About 18 months ago, Frito-Lay introduced a TV ad in which
animated versions of Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head eat potato chips, knowing full
well that it is a form of cannibalism but reveling in the guilty sin.
In the original spot, Mr. Potato Head gets home from work and can’t
find his wife anywhere. He hears a strange crackle and then another. He follows
the sounds until he sees his wife hiding in a room with a bag of Lay’s potato
chips, munching away. She is suitably embarrassed at what amounts to an act of
cannibalism, but the commercial explains that the chips are so delicious that
they are irresistible. The last shot shows Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head snacking
on the chips with a look of mischievous glee on their faces—they know they are
doing a naughty thing, but it just doesn’t matter.
Frito-Lay is flooding the airwaves with the Potato Head cannibal
spots for the holiday season. More recent spots include one in which Mr. Potato
Head dons a disguise to buy enough potato chips to satisfy everyone at Times
Square on New Year’s Eve and another in which the Potato Head couple hides in
the bushes.
All these spots remind me of Jean-Luc Godard’s masterpiece,
“Weekend,” at the end of which the main female character sucks on a bone from a
stew prepared by the revolutionary who has forcibly made her his concubine.
“What is it we’re eating?” she asks, to which the punky gangster answers, “Your
husband.” She has the last line of the movie: “Not bad…” and then keeps gnawing
on the bone.
In all the Potato Head commercials, at one point the Mrs. slowly
and erotically pulls a chip from the bag, brings it to her lips and
suggestively swallows it. This simple action conveys the type of irresistible
sexuality that often informs transgressive acts. Moreover, it suggests that the
potato chip is an upscale product to be savored like expensive dark chocolate.
The sexual overtone underscores the ad’s attempt to add value to the potato
chip, since the audience is used to seeing sex sell luxury products. Note, too,
that the slow, sensual approach to potato-chip eating modeled by Mrs. Potato
Head does not correspond to the non-stop nibbling people usually associate with
the chip.
The real transgressive act committed by avid consumers of potato
chips is against their own bodies. The chips have almost no nutritional value
and are loaded down with salt. The ease at which one can consume a large number
of chips while watching a game, or playing one, helps to implicate chips of all
sorts in the obesity crisis faced by the United States and the rest of the
industrialized world.
That cannibalism would serve as the stand-in to overeating junk
food says a lot about the values of current American society. Eating another being of your own species is
generally considered to be an abomination. Although the Potato Heads are not
humans, they are stand-ins for humans with human emotions and aspirations, just
like the various mice, ducks, rabbits, dogs, foxes, lions and other animals we
have anthropomorphized since the beginning of recorded history. From Aesop and
Wu Cheng’en to Orwell and Disney, authors have frequently used animals as
stand-ins for humans in fairy tales, satires and children’s literature.
So when Mrs. Potato Head eats a potato, it’s an overt
representation of cannibalism—humans eating other humans.
The advertiser is trying to make fun of transgression, to
diminish the guilt that many on a diet or watching their weight might feel
noshing on potato chips.
But behind the jokiness of a potato eating a potato chip stands
more than the idea that it’s okay for humans to snack on chips. The implication
in having a potato playing at human eating other potatoes is that we are allowed to do anything transgressive, even
cannibalism—everything is okay, as long as it leads to our own pleasure.
The end-game of such thinking is that our sole moral compass should be our own
desires.
Thus the Lay’s Potato Head commercial expresses an extreme form
of the politics of selfishness, the Reaganistic dictate that everyone should be
allowed to pursue his or her own best interests without the constraint of
society. Like the image of the vampire living on the blood of humans or of the
“Purge” series of movies in which people are allowed any violent action one
night a year, the Potato Head family eating other potatoes that have first been
dried, processed, bathed in chemicals, extruded and baked symbolizes and
justifies what the 1% continues to do to the rest of the population.
And it’s a happy message, too! We don’t get the sense that
it’s a “dog-eat-dog world in which you have to eat or be eaten.” No, Lay’s
presents the gentle Reagan version: you can do anything you like to fill your
selfish desires (no matter whom it hurts).
The Mr. Potato Head cannibalism commercial offers a fable about
the relationship between the haves and the have-nots, or in this case—those who
eat and those who are eaten. The fabulist is interested in selling products and
making consumers feel good about the process of consumption, even when it is
transgressive. Some may call it an overturning of traditional morality. I
call it business as usual in a post-industrial consumer society.
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