PRODUCER’S PERSPECTIVE Ken Davenport, Broadway Producer, Off-Broadway, Theater

Ticketmaster tackles the subject of their fees, on their brand new blog.

There's a new voice in the theatrical blogosphere.

And it has a market cap of over a billion buckaroos.

The recently merged Ticketmaster unveiled their own blog a couple of weeks ago, written by their very own CEO, "Nathan" (he signed the blog by his first name only).  Their first (and so far only) post begins with the sentence, "We get it - you don't like service fees."

Master-of-the-Nation (my pet name for the new company formed by the Ticketmaster/LiveNation merger) continues to explain that they are going to use their blog to help educate the consumer on the fact and fiction of e-commerce, how fees are going to be presented in the future, and why the fees are what they are (news flash: that billion dollar market cap has something to do with it).

While they're a little late to the explanation party, I gotta give props for their desire to shed a little light on their world, and for the changes they are about to implement, which are a direct response to the comments they've heard from their consumers (they have frightening data demonstrating the drop-off-rate when a customers sees those fees).

But the line that made me fall in love was this . . . 

This [new] user experience mirrors what you see across the web from leaders in their field – Amazon, Apple, Expedia, Zappos and more. It’s not complicated, it’s just the right thing to do.

We are the leader in the industry, and so we are accountable for taking the initiative to drive industry change. We take that responsibility very seriously, and at the new Ticketmaster we wake up every day obsessing over the fan experience. We think this change is a big step toward creating pricing transparency that is good for fans, and thus good for business. 

Kudos, MotN.  I look forward to seeing how you will continue to think of the consumer first, and market cap second.

Now, the only other thing that Nathan has to learn right now is that a blog needs to be updated more than once every week. 

Come on.  You've got googles of stuff to talk about.  Give us some regular content, already?  

It's not that hard.  

To read the full Ticketmaster statement on their Ticketology blog, click here.

The cost/benefit analysis of DIY or "Hold the tomatoes!"

For this post, we go back to one of my fave lunch spots, the Cafe Europa, home of the guys who say "To go" when you've already told them so.

This time, it's about tomatoes. 

I hate 'em . . . so I used to tell the sandwich guys to remove them from my pre-fabbed Classic Italian. 

And then I'd have to deal with them lookin' at me funny, and then watch as they pulled apart the bread, and plucked the tomatoes off themselves.  

One day I realized that I was better off just doing it myself, back in the comfort of my office.  I could do it faster, and also ensure that there wasn't even one little disgusting t-seed left to infect the rest of the sandwich.

I did it myself.

Broadway has always been a very specialized industry.  There are few providers for our specific services.  And those providers have been able to charge, well, almost anything they want.

We're just starting to emerge from the naive, Kool-Aid-induced haze that had us believing there were only a few people who could do the jobs that we needed them to do.  We're finding that there are vendors all over the country, and all over the world, that can accomplish similar tasks, and often at much cheaper prices.

We're just starting to join the DIY revolution.

I'm a huge supporter of folks DIYing their way to success.  Done right, you can save money, and learn about whatever you're DIYing in the process.  Teach a man to fish, and you've got an all-you-can-eat sushi bar in your backyard!

Will you sacrifice some expertise?  Could you sacrifice some time?  Could you screw up?  Yes.  

So it's up to you to calculate the risk quotient of taking on a task that you wouldn't normally take on. 

Here's the $ equation.

X = Cost of Expert Vendor
Y = Cost New Vendor or Yourself
Z = Your potential loss if you f' it up.

If X > (Y + Z), then you should have hired the Expert in the first place.

But, flip that alligator mouth around, and you've made out on this deal, and learned something to save you even more in the future.

You can't just be a guerrilla DIY guy.  You have to consider all the options.  The experts out there are experts for a reason.  And there are times when you need them on your team.  

But that doesn't mean you shouldn't take off your own tomatoes every once in a while.  

I'll admit it. I love Daughtry. But not for the reason you think.

Daughtry is one of the most successful American Idol contestants to date.

And he (and his publicity peeps) are also some of the smartest.

Actually, what I'm about to describe ain't brain surgery.  It's pretty simple, actually, yet so many Producers in so many industries don't take it into account when releasing a new product.

It's called . . . ti . . . timing.

Guess what Daughtry's new single is called?

I'll give you a hint.  What month comes after August, before October, and starts this Wednesday?

That's right, back-to-schoolers.  It's called "September," and the song is a slow jam that captures the end-of-summer blues perfectly.

The song is on Daughtry's 2009 album Leave This Town, but "September" wasn't released as a single until this June, which gave it just enough time to ramp up to the charts by mid-July, and now peak with serious radio play just two days away from the song's namesake.

And if you don't think that this release was planned like, well, brain surgery, then I've got a show for you to invest in that involves a murdering moose.

Releasing a product, or debuting a show, is not like investing in the stock market.  We should time our market.  We already have data that suggests when your best chances for a Tony nom are, right?  There are, no doubt, specific times of the year when your show will attract a wider audience. 

It's up to you to determine the right time for your show.  It may not be as obvious as opening Elf around Xmas, or releasing "September" around September, so make sure you spend some time trying to get into your audience's specific frame of mind.

And then pray there's a theater available at the same time.

Oh, and I do really like Daughtry.  He's a cool version of Nickelback, so what's not to like?  Come on, watch this video below.  Tell me it's not a good song.  

Now, if only he'd write a musical . . .

Paging Dr. House to the theater . . . stat.

I love me some House.

Maybe it's because he reminds me a bit of my Dad (Dad's a doctor who admittedly has been a bit nasty to a few nurses in his day).

Or maybe it's because I like his style . . . it reminds me of how a great marketer works.

When House has a new patient presenting symptoms, he treats with the broadest and least invasive techniques first . . . then he stands back and watches how the body responds.  If that doesn't cure the ailment, he tries something a bit more creative.  And if that doesn't work, he goes at it with something totally different.  And if that doesn't work, he tries something else, and so on, and so on, until he finally cracks it and save the poor bleeding bastard's life.

When a great marketer gets a new show, they usually start with a broader advertising campaign that features the tried and true techniques that have worked for the most shows.  After that launch,  he watches how the market responds.  If the initial launch doesn't work, he tries something different.  And if that doesn't work, he tries something else, and so on, and so on, and so on, until the right medicine stops the bleeding at the box office. 

No two shows are alike.  And just because one treatment or plan doesn't work, doesn't mean another won't.  The point is to keep trying.  Keep coming up with ideas.  And if you've gotta go experimental, then go for it.  

Because if theater means as much to you as it does to me, then keeping a show going may not be life or death, but it sure feels pretty close, doesn't it?

6 Things I learned at 6 Flags.

Yesterday, my office staff and about 40 other folks from the shows that we're working on right now took a bus down to Jackson, NJ for the 4th Annual Davenport Theatrical retreat to Six Flags.

I've used the Broadway-show-is-like-a-thrill-ride simile before, so on this trip I tried to find some more specific things that all of us in the theater could learn from this pillar of an amusement park.

Here's what I picked up:

1. Make everyone on your staff a marketer.

When I stepped through the entrance turnstile, the ticket-taker tore my ticket and then said, "Ride El Toro!"  Then she said the same thing to the person behind me.  And to the person behind them.  

When I grabbed a good but expensive chicken sandwich, the lunch lady put my sandwich on the tray and said, "Check out The Dark Knight!"

The management of 6 Flags have turned their entire staff into marketers pushing their own product.  Why can't we do the same thing?  

Could shows buddy up and have their respective ushers pitching the other show?  Imagine an usher seating a family at Lion King and saying, "2 seats off the aisle.  Enjoy the show and check out Mary Poppins on your next trip to NYC!"  Or what about box office personnel suggesting to stop by the merch stand, or even the bar.  We've got people.  They've got voices.  We should (be able to) use them.  

2. It's not what you win, it's that you play a game.

Does anyone really want a giant stuffed banana?  Or a Batgirl cape?  The prizes at the carny game booths are crap, but that doesn't stop people from playing. Because it's not about the prize.  It's about the contest.  For what people spend on these games, you could BUY any of the prizes!  I spent $30 trying to get a plastic red ring around a bottle top, for you-know-who's sake.  I don't even remember what I was trying to win!  

Maybe that's why "Sign up to win free tickets" isn't as effective as we all want it to be.  More effective would be "Sink this putt for a chance to win free tickets."  People love to play, and they lust to compete, and they don't even care what for. 

(I won the Batgirl cape, by the way)

3.  Get 'em to take photos, and they'll have something to talk about.

Enter the park, and there's someone there ready to take your picture.  Exit any ride, and they snapped your picture.  Throw up in the bushes?  Most likely they've got in on film.

They've even got folks roaming around like the guy in the show above, reminding you to check out "your photos."

Why?  Yes, because they sell them and make bank.

But also because they know that each souvenir photo that goes home is literally 'captured fun', bound to inspire the desire to return upon each look.

I'd put a photo booth in my lobby if I could, or even have a floating photog in the audience.  

4.  Use your assets to advertise.

Something new at the Flags this year were the branded roller coasters and the outdoor advertising for other products.  Gum, hair products, candy bars, and more were being pitched to me all day.  (FYI, I only remember Snickers . . . the others brands are a loss to me, and I STARE at advertising . . . sorry, guys).  

I'm certainly not suggesting we turn our theaters into minor league baseball stadiums, but there has to be ways we can use our assets to advertise other products (or our own) and offset some of our expenses.  

Google AdWords, affiliate links, etc. are non-invasive ways to generate some income on your show's websites.  As long as you're not pushing people away from your shows, there is a way to make some additional money.

5.  Small crowds don't pay less.

It rained yesterday . . . which means smaller crowds, less lines, and . . . unfortunately, less staff.  Look, I get it.  Reduce the staff if your revenue is reduced.  But unfortunately, they went a bit too far, and our experience was not as dynamic and exciting had it been a sunshiny day.  

Just because we were weatherly challenged, doesn't mean we shouldn't get all 6 Flags.  We got about 4.  And they're paying, because I just told the whole world wide web about it.

This one is for all the actors out there.  I remember what it's like looking out at an audience with only a handful of people in it.  I once did You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown to 7 people.  Yes, there were more of us on stage.  

It ain't easy, but those 7 people deserve the same show as the houses that have 700.  

6.  The Premium Premium ticket. 

I'm a big believer in the pay-for-play Flash Pass system that allows you to jump the line and plan your day better.  And I'm happy to pay for it. Six Flags has obviously been taking lessons from Gordon Gekko, because this year they added another level to their Flash Pass:  Platinum.  Obviously they had seen enough traction on the Gold level, that they added another level to nudge some people up.  And it worked.  There were no lines, yesterday, and yet the woman next to me had to have Platinum . . . even though the woman selling her the pass advised her not to get it.  

There is always someone who wants to fly first class.  Coming up with a high-roller ticketing option might be a way to get a few more dollars from a few more people with very little effort.

Broadway is not a theme park.  And it should never be.  But that doesn't mean we can't learn from what the parks do well, and what they don't, in order to make our world the happiest and most profitable place on earth. 

How do you sell the rear mezzanine and balcony tickets, by The Shubes.

No, I'm sorry, The Shubes are not a Tubes tribute band. 

The Shubes are the Shuberts aka The Shubert Organization, which runs Shubert Ticketing aka Telecharge.  And with that comes a treasure trove of data that covers the last, oh, HUNDRED years of the habits of theatergoers.

In an incredibly generous effort to help all of us sell more tickets to our shows, over the last year, The Shubes have opened up their data vaults and provided the industry with their analysis of complex ticketing issues.

I've featured all of their previous reports on the blog, and I've gotten tremendous feedback from all of you.  So, here is their latest, uncensored and unedited.  It asks that difficult question of how to get rid of your unsold inventory in your least desirable locations.  Since we all know that our customers want the best seats in the house, how do we get rid of the not-so-best seats in the house?

Here's what they have to say.  Just remember, data is only powerful if you use it. Otherwise, it's just a bunch of numbers on a page.

Hit it, Shubes!
 

How Do You Sell the Rear Mezzanine and Balcony?

One answer to this question is, to paraphrase an old Steve Martin joke: First sell all of the orchestra and front mezzanine seats; then sell the rear mezzanine and balcony seats. Sounds easy, right? Whether you remember the joke (it had to do with making a million dollars and paying no taxes), that pretty much sums up our industry's strategy for selling the back of the theatre. And this "sell everything else first" strategy would work, if customers never walked away because of location or price, and if we always had enough walk-up business to fill the theatre. But that doesn't happen, and depending on this approach is why we don't always sell all of the rear mezzanine and balcony seats. 

• On average, shows sell more than 35% of their tickets on discounts other than TKTS or TDF.
  
  
• For Shubert theaters (July 2009 - June 2010), there were 130,000 tickets sold on marketing codes in the rear mezzanine and balcony totaling $7.3 million in sales.  54% of those were on the web.  Average price paid was $56.
  
  
• 40% of the full price sales at the box office are typically rear mezzanine or balcony.

There are customers for different price points; some people want the best seats, while others are more concerned about price. How well do we service these price-conscious customers? We assume customers are motivated enough to see a show that they'll make the effort to check out our prices, so we do not list them anywhere on the shows' websites. We require the customer to make additional clicks to search for ticket prices. Are we following the old axiom for selling luxury goods, "if you have to ask you can't afford it?" One of the only places we actually list prices is in email discounts, but even there, many shows only list the discounted top price. What if a customer is willing to see the show but is looking for a price point closer to $40, $50 or $60? How do they find out there is a price that suits their needs? 

One common problem with marketing codes is many shows do not program the entire theatre on the code. In theatres on the Star System, customers using a marketing code must visit a separate website, Broadwayoffers.com. This is to avoid advertising the availability of discounts to all of the full price customers on Telecharge.com, especially since it so easy nowadays to do a Google search on "Broadway discounts." When using a code on BroadwayOffers, customers are only shown the prices that have been programmed on that offer, so if the rear mezzanine and balcony are not programmed on the code, those sections will not be viewable and cannot be sold on that offer. 

And those discount codes account for a significant percentage of sales. On average, nearly 40% of all tickets are sold at a discount (separate from TKTS or TDF). If the rear mezzanine and balcony are not programmed on a discount code, they will not be available to sell to the 40% of the customers using a code. In the year ending June 30, 2010, 130,000 tickets were sold for $7.3M on marketing codes in Shubert theatres in the rear mezzanine and balcony. Of those tickets, 54% were sold on the web, 32% at the box office and 14% were on the phones. 

We all know there are a lot of price sensitive customers. At the box office, where the customer can clearly see the ticket prices, it's common for less expensive tickets to account for two-fifths of the full price. There are many possible reasons for this. It could be recession-driven frugality or the reality of orchestra seats at $125 or higher. It's quite possible that price sensitive customers buy at the box office, or that tourists who buy last minute are more price sensitive than those who buy in advance. Either way, most shows cannot afford any lost sales. The best way to counteract this problem is to make sure that marketing codes are programmed for all sections of the house. In addition, the lowest prices available should be listed on emails and bulletin board postings, even if there is no discount on the lowest price seats. This will increase the opportunities for customers who are especially concerned about ticket price to find seats that work within their budgets, and that is how we can sell more of the rear mezzanine and balcony.  

5 Things I learned from King Tut.

I fell prey to the ton of marketing being done for King Tut in Times Square last week, and headed on down to 43rd Street to check out what treasures the exhibitors had in store for me.

Although it may not seem like it, exhibits like King Tut are forms of live entertainment, shrouded in education.  These are multi-million dollar productions with big capitalizations, operating costs, and marketing challenges.  In other words, they have to be produced.

So, as I explored the life of King Tut, I also tried to find some gold coins of wisdom that I could apply to what we do.

Here are 5 things I learned from King Tut:

1.  It's not the size of your pyramid.  It's how you use it.

The priceless treasures of the Tut exhibit are currently sitting in . . . a basement.  The producers of the exhibit found a non-traditional venue, and with some smart designers, turned it into a theater fit for a king.  If you can't find the perfect space for your show, make it.  

2.  You can't touch the mummy.  But you can wear his t-shirt.

Man, are these guys good at merch.  They get your photo taken on the way in and show it to you on the way out (I almost bought mine . . . they photoshopped pyramids behind me, for Pharaoh's sake!).  Just like the theme parks!  And you can't get out of the building without walking through their super-sized shop of Tut toys and trinkets.  Merch is a science, not a hobby.  It can help pay for your play. (Remind me to tell you about the time a Company Manager friend of mine paid his load-out crew on a flop with cash from the merch till.  When the cash ran out, the crew ran out.  Oh, wait, I guess I just told you about it.  You don't have to remind me anymore.)

3.  Got your ticket?  Good, now, it's just a couple more bucks for this.

During the check-out process, I got pitched a $5 add-on movie called Mummies.  And it was in 3D!  Just like Avatar!  What's another $5, I thought, since I already dropped $40, and for something that sounded so cool!  In reality, it wasn't that cool, but what did I know until I got there.  And, at only $5, there wasn't much remorse.  Once you've got a customer on the hook, getting them to pay for just a little bit more isn't too difficult, if you ask.  Tacking on an extra isn't tacky, especially when it makes the entire experience better.

4.  Egyptians can wear funny hats too.

This is a monumental exhibit.  It's educational.  It's important.  And it also knows not to take itself too seriously, evident by the King Tut street team that's been flyering Times Square wearing King Tut headdresses.  You can't help but smile when you see one, and that's not a bad thought to have when considering an entertainment option.  On top of that, the Tut mask is so well branded that the flyer guy can make the impression on the passerby even without handing them a flyer.  This street team strategy reminded me of the Princess Leia/Carrie Fisher team that brilliantly wore those bun-wigs while they were on the street promoting Wishful Drinking.  The best street teams think every day is Halloween.

5.  King Tut was a teen, and no one cared.

I get a lot of young folks emailing me saying that they are too young to produce, that they could never get a show up at their age.  Well, King Tut was 9 when he was crowned and 19 when he died.  In that time, he changed the entire Egyptian God structure (which had been set by his father), restored diplomatic relations with neighboring peoples, and married his half-sister.  Ok, ok, so he was born into some money.  I'm not saying you have to produce a pyramid, but age hasn't nothing to do with what you do, unless you let it.  

There's nothing worse than losing when you should win.

I play chess.

I have since I was a kid.  My dad taught me.

I gave it up for a while, but I got re-bit by the bug when I saw Falsettos on Broadway in the mid 90s (the show features so many numbers about the game, the United States Chess Federation should have sponsored it).

I'm a decent player.  As decent as someone who loves to multi-task and has mild ADD can be in a game that requires your utmost concentration for long stretches of time.

The thing about chess is that in the first few moves of every game, you can tell if your opponent is going to be a formidable one or not.  Which pawns do they move?  What about those knights?  Do they try to control the center?  

If they don't follow any of the classic, by-the-book opening routines, you know that they are weak players.

Here's what happens with me:

When I see a player make a few moves that indicate a lower-level of play, I get sloppy.  I write them off.  I think I don't have to pay attention.  It's going to be an easy win, right?  Why work so hard?

And that's exactly when I end up hanging my queen.

This doesn't only happen in chess.  It happens everywhere, including business, Broadway, and life . . . where the stakes are much, much higher.

There is no easy show.  There is no sure thing.  Every show you do requires your "A" game. 

And if you don't want to give it, then you shouldn't sit down at the table to play.

The two big Os in marketing.

My two favorite forms of media to buy in today's theatrical market are . . . 

Online 

and

Outdoor.

The problem with that second O, is that it's expensiv-o in the heart of the city, where all those potential theatergoers swarm.  Seems a bit unfair that we have to pay the same price for those big billboards as Tide or Levi's, which are available to the purchaser all over the world, as o-pposed to Broadway, which is available . . . well . . . only on Broadway.

That's why I couldn't help but wonder why more of us don't try to make deals on available outdoor opportunities like the one in this picture.

What about approaching the real estate companies and asking for signage in unrented storefronts?  They're sitting there, making no money for someone . . . why not give them some earning potential in the meantime?

Or what about mural billboards on available brick walls?

Or instead of leaving the signage of closed shows up on theater marquees, putting signage up for other shows in the same theater chain?

The best Producers I know don't just buy whatever their agency or media company is selling.  The best Producers I know look for something that people haven't thought of yet.

The best Producers I know look for the third "O" of marketing . . . new Opportunities.

Go where others haven't gone before.  Consider yourself an explorer, like Magellan or Ponce de Leon.

Because when you do discover some New World of Media, or new anything for that matter, it'll feel . . . well . . . (cough, cough) . . . O-tastic.

How many of you save your Broadway ticket stubs?

I saved them all.

When I was younger, I'd get my Playbill, and that ticket stub (which is no longer a stub, thanks to ticketing scanners) would go right in the middle.

Full embarrassing disclosure: when I was in high school, I used to take the cover of my Playbills, the ticket stubs, and a few choice photos from inside the Playbill, and I'd create a poor-man's decoupage that I framed and put on my nightstand.  I guess my hope was that they would help all of my Broadway dreams come true.  (My Secret Garden Playbill/photo combo even had an autograph from Daisy Eagan!)

Ok, so I was a lonely kid . . . but it was pretty obvious what I was going to do when I grew up.

This post isn't about my awkward youth (there isn't enough space on the entire internet for me to go into that), but rather that ticket . . . which for me, and for so many of you, I bet . . . was a souvenir.

And a souvenir is merch . . . and merch is marketing.

The ticket as a souvenir is slowly but surely disappearing as we transition to e-ticketing, and eventually mobile ticketing technology (having the ticketing scanners scan an image on your phone itself, which requires no paper product at all).

And as much as I'm a huge fan of this technology (and of all technology), it's going to take us a long time to adopt it.

Why?

• We're always slow to adopt technology.
• Our customers like hard tickets.

While hanging out at the booth last week, I watched a woman turn to another and say, "Did you get 'em?"  Her friend smiled, then fanned out five Billy Elliot tickets like a winning poker hand.  They both literally screamed with joy.  Now imagine what it would have been like if she showed her friend a UPC image on her phone.

Wah-wah.

Broadway tickets still have a Willy Wonka "Golden Ticket" effect that we don't want to disappear too soon.  

They are a tangible passport to entertainment that can create a positive emotional response about our product . . . whether or not you choose to frame it. 

- - - - -

UPDATE:  Two days after I wrote this blog, it was announced that New York State became the first state in the nation to pass a law requiring paper tickets. To read more about it, click here.