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I enjoy practically all the Coen Brothers’ films, but one of my favorites is a rather neglected item called The Hudsucker Proxy. This fantasy-comedy valentine to the filmmaking style of Preston Sturges and Frank Capra bombed at the box office and is rarely mentioned with the reverence of tone reserved for other entries in the Coens’ body of work, but I’ve always found it to have a special charm of its own. The story involves a hapless graduate of the Muncie School of Business Administration named Norville Barnes, whose first days in the Big Apple find him propelled from the basement mail room to the top executive floor of Hudsucker Industries — a floor from which the founder of the company has just plunged to his death. The Board of Directors, concerned that Old Man Hudsucker’s stock shares are up for public sale, decide to depress the stock’s value temporarily so they can buy it all up themselves and then return it to its former value. How will they accomplish this? By appointing as their new president the biggest idiot they can find, of course.

Poor Barnes. He accepts his new fame and (dwindling) fortune completely innocent of the political machinations behind it all. He’s determined to bring new vitality to Hudsucker Industries through his own unique invention — which appears, from the drawing he shows everyone, to be nothing but a circle. Barnes enlightens his befuddled audiences with the cryptic phrase, “You know — for kids!” Convinced that this latest demonstration of stupidity can only depress the company stock further, the Board greenlights this mysterious project, branding it the the Hula Hoop. (Obviously, the movie plays fast and loose with history.) Surely no one will want to buy such a ridiculous product…

Of course, it’s easy for us to laugh at the Board’s shortsightedness, knowing what we know about the Hula Hoop as a pop culture phenomenon. But at first the Hula Hoop does seem like a flop — the toy stores can’t even give it away. It’s only when one kid starts playing with the Hula Hoop and demonstrating various tricks with it that people start buying every Hula Hoop they can get their hands on. Hudsucker Industries is saved. (Sorry, Board.)

Barnes has clearly learned a valuable lesson. The final scene shows him introducing a new toy called the Frisbee to a puzzled Board. This time, though, he’s ready with a demonstration, flinging the Frisbee out the window to show exactly what it does and why it’s cool.

So the lesson here is simple: All the charts and specs in the world, all the features lists, even the lists of benefits we’re all told to emphasize in our marketing, pale before the picture of the product (or service) in action. I don’t care about the technical specifications of a Frisbee’s aerodynamic capacity. I don’t care about how it’s good exercise for me to chase after the thing. I want to see it fly!

Make your audience imagine the scene. Paint the picture for them in words. Give them the feeling of watching that Frisbee climb, bank, curve, do all the things you can make it do. Convey the FUN of it!

You know — for kids!