Subliminal advertising has always been a hot spot in the media. While there are those who think that using hidden messages in order to sway people is nothing short of brainwashing (an opinion usually shared by the general public) there are those who believe it is a harmless means of ‘convincing’ people towards certain issues. The first known experiment on subliminal messages occurred in 1956, when a special projector was installed in a New Jersey movie theatre. During a six-week period, patrons were reportedly exposed to two advertising messages projected subliminally on the screen during the regular presentation of the motion picture Picnic.

The words "Drink Coca-Cola" and "Hungry? Eat Popcorn" were flashed on the screen every five seconds at the subliminal level of 1/3000th of a second. It is reported that the sale of popcorn and Coca-Cola increased as a result of this simulation.

A funnier variant of this story happened here in the UK on a daily tabloid. An unnamed hack, writing his last editorial at the Daily Express newspaper carefully crafted his article on organic farming so that the first letter of every sentence spelt out F*CK YOU DESMOND, in reference to the paper’s owner, Richard Desmond.

All very enlightening I’m sure you’ll agree, bringing us quite neatly onto the subject of the film Josie And The Pussycats, a 21st century update of the 1970s comic book and, more importantly, a phony satire of the MTV generation that carefully tip-toes around its mockery of the pop music industry and the underhand tactics employed by those who run the show, so as not to offend its target audience - the very same sheep-like teenagers at whom it pokes fun.

From the moment when boy band DuJour break into a saucy number entitled, er, ‘Backdoor Lover’, it’s clear that we’re in cheese factor 11 territory. When friction between the pretty boy quintet leads to their ‘mysterious’ disappearance, record company exec Wyatt (a slimy Alan Cumming) is ordered by his scheming boss, Fiona (Parker Posey), to find a new bunch of wannabe musicians to manipulate leading him to stumble upon wannabe rock chicks Josie, Melody and Valerie (Rachael Leigh Cook, Tara Reid and Rosario Dawson respectively). After what seems like halfway through their 15 minutes of fame, they quickly become the next big thing, but it’s only when they begin to question the rapidity of their rise to the top that Wyatt and Fiona’s motives become all too clear.

It seems the record industry and the US government are in cahoots to brainwash America's youth by controlling there spending habits through hidden messages in songs. Why would they do that, I hear you all sigh. To keep the economy afloat, of course, because as we all know, teenagers have nothing else to spend their money on except clothes and food. It's a shame, then, that what sounds like a promising idea for a plethora of clever-clever digs at orthodoxy is negotiated in such a cheap and cheerful manner.

The films major flaw is that for all of its holier-than-thou preaching, it actually falls into its own cynical trap. Co-writers/directors Deborah Kaplan and Harry Elfont clearly think they are mocking the concept of commercialism by going into overkill with the product placement. Whole rooms are designed in order to display brand names and retail goods, while numerous montage sequence bring us everything from Motorola to McDonald’s to Evian and back again. No doubt the helming duo intended this style to be tongue-in-cheek, but for all of their scoffing it’s readily apparent that the product placement in Josie is simply there to sell the very brand names they are trying to disparage. In fact, save for the first 15 minutes and a few music video sequences, Josie and the Pussycats is almost nothing but product placement and pimping of tie-in merchandise.

The plot fares little better, because when we are given a breather from all the Target names, it wavers all over the place. What starts as a hammy pastiche of films such as Spice World suddenly goes into overdrive, with characters explaining away their importance to the plot with lines such as “I'm here because I was in the comic book”; numerous asides aimed directly to the camera; never-ending sequences which are so OTT, in both the acting and directing, they look as though Leslie Nielsen paid a flying visit to the set, and by and large a feel that halfway through the editing procedure someone else took over the helm and decided to induce the whole thing with cheap and pointless gags that go nowhere.

The characters fare little better too, consisting merely of clichéd afterthoughts. Cook is the influential band leader who becomes central to the whole ‘mass hypnosis’ plan; Reid plays the ditzy drummer who thinks the world is a great place; and Dawson is the (gasp) sceptic who doubts those around her right from the start. Cummings is so sleazy that the only thing he doesn’t have is a twirly moustache, while Posey – who should know a lot better than this – is a lisping egocentric out to get what she can from the sycophantic masses. Ho and, indeed, hum.

Yeah yeah, the music is certainly fun (the films only one true saving grace is that it does indeed boast some pretty catchy tunes from the band - the soundtrack is, of course, available in a store near you), and the girls look great, but this is all hindered by the most elementary filmmaking, the lamest running gags and the most trite, simplistic themes imaginable. Rather than being laughably spoof-like, Josie And The Pussycats is simply a confusing, confusing film, one great big industry in-joke that shamefully fails to allow anyone in on the gag.

The simple fact of the matter is, Kaplan and Elfont are not talented enough to make a film as ambitious as this succeed. The jokes are flat (even to the point of making the obvious double-entendre during its opening credits), and the basic theme is as vapid a concept as possible, mainly because it’s so contrived that it just can’t be funny. Cook and co do as good a job as they can with the soulless material and stilted dialogue, with Posey and Cummings just about emerging with their integrity intact given their thankless roles and the frankly appalling ‘revelations’ they spout during the films diabolical ending that does indeed include the words “I love you, I always have”.

It’s a telling sign of the films own desperation when it tries to incorporate its own form of subliminal messaging as a means of smilingly justifying the 90 minute advertisement is has become (an idea, by the way, that has already been used in Return Of The Killer Tomatoes and Wayne’s World) during the finale in which we are told “Josie And The Pussycats is the best film ever”.

No guys, it’s not. Josie And The Pussycats wasn’t the best film of last summer. Hell, it’s only just about the best film in Rachael Leigh Cook’s career. And given that her CV includes She’s All That, Antitrust and Blow Dry, that’s every bit the backhanded compliment it sounds.


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