Great (?) Moments in ‘50s and ‘60s TV Ads

Now, for a word from our real sponsors. “Television Toys: Commercials From the ‘50s and ‘60s” should swoop most baby boomers back to their wonder years. How else did they learn to want every just-like-real rocket launcher and every single item of Barbie’s armoire-stuffing wardrobe?

One of the Voyager Co./Criterion’s most unusual releases (CAV, $50, one disc), this collection of toy commercials from Ira H. Gallen’s personal collection spews forth a fascinating look at nearly 100 early toy commercials, divided by subject matter. There’s enough material here to launch at least a dozen doctoral theses.

All the early manipulation, the blatant attempts to make us want, want, want toys made to look much, much better than they really were, jumps off the little screen just the way they did only a few decades ago. “Here comes the greatest toy you’ve ever seen,” screams the first commercial for a marching Mr. Machine. It’s only the beginning.

Ever wonder how little girls and little boys kept falling into those gender roles? Look no further than the 18 commercials for space and aviation toys and 10 for dolls on Side 1.

Only little boys are shown playing with planes, robots and rocket ships. Only little girls are shown enjoying the wonders of toys that cook, bake and do other homemaking tasks. The future mothers of America have a choice of one doll after another:: “You can play Mommy right now with your own Betsy Wetsy.”

We also see an ad supposedly explaining how that adorable little Betsy came about--just because a mommy wanted her little girl to feel comfortable with the new baby. Mrs. Mommy just went right up to that nice toy company honcho at a party, and explained how she thought that problem of sibling rivalry could be solved. And didn’t he just bring in all his male executives to design the perfect doll to appeal to all those mothering instincts!

When we meet Barbie and Barbie meets Ken, we can see the Mattel empire in the making. Little girls thrill to emulate that svelte teen, who in 1963 sells for only $3. Her clothes, though--all so exciting--sell for $1 to $5. “I’ll make believe that I am you,” Barbie’s new owner exclaims. No little boy swoons over Ken, or Barbie for that matter. There’s also a dating game for young girls that offers “dream dates” and “nightmare dates,” depending on the luck of the draw.

Of course, the laser format provides sharp images of these faded and scratchy commercials. The immediate digital access, with chapter stops for each commercial, makes it possible to jump from one ad to another with a minimum of wear (but most likely this project would play just as well on videotape).

“If the whole idea of watching toy commercials feels just too retro, consider this,” suggests Michael Dare in the liner notes: “If you’re not a toy nut, what are you doing with a laser disc player?”