So Tony Kushner a world-class playwright, wants the chance to develop a play like any workshop theater playwright can. He wants to do it at a major regional theater, in order to build up for the Broadway debut it deserves. The Guthrie mishandles its press release to critics. Some critics are already so pissed at the Guthrie that they will take it inevitably out on Kushner and everyone working on the show (they won't ever claim to if they do). Why are they doing that? Because the critics' jobs may be on the line if they don't cover it at the Guthrie.
This is how things work in 2009. Even in theater, the one medium where you can't hide behind a computer screen.
A former colleague of mine with much more experience in offline marketing than I'll ever have posited this question to me awhile back:
I am noticing that...people who know SEO do not understand PR and the value of reported stories....
But maybe my universe is too small. Do you think it would be fair to say that in general, sports like you excepted, SEO experts just have no clue about the 4th estate?
I dashed out a quick response, but in hindsight I actually was very happy with how it came out:
Well, I'm not sure I'd go that far. I don't know the statistics of it exactly, but I do know there are a significant portion of people, myself included, who became interested in SEO after a larger interest in the media and journalism. I think anyone who writes for a website, even if their job description is purely editorial, has to know about SEO. So I will say there is a general interest in the media.
However, I wouldn't be surprised if just as many or more people came into SEO after doing marketing for years. SEO is a form of PR, but it's only one side of publicity, and most people who do it now are utterly oblivious to pre-computer marketing tactics. In general, I think the value of persuasive and quality writing is underrated even when taking SEO into consideration—SEOers love to say "content is king," but when I've heard SEO-minded people saying that, they're definition of good content is websites with correct site architecture, keyword usage, and lots of backlinks.
While the former two make up the relatively easy part of SEO, the last part, getting quality backlinks, is the most volatile and misunderstood part of SEO. Getting listed in a bunch of directories or random blogs with PageRanks of 3 is nice, but if you really want to rake it, you need much bigger sites with much higher authority—and those are still dominated by strictly editorial-minded sites that more than likely have some basis in the old media world (newspaper websites, academic websites). Even the "newer generation" of sites that give the highest-stature backlinks, such as the Gawker Media Blogs, Yahoo Blogs, etc., are still dominated in editorial policy by older conventions, even if the format and style is drastically different. That's something most people who develop websites don't understand, and when they're told this, they usually dismiss it since everything's "long tail" and all it takes is one big link...
But in hindsight, a few questions came out of this that I'd like to pose to SEO'ers: 1) Was your pre-SEO background based in editorial, or marketing 2) Do you place any greater SEO value on a website with established editorial clout in the offline world? 3) What do you think the defines "good content," be it marketing or editorial content, in the SEO age?
Hubris killed the Buffalo—Bruised Egos, Bad Publicity, and even worse Critical Judgment,
Image via WikipediaToday, I wake up mad and with a chip on my shoulder, feeling bitter towards all of theater criticism, and thinking that New York critics are even more thinned-skinned than the artists they mock for being ultra-sensitive. I realize that I liked the Broadway revival of American Buffalo more than most people. I may have overlooked its shortcomings in my review, I admit, but that's only because I thought the play's social timeliness and display of Mamet's greatness was more important than any of the lackluster elements in the production itself. Furtermore, those shortcomings not nearly as egregious as Ben Brantley and others made it out to be. Rooney's review at least I could relate to, but when I read Brantley's review, I felt like I had simply seen a different show than him. It turns out, Brantley and the lot of New York critics may have let a botched press reception cloud their judgment—and as a result, American Buffalo is closing way too soon.
The New York Observer told the story of a lunch reception last Friday meant for critics was canceled without critics being warned. The lunch had been put together haphazardly; I received an email at the last minute, and couldn't make it anyway. But if that wasn't enough, the opening night reception was closed to critics. Except that it wasn't, and the publicists gave mixed signals:
"This is fucking moronic on their part! They don't have the right to ban anyone. I would have invited you. It wasn't closed because Michael Musto was there," Mr. Kornberg said, referring to the Village Voice gossip columnist. "Would you please forward me that email right away, so I can show it to a producer that is holding on the other line. I can't wait to show these people!"
So yes, there were multiple publicity screw-ups with this production. That's a mark against the publicity team. Fine. But my question is: is that the fault of the production itself? Should the actors and directors be punished by critics who are pissed off by how they were treated by publicists the production team had nothing to do with? More to the point, should audiences be punished by receiving false information about a show they may enjoy without having to deal with any publicity confusions?
If you read Brantley's review with the idea that his feeling may have been hurt, the review seems especially pouty, drama queen-ish and retortive. It would be one thing if Brantley was slighted by an egregiously awful production. But while this production may not have been perfect, it was not, by any normal standards of a flop, as bad as that review indicated.
The publicity team for a show has nothing to do with the show's audience and everything to do with its critical reception. This is another area where the showgoing experience is fundamentally different between audience and critic. But if critics did their jobs, they would look past incompetent publicity and give the production a review while their critical judgment was not compromised by how much (or how little) publicists pampered aided them.
What were the major complaints? It didn't establish a proper father-son dynamic? John Leguizamo wasn't vicious enough? Fine, those are legitimate complaints, but they don't make an epic failure of a flop in my mind. Furthermore, as even the pans were willing to point out, Buffalo is a much better play than Speed-the-Plow. Speed-the-Plow, need I remind you, didn't get the universal glowing reviews everyone liked to claim it received after Buffalo came out—that is if you read someone otherthanBrantley. So how much did critics hate on this production simply because they weren't invited to the cool kids' party? Unfortunately, we won't have enough time for the play to build an audience to know—an outcome no doubt influenced by Brantley's irrational slamming. Thanks, New York.