Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve Takes Major Inspiration From Daria’s “Fizz Ed”

It seemed too unreal to believe in many ways. And yet, at the same time, a stark glimpse into an evermore reliant-upon-corporate-“sponsorship” future. Corporate socialism, if you will. Being that these are the only entities with enough dividends to support any enterprise, even one that was once as slightly pure as Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve. Considering that more people ought to have been staying home on December 31st, surely more than the usual amount might have noticed the unabashed propaganda that was mentioning Planet Fitness (and, to a lesser extent, Kia) at every possible moment in between the camera panning to the various items of memorabilia showcasing the brand’s logo. There was, of course, no shortage of “tube men” either (“skydancers,” if you prefer, or the blowup “men” that bop around when you pump them with a nonstop supply of air). 

The capitulation to sleazy promotion was absolutely unmarred, seeming to reach a crescendo when Alfonso Ribeiro (a.k.a. Carlton from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air) segued into his signature Tom Jones dance apropos of nothing other than to showcase a gym-inspired backdrop awash in the purple and yellow tones of the Planet Fitness logo while a “Move-It Meter” “responded” to “Carlton’s” choreography (though not the fact that he was the only one of the group not wearing a mask). This was perhaps the most over the top “tribute” to corporate reverence, but no worry, the “plugs” for this and Kia continued consistently throughout the special, which seemed unaware that Daria long ago prophesied the dangers and disgust-potential of bending over for the sake of corporate funds. 

The retrospective foreshadowing to this parody-like (but sadly not) NYE special occurs at the beginning of Daria’s season five, with the episode, “Fizz Ed.” Opening with a newspaper headline that reads, “Voters Reject Property Tax Increase for the Third Consecutive Year,” and a smaller headline below that reads, “Schools Face Cuts,” we lead into Mr. O’Neill (Marc Thompson) assigning his students, “Scenes 1-5 of Doctor Faustus. Sorry I don’t have actual copies of the play for you, but you know… the budget.” Well-played, of course, with the Doctor Faustus mention on Glenn Eichler’s (a TV genius) part, as any entry into a corporate “accord” is tantamount to a deal with the devil.  

Ms. Li (Nora Laudani), in keeping with her character, has no problem with making such a deal, particularly when the school budget’s deficit starts to noticeably affect the football team (that, obviously, is the last straw–not the fact that students can’t read poorly photocopied pages of plays, or learn from outdated maps that don’t feature Chechnya as a country on it). So it is that she quickly gets into bed with a go-between for soda companies willing to bid on the chance to advertise in the school and be sold as the exclusive “choice” of the institution. Daria, who hears Ms. Li quietly announce a public meeting about this “small change” over the PA, decides she’s acting too shady not to go. What’s more, the meeting is being held on Super Bowl Sunday, further incriminating Ms. Li for her dubious intentions. When Daria, who brings Jane for moral support, unveils the implications of Ms. Li’s plan, she accuses her of stripping the school of any remaining credibility in allowing a soda company to put up “a few” “tasteful” ads in the halls. 

One imagines Planet Fitness did not bother telling ABC that the ads would be few or tasteful, but instead ordered the network to give them their money’s worth. To make it as bombastic as possible, and capitalize on frontline health care workers sporting the doled out “swag,” ranging from hats to “fun noodles.” Decidedly more concentrated on the East Coast, the New York-based special likely felt it was a “good enough” regional fit, plus, how can you go wrong with the old cliche about encouraging people to lose weight as a New Year’s resolution? But everything about the brand’s presence seemed to underscore the dystopian theme of 2020. That we are all shills if the price is right, especially with so few job opportunities on the horizon. What’s more, it lent a prophetic glimpse into a collective reliance upon brand name funds in order to put on any sort of “creative” display. 

As for Ultra Cola, they, too, waste no time in plastering their logo wherever they can throughout Lawndale High. Just as Planet Fitness did to Times Square and, de facto, all of America as it seeped into living rooms through the TV. Even the name Planet Fitness smacks of something as generic and subtly sinister as “Ultra Cola.” But who is Lawndale or ABC to complain? It helps boost morale, gives the people what they want. And for someone like Daria to bring up the obvious fact that this is grotesque in every way possible is only to invoke accusations of being a naysayer, of pissing on the parade. As she tells her boyfriend, Tom (Russell Hankin), “Everyone loves all this money coming in, and I seem to be the only one troubled by where it’s coming from.” And what the inevitable brainwashing tradeoff is, in addition to a marked reduction in the quality of the special. 

But no one has any trouble watching the “classic” NYE staple (which lost much of its classicness after 2006 when Ryan Seacrest took the reins from Clark, who had suffered a stroke and hosted in the wake of it to a mixed reception). They likely didn’t mind the urgings to text now to join, the non sequitur nods to Kia (the “crowds” were put in “boxes” featuring that brand’s logo). “Join now and break free from 2020,” is the slogan Planet Fitness has gone with, as though to help position itself as a “service” to all who just want to cleanse themselves in every way possible from the year, including the body they let atrophy while “staying at home” (though clearly, not many people did, based on the case numbers). Terms like “Exclusive New Year’s Eve offer” are thrown in for further “tantalization.” There’s no attempt to “incorporate organically”–all that needs to be done is to mention Planet Fitness every three minutes or so–when it’s not already being mentioned “tacitly” with the crowd-sported merchandise and “decorations.”

ABC, like Ms. Li, has a quota to meet, and nothing so petty as “decorum” or “subtlety” is going to prevent them from giving Planet Fitness what they want as they, in turn, have profited from the brand’s financial contribution. And regardless of whether or not schools have “a higher standard” to uphold, the truth is, standards lowering across the board in every industry is what led to an okay on this level of blitzkrieg advertising.

How does it end? When does it end? Well, in the episode’s narrative, as Daria and Jane sit on the rooftop of the school, Jane can tell Daria doesn’t feel vindicated by Ms. Li’s breakdown or the disappearance of the school ads afterward. When Jane asks “Isn’t that some kind of victory?” Daria shrugs, “I don’t know, ask those people,” pointing to a plane passing overhead that can still see all the residual rooftop advertising. So yeah, who knows what remnants of Planet Fitness will remain in Times Square long after the 31st? Apart from the fact that the special is immortalized on YouTube. Advertising really is forever.

Genna Rivieccio http://culledculture.com

Genna Rivieccio writes for myriad blogs, mainly this one, The Burning Bush, Missing A Dick, The Airship and Meditations on Misery.

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