Of all the scenes in one of my favorite films- the 1990 fantasy/adventure/romantic comedy Joe vs. the Volcano starring Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan- one of the few I enjoy most is on the surface about the simple task of a man seeking luggage for his upcoming trip; but the value of the scene is much more than this transaction. It doesn’t just advance story through an encounter with a memorable character; pulled from his bleak existence, our downtrodden protagonist finds someone with passion and purpose in an unexpected setting. And the lesson for us as marketers is a demonstration of sincerity, commitment, empathy, and patience, things we would all do well to embrace more in the course of our work.
For context: the dreary life of hypochondriac working stiff Joe Banks has been turned upside down by a terminal diagnosis of something called ‘brain cloud’ which although it has no symptoms is apparently fatal. Suddenly existential, Joe quits his dead end job and is soon recruited — based on his past heroic exploits as a one-time firefighter — to help an industrial tycoon bargain for natural resources with the natives of a tropical island by willingly jumping into a volcano to appease their angry god. Resigned to his fate and swayed by the man’s stirring overture, Joe agrees to one last adventure.
Joe’s mission will require travel by air and sea, so before he leaves he spends a day in the city getting cleaned up, attired and equipped at his new employer’s expense; and it is in the course of these errands that he encounters the Luggage Salesman.
Played brilliantly by the Irish actor Barry McGovern, this man exists in his own world. The store may be a high end luggage retailer or department store for all we know, but physically it resembles a church or a house of worship; the setting is solemn and sacred.
The Luggage Salesman communicates his values immediately; he is not just there to sell a product or a brand (which we never actually learn). The man is there because he has a mission: luggage is “…the central preoccupation of my life.” As he explains to Joe, the selection of one’s luggage is no trivial decision, but practically a matter of life and death.
This is a powerful illustration of how marketing is ultimately about alignment of values. What brought Joe here is that he needs luggage. Not just that he needs any luggage, but something that will serve his specific demanding purpose: a voyage by air, land and sea- “a real journey” as the salesman reflects with keen interest. And with unlimited resources at Joe’s disposal, money is no object. What he doesn’t have is very much time.
So after initially communicating his values, and taken Joe’s presence as qualification, he sets to work on the issue.
“Are you traveling light, or heavy?” he inquires, his questions accomplishing two things. First, allowing his customer to feel heard and articulate their problem, and second, gathering what he needs to make an informed recommendation. The fact that his face is away from Joe while Joe describes his predicament shows just how intently he is focused on his customer’s problem. As Joe describes that he will be staying on an island, not knowing whether he will be “staying in a hut, or what…”, the man’s eyes light up.
He leans in to confide: “I believe I have just the thing…” and leads him across the room.
When he wheels out “our premiere steamer trunk”, we don’t need to wonder why is anyone making or selling these fifty years after the demise of steam-ship travel; it is a surrealist metaphor for a niche product that is absolutely dialed in for a very specific and discriminating audience.
We don’t know what brand it is, and we don’t need to- we just need to know that it is the best of its kind: “…all hand made- only the finest materials. It’s even watertight- tight, as a drum.”
As certain he is in his recommendation, he is not pushy. This man knows his subject matter and is confident he understands the situation. “If I had the need, and the wherewithal Mr. Banks, this-” he gestures, “- would be my trunk of choice.”
Joe’s response — “I’ll take four of them!” — affirms the salesman’s approach.
This is how marketing and sales at their best can work; know what you stand for (start with ‘why’) to engage those people who value what you value; listen and understand their needs and constraints are. Then, give your best recommendation and let them decide.
The Luggage Salesman’s approach beautifully models a way of being that anyone could embrace, whether they working in marketing, sales, or something completely different.
What about you- have you thought much about luggage?
