Dave's Commerical Prolapse # 4

Yup, it's another double bill from Dave.

In the latest chapter of Activia’s war on 'bloatedness' we find has-been celebrity and former page-three slapper, Nell McAndrew, indulging in the fantasy of having her own chat-show:

Today’s first guest on ‘Nell’ is Emma from London, who I’m sure is cottoning on to the fact that Nell’s career on TV is pretty much restricted to her own mind, although has sportingly agreed to play along.

Emma - like most people who have anything to do with Activia - is feeling a tad bloated and strangely is happy for that information to be bombarded into the average consumer’s minds. Just think if you will about how it feels to be bloated. Now think of Emma struggling with that feeling, clutching her stomach and pulling a grimacing face, breathing out slugglishly… GO ON, IMAGINE IT!

Luckily for our collective mental sanity Emma has found a solution in Activia, as it is ‘scientifically proven’ to cure the oh-so scientific malady that is bloatedness. Activia contains the miracle science of Bifidus ActiRegularis, you see. Of course, that means nothing; it’s just a selection of words which sound vaguely scientific, but it has the word ‘regular’ in it, which could mean it makes you regular? If it’s ‘scientifically proven’ I suppose we should just do what they say. After all why would science lie to us?

After all that rhetoric, Emma feels a lot ‘easier in herself’ - although doesn’t say specifically that the bloatedness has gone - so all hail the scientific bamboozlement which is Bifidus ActiRegularis. In fact so miraculous is the change she feels a fool, for not having tried it before. You hear that everyone? Danone’s calling us all fools unless we try their magic vanilla flavoured goo. We better do what they say, as they have science to hand and to question science would be stupid. And we don’t want to be stupid now do we?

Dave's Commerical Prolapse # 3

Here's Dave Jani again...

This advert is actually quite refreshing, and probably more so than an actual gin and tonic - which to me tastes like rat piss with a twist of lemon.

It’s pretty fun and satisfying to see Gordon Ramsey pelted with things which, despite the apparent metaphor of the advert, are probably not all that nice to have dropped on you.

I mean think about it, Lemons and Ice are hard if dropped from high up enough. Also the lemon might get in his eyes – don’t even get me started on what the gin would do as well - and I don’t care how tough and uncompromising he is, it will still hurt. Then again he’d probably react with some f'ing and blinding, so in that sense it would just be another day in the office, or err… Kitchen. Still, saying that, if you turn the music down, it does look like he starts screaming when the ice starts hitting him.

It seems we are just watching Gordon being tortured by a rather inventive sadomasochist, perhaps a disgruntled cocktail waiter from Claridges looking for revenge or whatnot. Normally I would have expected it be one of the kitchen staff getting his own back on Gordon, perhaps by pouring hot soup over his head. This too would be pretty fun to watch, as Gordon staggers around the screen screaming from third degree soup burns. Still I wish the advert was a little longer and we could see more unpleasant things be dropped on Gordon - like some snapping turtles or unsold Chico CDs. Also, I'm wondering what the second course of drinks this madman intends to drop on ol’Ramsey will be. Personally, I'm hoping for flaming B52's.

More bad apples...

First Magners shamed themselves. Now it's Brothers turn.

Where to start with this one...

The main issue I have with adverts such as this is that companies seem to have no problem with having absolute imbeciles sell their product. Admittedly, it is the lovely ladies who are buying the drink, but our six erstwhile ejits are the focus of the piece. Why, even in this cider-skewed universe, would someone overhearing an order at a bar assume that it was a request for companionship?

Alright, so these things don't necessarily have to make sense if they're funny. This ad, sadly, is not. It's anti-funny. Not only do the these pricks immediately kick one of their mates away (contravening the established 'bro's before ho's rule), they assume the best way to appear as brothers is to dress up in identical clothing and facial hair. If the woman had asked for a traveling identical quintuplet family freak-show, then fair enough. But she didn't. She asked for five bottles of fucking cider, you fucking MORONS.

Cadbury? Crapbury more like, yeah?

Hah, I crack myself up with these witty titles. Anyway, check this load of old bollocks out:

Blergh. Awful, huh?

It's a shame really, because we all know that Cadbury can pull off some amazing adverts. However, with this televisual abomination, they've undone all that good Phil Collins/Gorilla related work (not something I thought I'd ever find myself typing) in one fell, sickly swoop.

Now, I could get into attacking the product, as I consider anyone who mixes chocolate with raisins to be a heretic, but we'll concentrate on the commercial. Not only is it attempting to give us some of that post-Boosh 'random' humour that Mr. Dave Jani discusses on this very blog, it also manages to weave in a horribly twee atmosphere at the same time.

Essentially, taking the very worst thing about Christmas - carol singers - and putting them in a park in the middle of Summer is an almost offensively lazy way of communicating 'craziness'. Carol singers simply remind me of that edgy, awkward feeling you get when you open the door to their shining faces and have to stand, embarrassed, as they reel off two numbers before you tell them you have nothing to give. They do not remind me of tasty, melty chocolate treats.

If the singing doesn't make bile rise in your throat, then surely the stupid marching-dance routine and their stupid costumes will. The fact that they "Leg it" at the end of the ad makes them look like a horde of badly disguised paedophiles realising they've been spotted by the law.

Remember kids, never take sweet off a stranger. Especially Cadbury Clusters - they've got fucking raisins in them. Gross.

100% pear, 98% shit advert.

I like Mark Watson. He's pretty funny on shows like Mock the Week, even if he fakes his Welsh accent. However, he isn't making me laugh here:

I don't know whether Watson had a gammy knee the day they filmed this advert, but the way he bumbles towards the camera in the first scene makes it look like he has shat himself. Either way, his mate Duncan seems surprised that his promotion in his crappy, dead-end office job is... a slightly different crappy dead-end office job. You'd almost think he was expecting a promotion to sweets and fireworks tester or blowjob receiver.

So, why didn't they tell it to him straight, like a pear cider? Yeah, why didn't they? Because everyone knows pear cider is the universal benchmark with which to measure the veracity of all other statements. Incidentally - the fact that pear cider contains 100% pear is about as surprising as finding out Mickey Rourke is 50% plastic.

And 50% scary-ass grimace.

Whereas the last Watson fronted Magners ad had a relatively decent punch-line (even if it wasn't mind-blowingly funny), this one doesn't even have that for a saving grace. 

"Wasn't one of the classic conferences then?" 

HAHA!

Fuck off.*

*Ironically, this isn't my best sign off either. 

Zero sugar - zero sense.

The last Coke Zero commercial was pretty bad. Check this one out...

Now, assuming you paid attention to anything other than the actress and her shapely behind, let's take a closer look at the way Coke Zero ostensibly works when you glug a bottle down like a thirsty piglet (as demonstrated by 'our hero' above).

Apart from making the synapses in your brain fire dangerously, it appears that every time the familiar 'pffff' sound of an opening bottle is heard, several helicopter-loads of suited and booted special forces agents crash into your life with some of the most bizarrely context-specific weaponry ever constructed. I mean, who designs the dog-mask rifle? Is there one for every breed and size of dog? Surely a dog in a gimp mask is a definite sign that something weird is going on anyway.

As supposedly useful as the Coke Zero commandos have been in this scenario, they'd soon become a nuisance. Open an ice-cold can while you're enjoying a home cooked Sunday lunch with the parents and you'll find yourself with a face full of glass and your mum's garden blown to shit.

Anyway, seems to me that 'Daddy' should be far more concerned about the freshly broken window and multiple explosions occurring outside, rather than some prick rogering his daughter. And what kind of psychotic father is this? One that leers creepily like a sex pest through the peep-hole, pounding on the door angrily within ten seconds of arriving. If anyone should have been saved, it should of been the girl...

One for the ladies...

Don't ever accuse bADVERTISING of being sexist. Here's an ad aimed squarely at women. And probably some men...

Apparently, make-up artists finally have an alternative for false lashes. Finally, all those years of waiting and wondering are over. So... what is this revolutionary alternative? Some kind of new mascara from Max Factor? Nope...

Yup, there it is. Don't pay money for cosmetics, simply get a post-production team to digitally alter your lashes to their full and luscious potential. Of course, you'll have to film every part of your life in advance and not actually appear in person at any time, but surely that's a small price to play for 'impact you never thought your lashes could achieve', right?

Impact like this.