Many times when I write a blog, I think about the brands that have become mainstays in my life — so much so that they are easy to overlook. These brands are those that I trust implicitly.
Saving myself from getting too heady about the psychology of brands, I’ll cut to the chase. Last night, in an epiphanic moment, I realized that Rotten Tomatoes has become one of those brands for me.
I like to consider myself a bit of a film snob. I love the classics, especially David Lean’s catalog. But Rotten Tomatoes is one siphon I wield when deciding whether or not a new flick is going to be worth my time and money.
Any time I feel that a film preview looks exciting, I look to its coterie of reviews on Rotten Tomatoes. I want to know if the film is fresh: that is, any film earning a consensus rating of 60% of better by film critics. Personally, I want to see anything in the 80% approval rating or higher (I do have my standards.) Anything below 60% is considered a “rotten tomato.” Based on this scale, I don’t waste my time on any film that’s rotten.
Yet, the story here isn’t about the Rotten Tomato rating scale (though that is one facet that has caused trust the site), rather, it’s how it has carved a niche in my life. It’s about how I rely on the site completely to do a particular job, and it meets my expectations without fail. The consistency to which it has come through for me makes it a mainstay in my life.
Great brands become an extension of who you believe you are. I believe I am someone with discerning taste. Rotten Tomatoes is indeed one of those brands for me.