information, a lot of ideas, and a very strong desire to somehow come to terms with my initial assessment of Will Ferrell's Talladega Nights, and the orgy of consumerism, branding and co-branding that can be read on its surface. Is Ricky Bobby a Stephen Colbert? And does Stephen Colbert effectively or ineffectively critique contemporary conservative politics?
I want to say that Ferrell does a similar thing in "Talladega," that we are dealing with some "next level" political satire, beyond mere irony, post-irony or maybe even post-post-irony...
Those are my thoughts.