Most Ridiculous Ways Anyone Ever Promoted A Movie

Need to promote your horror movie in the wildest way possible? Call up the guys at Thinkmodo. This three-man team made headlines in February 2017 for their stunt to promote Rings — a gag involving Samara Morgan crawling out of an actual TV screen — but they've been churning out viral videos for years, all involving pranks, monsters, and gullible bystanders.

For example, to promote the (completely unnecessary) remake of Carrie, the Thinkmodo crew set up shop in Manhattan's Nice cafe, rigging up remote-controlled tables, a spring-loaded bookshelf, and a fake wall with a pulley system designed to yank a stuntman across the room. Then, an actress playing an angry telepath used her "psychic powers" to "hurl" the stuntman against the wall, freaking out quite a few customers.

To stir up conversation for Devil's Due, a satanic pregnancy flick, the group placed an evil robot baby in an abandoned carriage on the streets of New York. When concerned citizens stopped to help, the demon child began banging its head, vomiting, and acting like you'd expect a demon baby would. Sticking with the devil theme, the team also terrified customers at a beauty salon to promote a possession film called The Last Exorcism Part II. The gag involved a scary-looking actress behind a two-way mirror, and when unsuspecting patrons checked out their hair, they were shocked to see an evil face glaring back at them.

But perhaps their creepiest caper came while promoting a thriller called Dead Man Down. This particular prank involved two guys in an elevator, one playing a helpless victim, and another a killer, armed with a cord. When the elevator doors opened, people outside panicked, with some running off, others gaping in shock, and a few going into superhero mode, attacking the fake murderer. So if you ever see an abandoned child or murder-in-the-making, you should probably still help out ... but just be prepared to wind up on YouTube for your trouble.

John Wayne loved the Alamo. For years, he dreamed of putting this Lone Star story on-screen, and finally, his wish came true in 1960. After an incredibly difficult shoot, The Alamo was ready to go, and Wayne needed it to make a killing at the box office. It had cost around $12 million to make the picture, meaning it was Hollywood's costliest movie at the time. Desperately needing to stir up public interest, the Duke turned to Russell Birdwell, a Texas press agent with a penchant for tall tales.

Birdwell is probably best known for his work on Gone with the Wind. For nearly three years, he oversaw a nationwide talent hunt for an actress to play Scarlett O'Hara. Around 1,500 women tried out, and the stunt kept people talking about the movie until it became the highest-grossing film ever made (adjusting for inflation). Hoping Birdwell could work some of that PR magic, Wayne hired the Texan to promote his own epic, although he probably didn't expect Birdwell to boldly proclaim that the real-life Alamo battle was the "greatest single event" since "they nailed Christ to the cross."

Birdwell was just getting warmed up. Next, he published a massive press kit full of facts meant to wow the public with The Alamo's extravagance. This so-called "Bible" explained how the cast and crew ate 900 gallons of ice cream, needed 10 miles of underground wiring to keep the electricity running, and how they used 40 miles of steel to build the set. He then demanded Congress give the Medal of Honor to everyone who fought at the Alamo, and he even tried to persuade leaders from the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. to hold a meeting at the mission. And after failing to convince Winston Churchill to write a promo for the film, Birdwell attempted to shame Academy members into awarding the film an Oscar by questioning their patriotism.

Sadly for Wayne, The Alamo only won an Oscar for Best Sound, and failed to make its money back. Just like the real-life battle, the movie turned out to be a major disaster.

Tarzan might be king of the jungle, but even this vine-swinging ape-man needs help surviving in the cutthroat world of Hollywood. So in the early days of film, when studios wanted to promote an upcoming Tarzan picture, they turned to Harry Reichenbach. A press agent with a fondness for animals (or at least a fondness for using them as props), Reichenbach was hired to get people talking about 1918's Tarzan of the Apes. Taking a cue from the title, the PR man got an actual ape, dressed him up in a tuxedo and top hat, and tried to check his primate pal in at the Knickerbocker Hotel. Without a doubt, it was the most adorable publicity stunt of all time.

Things got a bit riskier, though, when Reichenbach was asked to sing the praises of 1920's Revenge of Tarzan. Sticking with wildlife, Reichenbach showed up at another hotel, this time with a sizable crate. After signing in as Thomas R. Zann (T.R. Zann, get it?), the distinguished guest asked the hotel staff to hoist his crate via a pulley system into his hotel room. After the box was safely delivered through a window, Reichenbach ordered 15 pounds of meat. Naturally, this made everyone a tad suspicious. After all, the staff thought "Zann" had a piano in that crate, and it's a well-known fact that musical instruments don't care for steaks.

Moments later, the hotel detective arrived to find that Reichenbach had loosed a lion in his hotel room. Understandably upset, the detective summoned the police, and wherever the men in blue go, reporters will follow. With a captive audience listening to his every word (and watching the lion's every move), Reichenbach was able to give his spiel, encouraging Americans everywhere to spend their hard-earned cash to watch Tarzan get his revenge.

Sure, it's one of the scariest movies ever made, and yeah, the film crushed it at the box office, but The Blair Witch Project's greatest accomplishment came in the publicity department. Before the movie hit theaters, the filmmakers tricked quite a few people into thinking the story was real. There were the missing posters, the website, and most importantly, the Sci-Fi documentary that made it seem like three people had really disappeared into the Maryland woods.

Evidently, the doc had a big impact on M. Night Shyamalan. Coming off the success of Signs, the director wanted to promote his upcoming creepfest, The Village, so he teamed up with filmmaker Nathaniel Kahn to create his own Sci-Fi special. Titled The Buried Secret of M. Night Shyamalan, the film purported to be an actual investigation into the director's life. As part of the stunt, Shyamalan eventually claimed Kahn was asking too many personal questions, "pulled out" of the project, and started publically attacking the film.

Sci-Fi got into the act as well, conforming Shyamalan's vendetta and handing out false info to journalists. When the documentary finally aired on TV, The Buried Secret claimed Shyamalan had drowned as a child, and after he was revived, he'd gained the power to commune with the dead. In addition to the supernatural aspect, the doc featured quite a few clips from The Village, plugging the upcoming thriller.

Needless to say, people weren't happy. The Buried Secret was slammed in the press, and NBC — Sci-Fi's parent company — was forced to apologize. Adding insult to injury, the doc couldn't save The Village, and soon, Shyamalan's career started to tank. Fortunately, favorable reviews for 2017's Split put him back on track, proving Shyamalan is one unbreakable dude.

In 2013, audiences across the world were treated to Iron Man 3. Starring the inimitable Robert Downey Jr., the blockbuster quickly became the tenth highest-grossing film of all time, all while earning the praise of fans and critics alike. But at Goodrich Capital 8 Theaters in Jefferson City, Missouri, the Marvel magic was ruined when patrons spotted a man wearing full-body armor and carrying an assault rifle.

As you might assume, terrified moviegoers called 911, and the police responded in force, ready to take out the gunman. But this wasn't some psycho looking to shoot up a theater. It was all part of the worst publicity stunt ever. Evidently, theater manager Bob Wilkins thought it would be a good idea to hire actors to dress up as S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and greet guests. However, these cosplayers were decked out in bulletproof vests and carrying machine guns, which isn't exactly how we remember Agent Coulson looking in The Avengers.

True, there were guys dressed up as Iron Man and Nick Fury, but that doesn't justify having actors walk around with realistic-looking weapons. Naturally, the stunt drew quite a bit of criticism, and theater officials apologized on Facebook. However, Wilkins also said on TV that he had no regrets about the incident, as it's his job "to entertain people." Making things even worse, all this went down less than a year after the massacre in Aurora, Colorado. Talk about bad timing.