Ricardo Montalbán, corporate shill.
If you are part of the under-20 set, the guy who played the Spy Kids grandpa just died. If you’re under 40, Khan’s wrath is a thing of the past. But if you’re 50 or older, Mr. Roarke has welcomed his last guest to Fantasy Island. Or if you’re like me, the phrase “fine Corinthian leather” is one for the history books.
Emmy Award-winning Actor/Corporate Spokesman/SciFi Icon/Groundbreaking Latino actor Ricardo Gonzalo Pedro Montalbán y Merino (a.k.a. “Ricardo Montalbán) died on January 14 (ironically, the same day that another SciFi icon, Patrick McGoohan passed away). If you’re into marketing and advertising, take a moment to ponder the significance of how Montalbán contributed to the history of marketing.
Today, it’s easy to forget what a big deal it was to see Montalbán shilling for Chrysler back in the day. First, a little history (and for those of you paying attention to the American automotive industry today, proof positive that those that do not learn from history are condemned to repeat it):
Chrysler came seriously close to taking a dirt nap back in the late ’70s. The company was a victim of poor managment, bloated labor contracts, bad designs that nobody wanted to buy, and a gas crisis brought on by unrest in the Middle East. (Sound familiar?) Former Ford exec (and spiritual father of the Mustang) Lee Iacocca was brought in as Chairman, and the company dutifully schlepped itself to the halls of Congress to beg for a loan that would allow the company to survive to fight another day. They got it. And Iacocca agreed to take only $1 per year for a salary, until the company could pay the government/taxpayers back. Against the odds, Iacocca not only turned Chrysler around and payed back every nickle borrowed from Uncle Sam, he payed the loan back early.
To accomplish this minor miracle, Iacocca had to pull off some major moves. He slashed models, and had his design team take a basic frame (somewhat of a misnomer – as these cars were among the first to jettison independent frames for unibody construction), and extrapolate it to dozens of models. This so-called “K-car” configuration begat everything from the Dodge Daytona/Chrsyler Laser pocket rocket to the much-copied and much lampooned “Mom-mobile” a.k.a. “The Minivan.” One of Iacocca’s first moves was to take the flagship of the Chrysler line, the Chrysler Imperial, and offer a transferable lifetime warranty on the car. (Think about that. A 1970′s American-made car with a lifetime warranty. A transferable lifetime warranty. Bold move, indeed.)
On the marketing front, Iacocca needed to make a bold statement. He had credibility problems with his product, like Carter had peanuts. His company was caught rolling back odometers. Like the leader he is, he went on offense, offering a no-excuses mea culpa, and moving on. He had products that had been so bad, many leasing companies refused to write leases on them. And he had cars with huge negatives in the perceptions of the buying public.
Iacocca’s bold statement not only helped change perceptions, but helped break a ethnic barier for Latinos everywhere. He hired Ricardo Montalbán as the Chrysler Corporation’s corporate spokesman. Montalbán was familiar to audiences for his Fantasy Island TV show, where he, along with Hervé Villechaize, hosted visitors in search of finding their dreams. Suave and debonair, Montalbán struck just the right chord – sophisticated, yet approachable, masculine and mysterious, he was able to make even the most mundane features sound somehow both desirable and attainable. The phrase “fine Corinthian leather” spoken in his exotic Spanish accent was enough to get buyers into the showroom and plunk down their hard earned cash on a Chrysler Cordoba (although the Anglicized pronunciation of “CorDOba” grated against the ears of anyone who actually spoke Spanish).
It’s one thing to star on a TV show, even back in the day when that meant more, by virtue of the fact that there were only three real national networks out there. It was quite another to have a Captain of Industry hand you the reins of his company’s corporate image and say “make us look good.” And make them look good is exactly what Montalbán did. He almost single-handedly gave Chrysler an imprimatur of sophistication and a veneer of respectability. After all, if a guy as hip and happenin’ as Montalbán would endorse Chrsyler, it couldn’t be bad, could it? Montalbán was possibly the first Latino spokesperson that was chosen, not because he was to be a Latino stereotype, but because he was cool, hip, sophisticated, and appealed to men (as a man’s man) and women (as a heartthrob). Not bad work if you can get it. Montalbán was probably one of only a handful of actors that could have shouldered that burden and pulled it off. He did that, and more.
As these things often do, eventually Chrysler Corp. and Montalbán went their seperate ways. Montalbán went on to fame and SciFi immortalization in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, as the eponymous villain, the wheelchair-bound grandfather in the Spy Kids series, and (my personal fave) as the voice of Señor Senior Sr., the senior member of a father-son (Señor Senior Jr.) villainous team on Disney’s Kim Possible cartoons.
So a tip o’ the marketing hat to Ricardo. Señor Montalbán occupies an important position as a groundbreaker, putting Latinos in position to be not just stars, but economically viable choices to represent entire companies. I’ll bet that busting that particular glass ceiling was a bigger thrill for him than any other role he performed.
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