The Man with No Shame - a Western story

Your brand is the story you want to tell to the world – whether it’s for your business or yourself. Or even your country.

Everything I know about advertising I learnt from the movies #12

As advertisers we are storytellers, if only in a small way. As such, we need to create stories that resonate with and reflect the values and beliefs of our audiences, of the society in which we live.

Stories – whether they are in an ad, a song, a book or a Hollywood movie - that do, are the ones contain a truth. That help to define who we are.

As well as writing for advertising, in my spare time I also enjoy writing for film: screenplays. And with movies one of my first love was Westerns. As I kid I would stay up late with my dad watching age-inappropriate Spaghetti Westerns. Made by Italians, in Spain, these brutal tales were part of an enduring mythology of America, as The Man With no Name rode broodingly into town, to protect the poor townsfolk from tyranny and oppression. But times have changed. So, I’ve had an idea for a script for a new movie: a “revisionist” Western for the second quarter of the twenty-first century.

It goes something like this:

A small town in with Wild West is being terrorised by a powerful outlaw gang, led by its vicious and cunning leader. Let’s call him, El Puto. The sheriff of the town and the menfolk are doing their very best to defend their homes and families from continuing aggression, but after years of rape, murder and destruction, they are struggling to survive. Until one day a tall stranger rides into town.

The townsfolk peer nervously from behind their net curtains as he rides past, and dismounts outside the town saloon. Could this be the man they’ve heard of, who has saved other towns from similar aggression? They hardly dare hope.

As he ties up his horse, the Sheriff comes out of the jailhouse to greet him. “Howdy pardner,” he says. “What brings you into town?”

“Just passin’ through,” replies the Man.

The Sheriff has also heard of this man, and dares to hope too.

“Can you help us?” he asks.

“And how might I do that?” the man replies.

The Sheriff proceeds to tell him the sorry tale of tragedy and woe, and how they need the help of someone strong to fight with them, because they can no longer do it alone.

The Man sucks on his dirty cheroot, squints his eyes and says, “And what’s in it for me?”

“You’ll be able to hold your head up high knowing you have saved the lives of men, women and children, and helped bring peace to the West.”

The Man sucks on his cheroot again, then says, “But, like I said, what’s in it for me?”

The Sheriff is distraught and dismayed, lost for words.

The Man turns his head and looks across at the entrance to the town’s mine.

“I heard you got yourselves some gold here,” he says.

“That’s true mister,” says the Sheriff. “It’s not much, but enough to ensure the future prosperity of this town, to provide a good honest living and help us raise our families.”

“How about, for my troubles, you give half of the gold you got.”

“But, but…” splutters the Sheriff, “but then we would hardly be able to support our families, and everything we’ve worked so hard to build will be lost.”

“Well, you soon won’t have any families left to support,” says the Man. "So, I guess I'll be moving on then."

As he tips his hat and turns back to his horse, the Sheriff says, “Wait.”

An hour later the town’s people gather in the streets to watch the Man ride off in the direction of El Puto’s camp. They might have lost much of their future, but at least they will still have one

The next day, the Man appears again on the horizon and slowly rides back into town, as the people rush out into the street to meet him, led by the Sheriff.

“Well,” says the Sheriff, “Did you, did you…”

“Kill them?” says the man.

The Sherriff nods, as the people hold their breath. 

“No. I talked to them,” says the Man.

“You talked to them?” asks the Sheriff, incredulously.

“Yeah,” says the Man.

“And what did they say?’ asks the Sheriff, now with a lump in his throat.

“They said, that I could still have half of your gold, without doing any killing,” says the man.

“But how?” asks the Sheriff, shaking now.

The Man just turns his head, and all the other heads follow. At first, they see nothing. There is only a sound: the growing thunder of horse hooves and gunshots. A swarm of figures on horseback then appears over the ridge and bears down on the town.

The people scatter and hide, leaving the Sheriff standing alone and defiant in the street, as Hell descends.

As the town burns, the Man with No Shame rides off into the sunset, his saddlebags stuffed with gold. He turns back to see a plume of smoke rising from the steeple of the little wooden church, smiles to himself and continues on.

Is that a story you’d like to see? Is it one that most Americans believe would define who they are? Hopefully not, but as a brand, it’s the story that America is telling right now.

And, like the town, that brand is burning.