Why Do We Still Believe Trailers?

green_trailer.jpg

A few years back, faux trailers were a fad; specifically, faux trailers that were edited to make the movies in question appear radically different than they actually were. One of the more popular ones was "Scary Mary," which was a recut ad designed to make Mary Poppins look like a horror movie:

There was also one that made The Shining look like a coming-of-age dramedy:

Around the same time, people were making joke versions of the trailer for Brokeback Mountain, including this one that retooled Back to the Future as a story of forbidden love:

The gag here is, of course, just how easy it is to make a trailer diverge wildly from the movie it's advertising, with nothing more than the right song selections and some choice edits. These recut trailers pull the curtain down and show us the men and women pulling the switches: look how it easy is to make Doc and Marty fall in love, or Jack Torrance care for his family. Trailers can lie so easily. Why, then do we still believe them?

Trailers are as popular as ever among viewers and marketers. (Blockbuster films are built around campaigns involving nested series of trailers, sneak peeks, and even teases for trailers.) Even when they all start to run together, and even when they're clearly selling a different product than the actual film, they remain big business. Yet the existence of the jokey recut trailers would seem to suggest that people know trailers are misleading, or at least, that they know trailers have the potential to be misleading. How can we laugh at their disingenuousness in one moment and breathlessly watch them, eyes wide, in the next?

• Maybe we like being targeted by marketing. Marketers know what we like, too. Trailers are designed to be alluring, tasty, and filling in an empty way, like fatty snacks that hit our tastebuds just so. There's a reason we can't stop eating junk food, and there's a reason we can't stop watching trailers.

• I also think we like suspending disbelief. A movie is long, and complicated, and potentially disappointing. It ebbs and flows, and it takes more effort on our part to get and stay engaged. A trailer, though, is a two-and-a-half-minute ride that's almost guaranteed to trigger reactions within us, and it allows us to believe that the movie experience will be as exciting and fulfilling as the ad we're consuming.

• And I think it's that we're used to them, and that we're also used to holding contradictory beliefs that sometimes influence each other in ways we're not fully aware of at the time. We know trailers are deceptive and misleading, but we also know they're crafted to be entertaining, and we want to be entertained. We want so much to transform the feeling of "that was a good trailer" into "that movie looks good" that we do it without thinking. We can know, deep down, that trailers are lies, and we'll still eagerly watch them in hopes of copping a buzz of excitement for something new. We know we're being sold a bill of goods, but we're still happy to buy. We're weird.