Somewhere over the french fries, there used to be McDonaldland — a colorful world of funny friends
and fast food. But why did these lovable characters seem to come and go so quickly?
McDonald's first contracted the advertising agency Needham, Harper & Steers to create
the McDonaldland campaign in 1970. The agency contacted Marty Krofft of Sid and Marty Krofft
Productions. The Kroffts were renowned for years as puppeteers for stars like Dean Martin and
Judy Garland. They also created the costumes for Hanna-Barbera's hit Saturday morning TV series,
"The Banana Splits." This led to their own string of memorable fantastical,
outrageous live-action children's shows in the seventies. The Saturday morning successes
included, "Sigmund and the Sea Monsters," "Land of the Lost," "The Bugaloos," "Lidsville," and
their most iconic fantasy series, "H.R. Pufnstuf." The Krofft creatives met with
the McDonald's ad people several times — but months later, the ad agency announced that the
Krofft team's art and engineering plans had been canceled for the McDonald's campaign.
In a treacherous move right out of a "Mad Men" episode, the advertising agency launched the first
McDonaldland TV commercials in 1971 without the Kroffts. They even hired former Krofft employees
to produce them. The Kroffts took the case to court, alleging copyright infringement. What stung
most was the overall similarity to the Krofft's iconic "H.R. Pufnstuf" series. In particular,
there was a character named Mayor McCheese with a giant cheeseburger head and a voice
impersonating comedian Ed Wynn. He was almost a twin of the signature Krofft
character H.R. Pufnstuf, the mayor of Living Island — a magical place like McDonaldland.
"Now see here, my good woman, I'm the mayor – "
"Stand back, you overgrown salamander! You're in my power!"
Mayor McCheese had a cheeseburger on his shoulders instead of a dragon head,
but the resemblance was crystal clear. The infringement proved so evident that the
relatively small Krofft company defeated the mighty McDonald's Corporation in court. Not
only did the Kroffts win the case, but Mayor McCheese was escorted out of McDonaldland.
McDonaldland's most notorious law-breaker was known as the Hamburglar. He had a pale,
pasty face, two teeth, and a large nose. As his name suggests,
he steals fast food from the other McDonaldland citizens.
When the Hamburglar was introduced in the seventies, he spoke in nonsensical gibberish.
[Speaking gibberish]
"This is a train robbery?"
This was simplified into the more familiar "Robble, Robble!". McDonald's soon softened
the character. By the 1980s, he was given a rounder, more boyish face,
and became more of a rascal than a robber. The more cartoonish convict was the one most
familiar to TV viewers of the late twentieth century. He was sent back to lockup in 2002.
In 2015, the Hamburglar was paroled, but in a highly bizarre fashion. He figured prominently
in a McDonald's wannabe viral marketing campaign called "Robble Robble." A young male actor played
a dad with a secret life as the Hamburglar. He flees the suburbs, donning an outfit of
trendy-looking designer stripes, a cool trench coat, the trademark eye mask, and gloves of
his alter ego. The mysterious fellow then turned wisecracking McDonald's patron, sending messages
on his wacky travels. McDonald's hoped that the social media world would follow. Their
idea that a character created for selling fast food to kids could be rebooted as a sly, stylish
adult didn't make the grade. The Hamburglar found himself once again booked at the graybar hotel.
The Hamburglar managed to outlast one of his crafty colleagues in crime,
Captain Crook. According to the "McDonaldland Specification Manual," Captain Crook was part
of this earliest round of characters. Being a seafaring soul, Captain Crook pursued a
certain deep-fried golden treasure from under the sea: the McDonald's Filet-O-Fish sandwich.
The crusty Captain's greed was such that he also coveted land-based fast foodstuffs.
"Gimme some of those McDonald's hot apple pies!"
Captain Crook's image was reformed from a less-threatening baddie into a buffoon who
always failed, known simply as "The Captain." Soon, McDonaldland began to get overpopulated
with characters, and McDonald's found that the Filet-O-Fish was more appealing to adults.
By the 1980s, The Captain formerly known as Crook told no more tales.
Officer Big Mac, the living embodiment of McDonald's signature sandwich,
also found his job eliminated in the 1980s. His head looked as if it were
made of two gigantic all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles,
and onions on a sesame seed bun. Officer Big Mac maintained law and order in McDonaldland,
but let's face it, Captain Crook and the Hamburglar weren't much of a challenge.
After both Officer Big Mac and Captain Crook were downsized from McDonaldland ads,
Ronald McDonald dealt more directly with the Hamburglar, McDonaldland's sole remaining villain.
Many of the McDonaldland characters celebrated a particular menu item
and looked like them as well, like Officer Big Mac or the McNugget Buddies. However,
Grimace was an exception. He just looked as if he had overindulged in fast food himself.
This lumpy glob of purple originally had an unquenchable thirst for McDonald's
shakes. Because of this despicable behavior, this creature was named the Evil Grimace.
According to McDonald's manager Brian Bates, company lore tells that the Grimace is supposed
to look like a giant taste bud. Be that as it may, Grimace was another character who went
from naughty to nice. Early commercials feature a much more dystopian McDonaldland, where Grimace is
stealing shakes, the Hamburglar is grabbing burgers and Captain Crook is hooking fish
sandwiches. Fortunately, Ronald's "McNoir" period didn't last long. Grimace's character was revamped
and he got a makeover. He originally had four arms, presumably to hold more shakes. The kinder,
gentler Grimace only needed two. He changed from a greedy fiend to a good-natured friend.
Grimace's name didn't really fit anymore, but almost everyone in
McDonaldland had become far too happy to be concerned about it.
Beyond the enduring and most familiar core cast of lovable characters that
always seemed to end up at a McDonald's restaurant, the McDonaldland landscape
occasionally introduced new friends. Some of them served to create new plots for commercials,
while others were tied to food items. Some of these McDonaldland citizens became long-running
members of the commercial series. Others did not prove as effective or popular
movers of McDonald's products, so they were sent wherever commercial mascots go.
In 1980, the first female character was added to the McDonaldland cast: Birdie the Early Bird. She
was dressed like an old-fashioned aviator in a flight cap with field glasses and a scarf.
Birdie's appearance helped McDonald's promote breakfast items to kids, which were new at the
time. Birdie was an active part of McDonald's commercials for years: she became one of the
main characters, comparable to the Hamburglar, and Grimace. Birdie's popularity continued
beyond her need to promote breakfast. She kept on flying as long as there was a McDonaldland.
The same could not be said for two other characters. Sundae was Ronald McDonald's pet dog,
created in conjunction with McDonald's ice cream sundae desserts. The Professor was not attached
to any specific product: he was just a wacky inventor who occasionally propelled the action
in various ads. Sadly, he could not invent a way to keep himself or Sundae in front of the cameras.
Time has not been kind to clowns. Over the last century, depictions of clowns in fiction and
film have altered the perception of clowns from kiddie-friendly pals to horror movie killers.
According to a 2014 Rasmussen poll, forty-three percent of Americans feel an aversion toward
clowns. That same year, a homicidal clown named Twisty figured prominently in the
"American Horror Story'' anthology series, and in 2016, the U.S. was struck with a rash of ominous
clown sightings. The success of Stephen King's "It" as a best seller and several films depicted
a clown as especially dangerous to a small child. The horror-clown phenomenon got so bad
that McDonald's scaled back on appearances by Ronald McDonald until the controversy
died down. He was a clown, after all, and at that time, Americans didn't want to see one.
"I tried to warn you. People hate clowns now. And the advertisers want to meet with you."
[screaming]
As the host of a fictional children's TV show, as well as the figurehead for his
fictional chain of fast food outlets, Krusty the Clown of "The Simpsons" is a bit of a throwback.
He recalls a time when circus clowns were beloved children's characters on TV. Clowns
were once a welcome presence on TV shows, in cartoons, and hawking McDonald's fast food.
One of the most popular clowns in postwar America before Ronald McDonald was Bozo the
Clown. He was a big hit on records before being a TV favorite for decades. Bozo was
part of a national franchise, allowing cities to have a Bozo at local stations so kids could be
on the live broadcasts. Seldom, if ever, was Bozo an object of terror. Children of today
have little or no knowledge of yesterday's popular personalities like Bozo or Emmett
Kelly. The fictional clowns of 21st-century pop culture are almost always frightening.
In the American mainstream, clowns have been rendered passé at best and terrifying at worst.
"Oh, I wish that scary looking clown at the end of my bed would go away."
[screaming]
Nevertheless, the McDonald's Corporation has returned Ronald McDonald to active status,
believing he is an exception to the rule. As their official mascot and "Chief Happiness Officer,"
Ronald's presence has never been removed from Ronald McDonald House, an independent nonprofit
organization supported by the company since 1974. The character maintains a popular Instagram
account detailing his many public appearances to promote McDonald's and the charity. In the 2020s,
the company has relied on marketing tactics like combo meals assembled by celebrities,
and hiring "Succession" star Brian Cox to narrate a series of ads.
"The hottest, juiciest Quater Pounder yet. It's perfect, made perfecter."
In 1996, the Federal Communications Commission moved to more strictly
enforce the 1990 Children's Television Act, a system of media regulatory laws
that would require commercially-supported broadcast networks to program a minimum of
three weekly hours of educational television geared toward young viewers. Many outlets
opted to logically put those newly mandated shows onto their Saturday morning lineups,
supplanting the traditional schedule of purely entertainment-oriented cartoons.
"But you can still catch me and all my friends on NBC, Saturday morning!"
[cheering]
"We'll be watching for you, Alvin."
The Children's Television Act also notably curtailed advertising, limiting ad space on
Saturday morning TV to 10½ minutes per hour. That removed about six hourly minutes of advertising
from that child-oriented time, meaning the companies that usually bought commercial time
during that period — selling toys, cereals, or, in the case of McDonald's McDonaldland commercials,
fast food hamburgers — suddenly had a whole lot less space to work with.
All those new rules ultimately proved to be more trouble than they were worth for the networks.
With NBC the first to eliminate cartoons in favor of teen-oriented sitcoms, news,
and sports, all the major broadcast networks would eventually give up on animated fare on
weekend mornings altogether, programming educational and informational shows about
travel and animals. With the Saturday morning cartoon landscape receding,
McDonald's lost one of its most crucial McDonaldland promotional haunts.
McDonald's didn't just brand itself as a haven for kid-friendly food. The company promoted
its restaurants as family-friendly places where children could also enjoy activities.
Parents could relax and keep an eye on them without too much worry. To that end,
McDonald's created Playplaces, some of which resembled tiny theme parks.
PlayPlaces were found on the grounds of thousands of McDonald's outlets for kids
to run around in. Smiling images of Ronald McDonald and his cohorts were emblazoned on
artwork built into the structures themselves. The equipment was sometimes made in the image
of McDonaldland characters, like the Officer Big Mac Climber and the Hamburglar Swing.
By the mid-1990s, two standard play pieces were removed from PlayPlaces. By 1999,
it became clear why McDonald's got rid of the Big Mac Climber. Apparently,
over the previous twenty years, hundreds of kids had sustained injuries while playing on – or
falling off – the Big Mac Climber. Apparently, McDonald's had neglected to report those
injuries to authorities. The U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission fined McDonald's
four million dollars. It was the organization's largest punishment in history up to that point.
In 2010, the number of families with kids going to McDonald's altogether declined,
so PlayPlaces fell into disuse and disrepair. Around that time, McDonald's embarked on a six
billion dollar nationwide location remodeling drive. In the process,
many of the McDonaldland-oriented PlayPlaces were eliminated.
About thirty years after the launch of the McDonaldland campaign, some market research
uncovered that the company had paid a price for its success. The McDonaldland campaign had
worked far too well. Kids loved McDonald's so much that, by the twenty-first century,
McDonald's food was commonly thought of as food for kids, though all ages certainly enjoyed it
as well. After so many years of developing the McDonaldland canon, characters, lore, history,
and settings to appeal to children, to make McDonald's seem like a wonderful,
fantastical place to eat and spend money, it worked. However, their fast-food competitors
took note and began counter-marketing. In the 1990s, Burger King, Wendy's, and Taco Bell found
their niches by positioning themselves as destinations for budget-conscious adult
eaters. More "grown-up" and upscale-style chains like Panera Bread took more of McDonald's market
share. The Golden Arches started a long process of phasing out McDonaldland and its childhood image.
"And I have the best gift of all. Friends like you."
"Happy holidays from McDonald's."
In the 2000s, McDonald's attempted a soft reboot,
scaling back on opening new stores and launching a new focus on food quality.
All of that meant less marketing to kids and promoting juvenile-skewing foods like Happy
Meals and Chicken McNuggets. McDonald's sought to prove it was growing up, and so it downplayed
the child-centric marketing involving cute clowns, food filchers, and merry monsters.
McDonald's decision to shift its focus away from its juvenile audience came around the same time it
faced another lawsuit. Plaintiffs alleged that the fast food establishment, along with Burger
King and others, was culpable in the rising levels of kids living at an unhealthy weight.
"Be a good boy! Show Mommy how the piggies eat!
"Oink! Oink! Oink! Oink! Oink!"
[laughing]
In August 2002, the families of two teenagers considered overweight by mainstream medical
standards sued McDonald's. The company was charged with failing to properly
tell the masses that its food was packed with considerable amounts of sugar, fat,
and salt. They alleged that this led to their daughters' obesity-related health issues,
including high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and heart disease.
The plaintiffs' attorney, Samuel Hirsch, told CNN:
"We are not looking to get rich from a large monetary settlement. We are proposing a fund
that will educate children about the nutritional facts and contents of McDonald's food."
A New York judge dismissed the suit, but McDonald's didn't emerge from the matter
unscathed. The accusations put a spotlight on McDonald's food and business practices.
This led many to consider that the company's offerings weren't the healthiest choices.
It certainly would have been tough for McDonald's to continue marketing to kids in
the same ways that it had been, with cheerful, food-celebrating characters in a magical land.
Instead, McDonald's launched the "Go Active" campaign, emphasizing exercise and moderation.
Since the McDonaldland characters were associated with the old food image and
the old ways, they didn't factor into the "Go Active," concept. However,
Ronald himself was involved in events with professional athletes.
Monumental cultural shifts and changing business strategies led to phasing out the McDonaldland
characters in McDonald's marketing plans. In 2003, after a poor sales period led to
significant internal management changes, McDonald's launched the "I'm Lovin' It"
campaign. It was conceived as a more hip and modern advertising approach. While it
was addressed to potential customers of all ages, it was squarely based on fans of pop music stars.
Slim, energetic Justin Timberlake was paid six million dollars to encourage
his vast base of eager teens and young adults that he was indeed "lovin' it."
The McDonald's "I'm Lovin' it" campaign crawled to the top of McDonald's advertising concepts. It was
one of the company's all-time most successful campaigns. It stomped out McDonaldland and its
characters, at least for the time being. At this point, the McDonald's consumer base is much wider
than when kids were the primary target. But you never know – Birdie and the gang just might fly
again someday. The McDonaldland characters also made a fortune in merchandise and premiums.
McDonald's could easily score millions again with their McUniverse of intellectual property.