Clowning Glory
He is a CEO for the ‘90s: gutsy, demanding, charismatic. Almost single-handedly, he rescued an ailing hamburger chain.
And he’s fake.
He is Jack the clown--centerpiece of a clever advertising campaign for Jack-in-the-Box restaurants that has won back customers scared off by a food-poisoning tragedy in 1993. The cocky icon, with a pointed hat atop his beach-ball-size head, is a hit with males in their late teens up to their 30s--voracious consumers of cheeseburgers, shakes and fries.
The success of Jack illustrates the power of advertising icons. From vegetables and batteries to detergents and popcorn, icons have been used by advertisers to connect with consumers. Witness Green Giant, Energizer Bunny and Mr. Clean.
Icons work because they represent values larger than the products themselves. Thus, Green Giant stands for a brand that is happy while Mr. Clean is so synonymous with spotlessness that American Honda Motor Co. is using him in its ads.
The secret behind Jack lies in his disarming personality. Gen-Xers distasteful of advertising view him as a parody of hyped celebrity pitchmen--and like him because of it. In TV commercials, Jack fires whiners, taunts competitors and mocks corporate yes-men--a “Chainsaw Al” Dunlap with a clown head.
“People love his attitude,” said Lynda Pearson, an owner of Amazon Advertising in San Francisco. “He gets away with saying all the things we wish we could say.”
Since introducing Jack in 1994, the operator of Jack-in-the-Box restaurants has rung up record sales increases and reversed a three-year profit slide. Foodmaker Inc. says the popularity of Jack is a key reason for the turnaround.
Whether Jack withstands the test of time or ends up in the icon scrap heap with Speedy Alka-Seltzer and the California raisins is another matter.
Jack arrived at Foodmaker at a crucial time. The company was struggling to recover from the food-poisoning outbreak in the Pacific Northwest that killed four children and sickened hundreds of other people who had eaten hamburgers tainted with E. coli bacteria at Jack-in-the-Box.
Foodmaker overhauled its food-handling practices after the tragedy to restore public confidence. Jack was brought in to rebuild the San Diego-based hamburger chain’s image.
It was a risky move. Foodmaker had ditched a clown icon in 1980, blowing it to bits on TV. There was no assurance that an updated Jack would work.
It did.
The commercial introducing Jack had him blowing up the boardroom to avenge his 1980 removal. The spot, from TBWA Chiat/Day of Venice, generated controversy because it aired on the heels of a Unabomber attack that killed a New Jersey public relations executive. But it tapped into the rebellious streak in teenage boys and young men.
“He’s a no-nonsense, doesn’t-suffer-fools-gladly kind of clown,” says Dick Sittig, the advertising executive who created Jack at TBWA Chiat/Day. Sittig currently works on Jack-in-the-Box ads at his Santa Monica agency, called Kowloon Wholesale Seafood Co.
Though he’s not real, Jack gets hundreds of calls, letters and e-mail correspondences from fans. One signed his missive: “Yours in Jack.” Nearly 3 million customers have shelled out 99 cents apiece for antenna balls that bear Jack’s likeness.
Foodmaker has fueled the fanaticism with promotions around Jack. Besides the antenna balls, it has cranked out blue T-shirts with the slogan: “What this country needs is a no-nonsense take-charge kind of clown.”
During last year’s presidential campaign, Foodmaker ran a “Jack for President” campaign on the Internet. Postelection bumper stickers declared, “Don’t Blame Me, I Voted for Jack.”
For the three months ending July 6, Foodmaker reported earnings of $10 million, up 81% from $5.5 million for the same period in 1996. Sales in restaurants open at least one year--a key measure of performance--rose nearly 8% at a time when McDonald’s Corp.’s domestic sales were flat for the same period.
Sittig, also the voice of Jack, didn’t set out to create an icon. He said it isn’t possible to do so.
“The public decides what is going to be an icon,” he said.
The uncertainty about how consumers will receive an icon scares off marketers; that’s one reason why tie-ins with movie characters are so popular.
“Why should I take the risk of creating a character when, for a lesser risk, I can tie in to a [movie] character?” said David Stewart, chairman of USC’s marketing department.
But a successful icon does have advantages. Jack, for instance, is distinctive and cannot be copied. Foodmaker controls his personality and decides how to use him.
“Jack works on a whole bunch of levels,” said Brad Haley, vice president of marketing communications for Foodmaker.
Maintaining Jack’s image is a continuing challenge for Foodmaker. Icons can wear thin over time. After years of pitching popcorn, Orville Redenbacher became a caricature of himself.
“People were starting to doubt he was real,” said Millie Olson, who worked on Redenbacher ads before forming Amazon Advertising with Pearson.
The long-running Energizer battery campaign was revamped recently to keep it fresh. The focus has been shifted from the pink bunny to people obsessed with it.
Foodmaker executives say they’re aware of the pitfalls. In June, they gave the job of hawking Sourdough Jack burgers on TV commercials to a battalion of helpers: the antenna balls.
“If Jack is just a pitchman, over time he’ll lose his credibility,” Haley said. “We’re very cautious about not overexposing Jack and burning him out.”
Not that Jack is getting ready to step down as CEO to, uh, pursue other interests. In new spots, he plugs chicken sandwiches and rhapsodizes about ingredients of shakes.
