First Drop: Boffo Box Office, But What About the Beans?

With respect to celebrity coffee brands, we are all Vladimir Ivanov now.

Who in the name of Krampus’ barn is Vladimir Ivanov? He’s a fictional Russian saxophone musician, played by Robin Williams in the early 1980s low-key chestnut “Moscow on the Hudson.”

Ivanov defects to America while on a goodwill tour, and freaks out at the abundance of the American supermarket while on a grocery trip. The trigger? Coffee brands. Trying to make a choice – the first time he’s ever been able to do so around coffee – his hands go to his face, he mutters to himself with his Russian accent, louder and louder, finally shouting: “Coffee. Coffee! COFFEE!” while pulling boxes from the shelves, crazed and afraid.

It’s a funny scene, but it’s getting sad, because at this point, it’s as if every agent and talent manager in the world heard Ivanov’s cry, only they mixed it up with an order. And they decided that their clients are just the ones to satisfy that order.

In the past couple of years, we’ve seen a rainforest of celebrity coffee brands, either invested in, named for, or otherwise prominently associated with everyone from Robert Downey, Jr., Emma Chamberlain, Tom Hanks, and Korn to Hugh Jackman, Jimmy Butler, Snoop Dogg (didn’t last long), and Jadakiss. There has been coffee from singers Ghostface Killah and Machine Gun Kelly, some gamer named Jacksepticeye, the preppie designer Ralph Lauren, and the weirdo auteur David Lynch. Earlier this year, there was a feud at television’s 6666 ranch, when Yellowstone showrunner Taylor Sheridan’s coffee brand, Basque Ranch, sued actor Cole Hauser’s brand, Free Rein, over IP infringement. Sue ‘em, Cowboy!

The day before I wrote this we were looking at two new introductions: Throne Sport Coffee (I’ll be the one to say it: the brand name is rather… evocative) from Chiefs’ QB Pat Mahomes and BodyArmor veteran Mike Fedele, as well as Rudy Coffee – and no, not the football movie “Rudy” (he already had a sports drink, by the way) but beans licensed with the inspiring image of indicted political gremlin Rudy Giuliani.

Creating a more exhaustive list – because you can – is enough to cause one to down a bottle of celebrity tequila, which may be the only product category that is potentially more significantly star-splashed than coffee.

At a recent beverage industry event, as I watched a panel on celebrity-based branding, it occurred to me: if the first 20 years of this century were defined by an evolution in food and beverage brands toward healthy lifestyles, the next 20 years are likely to be marked by a makeover of grocery aisles by casting directors rather than category captains. Investors, manufacturers, and even retailers seem fully sold on the idea that a few thousand TikTok or IG followers can light a brand on fire, regardless of its other qualities. Soon, you won’t decide on brands by their calorie content, but by their Q rating. Is this really our trip to Flavortown? Unless the coffee actually tastes like Cole Hauser, how much should anyone care?

Of course, to slip the accusation that these folks are simply shilling to extend their financial footprints, we keep hearing about the passion that these founders have, not just for their brands, but for the product types themselves. How they have practiced, refined palates, exquisite sensory awareness, deep interest in the business, respect for the hard work that goes into brand building, and are involved every step of the way. I don’t doubt that’s the case for some of these “celebrepreneurs,” but it’s a formula of attestation that’s been repeated so often, by so many of them, that it’s clear that it’s just not the case: after all, movies and TV shows are still getting made, Mahomes is in training camp, and Rudy’s still on the lam. If these celebrities were all that fully invested, our collective national entertainment menu would be reduced to “Diff’rent Strokes” reruns.

I understand the reasoning. People have pulled it off a few times. Vitaminwater was able to really accelerate with 50 Cent as a celebrity investor, and the idea of him developing his own variety supercharged interest in the brand. George Clooney did make a lot of money off his tequila. And yes, I do believe that Emma Chamberlain truly loves coffee and is a generational avatar for her fans to the point where it seems like a logical outgrowth.

I also understand the enthusiasm. One thing about entrepreneurs – they are incredible supporters of the ideas that brought them to the table. I’ve seen founder after founder not just swear, but swear to the life-changing attributes of their products. Athletes, with their incredible drive to win, and celebrities, with their practiced ability to play a role, are great partners as founders in that regard. The confidence, aura, personality can provide a lot of the swagger of inevitability when they put their names or signatures on a can. The problem is, athletes lose a lot, celebrities pick bad roles, sing crappy songs, and don’t always know their roasts or their beans. Of course, they are passionate and as capable of succeeding at a side gig as the rest of us. But so many entrepreneurs have learned that their product isn’t what they say it is but what the consumer interprets it as being; for them, that celebrity tie-up may actually constrict brand development.

I have, of course, interviewed my share of celebrities who are working with brands in a variety of roles over the years; some have been delightful and insightful, some have been dull and rote, but it’s always been something I’ve approached a little warily (too warily, in the eyes of my bosses, who are rightfully aware that they do sell tickets). I’ve seen what they add to the room from an entertainment, energy, buzz standpoint. Some are terrific business people who just happen to inhabit the body of a minor deity, and who really do have a nose for coffee, tea, tequila, or whatever else they’re selling. But an organic fit isn’t always easy, and that’s why you see so many flash-in-the-pan arrangements, short-term cash grabs that are dreamed up and packaged with the same marketplace logic that puts stars and directors together with producers to justify massive budgets that nevertheless result in a total flop.

But that’s also, in a way, why the celebrity game is so fascinating: we can speculate how far that elite aura extends into the marketplace, and how the celebrity will react if they face the same execution challenges that vex every founder, famous or not.

At this point, however, it might be time to think of a new strategy, before we’re all paralyzed at the cooler, looking at all the different showbiz faces, overwhelmed by the fame, muttering to ourselves in our own panicked accents.