This week’s Space X Falcon Heavy Test Flight launch was awe-inspiring! I watched, mouth agape, as history was made and applauded moments later as two of its boosters landed all by themselves. In the short space of time since, Elon Musk, with typically flippant manner, has been keeping us both amused and amazed with near Photoshop perfection as his other play-thing, the Tesla Roadster, piloted by the Starman, drifts in space.
All of the excitement reminded me of MARS, a six part dramatization-cum-documentary that I watched last weekend on Netflix. Expecting to see a fairly humdrum effort of a Mars-based sci-fi, it was with pleasant surprise to find the narrative, jumping from 2016 to 2033 and beyond, where the main drama takes place, rely very heavily on emotion and sentiment.
The opening sequence and a great part of the story is obviously set in a fictional sphere, however for those with a keen eye the leading title, “National Geographic Presents” makes it clear that the next 45 minutes will in some way aim to inform, as well as entertain.
MARS is a hybrid of native advertising (already a mix of 3rd-party perspective and product placement) and “content” (basically anything and everything that can be used to promote a related or featured product or service), attempting to motivate sci-fi lovers that real science is just as compelling, entirely because it has actually happened and invariably could again. Purists in science and storytelling may not like bleeding the boundaries, however the marketers among us will appreciate that in a world where people have turned away from traditional one-way communication in favour of following their own interests without restriction, this was an on-trend piece of infotainment with popular appeal for what most people would consider a worthy scientific cause.
By the time episode one is 30 minutes in Mars itself (or the dramatization of it) has yet to actually feature in the show. Instead the story dwells in the emotional space surrounding human daring, historical exploration and the feats that humanity’s best and brightest have to overcome, just to get to the red planet in the first place. Sure, aren’t we great?!
I enjoyed that so much emphasis was placed on triggering emotion around humanity’s will to step beyond our earthly limitations, and highlight all the work that current public and private organisations such as NASA and Space X are busily involved in, in the hope to turn us into an interplanetary species.
National Geographic makes an entertaining, albeit at times a little over-acted, drama of why the human race, assisted by the latest and greatest technology, does what it does on the path to discovery and why this is an important ideal for humanity to remain focused on (Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar does the job of visualising the problems with the alternative). The series delivers a compelling narrative reminding viewers that as members of the larger human story, they too are as equipped—and therefore involved—as the scientists and astronauts a Mars journey will eventually require. By engendering this feel good factor the conversation around science becomes less the territory of qualified science buffs and more the realm of a broader and more consuming target audience.
Make no mistake MARS is a glorified vision statement. I can imagine the creative brief that the marketing, creative and production teams likely worked from: “National Geographic exists to inspire humanity to the many wonders of our planet and universe in order that each and everyone of us feel connected not merely to the world around us, but to each of our potential to do great things in the face of adversity.” or something to that effect.
With examples and feats of human daring-do MARS (and by extension National Geographic) rewards those who are usually more interested in science fiction to see the value in science fact, their connection to it, and the resulting impact on society as a whole. Now, don’t forget to buy our product!
Personally I enjoy these types of brand or product placements. You get informed as well as have your interest tweaked in an area that normally you mightn’t look twice at, all the while made to feel good about yourself and your potential for self-improvement.
As a marketer I thought it was a pretty enjoyable and motivating brand experience, but as a marketer from Ireland, having seen many of the world’s bigger and more influential nations being represented a lifetime over, I was reminded, yet again, of my selfish desire to be spoken directly to, for once, in a way that I felt was an appropriate representation of who I am, as a target. Naturally, this space drama needn’t have tried—not all countries can or should have been represented—but like any story that paints a picture of a group of people who strive against the odds to reach for the stars, literally or not, I’m left utterly wanting from anything that comes out of Ireland.
TV is off the charts right now, and has been for quite some time. I love it. But, in all this time of subscription services from Netflix and Amazon Prime, and budgets and viewership reaching astronomical heights, how much out there even comes close to representing who we are? Never mind the fact that we have the oldest vernacular literature (talking about Irish, by the way) in Western Europe, with the world’s largest recorded collection of folklore that contains a reservoir of material with such mighty epics as Táin Bó Cúailnge—predating Beowulf and Homer’s Odyssey—or the entire Ulster Cycle, or any of the other three Irish cycles. How much of storytelling, in its conventional sense, gets dramaticized for TV or film and stems from everywhere around the world, yet the best we get is the odd mention for having amazing craftsmanship in The Last Kingdom, or its “Irish” character Finan, who never actually says anything in, y’know, Irish. Failing that how about the wince-inducing accents from supposed Irish characters in Frontier or American Gods—each from a time when an Irish-speaking Ireland was alive and well! (Lest we forget Transformers Mr. Oirish himself, Jack Reynor, here interviewed trying (and failing) to say that he was dutifully flying the flag for Ireland. (The comments below are spot on, btw.)
Even for non-conventional stories, those told through products or services, that exist in every major city, how many times can you walk around their high streets to find quality contributions from everywhere but Ireland? For obvious reasons I’m skipping over Irish pubs or kiss-me-I’m-Irish t-shirts. There doesn’t appear to be anything that reminds us who we are and what we are actually potentially capable of doing. These days it's piggy-backed fantasy stories from either Game of Thrones or Star Wars, neither of which actually refer to the culture that grew from the places that feature in the franchises. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy them too, regardless where they are based, just like anyone else (Shout out for Last Kingdom, which I do enjoy, and of course BBC’s immaculately produced War & Peace [what a soundtrack!]. Even Poldark was good until it went a bit Outlander in the last series.), but really I don’t have a choice. It’s not like, as Megan Garber suggests about TV in December 2016, when realistic drama was seeing an upturn versus fantasy, because to be honest I’d be happy with either. As she puts it: “It’s a powerful thing, after all, to see yourself reflected back to you on a screen!” And by that I mean whether it is actually ourselves in our truest and most authentic form, or even the fantasy and myth that our culture generated and aspired to (as opposed to the fantasy and myth spawned by the English-speaking world’s Edmund Spenser in A View of the Present State of Ireland).
With the exception of some safe attempts such as the series An Klondike, and the Hollywood feature Pilgrimage there is a complete lack of aspirational and representative work out there. Even these examples obviously had pressure to include English at every opportunity. An Klondike, while enjoyable, probably wouldn’t have been viable without it (Netflix in Japan went so far as completely dubbing over the Irish with English despite already having subtitles, in English, in Japan [this says more about Japan to be honest]) and in Pilgrimage I got the feeling that they virtually decided to drop Irish altogether after a while (because, obviously, English was the dominant language in 13th century Gaelic Ireland during the Welsh-Norman conquest).
All this from a place supposed to be “The Land of Saints and Scholars”. If that’s true then why is our voice so weak? Far be it for me to ever criticise big Liam Neeson (he will find me, and he will… you get the idea) but I couldn’t help feel that while the 2016 promotional video he narrated for the Rugby World Cup 2023 bid was purposely relying on the small scale of the island (despite the umpteen mentions of “world”) it played a lot into Oirish (à la Jack Reynor, again?) and came across as a little needy and twee. Sure we’re a small country, but I don’t remember ever having to emphasise that when I was at home or abroad, like some form of apology (just like the now ubiquitous “our wee country” expression in the North <cringe>). This grovelling absurdity doesn’t do us any favours—“I know we’re small and maybe if we get our shit together, you wouldn’t mind, I dunno, maybe, you could let us host the rugger at all?” Come on! Stand up straight and stick the chest out! Where’s our celebration of ourselves, our belief in who we are, not the notion that the English-speaking worldview has managed to convince us of? That said there are a few notably well crafted English language exceptions by Cartoon Saloon with the beautiful Song of the The Sea and, The Secret of Kells (Looking forward to Wolfwalkers, by the way! A 17th century Ireland depiction. Do us right, guys! No pressure!), as well as the melancholy and stirring My Ireland, by Stephen James Smith, who takes no time at all before saying: “My Ireland needs a vision!”
Sin é, go díreach, a mhic ó!
With a cap-in-hand voice from colonised English-speaking Ireland as well as a virtual non-existent representation from the Irish-speaking world I have to wonder how long it’ll be before I get to see the aspiration, and the hopes and dreams that I believe are at all of our core, dormant, and waiting to be stirred. When can we get to a stage when we don’t second-guess ourselves and scream out: “This is who we are! This is where we are! And, where we intend to go!”?
Watching MARS was an easy to consume piece of high production content marketing for National Geographic. It inspired thanks to a feel good factor that relied on our latent capability to overcome whatever obstacles stand in our way. I wonder will it be possible for popular culture to do the same for Ireland. Stephen James Smith puts it best: “Go back to the source!”
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